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#please stop assuming someone feelings if you are not planning to ask :)
heron-iles · 2 years
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That moment when people assume you are angry bc you don't talk
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starkwlkr · 2 months
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fever dream | sebastian vettel
part 2 part 3
warnings: toxic soon to be ex husband who cheats on reader (if i miss anything, let me know!!)
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading!! you can read it here!
AN: THIS SAY THAT SEB AND THE READER WERE TEAM MATER FOR 2014 AND 2015 THATS A MISTAKE SORRY I ONLY MEANT TO PUT 2014 😭
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liked by lewishamilton, yoursistersaccount and 24 others
yourusername a short trip back home 🤍
lewishamilton enjoy it!
yourusername thanks lew! miss you and roscoe 🤍
lewishamilton roscoe and i miss you more
yoursistersaccount it’s great to have you home
yourusername 🤍 love you
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“luke, alison! your aunt y/n is here!” your sister yelled as she opened the door to her home. in a matter of seconds, loud footsteps were heard running down the stairs. “no running!”
but still the kids didn’t listen, they were excited to see their aunt. “hey, my babies! oh my god, you two have grown so much. stop growing!” you hugged your niece and nephew.
“i’m almost as tall as mom!” alison, the younger sister, said.
“liar, that’s just what dad says to make you feel better. i’m going to grow more than you and then i’ll be taller than you.” luke teased.
“you both can be tall, but never as tall as me.” you joked as you placed a kiss on their cheeks.
“are you going to stay with us forever?” alison asked innocently. “dad said that you don’t want to stay with your husband anymore and you’re going to stay with us.”
“alison!”
the truth was hard for little kids to understand. yes, you were going to stay with your sister for a few days and yes, you didn’t want to stay with your husband anymore, but it was a bit more complicated than that. your husband had cheated, lied, manipulated you and you had enough. he was the reason you couldn’t come back to the sport you loved and worked your whole life for.
“well i am going to be staying here, but not forever. i just needed a break from him, it’s normal.” you tried to explain to the girl.
“but my mom and dad don’t take breaks?”
“alison, just go to your room, you too luke, please. dinner is going to be ready in an hour.” your sister said, feeling embarrassed that alison would ask those questions.
“what did i do?” the older boy whines as he and his sister walked up to their rooms.
“i’m sorry. i spoke to jack the night you called. we were cleaning up the table after dinner, i assume she heard.” your sister explained.
“it’s okay, they’ll understand when they’re older. not everyone is cut out to be loved . . .”
or a mother.
only a few people had known about your issues with infertility, your sister and lewis being two of them. after you retired from f1, you were sure that in a couple months, you were going to be busy with doctor’s appointments, buying baby clothes and building a crib, but none of that happened. after a year of trying, you were convinced you weren’t meant to be a mom.
you thought about returning to the track, after all many drivers returned after saying they were retiring, why couldn’t you? but that plan was spoiled by the man you thought loved you.
“you can’t go back, you don’t belong there. it’s a man’s sport. you’re probably going to crash in the first lap anyways.”
you didn’t know why you stayed with him, but you did. maybe it was the promises he kept telling you about or the hopefulness that one day you would become parents and maybe he would change. but again, none of that happened.
“um, i have to call someone. i’ll be right back. excuse me.” you told your sister as you walked to the patio door and exited the house. without hesitating, you clicked on a familiar contact. you held your phone against your ear and waited for the person on the other end to pick up. it felt like forever, but eventually they picked up the call.
“hello?”
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theobsessivesideblog · 4 months
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Trust Issues
An anxious Astarion falls back into old patterns of behavior.
Warnings: vague mentions of Astarion's past but seriously the rest of it is just fluff, this boy deserves someone who treats him well
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He loves you. Of that much he’s certain now, despite the mental battle he waged to get to this point. And you love him. He believes it even though the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he could never be worthy of a creature like you, all goodness and light in direct contrast to his tortured darkness. 
But old habits die hard. A minor disagreement earlier in the day (truly it was nothing, a mere gentle dissuasion away from his more violent tendencies) has him wound tight, worry clawing at his throat as you both retire to your tent for the evening. Surely now you’ll realize, now you’ll see the truth of him and you’ll run, leaving him behind like the monster he is. 
He can feel his mindset shift, falling into old routines as he turns up the charm to seduce his way back into your good graces. He knows how to wield his body as a weapon, has used it countless times for his, and his master’s, benefit. If he makes you need him then you can’t leave him, and he intends to make you very needy tonight. 
“You were magnificent today” he whispers into your ear, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 
You chuckle lightly and lean into him, closing your eyes as he begins gently kissing the sensitive hollow beneath your ear that has you arching further into his embrace. 
“You flatter me,” you hum. “I’m still not sure why everyone has decided to act like I know what I’m doing. I never planned on being a leader.”
“And yet you do it so flawlessly,” Astarion purrs, gently kissing his way to your shoulder.
You twist in his hold, your breath catching as you see the look in his eyes that he’s praying you interpret as hunger and not helpless desperation.
He takes advantage of your distraction to pull you against him, lips claiming yours in a feverish dance that takes your breath away as you wind your hands into his hair, clinging to him as if he’s something worth having. 
His hands shift suddenly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you as he lowers you both to your knees. His hands drift up, pulling your shirt from where it’s tucked into your pants and caressing his way across your stomach to your ribs, teasing the edge of your bra. 
“I…” you take a sharp inhale, pulling yourself away from his searching mouth. “Astarion, stop.”
He freezes immediately, eyes instantly searching for an injury, for anything he may have done wrong 
“Are you okay, my love? Did I hurt you?”
“Of course not, I just…” your fingers flit across his cheek, searching for answers to questions you’re afraid to ask. “You don’t seem like yourself. Are you alright?” He hesitates for a split second and your brow furrows, latching on to his lie before he can even tell it. “Tell me. Please?” 
Your request is so earnest, so loving, that he has to pause for a moment to regain a hold of his emotions. If Cazador could see him now… the thought snaps him back to the present. He’s been a fool. You would never treat him like that, use him like that. 
“… I’m sorry” he breathes. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I… I lost control today, and I was afraid that you… that you might not...”
“I told you it was nothing to worry about, love. You were just—”
“Just being myself,” he interjects, dropping his head. “Just being quick to judge, to assume the worst, to—”
“Stop that,” you frown, nudging his chin up to draw his eyes back to yours. “You know I couldn’t do this without you, any of it. What you thought of me when we met, that I was naive and overly trusting and gullible…” At that Astarion chuckles, you’ve really only proven his first impression right, though at least now he finds it endearing rather than frustrating. “You weren’t wrong. You don’t realize how much I rely on your judgment, how much I need your help to keep us all safe.”
His eyes close as he presses his forehead to yours.
“You’re too kind to me,” he whispers. “No one has ever… I don’t understand how you can just…” he sighs, shoulders sagging as the facade crumbles and his hands come to rest in yours, holding them as if he’s afraid he’ll get lost if he lets them go. “It was wrong of me to try to manipulate you like that,” he murmurs, releasing a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek and duck your head, gently nuzzling your face into his neck. He feels you frown against him, a touch of cold alerting him to a teardrop falling onto his skin. “No, pet, please don’t cry, I—”
You lift your head suddenly, gaze piercing into him with an intensity he hadn’t expected.
“I need you to trust me, Astarion.” 
His brow furrows in confusion. 
“I do, my sweet,” he replies, letting out a wry chuckle before adding “despite the recent evidence to the contrary.”
Your gaze softens as you grin at him, brushing a stray curl off his forehead before bringing your hand to rest on his cheek.
“Then trust me to love you.Trust that you don’t need to earn that or convince me of anything more. I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere.” 
Astarion’s eyes drift closed as a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying slips off his shoulders. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, tender and unhurried as you relax against him. 
“Have I told you recently how much I adore you, darling?” he asks, tilting his head to slowly kiss his way to your jaw.
“Hmm…” Your eyes twinkle as you pull an exaggerated thinking face. “I’m sure you have but it’s been such a long day, I just can’t seem to remember…”
“Cheeky little pup,” he chuckles, gently nipping at your neck. You giggle as you pull him back to your mouth, smiling against his lips. 
“Maybe you should jog my memory?” 
“Oh, believe me,” he smirks, “I plan to.”
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irndad · 4 days
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kiss me (under the milky twilight)- s.r.
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a/n: this took so long and i'm so sorry! based on this post- reader has an ex that she keeps running back to, and spencer just wants her to see him. fake dating and hijinks ensue. VERY long. 4.6k words!! thanks to @fadingplaidtrashpatrol for ur thoughts and ideas!! masterlist // ask
The unraveling begins on a Friday. 
This is one of the rare Fridays where a full weekend is staring back at them, and Spencer is immeasurably pleased at his plans. He’s rented a Russian old movie, and his best friend had agreed to sit next to him on his shitty old couch while he whispers translations in real-time.
He loves spending time with her, a little hedonistically. She’s so kind, warm in both spirit and disposition, and Spencer treasures the time he gets to spend with her. Her desk adjoins his, and so one might assume that he could tire of her presence, but there’s something a little addicting about her, something he tries to have as often as he can. 
On this fine evening, she’s wearing an oversized sweater tucked into jeans- her position is mainly out of the field, and so she takes full advantage of the dress-code flexibility. Lovely earrings hang around her face, adorning her lovely features like a frame. 
Spencer’s more than a little in love with her. 
This has never really been a convenient fact, but Spencer’s used to wanting things he can’t have. And it was never really feasible not to want her- anyone who’s ever been in her presence would know this. It’s a foreign feeling, looking over at someone he’s lucky enough to know, and wanting them enough for that desire to turn into fantasy. 
“Spencer!” She greets him warmly, standing up to do so- if this wasn’t a workplace, if she was meeting him at the cafe like they do on Wednesdays, or his home, like she often finds herself in whenever he invites her, Spencer is certain she would wrap her arms around him in an incredibly warm hug. 
Because they are in the BAU, she believes it is inappropriate to embrace this way (which Spencer would argue isn’t true, given the way Morgan and Penelope are with each other, but if he told her that, it might be a little too obvious how desperate he is for her to touch him.)
The way she beams at him almost makes up for the fact that he doesn’t get to hug her. 
“I got you something,” he says in lieu of a response, clutching the bag of muffins in one hand. He’d woken up early to get her to stop by her favorite bakery, and it was worth it to see that look on her face. No one’s in the office now, the day long finished, and they’re getting ready to walk to his place. He lives so close by, and he’s grateful for this fact when they walk together back to his place. 
She grabs the bag, and he’s just so endeared by her, the giddy expression written over her lovely face.
“Have I mentioned that I love you? Because I do. You need to marry me, immediately.” She says to him, eyes closed in bliss, and even though she’s clearly joking, Spencer finds himself preening at her praise- wouldn’t it be incredible if she meant that? It sounds so pretty in her voice. I love you. 
He beams back at her, in a way he hopes doesn’t betray how much he wants. 
“I’m glad you like them,” he says back, his heart in his throat. 
“I have some news that you are going to be incredibly mad at me about.” She says, and a crumb is on her painted lip, and fantasy of kisses that he cannot have enters Spencer’s mind before he can shake it away.
“I could never be mad at you.”
“I think I have to raincheck tonight,” she says almost sadly, her voice apologetic, as though she has no choice in the matter.
“Is everything okay?”
He had picked up her favorite snacks yesterday night, tidied up his apartment top to bottom. 
“Josh texted me- he’s going through something and he needs me to come over-“
“He doesn’t need you to come over.” 
He rarely interrupts her, and he usually isn’t capable of being upset with her. He’s not really even upset with her now, but this is so exhausting, watching her deal with this asshole. 
It is a continuous surprise to Spencer that someone like her can be in a position like this.
Through Spencer’s eyes, the idea that anyone can not be in love with her is almost an impossibility. It’s not even his bias alone that makes him think this- it’s the truth of her. 
Josh is an asshole finance bro who works in the city center, and Spencer hates him more than most serial killers. 
He’s fucking careless with the thing Spencer wants the most in the world. Josh knows what it’s like to be with her, to be the person to falls asleep with her in his arms.  
Sometimes when Spencer can’t sleep, which is quite often, he pictures her soft cheek on her chest, pictures what she would feel like entwined with his own body, legs tangled with his and her fingers in his hair. It’s a sacred thing, this image- even though it isn’t real, Spencer knows he values the imagination of her presence more than Josh gives his attention to the real thing. 
They’ve “gotten together” and “broken up” and “started talking again” about 12 times respectively.
Spencer could kill him.
“Spence,” she sighs, shaking him out of his angry stupor, “please don’t be mad at me. He’s really going through something right now- he needs someone to be around. Besides,” she breathes out, “I can’t dump him. 
“Why is that?” He tries to temper his tone, but the memory of her mascara running down her cheeks as she sobs in his arms shoots through his mind, and manifests as a physical sharp pain in his chest. 
“That wedding is coming up,” she murmurs, looking down at her shoes. They’re scuffed, and Spencer thinks she might be embarrassed. Why should she be? He’s the asshole. “I told people I was going to have a date. Do you know how many people are going to be there, Spence? How many people are expecting me to bring my boyfriend?”
Her best friend is getting married. Spencer knows this because she’s told him, and told him gleefully when Josh had agreed to go with her. Spencer remembers thinking that he’d like to punch a wall.
Anyway. 
She’s the last of her friend group that’s not in a long term relationship, and in some twisted way, he kind of gets how Josh would be better than nothing, if you didn’t want to be seen as alone. 
“You don’t want to go alone.”
“Yeah, Spence.”
“I could go with you.”
It escapes his mouth without his permission, and he regrets it almost instantly. Because there’s no fucking way she’d go with him. He’s lanky and awkward and his blazers never fit and his ties are always tied wrong, and she’s beautiful and wonderful in ways he finds new ways to see everyday. He’s not a solution to her being worried about how she’s seen, he’d only make it worse-
“You would do that for me?” Her voice is small as she asks, and it shakes him out of his thoughts. He looks down at her, eyes softening at her lovely face. She looks touched, and he has to wonder, doesn’t she know?
He’d do anything for her. 
“Of course,” he breathes out, a nervous hand playing with the strap of his bag, “If it gets you to stop giving that asshole the time of day, I’d do it a million times.”
Her face shifts in a way he can’t read, and she swallows. 
“I can’t let you do that.”
“I want to,” he says, “Please. It would be fun, C’mon. You’re always saying I need to get out there and do things.”
“Being my fake boyfriend at my friend’s wedding is not getting out there and doing things,” she pouts, and his heart nearly jumps. It’s pathetic, but hearing her refer to him as her any kind of boyfriend is intoxicating. He wants to hear it, over and over. 
“It’ll be fun,” he says, touching her hand as it rests on the table, making intentional eye contact. She has been prettiest eyes. “C’mon, let me do this for you. I’m sick of this guy.”
She gulps again, an endearingly confusing gesture, and he finds the feeling a little desperate. Pick me, choose to be with me, even if it’s just pretend. 
“He’s going to be there anyway,” she breathes out biting her lip in a nervous gesture, “I- I’d owe you so much, Spence. It would make him jealous, I think.”
It’s a little hedonistic, how much he would enjoy that, he thinks. Someone would see her as his girl. He knows she might be doing this to get Josh’s attention, but still- the evening together seems like too lovely of a thing to turn down- too wonderful of a chance to not offer. He’d take a night of pretend over never getting to be with her at all. 
It’s enough to make him ignore that making Josh jealous is probably the reason she’s saying yes. 
“Okay, okay! Spencer, will you do me the honor of taking me to Julie’s wedding?”
“I would be honored. 
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The weeks approaching the wedding are a bit of sweet torture. She’d had the idea that they could practice, whatever that meant, and the memory of it lives in his mind rent free. They’d been watching the movie, already touchier than most would allow of best friends. (She’s his best, Spencer’s just the tiniest bit resentful of Julie). 
She’d been sitting next to him on his worn out couch, her legs thrown across his, and true to his word, he was whispering the translation along to the movie. She smiled at him, watching his mouth move instead of the movie, and he felt tingly under her stare. How wonderful and bright it is, to be under her gaze. He kept speaking even though she wasn’t watching, because he imagines that if he stops, she might look away. 
Then, she had held his hand. 
Grabbed it really, fingers lacing with his own, and Spencer’s brain had short circuited. She has soft hands, he had thought to himself, and it was about the only thing he could manage to think. 
“We should practice,” she had whispered, even though it was just the two of them in the lowlight of his home, “Y’know, so people believe us.”
He didn’t say that he’s pretty sure no one needed to be convinced he’s in love with her. 
“Sure,” he had nodded, and squeezed her hand, “I think that’s a great idea.”
So they’ve been practicing. 
This has been in equal measures wonderful and torturous. She walks with him to work on half the days, with her fingers twined with his own, and Spencer finds it intoxicating that any passerby would assume he belongs to her. 
More than he already does, anyway. 
Her affection is her own, just turned up to 11. She’s gorgeous- this is a fact that was not instrumental in his love of her, but ornamental- still, this is hard to ignore when she touches him as much as she does now. When she’s out with the team at the bar, she rests her hand on the small of his back- he preens every time at this. This is simple, her domesticity, her claiming his presence as her own- it’s more than nice, Spencer realizes. It’s wonderful, to be wanted by her. Even if it’s not real.
On this night, they’re celebrating. They caught the unsub before he’d been able to kill his first victim. This is a rarity in their field, and she’d given the interview that had gotten the confession. It’s the closest to field work she’d gotten, and they’re all celebrating their win. Her win. 
She looks like a figment of imagination, lovely in a way he literally cannot believe he didn’t conjure up in fantasy. Her favorite song is playing out of pure serendipity, and Spencer likes that word for her. She is serendipitous as a whole. 
“Do you want something to drink, honey?” The endearment feels warm and natural as it comes out of his mouth. His hand is resting on the small of her waist, and he knows he’s being egregious with the practice thing. But this is so nice, her leaning into him, one drink deep and touchier than she is tipsy, and he loves this. He loves that under this pretense, he gets to know what she feels like in his arms. 
He hands her the water before she gets to answer, and she happily sips it. 
“Are you proud of me, Spence?” Her voice is immeasurably fond and he drinks it in like a man starved. 
“Of course,” he smiles at her. I’m always proud of you, he thinks. “You did so well, love.”
He’s not used to endearments, but she showers him in them. Before their little pretending, too. Called him dove, honey, darling. Packed an emergency lunch in his go bag in case he forgot his. She’s such a good friend, and he wants to be her lover more with each breath. 
He tries to return them, now. 
“Good,” she says serenely, looking at him in a way that kills him, because he will never, ever kiss her. She can hold him, and look at him like that, and he will never get to be with her, “I think my cider is too sour,” she scrunches her nose, and his heart swoops. 
“I’ll get you something sweeter, baby.”
“Yeah you will!” He hears Morgan laugh, and he flushes bright red. No one seems surprised, by how touchy they’d been. Even Hotch- he’d expected a talk, but then got a stern nod of understanding in its stead. 
She sips the sweet drink he got her, a little cherry on the step, and he thinks he’d do anything to keep looking at her. 
Five weeks to the wedding. 
He can do this. 
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“Could you do me a favor, Garcia? I come bearing gifts.” 
Spencer’s snuck into her office- there’s not much to do today, but she hadn’t wanted to take PTO for no reason, so here she is, in her feathered and pink glory. 
“Is that a hot chocolate? From Dominicks? Ooh, you play dirty, Dr. Reid.” Penelope almost squeals, and despite his nefarious purposes, he finds himself joyful- it’s alwaysgood to talk to her. 
After a joyful, eyes closed and serene sip, she asks, “Alright, my sweet furry friend, what can I do for you?”
“Could you check on a Josh Collins for me?”
“Isn’t that your girl’s ex?”
“No,” Heat rises to his cheeks, before he can help it. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Oh, and my favorite color is black.” Penelope scoffs back, but begins typing furiously anyway. 
He needs to know what is so fascinating about this guy. Because lately he can’t figure it out. He’s always fucking hated the guy, even though he’s never met him. He never had to- she’d shown up enough times at Spencer’s door crying, been broken up with and brought back enough to know that this guy is awful. Doesn’t even come close to deserving the woman that she is. 
“He’s a financial analyst at a Marketing firm, went to state school for his Bachelor’s, says here that he played football in college, but I don’t think they met until after,” she says, “Oh, he has a scuba license. And skydiving! Looks like he’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie.”
It’s an evil thought. Is that what she likes? He finds it hard to imagine, picturing the moments where she’s wrapped up in his arms on a movie night- that always seemed to be her preference. In, not out. 
“Is that him?”
There’s a picture of him on Penelope’s screen. Josh is chiseled and strong, smiling brightly in a polo on a jet ski- this is a photo posted on his social media, and Spencer has met a million of this guy. They bullied him in school. Spencer as genius and he’s a lot of things, but that will never be one of them. It’ll never, ever be him. 
Good to know, anyway. Better not to fantasize about what he knows he can’t have. 
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On the day of the wedding, it’s actually a 6 hour drive. She’d offered to get them plane tickets, but he enjoyed his time with her. He was also desperate to extend the time until the wedding was over, and she’s probably the only person he wants to be trapped in a car with. 
They’re sharing a hotel room. She’s booked two beds, which he’s honestly grateful for- if they’d shared a bed, he might’ve combusted. 
Still, there is so much intimacy. She sings in the shower. He imagines a world where he’d know that in domesticity, where after a night spent in laughter and something like love, she showered in his home. But that’s not how he knows it. He knows it because he’s at her best friend’s wedding, pretending to be her boyfriend. 
When she comes out of her bedroom, she’s gorgeous. 
She’s got a green and purple dress on, a cinched waist and a sweetheart neck, a dash of plum lipstick on her lovely pout, and he’d like to kiss that smile very, very much. She’s a delicate kind of lovely, saturated in sweetness, and it’s sweet torture to have her this close.
“You look...” He struggles to find words, an uncommon occurrence in his life, “Like a vision.”
It’s sentimental and warmer than he wished he sounded, but god- she’s stunning. She looks like she’s made of old film, beautiful in that way that’s just a bit too good to be true. He adores her more with each breath.
“You think it’s okay?” She speaks to him with her doe eyes adorned with a concerned expression. He wants to kiss it away.
“You look lovely,” he says, a vast underselling.
The ceremony is a lovely affair, and Spencer learns that she cries at weddings. The bride and groom have lovely, saccharine vows, and Spencer tries not to picture a wedding that he will never get to have. 
It’s a little bit impossible with her at his side. 
She’s touchier now, even mores then when they were ‘practicing’. Her hands are warm laced with his own, her head leaning on his shoulder, and he feels lucky to have even a piece of getting to be with her. 
At the reception, she is tackled by her friends, and he performs dutifully as the caring boyfriend. It’s not hard.
It’s a lovely night. His arms glued to the small of her waist, and he’s been introduced as her “genius FBI agent boyfriend” many times tonight. He turns bright red every time. 
“This is my boyfriend, he’s the smartest ever,” she brags when she’s half a drink deep, and he cherishes the ability to draw circles on the small of her back in this moment- his words fail him in moments of praise, and touch is an avenue that he is rarely allowed to use.
“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified-“
“Which is a thing that humble geniuses say.” 
So he’s having a great tine. 
Her lipstick is transfer-free, and his cheek is proof. She’s so affectionate his heart keeps doing somersaults. There’s a signature cocktail with some pun in the couples name.
“I’m fucking obsessed with these, Spence,” she says, a light airiness to her voice that he recognizes as her tipsy voice, “Can you get me another, my love?”
“Yes, honey.” He smiles at her, and kisses the crown of her hair before leaving her in the company of her friends. He’s indulging a bit too much, he’s aware. He’s going to have to give up this up when the sun rises, like some fucked up fairytale where Cinderella never gets the guy because she’s not worthy of it without the pretense.
“Could I get the house cocktail?” Spencer asks the bartender, flashing a smile at her with the giddiness of knowing he will return to her.
Spencer had nearly forgotten that part of the reason he was here was because of Josh. 
Who is at the bar.
“Hey man- you’re the dude she brought, right?” 
Josh is actually about 2 inches shorter than Spencer, and Spencer makes the most of this difference. He’s a broad chested muscle man, but he looks woefully underwhelming. 
“Yeah, I’m the lucky guy.” Spencer replies in a deadpan tone, turning to face him with a stony expression. 
“Careful, man,” Josh says, and it’s a little pathetic how he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t care, “She’ll chew you up and spit you out.”
“Really? Because it seems like you’d leave a bad taste in anyone’s mouth.”
“Whatever, dude. It’s clear that she just brought someone to make me jealous.”
“Actually, while I can’t read her mind, I imagine you’ve slipped hers entirely. Clearly your entire energy is based in whatever ego-driven shell your youth has shaped you into- and maybe one day someone will care enough about whatever tragedy made you the way you are, but I am deeply uninterested, and I’d wager she is too.”
He’s not sure if this is true, but Spencer’s noticed that in the time since their ruse has begun she hasn’t mentioned Josh. Not once. She might not love Spencer,  but she might not see Josh anymore. 
“Also, if you ever speak disrespectfully of my girlfriend again I promise you it will not end well for you.”
His voice is even and has an underlaying of quiet rage. It’s wonderful to call her that, even more so as she enters into his eye line.
“You looked mad,” she says in lieu of a greeting, her nimble arms wrapping around his waist with fluid ease, “Is everything okay?” 
It’s only then she sees Josh, and there’s something wonderful about knowing that she came here to check on him. Josh is about to say something, he can tell even though he’s only visible in the corner of his vision. 
It’s a calculated risk but he chooses to do it anyway. 
When he kisses her, he doesn’t know what to expect. It falls into line like puzzles into place, one of her hands falling to his waist and the other cradling his jaw with a delicate softness. She leans into him totally and this is an intoxicating feeling- her lips are so, so soft and it’s what he’s been fantasizing about since she first smiled at him and asked him to keep going when he was rambling about Russian literature. 
It’s actually better. 
When she pulls back, she scans the space. Josh is gone.
“Well that had the intended effect,” he says- it seems better than anything else, like confessing that the only reason he did it was that he could. He kissed her. 
She nods, clearly a bit frazzled, and fuck-
“I should have asked, fuck, I’m sorry-“
“No, no, you’re okay, um-thanks for getting rid of him.”
Her voice is hollow. 
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Despite the awkwardness of the kiss, which Spencer cannot stop thinking about.
Did he imagine it, or did she lean in? Did she sigh into it? How is he going to ever get over the fact that he’s never going to do that again?
Her lipstick is grape flavored. Now they both know that. 
They get back to the hotel at half past midnight, and she’d been a little distanced- not so much they still didn’t look like a couple, but enough that Spencer knows. They’re winding down the artificial love affair, and all of the things he’s become kind of addicted to are going to go away. Her fingers running through the tendrils of his hair, her delicate fingers rubbing tiger balm on his temples when he’s got his migraines. Her cheek kisses, the honeys, my loves, sweethearts. 
Kissing her. 
When she drops her bag on the hotel bed and sits on the edge of it, he sits next to her. She’s been quieter, since the kiss. 
“Hey.”
“Hey back,” she replies, bumping her knee with his in fondness. 
“I’m sorry I surprised you with, you know.”
“Kissing me?”
“I should have asked- I’m sorry.”
“I’m not upset that you kissed me,” she says, looking down at her shoes, “I’m upset that you only did it because you wanted to spite Josh.”
“What?”
“I know that this is my problem, Spence,” she says, “You never… led me on, you know? I know that this was always my thing to deal with. Being in love with you was never something that I thought would be a problem. But when you offered to go with me- to pretend to be my boyfriend, how could I pass that up?”
This makes no sense.
“I know,” she runs her fingers through her hair in a frustrated motion, “I know that it was never a good idea. But the idea of getting to be with you was just too much to turn down, even it it wasn’t the real thing. And now we’re going back to normal and I promise that I will go back to being your friend. It might take me a second, though-I might need some space.”
She needs space from him? Because she can’t transition away from being his fake girlfriend?
“You don’t need space from me.”
He’s so fucking bad at talking. 
“Spencer-“
“No, no,” because now he has a shot- now  there’s a reality where the pit in his chest doesn’t have to live there forever. He can be with her. Because for some crazy, insane reason, she wants him. “You don’t need space from because I don’t want space from you, okay?”
He sits next to her on the bed, eyes a little crazed with want with nowhere to go. 
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Her voice is tempered, and he thinks he hears hope. 
“I love you. I am in love with you. I’ve been in love with you as long as I’ve known you,” he grabs her hand-it feels desperate to say and he sure he sounds it, “I didn’t kiss you because I wanted to spite him. I did it because I couldn’t live with the idea that I would spend the rest of my life never have kissed you.”
He probably would say more- so many things are coming to mind, most of which are pleading. She’s the only thing he’s ever wanted this much. Before he gets to, though, she kisses him. 
It’s sudden, as all things of this nature are, but he pulls her close on instinct. She ends up on his lap, her hands around his neck, and it is so rare that fantasy lives up to reality. But this is better, the feeling of the weight of her pressed against him and the taste of her grape lipstick. 
It’s a minute when she pulls back, and it takes everything to not chase the contact.
“I love you too,” she says, the sweetness of it dripping from the sound of it. He wants to hear it again, and again, and again.
“For real?”
“For real.” 
When the run rises in the morning that follows, he’s wrapped around the length of her like a vice, right and close to him, Her head rests on his chest, and while there is another bed there, it’s clearly not seeing any use.
He’s never slept better in his life. 
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moondirti · 2 months
Note
pregnant diner waitress reader just has a dirtbag babydaddy, calling her and screaming the whole over the car and her being late.
honestly i hadn’t planned to have her baby daddy in the picture at all but the angst potential here… too tempting to pass up
PART 1 • PART 2
tags: simon x reader x johnny. darkfic. dirtbags. verbal abuse (not by ghost or soap). pregnant fem!reader who still hasn’t realised she’s being actively abducted.
It takes a bit to convince you to let them drive you home.
Your resistance is met with a paradoxical reaction by both men. On the one hand, there’s a warm comfort at the knowledge that you aren’t so easy to take advantage of. Even in your distraught state, you push back against every solution they propose. It is quite a detour, I’d hate to inconvenience you or I’m sure I can get a friend to come out instead. You’re wary, though your exhaustion sways you to assume the best of them, which means that you aren’t quite at the point of flat out refusal.
Otherwise, they – Simon, in particular – simmer in frustration. Red wine in a saucepan, reduced to a stronger version of itself over flame. Bitter. Strong. More insistent: cannae rest easy tonicht knowing we left an expecting hen tae fend fur herself. They poke at the knot until they find a loosening, tugging, tugging, then abandoning it once a more promising end appears.
Eventually, their combined efforts (though most of the credit can be attributed to the sincere, puppy dog look Johnny sports at all times. Hard to resist, even for Simon) dismantle your willpower. You duck your head in a modest thank you and shuffle behind them, seating yourself firmly behind the drivers seat even though you’re offered shotgun, hugging your bag over your belly.
“Do you need me to type in the address on google maps or something?” You say after they pull out of the parking lot.
“Y’were on about Adderford.” Simon meets your wide eyes in the rearview.
“Yeah.”
“Reckon I know the road.”
Simon does know the way, and so does Johnny. Adderford, off of exit A36. Near a polluted lake that was the victim of an attempt to turn the town into an industrial hub. Nothing to show for that, of course – all it has to offer now is a poor quality of life for all those who weren’t fortunate enough to get out.
Yeah. They know the way, and their confidence must set a precedent for the trip. Your anxious fidgeting stops after 10 minutes of driving, and you’re smiling at the nonsensical story coming from the passengers seat a mere 5 minutes later. In the meanwhile, your rationalisation is visible. Simon watches your gaze flicker back and forth between them, then around the car that must feel luxurious next to yours. If they wanted to do something bad to you, then they would’ve already done so. Besides, what kind of delinquents drive a wrangler?
30 minutes in, you’re fast asleep.
They really couldn’t have asked for a better turn of events.
They come up on exit A36 and stick to the middle lane, passing the little sign that points to Adderford being a couple miles out. Past the point of no return, beelining towards the secluded house they’ve made your new home, and you can be none the wiser. Johnny can’t believe their luck, babbling in a hushed voice about how nice it’ll when you to wake up in their bed.
The fantasy loses its grip when your phone rings, blaring from deep within your bag. Panic ripples across your face, jolting you from your sleep as you scramble for the device. The series of events unfolds in far too familiar a way for one of them. Simon – a buried torment wringing around his guts as he listens in.
“H-Hello? Shit. What–” You’re breathless, stuttering. Back to that scared little thing they found by her car, crying. “Please- please calm down.”
And though you try to keep your voice low, they leech on to every word you say. Someone on the other line yells, indistinct insults punching through the mic and landing. You wilt, tucking your lip underneath two teeth, waiting the anger out.
(Tommy donned the same expression those nights when things got bad. Simon remembers hugging him against his chest so he wouldn’t have to face the misery his brother’s countenance wrought.)
“You shouldn’t- I’m sorry, but I thought I c-changed the locks. You’re not allowed to be in… not in my apartment.” More yelling. Soap twists a fist, concoting a hundred different ways he can track whoever it is down. Make them pay for their abuse with their own tongue down their throat. “It’s none of your business- you left…”
“Easy.” Simon whispers to his partner.
“Si.”
“I know, boy.” Perhaps all too well. It gets harder to keep a firm steer over the wheel.
“Don’t accuse me of– my fucking car broke down! You shouldn’t even– fuck! Hello? Hello?” A low scream tears from your throat, prelude to the aggressive shoving of your phone down into back your bag. Trembling fingers press down over your eyes, rubbing until your tears soak into your skin. Ridding of the evidence to your dismay. You suck in large gulps of air, holding them in your chest until it aches, then gasp out equally hefty exhales.
No one speaks for a while. Then–
“I don’t think I should go home right now.”
Too broken for them to feel anything but overwhelming pity. Johnny clicks his tongue, looking over his shoulder so you can latch on to the sincerity that seems to calms you so.
“O’course. Whatever ye need, lass.”
Your frown softens “There’s a motel–”
“Next one’s farther ou’ than our place is. Can’t take you there and back m’fraid.” Simon interjects. Like a record scratch, or sandpaper on an already raw moment. It must make him an awful man to use your earlier propriety against you, but conviction has superseded his desire to act decently.
Sure enough, you visibly blanch, shaking your head and stumbling over your words.
“No! No, of course not. Of course- that was so silly of me to ask. You can, I mean… you can drop me off anywhere, really. I’ll sort t-things out for myself.”
“Not what I meant, pet.”
You don’t catch on. He doesn’t repeat.
Johnny bridges the gap.
“We’ve got a spare bedroom.”
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next part
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pastel-peach-writes · 6 months
Note
Hello!! I love your Korra X readers so I’m just gonna ask if you could do a Korra x Fem!reader (or GN up to you!) with the cliche plot of Reader being injured and not telling anyone until later? Hope you are doing well!!
YURR lets go. I initially wrote this as a fem!reader, but I didn't even use the reader's pronouns in this so, gender neutral reader it is!
Kiss It Better | Korra x Beifong!Reader
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╰┈➤ PLOT: With your girlfriend saving the world all the time, you take it as your job to not worry her with your own problems. If you needed help with something, you'd figure it out or get someone else's help. What happens when your "selflessness" nearly costs you an arm?
╰┈➤ WARNING: Injured!Reader, Suggestive Mentions, Cursing, Not Proofread, Beifong!Reader
⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ
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It was a simple fracture. You were training with Bolin and a cluster of Earth hit you too hard in the arm. Bolin apologized and even offered to take you to the infirmary, but you rejected him.
One, you were a Beifong; you don't get hurt. Two, if you go to the infirmary, chances are you'll get a cast or some sort of sling. That'll worry your girlfriend, the Avatar, and with all the duties she had to attend to, your fractured arm was the least of her worries.
"Oh, fuck," you hissed, leaning back into your plush sofa. Typically, the plush cushions and fuzzy fabric would comfort you. The cushions would allow your muscles to relax and for your body to find comfort in the warm snuggles of your girlfriend's blanket. But now, the cushions only make your body hurt worse.
There was no support in the cushions. The plushiness was too plushy and the warm comfort typically found within the blanket was annoying.
"I'm home!" Korra announced. The woman kicked off her boots, put up her short hair, and plopped beside you on the couch.
You groaned, holding your bicep.
Korra tilted her head, raising a brow. "Hey, you okay? Was I too loud or something?"
Time slowed as you forced a laugh out of your chest. If you laughed too hard, your arm would ache. If you didn't laugh enough, Korra would assume something was wrong.
Nothing was wrong. At least, to her knowledge.
"Oh, sorry!" you smiled at her, "I was actually practicing this new joke Mako taught me. I was supposed to make this sound, but I guess I haven't mastered it yet."
"Oh... haha," Korra forced out of her. "No more taking joke suggestions from Mako. He doesn't have a funny bone in his body." The Avatar nestled her head on your chest. She hummed, snuggling into the warmth of your body.
"Right," you chewed on your lip. "I don't know what I was thinking."
-
"One, hit! Two, hit! Three--!"
"Okay!" you howled. You and Bolin have been training for three hours straight now. Something must've inspired Bolin because he's been sending over disks, boulders, and other forms of Earth toward you like there was no tomorrow. While he was losing pounds by sweating alone, your arm was screaming at you.
"Please stop moving me!" "I'm hurt!" "Why do you hate us?!"
You wished you could listen to your body. You really did. But you read somewhere that certain fractures can heal on their own with the proper rest and care.
You thought you could take it easy in training today, but obviously, Bolin had other plans.
"Oh," Bolin smiled, peeling himself away from his boxed stance. "Did I go too far? Sorry. Opal said something last night about guys working out and how she loved watching me train sometimes, so I wanted to work extra hard this practice so I wouldn't feel bad for showing off."
Your chest heaved up and down as the boy spoke. The fire in your arm was excruciating and it was spreading to your shoulders.
You trudged along the training center, going to a lousy bench where your water bottle and workout towel lay. "No, no," you told Bolin, "it's okay. I just need a break. That's all."
Lowering yourself onto the bench, your muscles and all the meat on your body felt like falling off the bone like you were a tenderly cooked piece of chicken. Your thighs ached and shook, like after an endless night with Korra. You took your towel and slung it over your good arm. You carefully opened your water bottle to take a sip.
Bolin followed after, mindlessly yapping about Opal and how pretty she was. Once he sat himself next to you and drank from his water, his eyes bulged out of his head, and water sprayed from his mouth.,
You whipped your head toward him, perplexed. "Oh, my Spirits! What was that?"
"What happened to your arm?" the boy exclaimed. He pointed at the swollen and bruised skin. Your rotator cuff was a deep purple with blue specs. He couldn't see it, but the bruising gave a pulsing sensation.
You scoffed and went for another sip of water. "Nothing. Just bumped into a pole."
"What kind of pole hit you like that?" he exclaimed again, now out of his seat. His green eyes were now filled with fear; his body trembled with worry.
You tried to shrug, but since your hurt arm was alarmingly tough and sore, only your good arm moved. "I don't know," you mumbled. "It was a while ago, I think. I can't really remember."
"Well, you have to at least let a nurse or someone qualified check you out! This looks bad, Beifong. No pole could've done this."
"Bolin," you rose to your feet. "I'm fine. Don't make me say it again." You didn't let Bolin get another word in as you gathered your things. "And Bolin, don't mention this to anyone."
-
Bolin can't keep a secret and honestly, it's your fault for telling him to keep one. You're his friend and Bolin doesn't believe in keeping his friends in danger. You need medical attention, even if you are too stubborn to admit it.
Immediately after practice, he ran to Mako who ran to Asami who told Korra.
When she first heard the news, Korra had mixed emotions. She was vexed because she didn't notice your pain and you didn't tell her, yet worried about the extremity of your injury. Could your arm fall off? What if the injury was actually worse underneath?
The Krew discussed your injury and how to intervene in your careless ways of living. There was a plan where they tricked you into going to the hospital, another where they took you out to dinner and would finesse you into spilling your guts, and then there's the plan they actually went through; the plan that made the most sense.
Korra was to go home with a smile on her face, cuddle and kiss on you for a while, and then ease into the conversation of training and injuries.
Mako thought the subtle conversation topic would force you to talk about your injury without actually forcing you.
Well, it's been two fucking hours of medical talk and Korra wasn't getting anywhere.
The two of you were cuddling on your bed, legs entangled with each other and her arms around your waist. She had her head on your good arm and from the corner of her eye, she could see the black and blue bruising that was growing to your neck.
Your pajamas acted as a pathetic way to hide it.
Korra was done playing the nice game. She had Asami in her head telling her to play the nice game and to ease into it. (She also had Mako claiming that Korra was unable to play the "nice-and-ease-into-it" game, but what Mako doesn't know won't kill him).
"Bolin told me," Korra spoke, her eyes fixated on the wall in front of you two.
You hummed, keeping your eyes closed. The ache and burn on your arm weren't as bad anymore. You also read somewhere that heat would inflame the injury more so after a quick lukewarm shower, you iced. You iced and replaced the ice for hours until Korra came home.
You were missing that ice right about now.
"Told you what?"
"That you have a disgusting bruise on your shoulder." Okay, so Bolin didn't describe it as disgusting, but what you don't know won't kill you either.
You snickered. "I ran into a pole, okay? It's not the big of a deal."
"Then why are you lying to me?" Korra pulled herself off of your chest. With delicate fingers, the Avater peeled the soft fabric off your shoulders.
The subtle movement of the fabric made you wince and the natural instinct was to push Korra away, so, you did. You pushed on her stomach to move her away from you. "Korra, don't."
"Oh, what are you gonna do?" she scoffed. Korra sat on her knees, shoulders squared to you and arms crossed over her chest. "Threaten me? You saw how that worked out with Bolin, nice move by the way." Korra's words were stern and leaning towards the angry side of things. Her nose scrunched while her nostrils flared. She was also gripping her arms so hard, her grip made marks.
"I didn't threaten him," you claimed.
"So, what would you call it? Being a bad friend? Telling him to keep your health a secret knowing damn well it's on the line?"
"My health is not on the line!" You've sat up from the bed now. Your bad arm rested on a mound of pillows and your good arm held it for support. "It's a tiny injury, sprain if you wanna go that far."
"That's rich," Korra scoffed. She shook her head, getting off the bed. "You can barely talk to me without the corner of your mouthing ticking from the pain. I can barely put my hands on your shirt and you can barely sit on the couch without groaning in pain."
You suddenly found interest in the ceiling. You took note of the texture and the color. You would find any new fact you could about this ceiling if it meant you could avoid Korra's burning gaze and her rising anger.
This is why you didn't want to tell her in the first place. She's worried about everyone else and for once, you wanted to be someone she doesn't have to worry about. But now she's here, yelling at you because she cares. Because you didn't tell her.
"I didn't want you to worry about me too," you mumbled. Your gaze dropped to the comforter. "You have so much on your plate, I wanted to ease the load. You shouldn't be stressed about me, you're the Avatar. You have more people to worry about."
Watching you struggle to look her in the eye, Korra sat herself on the bed. She put a soft hand on the mound of your knee, using her thumb to soothe the skin. "Hey," she spoke. "I am your girlfriend first and the Avatar second. I will always worry about you. You deserved to be worried about and cared for."
You swallowed thickly. The back of your throat scratched like you had a cold yet your mouth was eager to say something back. Your brain couldn't think of any words to say.
"Your struggles and problems aren't inferior to me. I want you to come to me with your troubles, not because I'm the Avatar, but because I'm your girlfriend. It's my job to care for you, to heal you when you're sick, and to pick you up when you're down. Master of the Elements or not, that's my job and it's yours too," she sighed. "So, please, for the first time, tell me what's wrong and what I can do to help you."
The moment your eyes locked with hers, a flood broke through you. You wept as you told her what was wrong with your arm and how long you've tried to sustain this injury, four days.
Korra could kick herself over and over again for not noticing how much pain you were in, but you were a good pretender. In some way, she had Bolin and Opal to thank. Without Bolin's sudden desire to train extra hard, you wouldn't be forced to stop pretending.
But instead of wallowing in self-pity and throwing a really weird party for the couple in her head, she comforted you. She pulled you to her chest and held you as tightly as she could without hurting you further.
The two of you stayed like that, you in her arms, for a while. You didn't take notice of the time spent in the position. You two focused on each other's breathing and warmth.
And finally, for the first time in a long time, you let Korra take care of you.
WC: 2,071
938 notes · View notes
afroditisworld · 13 days
Text
Salvatore
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Spencer Reid x female!Reader
minors dni
Warnings : smut without a plot :)) praise kink and hands kink, oral (female received), switch Spencer, use of pet named (good girl, love, baby, brat, sweet) if you are not into that please do not read.
word count : 3k
Dating Spencer was never a plan. But here you were, falling for him more and more each day. He was not someone you expected to fall in love with; you didn't usually go for guys like him. But he had something that made you feel safe and understood at the same time. He was different from anyone you had ever dated before, which made him so special to you. You were younger than him, and you sometimes worried that you weren't what he needed in his life. But Spencer was always there to remind you that you were his safe person.
You didn't have always much time to spend together because of his work and your studies, but whenever that happened, it felt like time stood still and you were the only two people in the world. You went out for coffee or a date in a library, trying to find books for each other, and when you just wanted to relax, you would just lay on the sofa and read books.
Tonight was like this, with you two being too tired to go out but wanting to spend time together. He was at his desk, studying something for his new case. He had promised you that it wouldn't take long, but half an hour became one and then two, and you started getting bored. You didn't want to bother him, but your boyfriend was looking so damn good doing what he was good at, and you couldn't stop staring at him. His focused expression and the way his brow furrowed in concentration were oddly attractive to you. You wish he was more focused on you; however, you were afraid to ask for his attention.
You couldn't quit thinking about how beautiful his hands were. You loved how his fingers moved with precision and grace, making you feel an odd mixture of admiration and desire. The longer you watched him, the more you imagined him touching you. You couldn't stop thinking about his hands running down your body till they landed on the band of your pyjama shorts. Spencer knew it he wasn't naive. He noticed how you would stare at his hands and bite your lips. He saw how your gaze remained fixed on them while he was reading, or how you would simply stare at them when you assumed he wasn't paying attention.
"Spence, I... I just," You couldn't admit your desire for his hands; you were only hoping he wouldn't see through your frozen expression.
"Are you feeling okay?" He asked. He sounded so calm, as if he hadn't caught you staring at his hands, and wishing he was doing something other than work.
"Yeah…why wouldn't I be?" You replied and gave him a forced and awkward smile, hoping he wouldn't ask anything more. The tension between you two was clear, but you attempted to hide it.
"Well, first of all, your face is kind of red, you were zooming out, and you were also staring at my hands." He spoke without breaking eye contact.
"I-I'm not staring," you responded quickly, attempting to explain yourself, but your stutter made you seem more guilty.
You could stop thinking how long have you been staring at his hands? What if he thought it was weird? What if you make him uncomfortable?
You hadn't dated Spencer for a while, and he didn't know all of your likes, so you were afraid to tell him.
When you finally mumbled, "I-I just... um, I really like your hands," you could feel the heat rising on your face. Spencer's face softened, a tiny smile spreading across his lips. "Well, in that case, I'll have to make sure to use them to hold yours more often," he said making you blush even more.
"Are you done with your work?" you asked eagerly, hoping to attract his attention.
With an innocent smile, Spencer shook his head and chuckled. "I have a few more things to finish up before I'm done," he said, noticing your disappointed look. "But I can come there and sit with you while I work if you'd like." You blushed again and nodded quickly, letting him know how much you wanted to touch you.
Your heart skipped a beat at Spencer's offer. You could feel his warmth and comfort spreading over you as he placed himself next to you. You looked at him, and you asked softly, "Can I lay with my head on your thigh?"
He nodded, and as your head rested on his leg, one of his hands played with your hair. You looked up to him with doe eyes and made yourself comfortable. Spencer's gentle touch and the way he stroked his fingers through your hair left you feeling desperate. Spencer's hand discovered your sweet place, and you let out a sweet groan. His touch caused shivers down your spine. You knew he was teasing you, so you placed your hand on his thigh and massaged small circles.
Your hands moved higher, attempting to reach the spot you desired the most. Spencer's breath caught as your hand came closer to where you wanted it, but it didn't get far. He grasped your wrist, and you glanced up at him innocently.
"Don't tease me, Y/N." You could see the desire in his eyes, which just increased yours. With a devilish smirk, you asked, "Who said I was teasing?" You felt like your entire body was on fire. You wanted him to touch, feel, and kiss you. He was so close and yet so far away; you weren't sure what got into you, whether it was his hands and how they made you feel or the way he played with your hair.
He looked down at you, smirking, and said, "Don't you want to be my good girl, Y/N?" His voice was deep but lovely, and it sent shivers down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat, and you nodded before even trying to process what he said.
"So don't tease me, love, and let me finish my job," he replied, releasing your wrist. But you weren't expecting this response, so you got up from his thighs . As you struggled to process his words, you felt a rush of eagerness and nervousness wash over you. You couldn't resist the anticipation of his domination, but you didn't want to wait.
"I don't want to wait," you said as you tilted your head. His eyes darkened, and he raised his eyebrows. "Impatient, are we?" he replied with a smirk, his hand trailing up your arm, leaving a small kiss on your shoulder. "I like that in you," he added before pulling you up to his lap. He left the file on the small table that was beside the sofa, and then his hands touched your waist.
He cupped the side of your face with one of his hands. "My girl's so needy that she can't even wait five more minutes," he said, and you bit your lips. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into his hand. "I can't help it when you're around," you whispered, feeling his grip tighten slightly in response. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, and you melted into the kiss, feeling a rush of warmth run through your body. His touch was intoxicating, and you knew you'd never want to be anywhere else than in his arms. Your hands slid up his thighs to the button on his jeans as soon as he pulled back. He sighed and dropped his head back as you unbuttoned his jeans. You were so eager that you almost didn't recognise yourself.
Before you could even remove his trousers, he stopped you with his hand on your wrist.
"Not so fast," he whispered, kissing you again. Spencer changed your position within a minute.
Now you were sitting on the sofa with your legs open and Spence on his knees between them. His hands moved gently over your body, making you feel warm with excitement. His intense gaze at you caused your heart to rush even quicker.
He was now staring up at you with an eager grin. Spencer's hands moved from your waist to your thighs before touching your pyjama shorts. With your help, he carefully slipped them down, exposing more of your skin to his desperate gaze. The air between you cracked with longing; you couldn't wait any longer; you needed him to touch and feel you. He was so close, you could feel his breath on your sensitive core. He hadn't even touched you down there, but you knew you were wet; you could feel the frustration running through your body.
"Please, Spencer," you asked. You had no idea what you were begging for, but you were willing to accept whatever he offered you. He wet his lips and used his hands to remove your panties. You stared down at him and realised that even though he was on his knees, he had complete control, which he proved as soon as his hands reached your clit.
Spencer teased you more, wanting to hear the sounds you made as a reaction to the pleasure he gave you. You bit your lips and pushed your hips towards him, aching to feel more.
"Patient," he replied without breaking his sight from you. He looked at you with lust and need, but he refused to touch you unless you begged him to. You knew Spencer would always make the wait worthwhile.
“Please, Spencer just- do anything, please I need- Ah.” you didn't have the time to complete your sentence and Spencer's mouth was now on your clit. He always knew how to please you, especially when he would eat you out. He was a man with an eidetic memory after all, of course he knew your body better than you.
“You’re such a t-tease Spence” you whined. He looked up at you with his gorgeous eyes and a smirk and before you knew it his fingers were inside of you. You were so wet already that his fingers could easily slip inside you. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, he couldn’t and the truth was that he didn’t want to. It was one of his favourite things to do, watching you fall apart just because of his fingers and mouth.
“P-please” you managed to say again.
“Begging is a good look for you, darling but I’m sure you don’t know what you are begging for, do you ?” he said with a grin.
“Don’t stop Spencer” you cried out.
Spencer was eating you out like a man starved. The fingering and eating duo was phenomenal and he knew that. He was practically making out with your clit.
When he pulled his fingers out you cried out feeling so empty, but immediately Spencer spread your pussy lips with his fingers as he pressed his tongue inside of you. Your back arched and a sinful moan left your lips. Your legs started shaking and you could feel yourself getting closer as you tried to close your thighs together. Spencer understood that and with his hand placed one of your legs on his shoulder.
“You want to come Y/N? ” he asked hot breath hitting your core and sending shivers through your spine.
“God-yes” you moaned as Spencer’s lips touched you again, you felt your clit pulsing and twitching in his mouth with his fingers once again inside you.
“Then cum to my fingers Y/N” Spencer whispered as your pussy squeezed rhythmically around his fingers finding your climax. You closed your eyes and your head fell back as you tried to catch your breath.
Spencer started leaving wet kisses on your thighs and when you finally opened your eyes and looked at him he said “I want you to ride me. Can you do that pretty girl?” he asked. You just nodded eager to please him.
When he placed himself next to you he helped you climb on him.
Spencer’s hands moved tightly around your waist, when he tried to place you on his thighs, sending goosebumps to your whole body. Your hand fell to the zipper of his jeans unzipping it as fast as you could. You could finally see how hard he was. You looked at him biting your lips so innocently, his eyes never looked away watching every move you made.
“Eating me out really does make you hard,” you whispered in his ear and smirked. His eyes darkened as he pulled you by your hair lightly to make you look at him.
“You’re in no position to tease baby, remember that.” He grunted softly “You were the one who was begging asking to be touched.” you blushed and tried to look away. “So if you want to cum I suggest to stop being a brat.”
Spencer always was talkative during sex but now he was being mean and bold.
“S-sorry” you managed to say.
With Spencer’s help, you remove his jeans and boxer his hard dick was licking with pre-cum as it hit his flat stomach.
You decided to tease him some more jerking his length with your palm as you go for a kiss, moans dying in your mouth.
“Just- Just ride me already” Spencer groaned you grinned at him before you opened your mouth and said, “And I thought I was the needy one”. His hands were now gripping your thighs trying to guide you on top of him and without any warning he slipped inside you. You were already wet because of your previous orgasm but Spencer was big and you could still feel the way he was stretching you out.
“Always so tight,” he breathed out. Spencer didn’t move he didn’t know just how badly you ached for him, so he waited to adjust to him. Your hands were resting on his chest, you were trying your best not to fall apart and collapse on him. As you sank down on him he knew he should help you but he loved watching you struggle. So you decided to take matters into your own hands, as you started straddling him. You opened slightly your mouth and a small cry left your lips. Your head fell back and you started moving. With every rise of your hips and bounce of your ass against him you were taking him deeper.
“P-please” Words were coiled at your throat, coming out as broken sobs, wishing for more but you were starting to get tired of doing all the work.
“If you want something, you have to use your words, babe” Spencer hissed. You tried to move faster but your legs were giving up on you. Spencer could feel the way your warm walls throbbed around him, but he also noticed how your pace slowed down.
“Can’t you handle it, baby?” He whispered in your ear leaving a wet kiss there.
“I can-fuck, I can handle it.” You were I mess, your lips were trembling and Spencer couldn't take his eyes off of you. Thrusting yourself up and down along his cock was causing your boobs to bounce in front of him begging him for his attention. And the next thing you know is that his mouth scatters wet kisses all over your boobs.
“Go faster,” he said plainly with a bit of a whine.
“I can't, too m-much Spence” you whined as you kept riding him.
“Oh you want my h-help” he managed to breathe out. You couldn't say anything your mind was far gone for a while now and the only thing that you could do was nod your head.
“Use your words, baby, you are a smart girl, Right” he teased you. He always knew what to say to make your walls throb around him.
“Pl-please help me” you stuttered.
“Help you with what baby, come on,” he said as he let his hands fall on your ass.
“Cum” you whined. You didn't have to ask him twice as he started helping you with your movement. Your hips were now slamming up too recklessly giving you exactly what you asked for.
“Faster—ah shit—“ you were a hot mess, but believe me Spencer loved the view.
“I'm sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making” he grinned at you teasingly. His fingers sank into the smooth fat, forcing your movements to speed up, and you're mewing, pleading with him to give you more, more, more.
Spencer was hitting that one spot and your eyesight was beginning to blur. He moaned loudly and bucked his hips up into you.
“Feels so good S-Spencer” you cried out. You started getting louder with watery eyes as you got closer to your orgasm, that was the signature of him to go faster. You could feel him pulsing inside you since he was getting closer as well. He placed his hand on your throat making you come closer to kiss you. Your eyes fell on his hands his veins were popping out and you couldn't take your eyes off of them.
“S-so pretty” you mewed before he kissed you. But you were struggling to kiss him back as he was fucking you so good.
“I-fuck S-Spence I’m g-gonna cum” you said.
“C-cum for me sweet” he stuttered softly while he was getting closer with every movement.
“So good…you’re doing so good, such a good girl for me,” he praised, suddenly overwhelmed by the pleasure your pussy had given him.
His praises practically take you over the edge, forcing you to lean forward and put your arms on his shoulders to hold yourself from falling on him while continuing to ride out your orgasm.
“Y/N” Spencer moaned “I’m cumming, don’t stop, please. Don’t stop” You always loved how he would beg as he was getting closer.
“Beg,” you said as you pulled his hair feeling more in control now as you keep riding him.
“Don’t…nghh- don’t be a brat” he groaned as he came inside you filling you up with his cums.
Spencer needed some time to catch his breath and calm down from his climax before he tried to help you stand up. But you shocked your head.
“I want to be close to you, please” you begged.
“You know actually the chances of-mphh” he started saying but you cut him off by kissing him.
“You know I don’t mind,” you said as you tried to stand up “But if it makes you uncomfortable I can always go clean up” you continued but before you could even get off of him he pushed back at him.
“N-no stay” he murmured. You nodded at him with a little smile and rested your head on his shoulder as he started talking about a new poem that he read.
Spencer maybe made you wait but he always fucked you like a gentleman.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
reblogs are always appreciated !
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
dying by the hand of a foreign man, happily
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ellabehavior · 11 months
Text
By your side ~ Rafe Cameron ❀
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Summary: Your ‘Friends’ are fake jealous bitches, but Rafe will always be there for you when you need it most.
Pairing: Soft Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
Warnings: bullying, mentions of weight, cheating.
A/N: Requests are open! Also kindve hate this but wtv
angst to soft!
-
Rafe wraps his arms around you from behind as he observes you finish applying your makeup for the girls' night out you and your friends had planned. First you guys were going to go shopping, and then to the bar.
“Promise me you’ll be safe” Rafe says as he leans his head on your shoulder and breathes your scent in.
“Rafe, why do you always do this everytime I try to hang out with them?” you asked with a roll of your eyes.
“Baby you know I don’t like them, they constantly are always saying snarky things and trying to make you look bad” He states while squeezing you tighter in his arms.
You think for a second and then say, “I think you’re reading too much into it, these girls have been my friends for over a year it’s nothing like that.”
“Just be safe okay?” he whispers.
“Yes Rafey, i’ll be home around 11:30.” You say back after wiggling out of his arms, and putting on your shoes.
You slightly laugh as you remember Rafes ridiculous comments. These have been your best-friends since last year, yeah sometimes they make jokes but it’s never serious.
“Hey girl!” Your friend Kenzie says as you hop in the passenger seat.
“Heyy!” you say with smile
The rest of the 3 girls in the back seem to ignore your presence but you just assume they aren’t in a talking mood.
Later, you all wind up at the fitting rooms after arriving at the mall and are all trying on various items that you all like. You try on this pretty blue summer dress and walk out to show all your friends, “What do ya guys think!” you say with a bright smile
“It makes you look fat” one of them says.
“Yeah it’s just not suiting for your … body yknow what I mean?” another goes on while they all laugh.
You start to look down, not trying to risk trying showing your true feelings while one of them says, “Don’t be such a baby, it’s just a joke”.
And with that you look up, and pretend to laugh.
Afterwards, when you guys are done trying things on, (you never tried anything else on after what happened) You guys went to get smoothies from Tropical smoothie.
“I might break up with my boyfriend I think he’s cheating on me” one of the girls says breaking the silence.
“Girl don’t even act like you don’t be cheating on him too” another said back to her as they both laughed.
“Imagine I broke up with Rafe, I wouldn’t know what to do” You laugh while trying to be included in their conversation.
“We would stop being friends with you, we are only friends with you because he is the most popular boy on the island” Kenzie says as the rest of them laugh.
They see you get quiet and Kenzie says, “Its just a joke are you going to cry the whole time here?” with a roll of her eyes.
“No it’s cool.” you whisper.
After a few more hours at the mall you guys arrive at the bar together, you immediately walk-in and down atleast 3 cups of alcohol to get the prior events out of your head. When the alcohol starts to hit you begin to dance around not giving a care in the world.
You danced for what felt like days, and finally you felt like you were ready to go home. You searched for Kenzie and the girls but you couldn’t find them.
“Excuse me?” You said to a random man that you believed Kenzie was talking to earlier, “Have you seen Kenz?”
“Yea, her and a bunch of girls left about an hour ago, they’re not here no more” he said with a puzzled look.
Fuck. You felt like your whole world was spinning around, they ditched you. You reached for your purse ready to call your boyfriend to pick you up but then you remembered you gave it to Kenzie to hold onto.
Those bitches ditched you and took your phone and purse.
“Can I please use your phone to call someone?” You requested with a puppy dog look.
“Yea.. Sure” The man said as he handed you his phone.
You shakily typed in Rafes phone number and put the phone up to your ear as it rang.
“Hello?” you hear a man say on the other side of the screen.
“Rafey. Please come pick me up. You were right, they left me here and took my phone!” you voice, holding back tears.
“I’ll be right there okay? wait for me.” He utters as you can hear the sound of keys move and a door shut.
And with that, you hang up, give the phone back the kind man and sit on the porch waiting for your boyfriend.
You should’ve listened, Rafe is always right about these kinds of things. Those girls have never done anything but make you feel bad about yourself. Anytime Rafe would be with you while you’re hanging out with them they always made you look dumb in front of him. All the puzzle pieces are finally coming together.
While being lost in your mind you feel a tap on your shoulder. “It’s okay baby, i’m here let’s go home” you hear him say.
“Rafe!” you almost scream, bursting out in tears.
“Shhhh. It’s okay, let’s go” he speaks as he picks you up and carries you into the passenger seat.
The whole car ride was silent, the air filled with your tiny sobs and his hand on your thigh soothing you.
When you arrived home, Rafe carried you in and gently sat you on the bed.
“We don’t have to talk about it today, okay? Whenever you feel ready we can.” He says while taking off your shoes and finding a shirt for you to change into.
“Okay. Don’t want to, just want to sleep.”
“That’s fine, i’ll be by your side the whole night.” He helps you take off your dress and puts his shirt over you to sleep in.
“I love you Rafe Cameron. I hope never loose you.” you say, half asleep.
Rafe lays down and pulls you into him with his head on your shoulder.
“You never ever will. I love you too.”
You fell asleep after that, but all Rafe was thinking about how he was going to get revenge for you, and he knew just who to call.
Topper, Kenzies boyfriend.
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ventismacchiato · 1 year
Text
33 behind the lens — please leave a message after the tone !
scaramouche x g!n reader
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When the phone call picks up you hear nothing but silence on the other end. You’ve been craving for his voice ever since your guys fight but it seemed like you were going to have to make the first step.
“I’m going to come over,” you state waiting for him to ask you to not. You were expecting it.
Instead you’re met with his hoarse voice.
“Okay,” is all he says before he cuts the call.
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It took you almost ten minutes to get the urge to even knock on his front door before giving up and sending him a text you’d arrived. You tried to calm your nerves in the midst of you shivering outside his house. It was rather pathetic.
The door finally creaks open and out steps a timid Kuni as he leans against the doorframe.
“Hey,” you awkwardly greet, digging your nails into your palm as he stares at you.
He sighs, eyeing your shivering figure, “Was this all some joke to you? Playing me along?”
“Of course not,” you quickly assure, “I really do like you.”
Kuni looks off for a moment, averting his eyes from you as he ponders his next words.
“What did you try to say to me in class earlier?”
You look down and swallow, “You left so suddenly, I had a whole speech planned and everything.”
The fire in Kuni’s chest roars to life as he takes a step closer towards you, “What was in the speech?”
You press your lips together tightly, fists planted at your side. You only had one shot at this before it all went to hell, you couldn’t fuck it up. Kuni could feel it too, the precipice you both are on. He wants to jump.
Now that he was in front of you the words you’d so carefully planned seemed to be lodged in your throat.
“I was scared you’d leave me,” you start, “I was terrified of you hating me even more if you’d found out I was Star all along, so I kept it a secret. If you’d known, you would’ve left, right?”
He goes quiet.
“If you had known, you would’ve left…right?” he repeats. The answer is hanging in the air. You were both hypocrites.
“I didn’t want to be with someone who hated the other side of me,” you say, trying to explain yourself as you slowly grew nervous, “Do you really hate me?”
Kuni hates the way your eyes look devastated. He hates the mere implication of that question. As if.
Kuni scoffed, stepping forward and out from under the shield of his roof. You both stood a foot apart as the weather around you continued to grow dim.
“What’s there to hate?” he scoffs, “I hate the way the person I thought I had to compete with for my entire career makes me feel good about myself. I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”
It was exactly what you’d craved to hear. But it seems the universe held some grudge against you, because right then it started raining.
“You’re a little dense if you think I actually fucking hated you,” Kuni continues, “I was pissed you let me find out like everyone else instead of just telling me. I assumed I meant more to you than that.”
“I don’t know what to say to show how sorry I am,” you start, shielding your eyes from the droplets of rain as Kuni pulls up the hood of his sweatshirt, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you on my own. You deserved that much from me.”
He merely nods as you speak, rain dancing around you. Even the weather was mocking you.
“So, you really never hated me?” you sputter, still in disbelief.
“What’s there to hate?” he scoffs, “Can’t believe I fell in love with someone so stupid.”
You can’t stop the smile from escaping at his words, your hair now damp and your clothes sticking to your skin, “You love me?”
“You really are fucking stupid, archons.,” is all Kuni replies, reaching out to tug you closer, his arms around your waist, “You’re freezing.”
“I was busy worrying that you were going to leave me to throw a jacket on,” you answer, voice muffled as you tuck your head in between the crook of his neck. You missed this. You missed him.
He lets out a chuckle and you feel like crying, you had craved the sound of him so much your heart ached.
“Can we be official this time?” you quietly say.
He lets his chin rest on your shoulder before humming.
“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”
You pinch his waist in response.
“Fuck off, obviously,” he grumbles, pulling himself off of you, “This is stupid why are we hugging in the rain, get inside.”
“I found it quite romantic,” you say as he ushers your in.
“You’re shivering,” he points out.
“You’re ruining the mood.”
For a moment, you both simply look at each other. There’s a few conversation topics that come to mind, all the things that had happened that week that you ached to tell him, but you realize you don’t need to force a conversation with him. 
Weariness shows in Kuni’s eyes, but you can tell he’s happy. Kuni is searching your expression for your thoughts, too. When your eyes meet he has a smirk on his face.
“I missed you,” he says. 
Your heart  skips a beat.
“We’ve been together for a while though,” you counter.
“The real you, the one not holding their breath around me,” he adds. 
“Well, the real me is all yours now.”
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behind the lens !
masterlist — prev | next
author’s notes — shoutout to @xingyunclouds 😈 only posting this cus he bought me robux
synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?
taglist — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilneps @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @satowaluverr @lexlapis @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos [1/3]
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atrueneutral · 2 months
Note
Imagine if Raphael was on the Material Plane in human form when he happens to cross paths with his little mouse (who he is infatuated with) and then, for one reason or another, someone mistakenly assumes that Tav is his spouse and refers to Tav as such ("Oh, apologizes, sir! I didn't realize your spouse would be joining you!"). How do you think he'd react? Do you think he'd go deer in headlights for a second? Would he just roll with it? Would he clear up the confusion?
Okay, I kiiiiind of tweaked this a smidge…
“That particular piece of armor will run you six-thousand gold.”
Tav balked at the price, and she over-dramatically cleaned out her ear with the tip of her pinky finger. “Sorry - I want to make sure I heard you correctly. You did say six hundred-”
“I said six thousand gold, yes. That’s exactly what I said,'' the dwarven armorsmith staunchly affirmed. His bushy mustache that she originally found fun suddenly became stupid, as did the squat face that hadn’t once smiled since her arrival into his stupid shop. “You can’t pull a fast one on me, lass.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, saer!” She performed offense with a hand to her chest and a face of aghastness. “How dare you accuse me of trying to trick you into giving me a fair deal on a piece of armor!”
“It’ll be the full price or nothing,” he gruffly replied.
The bell posted above the shop door jingled, and Tav could hear bootsteps sauntering up behind her as her brain worked to think of a way to attain the breastplate she wanted. She needed a plan that didn’t involve stealing, murder, or, more importantly, spending six-thousand of her hard-found and hard-earned (and sometimes-but-rarely hard-pilfered) gold...
She wanted this new breastplate, and–
The dwarf looked past her to the only other customer in the shop, and his eyebrows raised. “Lord Raphael! What an honor! How may I be of service?”
Lord Raphael?
Tav frowned and turned to see if it was who she thought (hoped) it was…
Her face lit up. 
It was!
Her solution - her knight in patterned doublet - was here! Her walking, handsome, charming bag of six-thousand gold!
Raphael seemed a tad befuddled by her enthusiastic reaction to his entrance, but that didn’t stop him from smirking at her. “Korrilla said she saw you nearby, and I thought I would see how-”
“-your wife was doing?” Tav finished. She pretended to be deeply touched as she strode up to him. “Oh, husband!”
His nose scrunched with more befuddlement. “Hus-”
Tav placed her hand against the side of his face and silenced him with a kiss. It was their first kiss, but because it needed to be between a husband and wife who were ardently and so-very-passionately in love with one another, Tav’s tongue ended up gliding over his lips in invitation after a handful of seconds. Surprisingly, Raphael accepted with a hum. His tongue entered her mouth and his tongue swirled around hers as he grabbed her hip.
As it turned out, Tav quite liked kissing him. So much so that she almost forgot she was standing in a shop and was well on her way of forgetting that she was only kissing Raphael because she wanted him to be her devilish coin purse.
Tav woozily broke the kiss, feeling weak in the knees.
“This is your wife, Lord Raphael?” the shop-owner asked with astonishment.
Tav, still against Raphael with her hip captured by his hand, stared at her ‘spouse’ with an expression that said: please say yes.
Looking past the lust in his eyes, the cambion stared back at her. His expression said: you’re up to something.
“I’ll pay you back,” Tav sang, grazing her thumb across his cheek with a smile. “After all, I did give you that wonderful… hat. The one that looks so nice and so perfect on your head. The hat that is better than alllllll the other hats in existence…”
“Did you not get something in return, Little Mouse?”
Tav twisted to give the shop-owner a heartened look. “Don’t you adore the pet name?”
The dwarf’s eyes narrowed.
“What is it that you want, wife?” Raphael asked with a tilt of his head. “A new deal will need to be struck.”
There were oftentimes instances where Tav’s mouth ran before logic and reason had the chance to catch up.
This was one such instance.
“I will clean the House, husband,” she replied, giving just as much bite to the fake title as he did to hers. “Naked.”
The offer threw kindling onto the fire in his brown eyes.
“For eight hours!” her logic and reason was quick to add. Tav tossed another glance behind her to the dwarf. “I’m so sorry you have to hear all of this. We like to have fun, my husband and I.”
Raphael’s hand squeezed her hip to draw her attention back to him.
“And what are you asking for in return?”
“Nothing, really…” She personified innocence and combed through his hair as if to put a stray lock back behind his ear. “Just a measly piece of armor… that I won’t be wearing… when I’m naked...”
She could tell Raphael was thinking of her naked.
And she could tell he liked what he was seeing.
“Very well, wife.” The grip at her hip jostled her, and he pulled her closer. His mouth lowered to her ear and his voice lowered in a way that melted her insides. “But you will be coming ‘home’ with me after this purchase, and I expect you naked once we’re in the door.”
She didn’t mean to moan, but it happened at the same moment her brain malfunctioned. Tav forgot she was standing in a shop, and she forgot about the breastplate; she was too busy imagining herself standing in a certain House with Raphael’s eyes on her naked body.
“Ahem,” announced the dwarf, bringing her back to reality. “My lord, with all due respect…”
Raphael breezed around her and landed at the shorter than average counter - leaving Tav gaping like a goldfish in the background.
“My wife requests the ‘measly piece of armor’,” Raphael said sarcastically.
Tav came back to earth. 
“The breastplate,” she corrected, her back to them.
“Yes, the measly breastplate,” Raphael additionally corrected.
“Of course, my lord. The cost comes to four-thousand gold.”
At that, Tav spun around - indignant.
“Hey! You said six-thousand, ‘take it or leave it’!”
The dwarf did not pay her any mind, and neither did Raphael.
“Four-thousand is an agreeable sum… yet I would like to offer you more,” the cambion said smoothly. “How about I pay you one-thousand now, and, say in three day’s time you come to Sharess’ Caress to see if we can’t work out a better deal?”
Tav was livid to see the shop-owner considering the offer.
“I accept, Lord Raphael. One-thousand gold for now.”
Tav returned to being a goldfish - sputtering nonsensically, enraged as Raphael snapped his fingers and handed over a pouch full of coin.
“For your wife,” the dwarf said, handing her new measly breastplate over to her ‘husband’.
“Ha! He’s not my husband!” Tav declared, needing to spread the foolishness she felt onto the shop-owner.
Raphael chuckled as he strolled over to her with the armor in hand.
Tav glowered at him. “Smooth-talking bastard…”
He stopped before her, snapped again, and the breastplate disappeared. “The breastplate is yours - once the House is clean and tidied, dearest wife.”
He held out his hand to her. 
“I regret giving you your hat,” she said, taking his offered palm.
“We’ll see if you feel the same - after your eight hours.”
Raphael smiled as heat swam in her core, and he teleported them to his House of Hope with a burst.
In the ‘door’ where they stood, his smile became exceedingly devilish.
“Now, my little mouse of a wife… strip.”
[Part ll]
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iamnotokaythx · 11 months
Text
part 2 to the miguel fic. its rly terrible and not finished but i need to get this out or ill never finish it
tw: miguel is delusional, mentions of his past, not native spanish so i used spanisdict, none of this is thought out nor proofread and i am so burnt out that none of the plot is comprehensive
“hello?” you mutter. the couch you’ve been draped over feels gross. the room is hot and your skin sticks to the material. leather? maybe faux leather. you push the thoughts away—what you’re more concerned about is where you are.
“y/n! dios mio, okay, good, you’re awake!” miguel rushes in breathlessly from the other room and sits on the floor in front of you. “i always get so… so scared when i use the venom on you. i don’t know what i’d do if you didn’t wake up. i mean, it’s already been two days, if you didn’t wake up soon i’d probably have—“ he rambled before stopping abruptly. “…i’m glad i didn’t hurt you.”
you’re not quite sure how to respond. you try to kick your feet to sit up, but your ankles are stiff. realizing how your skin feels, you realize your feet are tied together with the futuristic cuffs he’d only threatened you with before.
“did you cuff me? what the fuck?”
“i-i didn’t want to! you left me no choice.”
“you have plenty of choice! choose to let me go. i want to go home.”
“i can’t do that. you could get hurt! your dimension could collapse, a villain might kill you, or you might die from a mugging. i can’t let you go.” he’s explained his reasons a million times over. his gaze is pleading for you to understand, to forgive him.
“as opposed to your venom? i think i’d rather take a bullet than that ‘slow and painful death,’ but i’d honestly rather have the venom than spend another year of my life with you.”
you know you shouldn’t have said that. you can practically see his heart shatter at your words. miguel’s eyes widen and he blinks rapidly. tears are threatening to spill from his eyes. he swallows and stands up. a shaky smile pulls itself onto his lips.
“you were just angry. it’s okay. you didn’t mean it. it’s okay. you still love me, right? you—“ his voice breaks. “you love me! you do.” tears prick his eyes and he paces back and forth. “you love me!” he shouts. “say it. say you love me.” he whispers as he suddenly lunges himself towards the couch and gets in front of you on his knees. he sinks his hands onto your thighs, begging you to just please say those three minuscule words.
“miguel, i—“ you used something other than a nickname, it was the first time in a while.
“no—no, no, no, no, no. just say it.” he murmured.
you stay silent.
“you don’t even have to mean it. just say it, okay? …y/n?”
“…okay. sure. i love you.” you decide to appease him because he gets awfully clingy when he’s upset and that’s something you’d rather not deal with. “just tell me where we are.”
miguel’s head shot up. he exhaled in relief.
“we’re in a safe house. nueva york is miles away. it’s-it’s okay, don’t worry, i’ve spent a lot of time and money on this. you’re really gonna like it here. i was planning on moving us out here for a long while, but your little outing was the push i needed.”
“…why do you bother keeping me prisoner? what’s in it for you?” you decide to ask.
miguel’s hopeful smile dropped. “um, i love you. isn’t that enough? i know that the whole ‘permanent house arrest’ is a little too far… but given enough time you’ll be able to earn back my trust. we can go back to nueva york after a while, if you want.”
“is LYLA at least installed in the house?”
“…yes? why?”
“so i have someone to talk to.”
“you have me, cariño.”
“…so i have someone to talk to when you’re not at work.” you correct yourself.
“oh. okay, that’s understandable.” he said absently. he shook his head and flashed a smile. “do you want me to cook you anything?”
“sure.” you reply simply. “i don’t care what.”
“right, you must be starving. it’s okay, i’ll make a little of everything.” he kissed your forehead and stood up, hurrying to what could only be assumed was the kitchen. he hums a song you were able to recognize while he turns the stovetop on and you hear the sound of food cooking. awkwardly, you shamble to a sitting position.
“miguel?”
no reply.
“miguel, can you hear me?”
was he doing that petty bullshit again?
“miggy.” you call out unenthusiastically.
“sí, mi querido?”
“turn the cuffs off.”
“sure thing, amor.” the cuffs on your ankles opened and you stretched uncomfortably.
“i would rather you use my name.”
“it’s just a nickname. would you rather i call you ‘darling’ or ‘dear’ or something?”
“i would rather you call me y/n.”
“you know i can’t do that. you’re my partner. maybe even spouse if we get the chance. i could never just call you y/n!” you can tell he’s smiling from the tone of his voice.
“we aren’t dating.”
“yes we are!” he laughs enthusiastically. “why else do you call me all those cute nicknames? i mean, my favorite’s definitely ‘baby,’ but every time i talk to you you call me some kinda nickname.”
“i called you ‘baby’ when we’d date. and i call you nicknames because you ignore me otherwise.” you correct him this time.
“hm. so we are dating!”
“is that seriously what you got out of this goddamn conversation? no. we aren’t dating.”
“of course, my love. hey, let’s not argue, hm? agree to disagree?”
you sigh in annoyance and stand up from the leather couch. it’s the only leather furniture item, as far as you can tell. the bottom floor seems to be rather big, very well decorated.
some of your favorite flowers are withering in a glass vase. miguel never cut the stems and the water hasn’t been changed in a while.
there’s a large living room, the kitchen, a bathroom, a dining room, and a library/pool table room. on the upper floor, there’s a master bedroom with a balcony that overlooks a lake, a master bathroom, 2 guest bedrooms, and a nondescript closet.
outside is a small flower garden and a lake, as well as a large shed. the entire house is surrounded by trees and there aren’t any obvious paths back to civilization.
“miguel! am i allowed to go outside?”
you look back and see he’s out of the kitchen, walking towards you. when he meets your gaze he paused and you turn back to the window. you feel miguel step closer to you and place his hands lightly on your hips.
“y/n. you know about… my wife. and my daughter. i want another chance with you. i… want you… to want a chance with me.”
…way to completely miss the question.
“get a different me. from some other dimension. one where i’m so terribly lonely that i would fall for everything you say.”
“that’s not funny.”
“it’s hilarious.”
you hear him sigh.
“i love you. i know that you’ll love me back eventually.”
“i did love you, miguel—and quit that petty nickname shit, by the way—i loved you way before you kidnapped me. i don’t know if i can ever think of you as anything other than my captor, at this point.”
“no. don’t say that. you still love me.” he insisted softly. he must be seriously delusional. “it’s been two fucking days of you just… lying there! motionless! i thought i hurt you. i did hurt you. i need to make it up to you—but do you know how scary that was? to see you still and pale on the couch? i can’t do that again. please, just play nice, okay?” his back was tensed and he was blinking back tears again. he must be in a very fragile state, killing his wife and daughter accidentally and then almost killing his partner on purpose.
“fine, we can talk about this later. can i please go outside… baby?” you spit the pet name out like it’s poison. a smile quirks up from under his tear-filled eyes.
“yeah. i planted all of it just for you.” he promised, wiping his eyes and then taking you by the hand and leading you to the backdoor.
part 3 coming never probably god i hate everything /hsrs
i am just rly bad at continuing things ok :(
754 notes · View notes
boyfhee · 9 months
Text
യ CRUSHED : PARK JONGSEONG TEASER
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SYNOPSIS : fifteen years, a lost love, untold feelings, a breaking heart— crushed. they say if you wish desperately enough for something, the whole universe gets together to give it to you. perhaps, it's the reason why you find yourself back in your highschool, fifteen years ago, with a fluttering love, some lingering feelings, a doting heart, and your first heart break— park jongseong.
or wherein, life gives you another chance with your first love.
GENRE : fantasy, angst, romance, time travel
WC : teaser is 0.7k, est 10k+ for fic
WARNINGS : angst but with a happy ending guys trust me, a lot of mentions of crying, alcoholic drinks, more will be added in the main fic post
NOTES : i knew my jay era would give birth to a jay long fic i say we cheer :› NO BC THIS MAN IS SO FINE just like this fic i'm planning saur. please read. i hope u enjoy the teaser, send an ask / drop a comment to join the taglist
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it’s the invitation you’ve been looking at for ten minutes now, standing outside the venue. papers coloured rose, golden letters engraved, names and air spilling with love. it’s the mood of the day, the flow of a typical august wednesday that carries you inside the venue, to the celebration hall. the air inside smells of fresh roses, it’s expected when you see a huge bunch used as decoration in every corner and on table tops. and then you look at the invitation again.
joo miran weds park jongseong.
your best friend weds your other best friend, your first best friend. your first crush. your first love.
the subtle silence in the air was deafening until you see jay sneaking into miran’s suit, or so you assume, although it’s true. from sneaking into her classes to sneaking into her room at night to take her out for a midnight date, sneaking across hallways to catch a glance— just one look, even a fraction of a second is enough— to now, sneaking around the wedding hall to savour that ‘just one look’ at the bride, his bride, as if a lifetime isn’t waiting for them. 
“i thought grooms and brides weren’t supposed to see each other before the wedding,” it’s your voice that stops jay from kissing her cheeks, although you know he would’ve still done it if he wanted to.
“ah well—” he rubs the back of his neck, it’s a habit that gives away his nervousness. habits are hard to change, let alone letting go of one. “do you really expect me to hold back when she looks like this?” and he looks at her as if she put the stars in the sky, or as if she’s a star herself, graced upon earth for him, and only for him. knowing jay, he would say it. 
“you look good too,” you look perfect, you wanted to say. however, you don’t. you don’t know why, it’s normal for friends to compliment each other. you don’t know how many times you’ve called him handsome, you don’t know the last time you called him that. “congrats, by the way,” 
and loving jay is a habit. 
“thanks,” she smiles, looking at you. “wouldn’t have been possible if not for you,”
it’s something you can’t get out of yourself. no amount of blind dates can do it for you, no amount of heartbreaks can colour him bad. 
“no really,” his voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you unconsciously smile a bit more. “thanks for setting me up with miran,” 
no amount of time can push you forward to move on from him. fifteen years, a lost love, untold feelings, a breaking heart— crushed. the world moved on, you did too, yet your heart is still there— gyeonggi suwon international school, fourth floor, the first class from the stairs. fourth desk, the one right next to the window, a view expanded across the school ground, a way for you to watch jay’s football matches between lessons. 
his heart is with someone else while yours is where you realised your feelings for him, left behind— crushed. 
and it’s a shame to live like this, as if there’s no point to life. to hold back tears at your best friends’ wedding, to force a smile when they kiss, to stare from a distance when she threw the bouquet, to cry in the washroom after all is done. head buried in your hands, muffled sobs as you hear a few women talk outside your stall. you don’t pay attention to them, you couldn’t. you had realised you couldn’t pay attention to anything that wasn’t him or about him. so you just sit there, head buried in hands, eyes closed, not paying attention to anything.
yn.
you hear your name. 
once.
yn?
twice.
“yn,” thrice. “are you okay?” and you turn around, it’s the same scenario— gyeonggi suwon international school, the fourth desk by the window, the sunlight falling upon. your eyes meet his, and then his smile. your best friend, your first best friend.
your first heartbreak.
“wanna get ice cream on our way back home?” you nod instinctively, habitually. it’s how things went fifteen years ago when you had realised your feelings for him. it feels the same, fluttering love, lingering feelings, a doting heart, and park jongseong.
crushed. 
534 notes · View notes
kpop-yes · 8 months
Text
Xiaoting x male reader - F*ck Practice, F*ck me instead
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You woke up to the sun beaming down your my face and Ting on your chest, sleeping deeply,
And very loudly to say the least.
The last thing you could remember was being very drunk at a party and Ting having to walk you home,
___
It was around 2:00 in the morning and it felt like the party could go on forever, But you wouldn't last till 3, You were drunk as hell and could barely walk nor talk.
But all that mattered to you was that you could still see and hear and that's all that you cared about.
But to Ting, You looked like a drunk piece of mess that couldn't walk by himself. She could barely focus on partying without turning her back to look at you.
What made her reach her limit was you asking for yet another drink to wash down the other hundred bottles you already drank.
After saying bye to her friends, she walked over to you, made you stand up, put your arm on her shoulder, and supported you while walking back to your dorm.
You could barely register what was happening as the ringing in your ear didn't stop and you couldn't even see properly.
After reaching your dorm, Ting reached into your pockets snd dug out your keys.
After laying you down on your bed, Ting grabbed her bag and was about to walk out when you grabbed her hand,
"Stay Ting, Please".
"Fine, Only to make sure you don't die in your sleep".
___
And here you were, Ears still ringing and your vision still horrible but at least you had Ting by your side.
After staring at the ceiling for 20 minutes m, you realized how shit you smell and slowly crawled out of bed while trying not to wake Ting up.
Your plan was unsuccessful as Tong almost woke up instantly as you stood up.
"Morning Ting", you said while waving at her.
"What time is it Y/n?"
You looked at the clock, "1:35, why?"
Ting looked shocked and you couldn't help but giggle at her reaction.
"Did we really sleep for that long?!"
"Yeah, I guess so. Anyways Imma take a shower. Feel free to whatever you want as long as it's not illegal", you said while grabbing a pair of clothes and waved.
You assumed that she'd just end up leaving, so you left the bathroom door unlocked.
You took off your clothes and hopped inside the shower.
The first thing you did was put on shampoo and clean your body.
You heard a door close but you assumed it was Ting leaving, But oh how wrong you were.
You continued your shower session, which included a lot of lip syncing to songs and whistling.
After almost finishing your shower, all that was left was too put on your conditioner.
You grabbed your conditioner but heard something behind you.
"Let me see it, I can put it on your hair for you".
"Okay thanks, here", You passed the conditioner to whoever was behind you, not knowing who was behind you.
It wasn't until after a couple of seconds that you realized that someone else was in the shower with you.
You turned around in shock to see Tong standing there with a smile.
"What are you doing here?!" You shouted in confusion.
"What? You were going to hog all the hot water so I might as well be in here as well", She said while Squirting some conditioner on her hand,
"Now turn around so I can Put conditioner on your hair"
You did as she said and she applied the conditioner on your hair.
Her smooth and silky fingers ran through your hair as she thoroughly made sure every strand of hair was lathered in Conditioner.
After a couple minutes Ting sprayed water on your hair and gave you the conditioner,
"Here, now do my hair"
"O-Okay", you nervously responded as you squirted some conditioner on your hand.
You couldn't help but look down at her beautiful round ass.
She could obviously tell what you were looking at so she purposely dropped a brush and bent down to pick it up.
"Like what you see Y/n~"
"W-What, I don't know what you're talking about, now stand still so I can put the conditioner on your hair", You regretfully said.
You thoroughly went through her hair, but you couldn't really concentrate as she was purposely standing in a way where her ass was touching your legs and partly your member.
After thoroughly scrubbing the conditioner, you sprayed water over hair and washed the conditioner off.
"There, happy?"
"Very, But you know what else looks happy?"
She was obviously talking about your member as it was basically rock hard.
"I think your just talking nonsense Ting", You said and turned around to turn the water off.
Ting then hugged you from behind,
"Come on, let's have some fuuunnn, don't you want to know how it feels to have sex with a kpop star?"
"No, Besides you have practice today, what if you're late?"
"Fuck Practice! Id Rather have sex with you then go to practice!"
"No Ting, Your going to practice, I don't want to be the cause for you being late because you want to fuck".
You put on boxers and handed a towel to Xiaoting while still arguing,
"And? like I said, fuck practice, and Stop turning me down Y/n! I'm older than you so you should listen to your elders!"
"Your only half a month older than me? And right now your acting like immature brat!"
You walked to your room while
"Yeah, a brat that wants to have sex with you! Come on Y/n, it won't take that long!"
"I refuse to believe you, last time you told me that it wouldn't take long you missed your whole practice session and your company were on your ass for missing!"
You were about to put on pants when Ting pushed you onto the bed,
"Yeah well it wasn't my fault you wouldn't let mw ride you! If you didn't refuse I wouldn't have missed practice! So now you owe me!"
"I don't owe you shit! And you were still toing to miss practice without arguing! I'm not having sex with you Ting!"
"Why! Is it because you fucking hate my guts?!
"What?! I never said anything about hating your guts, besides if I hated you when we first met I wouldn't have been Rearranging Your guts in the first place!"
Ting climbed on top of you while pulling down your boxers,
"So then lets have sex Y/n! I promise it won't take that long", she begged.
You knew that it would take that long, but this argument would go nowhere if you kept arguing with her.
You knew she'd miss practice but if she wanted you that bad then you'll let her have you.
*exhale* "Okay fine, bug if you miss practice that'll be your fault Ting".
"I won't, besides you won't last long with someone like me~"
"Just cause your an idol that doesn't mean your automatically better at fucking someone Ting".
"Shush, let me handle this", she said as she slowly stroked your member.
Her speed slowly increased as she started spitting on your member.
She took a deep breath before taking your member whole.
It was a sight to see as you couldn't handle but moan at her actions.
Her gagging made you feel like you're in heaven.
She pulled back while gasping for air,
"Geez I don't remember your dick being this
big Y/n~".
You pug your hand on Ting, and after getting the okay signal, you started face fucking Ting. Her gagging made you move faster knowing that every time you hit the back of her throat with your member that you were about to blow your load inside her throat.
You started feeling a bit lightheaded, but nonetheless you kept face fucking Ting.
Looking at Ting, and her face covered in saliva and her eyes asking to be ruined.
The harder you face fucked Ting, the closer you were to your limit.
You felt your member twitching and realized you were about to blow your load inside her throat.
"Ah, Ting Your so fucking tight ah! I'm about to cum!"
And after a few seconds, you released your load into Ting's tight throat, You kept your member in her mouth for a minute before pulling out.
Ting immediately started gasping for air, showing how hard you fucked her mouth,
"Geez Y/n You really liked that didn't you, But now it's my turn~"
And with a swift spin, Ting was now on top of you.
"I've been waiting to do this since forever~"
adjusting yourself, you knew Ting was about to ride you hard, this was one of her biggest fantasies ever since you two started dating.
Ting started hovering above your member, slowly teasing it before slowly inserting herself into you.
She slowly slid herself while moaning the whole way.
When she reached the end of your member, that's when she started thrusting.
Moans escaping left and fight, as you two couldn't  contain your emotions.
The more ting kept riding you the more you felt lightheaded.
You knew how ferocious ting could get and how much stress she had.
And know she was unloading all that stress on you.
Ting’s riding became more powerful as her ass smacking your lap increasingly became louder and so did her moans.
You tried you best to stop her moans and riding from getting to loud but there was no stopping Ting when she’s about to reach her climax.
To sort of neutralize the noise, you started making out with her, trying your best to mute out the loud moans coming from her.
“Mmm~, Fuck! Y/n! Im about to fucking cum! ah!”
And with one last, powerful, thrust, Both of you simultaneously orgasmed.
You spewed loads of your cum inside of her, Overfilling her, causing dome of your liquids to spill out of her vagina.
All you could do was stare at her and admire her body,
“One more round?”
483 notes · View notes
allysunny · 8 months
Note
Hello. Can I request a fic with Nanami and the reader? The reader has a toxic family and asks Nanami to be her fake boyfriend at the family meeting. If possible, it could be comforting.
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Faking it for the Family | Nanami Kento x Reader
Words: 5.5k
Warnings: Toxic family, mentions of weight (as in, berating and telling someone to watch what they eat), very rude comments from Reader's family, maybe some OOC Nanami? I don't know, you tell me! And please do warn if I forgot something :)
A/N: Aaaa my first Nanami request! I'm so excited about this! I love this man with my whole heart, he's my biggest anime crush of all time! Now, I do warn you, it's been a while since I've touched jjk (it was a traumatic experience, shibuya is my canon event), so if you think Nanami is OOC, then that might be why. But I can also see him being vocal when it comes to someone he cares about, protecting them and expressing his feelings - or at least trying to.
I hope I did your request justice! I'll be honest, I'm very fortunate to come from a very healthy and loving family, and don't quite know the dynamics a toxic one would have. Nevertheless, I did some research, and I hope you're happy with the final result! I also stayed up until like, 2am because I wanted to post this one before I went on a small vacation and stopped writing for a few days! Totally worth it!
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“Your what?”
“My boyfriend.” You repeated firmly.
Scratch that, you were scared shitless.
A few days ago, your mother had called you, asking (more like demanding you) to come see her. According to her, only “bad, ungrateful children” abandoned their parents. According to her, you were turning into a “bad, ungrateful child”.
“You don’t call, you don’t visit. It’s like we never did anything for you, is that how you treat the people who brought you up?” She nearly cried into the phone. Victim-blaming was along your mother’s strongest talents, it always had been.
She’d also reminded you that it would be a shame if you showed up single. She gushed about your cousins, how lovely their wives and husbands were, and how you clearly weren’t working hard enough to find a man.
“It’s not like you have much to offer, dear. The least you could do is prove yourself to be useful, make sure you find a nice man and snatch him up. Perhaps if you learned how to cook properly instead of pursuing that silly passion for books… And you need to start putting some effort into your appearance! No man wants a dishevelled woman – look at how well your cousins are doing!” Then, dismissing her whole behaviour, she’d go, “You know I’m only saying this because I care about you, right? It’s for your own good.”
It made you shudder just from thinking of it.
You’d nearly glared a hole into your phone that night, considering cancelling.
You ran all options through your head.
If you pretended you were sick, your mother would just assume you couldn’t take care of yourself and visit you to do that herself.
Hard pass.
If you said you had plans, your father would tell you to prioritize the family who had sacrificed so much to give you a good life, and to stop being so selfish.
Hell no.
No option seemed good enough.
In the end, your parents would always find a way to make you feel inferior and blame you for not being able to attend. You wouldn’t hear the end of it for at least a few months.
That’s not something you wanted for yourself.
You considered your mother’s words.
Going alone seemed like a nightmare alright. But perhaps if you found someone to attend with you…
There was no significant other in your life (the nail in your coffin, just another reason for your parents to berate you, and you it’s not like you could fall in love with someone in a span of 4 days just to introduce them to the family.
And then, an e-mail from a coworker gave you a brilliant idea.
Nanami Kento was one of your coworkers.
You weren’t the closest offriends, but still – friends.
You two went out for drinks after work every so often, sometimes ordering a box of pizza to share while working overtime at the office. God knew how much you hated it, being forced to work longer than expected, but Nanami shared the same sentiment, and it made work more bearable for you.
You didn’t talk much outside of work – Nanami was a private, reserved man, and you never did have the courage to seek him out. So you settled for a few jokes at the office here and there, the occasional smile, and bringing him bread and pastries sometimes. Nanami was quite the foodie. Outside office hours, maybe a “Have a nice weekend”, or if you were feeling brave enough, a meme – it took him a while to get them, but it was amusing to get his reaction through text.
He was smart, kind to a fault, and handsome. Very much so. You knew he was single, and to be fair, you had no idea why. With those lovely, warm chocolate brown eyes and golden hair, he could get any woman he wanted. And God, his physique… You had once tripped and held onto his arm – the man was made of rock. He was a total catch, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about your little overtime endeavours to end up with a goodnight kiss, or perhaps something more. In fact, you’d developed a little crush on him, sneaking away during lunch breaks to try and talk to him, catch up, or just know how he’s doing.
That’s why he was perfect.
Your parents would be appeased, and the family gathering would be much more bearable.
“It’ll just be for a night,” You continued, trying not to sound very desperate. You weren’t sure where you stood with him – were you two close enough to ask such a favour? “We don’t have to do anything physical – just maybe hold hands so they can get off my back. I’ll be forever in your debt, please. I need your help.”
Nanami looked at you curiously. You could see his eyes clearly – Nanami had foregone his glasses during lunch break. What was he thinking? Perhaps he was reconsidering his whole friendship / acquaintanceship. Maybe he was simply coming up with a way of politely declining. Nanami had always been to kind to trifle with you or mock you, God, you’re so stupid, why would he go out of his way to help someone he’s not that close with? It was idiotic to ask.
“Never mind that.” You mumbled, quickly shaking your hand, and dismissing the idea. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a weird request and we don’t know each other that well, and – “
“Sure.”
Your eyes must’ve turned as wide as saucers. Sure?
“If it would help you out and ease your mind, I don’t mind it at all.” He replies, the soft lull of his hypnotising voice making your heart skip just a bit. “I do know what it feels like to be surrounded by people you’re not fond of.”
You suppose he’s right. Every year when the company dinner takes place, you find yourself sitting in a corner, hidden from everyone else. It’s the one time of year where you two can actually talk and consider each other more than simply two coworkers. Maybe even relatively good friends.
You beam at him, bowing profusely. There were no words to describe what you felt – this man was willing to be your fake boyfriend for a whole evening?
“Thank you so much! This means so much to me, you can’t even imagine it!”
Nanami simply nods.
“Shall I pick you up at seven?”
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Most often, people stared at themselves in the mirror to check their appearance, try on clothes, maybe give them an ego boost. You? You were practicing facial features.
A hard smile for when your mother told you to “Eat less – you’re gaining weight.”
A polite nod for when one father eventually said “You need to give up those silly hobbies of yours – become a real woman, a good wife.”
A dry chuckle for when one of your many cousins gushed about the wonders of marriage, and how amazing it is they got married so young, to fully explore all romantic bliss and life alongside your soulmate – or something. You never made it twenty seconds without appearing bored of your mind and making your way to an empty chair away from others.
You just hoped they’d leave you alone for tonight, or at least stop with the comments. You wouldn’t be able to handle being humiliated in front of Nanami, of all people.
Speaking of, it’s nearly seven, so you grab your purse and make your way downstairs. Your outfit is nothing bland, just like how your parents would like it. A simply yellow jumper and denim jeans – God forbid you wore a skirt too short, or a shirt too flashy in front of your family. You’d be sure to burn at the stake for that one. This outfit was simple and modest and was sure to keep them quiet for a few minutes.
A little ring from your phone broke your line of thinking.
From: Nanami Kento
I’m outside.
You quickly spotted him in his car, and your jaw hung.
He swiftly exited the vehicle, walking towards the passenger’s side and opening the door wide for you.
You don’t know what to say.
So, he does it for you.
“Good evening.” He’s looking extra dashing, with a dark blue polo shirt that hugs his figure ever-so-perfectly, and slacks. His hair is parted as usual, but it seems much more casual, less uptight, less professional. He’s once more refused to wear his glasses, so you can see his beautiful face up close.
His strong jawline, the strong planes of his face, the thin eyebrows that never did much to conceal his eyes – he looked straight out of a fairytale. The fact that he looked so relaxed, out of his business attire and clad in casual clothes, made this vision much more alluring.
“Hey,” You answered, giving him a soft smile. “You didn’t have to do this; I could open the door by myself.”
“Nonsense.” Nanami shook his head, gesturing to the inside of the car. “Shall we go?”
As soon as you buckled your seatbelt, he left the driveway. You’d sent him the coordinates before, so there was no getting lost as long as you followed the GPS.
There was a small awkward silence between the both of you – it was only normal. You and Nanami didn’t hang out that much after office hours, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that you would have no topics to discuss.
“So…” You started wearily. Might as well warn him about your family. There was no way you were letting this man meet them without being prepared. “I should warn you in advance – my family is…. Well, they’re not conventional.”
“Hm? How so?” He questioned you, quirking an eyebrow yet never taking his eyes off the road.
“They… They might make some rude comments. Or say things that make you uncomfortable. I know I told you about it the other day when I asked for this favour, but I just want to reiterate it. They’re… Well, they’re hard to deal with.” You finished. There was no other way to describe your family.
Growing up, they’d been all but supportive. Berating you left and right, making you believe you were as worthless as the trash on the street. Nothing you did ever amounted to anything. Your grades were never enough. Your passions were always overlooked – the books you read “filled your head with crazy fantasies”, the music you listened to “polluted your mind”.
If you left the house with no makeup on, your mother would assume you weren’t trying hard enough. Would say you looked sloppy and dirty, and that it was shameful to see you not even attempt to pull yourself together. And when you did leave the house looking pretty and proud of yourself, your parents would break down your confidence once more, assuring you that you’re clearly trying too hard, and that men don’t want woman who paint their faces as if they were clowns and dressed in skirts so short, they barely earned the name.
Your achievements didn’t matter. Not when your cousins earned scholarship after scholarship, brought home successful, handsome men or women, assuring the family they were well off and didn’t need to worry about much.
To your family, all it mattered was your image. To them, you were the black sheep of the family. No partner, no children, no high paying job, no success. Considering their mentality, how they still associated themselves with you was a puzzle.
Not even once did they stop to consider your feelings.
Moving out had been the best thing that happened to you.
Sure, it was hard at first.
You spent too long in front of the mirror, wondering if you looked good enough. While conversing with others, it was difficult to open up about your passions and hobbies, for fear of being shut down and dismissed.
But slowly, you’d regained control of your life. You went out when you wanted, with who you wanted. You wore the clothes you liked, without worrying about your parents’ hurtful remarks.
Nowadays when you looked in the mirror, you saw a proud young woman, as opposed to the scared little girl you saw in your early years.
Which made returning to them ever so difficult. They managed to turn you back into that frightened little girl you once were, always so afraid of saying the wrong thing, of doing the wrong thing and making them look bad. They managed to destroy all of the confidence and self-love you’d built for yourself all these years.
“I’m sorry.”
It was Nanami’s voice that brought you back to reality.
“Huh?”
“I’m sorry. Clearly, a family that treats you that way does not deserve you.” He said, matter-of-factly. Like it was the easiest thing in the world, to admit the family that spent years breaking you simply wasn’t worth your time and thoughts.
“Yeah, well.” You mumbled, looking out of the window. What could you say? In theory, you knew he was right. He had to. Other friends who knew about your past told you as much. But it was a completely different story to put that into practice.
For the rest of the ride, a silence fell upon the both of you. None attempted to break it.
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“Remember our story, right?” You questioned the man next to him. He stood right next to you, tall as a tower and just as unmoving. You could never guess what was going on in that beautiful head of his.
Nanami nodded silently, turning to you.
“Are you sure you want to do this? We can make up an excuse and leave, if you want to.” He said, and for a while, you considered it. It’d be nice to ditch on your family and spend some time with your coworker. But once again, you knew how this movie ended.
Sighing, you shook your head and gave him a weak smile.
“It’s okay. It’s just for one night.”
He nodded once again.
You took a deep breath and stepped forward, ringing the doorbell.
Almost immediately, the door opened, making way for a woman none other than your mother.
She looked so… so… perfect. Annoyingly so. It made your blood boil. It reminded you of how, in her eyes, you were most definitely not perfect.
Nanami glanced at the woman in front of you. She looked like a perfect copy of you. Or rather, you were a perfect copy of her. But there was a clear difference between the two: While she looked uptight, abnormally prim, and proper, way too polished, you looked, well, natural. This woman looked like her only job was to look good, while you were an effortless beauty. He can only imagine what kind of things a woman like this could’ve told you all your life to make you so nervous back in the car.
“Honey!” She chirps in a voice he can only describe as fake. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!” She pulls you win for a hug, mumbling and muttering about how long it had been since you’d last seen her, how unkind of you that was, how you had no consideration for your family. Ouch.
“Hi mom,” Was your hushed answer as you tried your best to hug her back. And then just as quickly, tried to get away from her bone-crushing embrace. “Y-You can let go now.”
And she did, staring right at Nanami.
“Oh.” She very obviously stared at him up and down. There was no subtlety to the way she ogled him, and you felt some strong second-hand embarrassment from her actions. “And who might this fine young man be? Did you finally step up and get yourself a nice man?”
You sighed. This was going to be a very, very long night.
Nanami stepped forward, placing a warm hand on the small of your back, a hand that slowly brought you closer to him.
“Good evening, Mrs.” He said politely, offering his hand for the woman to shake. She did so gladly, showing him a perfect smiled. A perfectly forced smile. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Mom, this is Nanami Kento. He’s… He’s my boyfriend!” The words felt nice in your mouth, natural. It’s like he was meant to be your boyfriend. Boyfriend. That’s nice.
“Boyfriend! Oh! It’s so nice to meet you!” The woman exclaimed, pulling him inside. “Come in, come in! Of course, you’d be late – We were all waiting for you!”
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When you told Nanami your family was harsh, he was picturing something very different. Maybe some unwanted jokes here and there. A comment about your major, a joke about your driving, maybe even some embarrassing childhood stories.
He wasn’t expecting this.
“It is such a surprise that our dearest [Y/N] has finally brought someone home!” Your mother announced, sending her daughter what Nanami thought was a rather sheepish smile. “I mean, at some point we thought we would be the family’s spinster, ha!” And then she sent you the most condescending smile, one that made you want to crawl into a hole and cry. Not even after discovering you have a boyfriend (well, a fake one, but she doesn’t need to know), your mother could be supportive.
“Well, I’ve always been full of surprises,” You retaliate bluntly with a tight-lipped line. Nanami slowly brought his hand under the table to squeeze yours, and when you faced him, you were met with a look that meant more than a thousand words. Stay strong. I’m with you, he seemed to silently say.
“Kento – mind if I call you Kento?” Your father interrupted loudly, not sparing you a glance. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a salaryman. I work in the same office as [Y/N].” Was Nanami’s response. You cringed at your father’s attempt to talk more familiarly with Nanami. It felt odd, it felt rigid, and you just knew what question would follow.
“Ah, I see. Well, I sure do hope you’re at least winning more than our [Y/N] here!” The older man blurted, shaking his head in disappointment. “We told her to focus on her studies, make sure she has a nice paying job by the time she finds a husband, but she instead decided to pursue those… hobbies of her, and ended up with a mediocre office job.” Then, as if his rude observation meant nothing, he added, “No offense. I’m sure you’re a hard-working young man, you should aim higher and consider a career in a more lucrative field. Have you tried investing, or finances? If you want to provide a better future for my daughter, you should be prepared.”
Great, now not only was he making rude comments towards you, but he was also making rude comments towards your “boyfriend”. When would this end?
“Dad.” You cut in, scowling at him. How dare he ask such questions?
“What?” He asked, shrugging. As if these types of discussions were as casual as small talk or mentions of weathers. “I need to make sure that this man will provide for you. After all, you refused to go and do something useful with your life – “
“I think what [Y/N] has done of her life is for her, and only her to decide.” Nanami chimed in. “And as her parents, you should be nothing but supportive. It’s not up to you to decide what’s useful or not.” Your cheeks warmed at that. He sounded so clear and straightforward. He managed to do, within minutes, what you had been too afraid to do your whole life.
Your father seemed to dismiss what Nanami had said, waving his hand about and muttering some incomprehensible gibberish.
While your mother fetched the main plate, the room was filled with light chatter. Nanami leaned towards you, lips softly brushing the shell of your ear. It made your heart leap to have him so close.
“You’re right. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it through the whole dinner without throwing a plate at any of their faces.” He mumbled, hand still squeezing yours tightly. This small comment earned a chuckle from you, and Nanami smiled at the response. To anyone else watching, you two looked like a lovesick couple engaging in some light banter and gossip.
“Ah! Here it is!” Your mother gleamed, bringing in pots and pans full of curry rice, udon noodles, miso soup, and some other side dishes you couldn’t see. For all you disliked your family, you couldn’t lie – family gatherings had the best food. You had once tried to learn how to cook from your mother, but after two failed commands (in her opinion) and a whole lot of yelling, you gave up.
“You should try the curry,” you told Nanami, holding your plate securely to pour some of the food on it. “She might be a witch sometimes, but her curry is to die for.” This last part was only but a whisper, and it got Nanami to smile crookedly.
God, you loved to see him smile.
At the office he always looked so serious, so tense. Nanami hated working overtime, and no matter how nice the company you kept each other ways, you could still see the exhaustion taking over him most days, rendering him cold and distant.
Here, though?
He seemed relaxed to a fault. As relaxed as he could be in a situation like this.
“Honey!” There was your mother again. Great, you were starting to miss her unnecessary statements! “Are you seriously going to eat all of that?” She inquired, looking particularly scandalised and attempting to reach your plate.
“Yes, I am. Why? Is there a problem?” You tried to sound brave, but Nanami was quick to notice the shake in your voice and the way your hand trembled in his.
“Oh, well, honey, I just think you should be careful! Don’t wanna put on any weight, do you? I’m sure Kento here wouldn’t want you to gain some extra pounds.”
Ah, this woman clearly made a mistake.
Nanami cleared his throat and made a poor attempt at trying to conceal the anger in his voice.
“I assure you ma’am, that is the least of my concerns.” He asserted and removed your plate from the woman’s hands. “Your daughter looks amazing, and if she’s happy with herself, so am I. In fact, I think she looks particularly breathtaking this evening, don’t you? You must be so proud.”
He’d pushed your parents into a corner, and all they could do was stammer and babble and look around for any help from their relatives – help that did not come.
“I’m quite the lucky man.” Nanami gave your parents the same kind of pretentious, fake smile they gave to him, and dug into his food.
And what else could you do but smile? Mouthing a quick “thank you”, you decided to get to eating as well. Seeing your parents so flustered had given you a kind of confidence you hadn’t felt in years, not in front of them, and it felt good.
For a few godly minutes, everything seemed to go well.
You were enjoying your food, and Nanami was exchanging pleasantries with some of your cousins. It seemed almost normal, the way it was going. Your cousin Ichigo and his wife, who were both ten years older than you were particularly interested in discussing the best kinds of liquors with your friend. Hiroshi tried to rope him into a talk of cars, and Makoto expressed his hatred towards overtime.
It felt too good to be true.
Probably because it was.
After dinner, you were the first to get on your feet to help clear the table. The quicker you did it, the quicker you could get the hell out of that place.
You were loading the dishwasher, distracted by the background noise of the chatter and the news that played in the television, when your cousin Emiko approached. Emiko was her parents’ pride and joy. Unnaturally beautiful, she had no real talent other than looking pretty and finding a rich man. It didn’t matter – the family loved her for it, and you’d spent your whole entire life being compared to her.
“So! ‘Cus, do tell us, how much did you pay for him?” She asked coyly. There was something poisonous laced in her words. You supposed it was jealousy – despite being seated near her husband, Emiko had spent the entire evening studying Nanami, running her eyes through his broad shoulders and sharp cheekbones, no doubt drooling.
You sighed. There was never much you could do about Emiko. You either ignored her words or played into her traps, and both options tested your patience gravely.
“I did not pay him, Emiko. Nanami and I have been dating for a while now.” You replied casually. Somehow, you could still feel tingles where his hand had previously been. On your hand, on your waist. The memory of his lips against your ear elicited a full-body shiver from you. “And I’ll remind you that he’s just next door, so please be considerate.”
“Come on, no one else’s in here, you don’t have to pretend.” Emiko peeked at you. When she saw no visible reaction, she sighed, waving her hand around dismissively and rolling her eyes at you before turning to face the kitchen door. “Come on, lighten up. It was a joke. But you have to understand – you were never something to look at, were you?” She snickered, taking a big gulp of her wine right after. “How’d you manage to snatch up a guy like this?”
You were done.
This comment had been the final straw.
You knew Emiko to be mean, but this? Assuming you had to pay for a handsome man’s company, simply because she didn’t deem you as attractive? As interesting?
Were you simply not worthy of love?
You felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, but before you could try to come up with a reply, a familiar voice interrupted you.
“Actually, it was I who managed to snatch her up.” Nanami was standing by the doorframe, casting you the warmest, most lovely, most caring gaze ever. You felt warm to be looked like that, like you were the most precious thing in the world to this man. “I got lucky. When we first started dating, I wondered how the hell such an interesting, beautiful woman would ever look at me.” A small chuckle. “I still do – I don’t feel like I’m worthy of her.”
Emiko was speechless. She just stared from you to Nanami, from Nanami to you, her words somehow losing their power after this confession.
You looked at Nanami and quickly wiped away the tear that threatened to spill. Seeing this, he walked over to you, pulling you closer by the waist.
“I think you’re wrong, Emiko.” He continued, not even sparing her a second glance as his hand lifted your chin up with the gentleness of someone who holds the entire world in their hands. “Not something to look at? I mean… Look at her. How could I ever be deserving of such a beautiful woman?”
You felt heat radiate from his body, and as if it was second nature, you cupped his jaw with your hands. He was so close, so impossibly close. You could make out every single one of his eyelashes, the bags under his eyes caused by sleepless nights working, the eyebrows that were usually furrowed and deep in thought – Nanami Kento was beautiful.
And according to him, so were you.
He searched in your eyes for any kind of signal. A yes, a no. A simply gesture that could change the rest of your night (and perhaps the course of your, well, relationship forever).
It was almost imperceptible when you nodded, meeting his gaze through lidded eyes.
So he dipped his head, and softly caught his lips with yours.
You’d fantasized about this once or twice. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the real deal. Nanami was a good kisser. His lips moved effortlessly around yours, molding like he had been kissing you for years. The hand at your waist brought you close, close, impossibly close, so close that you couldn’t think of getting away – good. Nanami didn’t want you to ever leave his side.
And you kissed him back just as tenderly, afraid to ruin the moment. Your tongue swiped shyly across his bottom lip, and he gave you one of his signature smiles – reserved, contained, but 100% him.
Behind him, he could hear Emiko scoff and leave the kitchen. Perfect. He didn’t want a crowd anyways.
After pulling away for air, Nanami studied your face attentively.
Your eyes were wide and bright, sparkling with what seemed like magic. He wanted to kiss every inch of your face – your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He wanted to kiss your soft, plush lips again and again and again. Thank God you’d invited him to be your fake boyfriend. Nanami had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask you out, and while this wasn’t the most conventional date, he was known for being efficient and straightforward.
“Let’s get out of here. You deserve to be kissed somewhere else.” He mumbled in that raspy voice of his that did things to you. You nodded and held his hand as he led you through the corridors.
The goodbyes were ushered, and the promises to call and come back soon were very blatantly fake. Your parents, however charmed by this man at first glance, refused to hide their scowls at this point. They did not like being contradicted. Neither did your cousins – or rather, the ones that had giggled and whispered and made smaller comments at the beginning like “Wow [Y/N], such a miracle, you finally found someone!” and “Oh, Nanami-san, when you get tired of her, please do call us – we’ll be waiting! What? It was a joke, don’t be such a downer!”.
The ride home had been quiet. Peaceful.
You refused to let Nanami go, and he refused to let you go, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain when he placed his big palm on top of your thigh as he drove.
Then, as you arrived to your place, he walked you to the door, silently holding onto your hand.
You gazed up at him, and then at the floor.
“So…” Why were words so hard?
You wanted to ask him a million questions. Why had he kissed you? Had he liked it? Did it mean something to him? Was it just a distraction? Is your friendship ruined?
“I hope you know it is not true.”
“Huh?” You met his eyes.
“Everything they said.” Nanami refused to let go of your hand, drawing slow circles with his thumb. “It’s not true. You’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever known. You’re beautiful, and smart, and talented, and kind, and so many other things that I want to say but can’t find the words to.” He’d never been good with his words. But you thought he was doing a pretty good job.
Then, he shook his head, running a hand through his now slightly ruffled hair. “I wish I was better at this. My point is – you’re remarkable, [Y/N]. The way you care for others, the way you’re so unapologetically you, the way you’re not afraid to speak your mind and be heard. Those are all admirable qualities. If your family can’t see that, then it’s their fault.”
You could just stare at him in awe.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take you out. On a date, an actual date. Not just some simple last-minute overtime office dinner. A proper date, just you and me.”
A date? With him?
“You can say no if you want to. I won’t force you. But I’d like to take you out for dinner. Or lunch. Or anything you want, basically, I –“ He sighed once again. “Point is. I really like you, [Y/N]. I know, I know, we don’t know each other that well, and I don’t expect you to return my feelings, but –“
“I really like you too.” You blurted out without thinking. So, all of this time, your feelings hadn’t been one sided? He too felt the same as you? All those nights at the office, all those small interactions, making the workplace an easier place to deal with, all of the jokes and giggles and antics – he cherished them too? “And I… I’d love to go out for dinner. Or lunch. Or whatever you want, really! The point is,” You gather yourself, smiling like a fool. “I’d really love to go on a date with you.”
In that exact same moment, while you and Nanami smiled at each other like two shy teenagers, the only witness to your awkward confessions being the moon and the lights from the city above you, you didn’t think of yourself as unworthy, as dumb, and useless and a no-good child. The hurtful comments made by your family were far, far away, like they’d happened a lifetime ago.
You saw yourself the way he did. Remarkable. Kind, talented, beautiful, and oh so worthy of love.
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A/N: That's it! I hope you liked it! I love this man so much hehe he deserves all the fics! Thank you for the lovely request, I'm so glad I got to finally start writing for Nanami instead of simply reading!
Have an amazing day everyone! <3
518 notes · View notes
maknaeswrld · 3 months
Text
a life eluded | l.mh, h.js
wc: 6.5k
genre: soulmate au; reincarnation au; fluff; angst; poly!minsung x reader
cw: pov hopping; anxiety/panic attack mentions; food/eating mentions; Bee (I still feel like they need a warning); all soulmates are gn (they/them pronouns) for sake of future storytelling; past life memories in italics; please please let me know if I missed anything🫶
if you’re new here, start from the beginning: a life forgotten
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Soulmates can be a painful thing. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop yourself from running away. 
Riley had left you with a hug, two phone numbers hastily written on a paper towel, and a promise to meet up soon. You and Lia counted off ten minutes before leaving as well, hopefully giving you enough time for Riley and any possible companions to be long gone.
You thought the idea of reaching out to them would scare you, but the more you looked at the numbers, the more you wanted to talk to them. You assumed Bee was the one that had yelled at your soulmates, drawing their attention off you long enough to make a break for it. 
They’ve been looking for you for a long time.
Riley’s words found themselves on repeat in your head, not letting up even slightly. How could they have been looking for you if they’d never met you? They couldn’t possibly have known you. But they still noticed your absence. Enough that it weighed on them, caused them to seek you out even without knowing who you were.
They’ve been searching for their ‘missing piece’ about as long as I’ve known them.
Their missing piece. Not a burden, not a hitch in all of their plans, not some unforeseen unfortunate circumstance. You were included in their future long before you even knew of your past, they’d been attempting to seek you out for far longer than you’ve been avoiding ever finding them. In their minds you were the final piece of an extensive puzzle. Their final piece.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you were typing both numbers into your phone and creating a group chat. 
Y/n: you didn’t tell me which number belonged to who so i just made a gc, I hope that’s alright.
Unknown Number: Who are you and how’d you get these numbers?
Unknown Number: shut up Bee, I already warned you about this. sorry Y/n, I was rushing a bit, this is Riley and the other number is Bee’s :)
Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): WAIT!!! YOU’RE MINSUNGS THIRD?! THE ONE THAT RAN AWAY EARLIER?!
Riley (Bang Chan’s soulmate): Bee istg
Y/n: uhhhh yeah, I suppose that’s me
Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): I would’ve run away too, those idiots are so loud
Riley (Bang Chan’s soulmate): you are actually not allowed to talk, I think the only person in existence that can rival Bin’s loud ass is you. the both of you together are my eternal migraine
Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): SHUT UP WE AREN’T THAT BAD
You couldn’t help the laugh that wells up in you at their banter, after that you fall into an easy rhythm talking with them. They understand you in a way you’re not sure any of your friends ever have. 
It didn’t take even two days messaging back and forth for the three of you to make plans to meet for coffee, Bee going on about how unfair it is that you met Riley already. You thought you’d be nervous, you spent the whole morning getting ready waiting for the nerves to hit. These were the soulmates of not just two international idols, but close friends to your soulmates who were in the same group. Everything about the situation should be sending you into a spiral of anxious thoughts, but instead you felt more at ease than you do going to dinner with Lia. 
“You look hot, where are you off to?” Your neighbor asked as you were locking the door.
“Coffee with some friends.” It felt too natural, the way friends rolled off your tongue. You hadn’t even met Bee yet.
“Be safe babes.” Your neighbor smiled, entering her own apartment. You weren’t close with your neighbor, but you always looked out for one another. Living alone wasn’t always safe, so having someone who would notice your absence was always a comfort thing for you.
The coffee shop decided on was a twenty minute walk from your apartment, you spent the whole time thinking over everything. When you had found out about your soulmates, one of your biggest concerns was the fact that there were others like you, soulmates of idols who knew who they were supposed to be with and couldn’t get to them. Or worse, that there were friends of yours, people who were the soulmates of the people you knew you had some cosmic bond with, people important to you that you’d never get the chance to remember. 
Due to Stray Kids popularity, you got to have your memories with your soulmates members, the memories of how close you were to each of them as well in every lifetime, but knowing they had soulmates, that you likely were very close to their soulmates, that you couldn’t remember them, devastated you.
And now you were meeting two of them for coffee. The memories with Riley had already started to slowly trickle in after the short time you spent with them in the bathroom, you knew more would start engraving within your deepest memories after more time spent together. The two of you were close in every lifetime, it gave you hope that everything would work out in this one as well.
“Y/n!! Run!!’” Riley laughed, hand holding tightly on yours as the two of you sprinted away from the lady chasing the two of you with a broom. 
“Get out of here, street rats!” The lady called after you. 
After several twists and turns to make certain you were securely away from any possible danger, you both sat against a wall to catch your breath. You started giggling, causing Riley to look at you as if you’d grown two heads. 
“What are you-?” Riley trailed off as you produced two small pieces of bread you’d managed to snake while Riley distracted the mean lady. Riley’s eyes lit up before laughter filled the space coming from the both of you.
You each enjoyed your pieces of bread, savoring the taste and the feeling of something on your stomachs, just sitting in comfortable silence with one another. 
You’d shared your whole lives running the streets, keeping each other alive and moving, and you always thought it’d just be the two of you, until Riley found Chan and your lives got thrown upside down.
You stared at the sign of the tiny rustic looking cafe. It was the type of place you’d go to every day if you knew it existed. Now that you did, you couldn’t imagine not regularly spending time there. You knew deep down, if all went well today, you’d be spending a lot of time there with Bee and Riley.
A bell jingled above the door as you pushed it open.The whole place radiated comfort and you felt at ease instantly.
“Welcome in, I’ll be right with you!” A cheery voice called from what you assumed to be the kitchen.
“Y/n! We’re over here.” You found a table in a small nook surrounded by books where Riley and Bee were sitting, drinks already ordered. “We didn’t know what you might like and Sage already knows our usuals, but we were waiting for you to get food.”
Before you could take one of the open seats between the two, a short person with a bright smile, freckles, and long hair brushed to a shine seemed to dance toward you, hands wiping at their apron, they reached one out for you to shake. 
“I’m Sage, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Their grip was firm despite the dainty tinkle of their voice.
“Y/n.” You smiled in return.
“What can I get ya, Y/n?” 
You order your drink, you, Riley, and Bee also putting in your orders for food, and just as fast as Sage had appeared, they’d disappeared back into the kitchen. Taking your seat at the little table, you took a deep breath before looking up, only to find Bee and Riley already staring at you.
“So like, when are you gonna finally meet your boys? OW! Fuck Riles, what was that for?!”
Riley pinned Bee with a pointed glare. 
“Are you avoiding your soulmates?” Sage asks, gently placing your cup in front of you and taking the last seat at the table.
You turn beat red at the accusation. “Not exactly.” You mumble.
“Totally is. They found each other young so they’ve had five years together already and now this one seems to think they’re going to ruin everything, even though Min and Ji already know about them and have been looking for them.” Bee stated, sipping out of their own cup. “OW! Fuck, why are you guys always attacking me!?” This time, Bee glared at Sage instead of Riley.
“Because you make yourself an easy target. Listen, Y/n, if there’s one thing I’ve learned while owning this shop and spending way too much time people watching, it’s that no matter how hard you try to fight it, you’re meant to be with who you’re meant to be with. That's just the reality. If you were going to ruin their lives just by them finding you, you wouldn’t be their soulmate. Simple as that. Min and Ji have been in here a few times with Chris and Bin, they’re good ones, I guarantee you could never regret letting them in.”
“Your parents made a good choice with your name.” 
Sage grinned, gently lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s a fun name to live up to.”
With that, Sage disappeared into the kitchen once again. 
“They’re right though. I don’t think you could ever regret letting them in.” Riley smiled, reaching over to squeeze your hand.
“Sage doesn’t know the boys are idols, do they?”
The way they called all of them by names Riley or Bee would refer to them as instead of any full name or stage name struck you as odd. Either they didn’t know or they were the bands inner circle, that thought making a strange sense of insecurity rise up your throat.
“Nah, Sage doesn’t really do technology and only really listens to the radio their grandfather had is his restaurant. They know next to nothing about the idol world, which is why the boys like coming here so much, it’s peaceful and off the beaten path.”
You nodded, sipping your drink. You could understand that, especially with the boys being idols with soulmates, a quiet coffee shop with next to no attention on it is the perfect place to be able to have uninterrupted time together.
Shifting in your seat to look around the small shop more, you found yourself wondering what your soulmates thought of the cozy shop and its somewhat eccentric owner. What were their regular orders here? Did they like having a regular order or did they change it up? You found yourself wanting to know how they decorate their rooms, if they like to read, what they like to watch. You wanted to get to know your soulmates personally in this lifetime, not just what you know of them from every life passed.
A few weeks ago, a few days even perhaps, that would’ve terrified you. You would have found yourself thinking of Jisung and Minho, and these thoughts plenty, but you always shut it down knowing it was fruitless, you wouldn’t get the answers anyways. But now that was different, now they knew you, now they wanted to get to know you just like you wanted to get to know them. Now everything was different, and the two men you love of your memories have a chance to become the men of your present if you so chose. 
While losing yourself in the thoughts, zoning out the conversation happening between the shop owner and your fellow Stray Kids soulmates, your eyes landed on a gorgeous trellis made of wood and covered entirely of vines and flora, reminding you painfully of the arch and altar at your wedding to the two men in one of the very first lives you had a memory of.
“Do not fret, Y/n. No one is going to show up to ruin your marriage tonight, and even if one were to try I am almost positive Changbin and Bee would stop them before you even knew about it.” Sage smiled at you over your shoulder in the mirror, helping you lace up the back of your outfit. 
“My father disowned me because of this wedding, it isn’t entirely implausible for him to not try and put a stop to it.” You sighed, worrying your fingers.
Sage pulled the straps a notch tighter than they needed to go, causing you to yelp and stare at your friend incredulously. “None of that.” Was all that was muttered before you were released and spun around, Sage’s hands finding their way to your shoulders. “Now, you are going to get out there, you are going to marry both of your incredible soulmates, and you are going to let your very oafishly protective elders stop anyone who threatens a bond as beautiful as the one you share with Minho and Jisung. Do you understand me?”
All you could do was nod, tears already welling in your eyes, as you pulled Sage into a tight hug. “Thank you, my friend.” 
“Oh goodness, have the waterworks started already?” Bee teased, leaning casually on the doorframe. “You look great, Y/n. And if you’re ready, so is literally everyone else.”
Squeezing Sage one last time, you smoothed out the non-existent ruffles in your clothes before exiting the building, finding Chan holding a bouquet and waiting patiently leaning against the outside of the tiny cottage. When he looked at you, the emotions welling in his eyes were all you’d ever wanted to see from your father, and while a part of you wished he would have accepted your soulmates, you're more than grateful for Chan stepping up to such an important role.
“Are you ready?”
“More ready than I have ever been for anything.”
And with that, you were led out into the field, to the altar put together with wildflowers and plants, to your soulmates eagerly awaiting you to join them, to the life you’d never regret despite what your father anticipated. 
Because standing there under the floral arch, Jisung’s hand in one of yours and Minho’s in the other, you knew you could never regret them in anything for even a moment.
Minho watched as his lover paced incessantly back and forth in the cutie dorms living room. 
Bee and Riley had informed them that they were in touch with Y/n, their third soulmate, and that they were going out with you for lunch today. Riley refused to tell either boy where they were going, knowing Jisung would show up without hesitation and that Minho would just to avoid leaving Jisung alone in any way.
“What if they decide they don’t want us?” Jisung finally spoke the words that had been weighing on both boys since you disappeared a few nights prior, and even more so since finding out you’d been in touch with Changbin’s and Chan’s soulmates.
If you were in touch with the other soulmates, you could have found Minho and Jisung easily at any point. If you were in touch, one of them found you that night, which means you were likely mere feet from Jisung, as he had been with Riley. There were questions flying through Minho’s head at the same rate as he could see them in Jisungs eyes, but he had to remain calm for his lover, if they were to both spiral, no one would be able to calm Jisung.
“They’re not going to decide that, Sungie. They just found out they have two soulmates, you can’t tell me it didn’t take us a while to process that one too. They’ll find their way to us when they’re ready.” Minho pulled the smaller boy into his arms, pressing gentle kisses to the crown of his head.
“What if they’re never ready, Min?” The youngers voice was soft and shaky, Minho felt his heart break at the sound.
“We can’t think like that, Ji. Y/n is having lunch with two of our family at this very moment, if they were never going to be ready they wouldn’t have agreed to that.” Minho tried to ignore the shiver that ran up his spine at saying your name aloud for the first time in this lifetime, he tried to ignore the peace brought to him just by your name alone. His hold on Jisung tightening, his head burying in the youngers neck. “We’re going to be okay.” He promised, ignoring the persistent what ifs echoing in the back of his head.
What if Jisung was right? What if you were never ready? What if you never chose them because of who they are in this life? As much as Minho wanted to negate those thoughts, memories of lives that turned out exactly like that made him question if this would be one of them. 
His hand tightened around their wrist, trying to pull them back to him. “Why do you keep running away?!”
“Because I have to!” You cried, finally turning to Minho, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I have to.” Your voice breaking on every word.
“You don’t have to. You can stay with me, we can figure it out.”
“Figure what out? Minho, soulmates are not the end all be all. As much as I would love to just run to you, run away from everything but you, I have responsibilities. I can’t just do what I want, not in this lifetime. We’ve found each other, awesome, great, we’re still in two completely different worlds. You’d be better off trying to find the one missing from our memories, you’d have a chance to have a life with them, to be happy with them. Do that Minho. Find our third soulmate, forget about me, and be happy. Because I can never be, that’s just not how this life played out for me.”
“You’re telling me that despite everything, you’re not choosing me?”
“God why do you have such selective hearing?! I don’t get a choice Minho. I never did! I was born into the fucking mafia, people don’t get to just walk away from that simply because they found their soulmate. 
“Soulmates are a weakness just waiting to be exploited, you’ll live your whole life constantly looking over your shoulder, constantly in danger, because of me. Is that really what you want for yourself? For whoever we’re missing? Is that the life you’d choose for someone else? Because I wouldn’t choose this life for anyone and I am begging you to leave Minho. Get out while no one knows, get out while there’s no chance for them to know.”
“But I’ll know.” He hated how broken his voice sounded even to his own ears. “And you’ll know.”
Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he would listen to you, that he’d walk away and never look back. But all you found was a horrifying sense of finality.
Minho wanted to take it away, let you be free of this world you were forced into. He wanted to take your hand in his and never let go, no matter the danger that came with it. 
He watched as your face morphed from the helpless near tears girl into a cold and emotionless woman, and it terrified him that you had been forced to learn to shed all resemblance of emotion within a blink. 
“I will not ever choose you over my family in this lifetime, Lee Minho. Your life isn’t of importance to me and if you’re so keen to get yourself murdered trying to talk me into leaving with you, then so be it. I won’t come to your rescue.” Saying the words felt like driving a knife right into your own heart and twisting, the look on his face as his grip loosened on your wrist only adding to the immense guilt. 
Ripping your arm away from his grasp, you turned on your heel, head held high, tears threatening your lashes, and left him standing there.
Jisung felt like he couldn’t breathe. All he could do was pace around like a lunatic, and every now and again stop to stare at his hands. The hands that held you, the hands that let you go.
Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the way your eyes lit up, the way your smile outshines every star and sunrise he’d ever witnessed. He could hear the perfect harmony of you and Minho singing together, the way you didn’t miss a single syllable in any of his rap parts.
Jisung thought finding you would bring him peace, completeness, the sense of warmth he already knew with Minho, and for those few minutes he had you, you did. 
Now, Jisung figured just knowing you were nearby, knowing you were close enough that maybe he would run into you again would ease the pain in his chest at the memories flashing through his mind, but when Riley informed him that they were on their way to get lunch with Bee, and you, and refusing to tell him where they were going, he felt his heart shatter all over again. His breathing growing uneven at the idea of you being close enough to enjoy lunch with two of his closest friends, and yet nowhere near him. 
So Jisung paced. He walked back and forth and back again until he was dizzy, trying to rid his body of a pent up energy he had no idea what to do with. If he stopped, he assumed he’d collapse into a full blown panic attack, if that were to happen Minho would have to calm him down, and if Minho has to focus on keeping Jisung level headed, he won’t be able to grieve your absence too. 
Jisung knew he was spiraling, knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself out of it this time, but he had to pretend he was okay, he had to let Minho spiral if he needed to, which means he can’t. 
He tried to distract himself. He thought of Minho, of the way he curls into him in his sleep. How Minho nudges his hand, silently begging him to keep scratching his scalp when Jisung gets distracted and stops for any longer than five seconds. The memories of how the late afternoon light filters across Minho’s features, making him look like one of those beautiful paintings Hyunjin talks their ears off about. 
But within these thoughts of his incredible soulmate, flitters in you. The way you had a habit of playing with Jisungs hands, he wondered if you’d still do that in this lifetime. He fell into thinking of the way you would stick your tongue out and furrow your brows when you focused too hard on anything, from washing dishes to sewing up a stab wound. He wondered why he had memories of you sewing up stab wounds, and which lives those were from, what you were like in those lifetimes outside the flits of memories he was gifted from the short amount of time he got to be by your side in this one.  
No matter how hard he tried, everything kept coming back to you. Trying to distract himself by thinking of his other soulmate would lead to memories of him coming home to find both of you curled up together, fragments of time stilled in his mind of the two of you, smiling at each other, at him. He knew he would lose his mind if he were to be forced to remember you in every single way and never get to experience any of it outside of those few minutes he had on the street.
“You shouldn’t have come here.”
Your voice was like a melody to his ears, despite the harsh words echoing from it. 
“Maybe you shouldn’t be here.” He countered.
Despite the racing of his heart, the familiarity of you, he had a job. One that required getting through you at any cost. 
“Whatever it is you were sent here for, think very hard, is it worth the cost of your life?”
Jisung didn’t really put a cost on his life. He was raised and trained for one thing only, to carry out orders by any means necessary. And, as if you could sense that in him, you shifted your relaxed stance just slightly, preparing for an attack, but softened your features. 
“There is more to life than what you know, little one.”
At the nickname, he lunged, but it was as if you knew exactly what to expect, perrying and gently placing your hand on his arm, sending the both of you headlong into forgotten memories and lives. 
Coming to, Jisungs guard flew up. He didn’t move, didn’t attempt to attack you, but he shut down every possible emotion you could try to gather from him.
“I can show you a better world. One where you’d be in control of your own life, where you’d have an answer to what is and isn’t worth the cost of it.” 
Your words were gentle, everything about you seemed to be gentle. You softened your stance, returning to the relaxed position, no longer planning to attack him or counter any attacks from him.
“If you give me a chance, I could give you the world.”
“I think I want to meet them.”
Riley shot up from their position sprawled across your couch, Bee’s mouth dropping open in shock. 
“Are you serious?” Riley asked, searching your face for any sense of unease or dishonesty.
You’d been spending endless hours with the two, they’d quickly become your closest friends, aside from Lia. You’d also come to spend a lot of time at Sage’s cafe, quickly learning they are very much a piece of your many lives as well. You were still unsure of how exactly Sage fit into the grand puzzle of lifetimes spent with the same friend group, but you knew they did. Your suspicions only confirmed with Riley and Bee’s agreeance of having Sage within their past lives memories as well.
“Y/n/n, I need you to be so for fucking real right now, do you actually want to meet them?”
You’d seen Bee get serious about stuff before, they weren’t all jokes all the time, but the way they were staring at you at that moment, you knew you had to give the complete honest truth. Bee was protective, and while that insane protective streak has since expanded to you as well, you knew without a shadow of a doubt they’d evescrate you before you had a chance to even think about hurting Minho or Jisung.
“I’m terrified of it, that hasn’t changed. But maybe you’re right, maybe it will work out.” You smile at your friends. “I think I’m ready to risk finding out.”
It didn’t take even twenty whole minutes to get a meeting set up, Riley and Bee dragging you to your room to get you dressed and ready. 
“Is it really a good idea to do this now? I mean, it’s really fast, don’t they want time to like, I don’t know, prepare or something?” You’d been rambling the whole time Bee sat on your lap to hold you in place while fixing your hair. 
“No. Because ‘giving them time’ only gives you time to back out and the last thing we need right now is Ji going into another spiral because he thinks you don’t want them.” You could practically hear the roll of Bee’s eyes as they finally got off you, surveying their handiwork. 
Huffing, you accept your fate as Riley forces an outfit into your arms and shoves you into your bathroom, pulling the door shut.
After getting changed and taking in your appearance, you had to admit, Bee and Riley were good. You’d looked hot, almost to the point of it feeling like it was too much. Taking a deep breath and hyping yourself up in the mirror, you open the door to find Bee and Riley lounging in the hallway, both looking up upon hearing the door open, Riley grinning and Bee letting out a piercing whistle as they take you in, high fiving.
“You’re gonna knock 'em dead, babe.” Bee winked.
You blushed, but couldn’t help the smile stretching across your lips.
“Alright then, let’s do this.”
Not every life went smoothly, not every meeting was practically gold and rainbows. But this one was. Childhood friends and also soulmates is nearly unheard of, most people couldn’t fathom growing up with the memories of every life before the current. But you had met Minho and Jisung at the ripe age of five, Jisung was the baker's son, your mom was looking for work, and you and Jisung were forced to spend hours upon hours every day together.
At first neither of you really understood the full depth of your shared connection, but when you both met Minho, and shared all the same memories with him as well, your young minds didn’t have it in them to care. 
Growing up, the three of you would learn the full extent of what happened, but you never had the disconnect from the memories, having your past lives almost completely integrated with your current. 
“I wish we could find each other young in every lifetime. It made everything so much easier.” Jisung muttered into your hair. You hummed in contented agreement, fingers massaging Minho’s scalp.
“Unfortunately, that’s not gonna be the case Sungie. Some lives will be easier, some will be harder, there may even be some we never meet at all. But at least in this one, we’ll get to love each other for far longer than we went without.” Despite his words, Minho’s voice was a purr and you knew without a doubt that all three of you, whilst scared of what future lives may entail, were perfectly at peace in that one. 
Riley and Bee had never spent so much time away from the boys. 
From the very moment Changbin found Bee, they were a permanent fixture within the group. Bee helped 3Racha write and produce, they were in the studio almost as much as the group, and if they weren’t there, they weren’t far.
Riley, from the moment of finally accepting Chan at least, was never far either. They would always be around, making sure all of the boys were eating, weren’t overworking themselves, taking in enough fluids. 
To put it lightly, the gap of their absences was almost painfully noticeable in the weeks they seemed to all but vanish. Ever since their lunch with Y/n, it’s been as if the two were ghosts in the skz household. 
Jisung knew they were still around, the lack of moping from either of his fellow producers was proof enough, but he hadn’t seen a glimpse of them for days, maybe even weeks. 
He felt as if his world was fracturing. Minho was working tirelessly on new choreography, Bee wasn’t around to help him with songs, Riley wasn’t around to make sure he was drinking water, all of his members were enjoying their break before the next comeback, and he was exhausted. Jisung didn’t know how to get out of his head, and he wasn’t sure who to ask for help from. 
He knew if he kept the pace he was at, he’d inevitably spiral, and that wouldn’t be any good for anyone. Jisung had decided to hide away in his room and sleep, it was the best answer he could come up with, but just as sleep was threatening to finally overtake him, his door burst open, a downright giddy Changbin standing in the threshold.
“I’m about to take a nap, tell me about it later.” Jisung groaned, turning his back to his friend before his friend could say anything.
Changbin, not having any of it, stomped over and ripped the blankets away from the smaller boy, lifting him out of bed, carrying Jisung to the bathroom, despite his protests, and threw him in the shower.
Before Jisung could complain, yell, or even get a thought in, Changbin turned the water on, drenching him in seconds. 
“Y/n wants to meet, get cleaned up and ready to go in ten.” The older boy said before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and leaving an absolutely dumbfounded Jisung to slowly register the words, excitement growing with his understanding. 
````
Weeks. Minho had been trying to get the choreography for the next comebacks title track down for weeks. Everything he came up with didn’t feel right, and when it did he didn’t think it looked right. 
Hyunjin and Yongbok had offered to help, they’d even stayed with him, learning new dances, so Minho could see how it looked with multiple people, for a fresh perspective. But nothing was right. No matter how much Yongbok would swear he thought it flowed well, no matter how easy Hyunjin picked it up, nothing was right. 
Minho knew, deep down, it wasn’t the dances that were off, it wasn’t his choreography at all. He knew it was nothing to do with anything related to music that was wrong, but the only thing he could translate the misconstrued emotions to was dance. 
He created new dances every day to give his body and mind something to do, something to take away the wandering thoughts and memories. He’d rather tire himself to exhaustion than remember how it felt to have you by his side. 
Minho had come to the conclusion that you were not going to choose them, and he couldn’t blame you for it at all. His hopes were up after he’d seen his only hyung work things out with his soulmate, but not everyone could find it in themselves to be with an idol. Being an idol was hard enough, dating one was a whole other demon of its own. 
Despite knowing he has Jisung, despite being overwhelmingly worried about his lover, Minho simply needed to mourn the lover they never had a chance with. He needed his time to accept the fates cruelty upon their lives this time around, and then he’d help Jisung accept it as well. 
So he kept dancing. For weeks.
Minho had always found solitude in an empty dance studio. The way the mirrors would be completely empty save for his figure, the silence filling a typically boisterous room, there was just something peaceful about a place meant to be filled being empty.
He was stretching, preparing for hours of working out kinks in his newest routine completely unbothered. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. They were on break, all of the boys were off doing who knows what, and they were supposed to be relaxing leading up to their busy season. Yet Minho was in the empty dance studio, all by himself. 
He was lost in thoughts, already hacking away at the parts he wanted to rework, mentally trying to decipher how to fix them, when the door to the studio was nudged open. His eyes shifted to the door in the mirror, finding his only hyung standing in the doorway, a small smile gracing his features. 
“You might want to put your plans for the day on hold.” Chan said without even greeting him. 
“Why’s that?” Minho asked, being unable to stop the quirk of his brow. 
“Because we have lunch plans. Are you sweaty?” 
Minho shook his head, “Just got here, I was stretching.”
“Great, put on street shoes and let’s get out of here, we’ve gotta meet Bin and Ji at the dorms.” Chan smiled, moving to grab Minho’s bag for him. 
“What’s the rush?” Jisung hadn’t mentioned any lunch plans with the other producers, but to be fair he and Jisung had been somewhat distant from one another lately.
“It’s a soulmate lunch. Me and Riles, Bin and Beebee, you and your soulmates.”
Minho nodded his agreement, very used to soulmate lunches, working on lacing his street shoes when he froze in realization. 
Him and his soulmates.
````
To say you were nervous would be a gross understatement. You were downright jittery.
Bee and Riley were positioned on either side of you, both steadfast pillars of comfort bringing an almost overwhelming sense of security. You would be okay, because how could you not be with them by your side?
You’d agreed to meet at Sage's cafe for lunch, it was mutual ground and low foot traffic. Perfect for essentially a first meeting with your two idol soulmates and, from your understanding, Bee and Riley’s idol soulmates as well. 
You were ready to bolt. Ready to full on leg it home and lock your door, never to come out again. Despite the peace of knowing three of your closest friends would be there, meeting them was still an absolutely terrifying concept.
The what ifs a plague playing on repeat. What if they don’t like you? What if you ruin everything for them? What if their fans find out? What if, what if, what if. 
But with every bad what if, there was also a good one. What if you fit in seamlessly? What if they don’t care about their fans finding out? What if they are as scared and excited to finally meet you as you are to meet them? What if, what if, what if.
You knew you could bolt. You knew that Bee and Riley talked big, but if push came to shove and you needed an out, they’d have your back and get you out. You knew you could turn on your heel and walk the opposite way and they’d text their soulmates an update, and that yours would more than likely be devastated.
It was the fact that you could that kept you from doing so. The idea of Jisung and Minho waiting for you, the mental image of them deflating after hearing you’d change your mind, the thought of them being upset due to your actions, pushed you forward, kept you walking, and you knew no matter what you walked in on, you wouldn’t be able to back out now. You wouldn’t be the one to break the loves of your every lifetime. 
Seeing the familiar shop, your heart was in your throat. There would be no turning back, no changing your mind. In choosing to meet them, you chose to give them the ball, everything would be up to them, and the closer you got to the cozy shop, the more you realized you were truly okay with that.
You were never actually nervous about meeting your soulmates, you were giddy about it. 
As you pushed the door open, letting the familiar sound of its little bell notify Sage of your arrival, your eyes found your soulmates in record time, both sat at the table under the trellis covered in flora and vines. Your breath caught at the smiles gracing both of their faces, and you knew.
Even though soulmates can be a painful thing, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to run away from yours again. 
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a/n: ahhhhh it’s almost overrrr😭🥺🥺 this was gonna be a lot angstier and then it just, wasn’t. and idk what that’s all about but I like how it turned out lol. I dragged my feet on writing this part for actual weeks and then wrote like, 5k of it in two days, so I hope it was good haha! thank you so so much for reading, please let me know your thoughts!!🫶🫶🫶
taglist: @starlostastronaut @mariteez @tired-of-life-86 @skizmee @elisiexoxo @cutiespaghetti @httpswilloww @sundownimup-1 @lolareadsimagines @rockstrhanji @quokkampi @kayleefriedchicken @vivirantshere @ciellebys
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drpoisonoaky · 6 months
Text
So here’s the thing, everyone in the Gaang assumed that Azula was the older sibling.
And they love her eyeliner.
— — — Sokka
Sokka: WAIT WHAT
Azula: Ugh, why are you yelling at me?
Sokka: YOU ARE THE YOUNG SIBLING
Azula: Yes? Why you ask?
Zuko: He was complaining about Katara. And then he said “Ugh but you wouldn’t get it cause Azula is the oldest”.
Azula: And you get it?
Zuko: Not really.
Sokka: IT’S IMPOSSIBLE.
Azula: It’s cause I’m better at everything.
Zuko: It’s the makeup and how insufferable you are.
Sokka: IT’S EVERYTHING.
Sokka: How she looks, talks, thinks…you have to be messing with me.
Azula: I honestly don’t know if I should feel flattered or insulted.
Zuko: She’s the same age as Katara.
Sokka: NO WAY.
— — — Aang
Aang: So tell me how was Zuko when he was a baby? I’m curious.
Azula: I don’t now. I’m guess he cried a lot.
Aang: Oh you don’t remember?
Azula: I wasn’t alive avatar.
Aang: Hold on, are you the younger sibling?
Azula: I am.
Aang: But you look older, and know more about history and stuff. Plus all of that trauma and emoti-
Azula, slightly annoyed: Yes Aang I get it.
Aang: It doesn’t make sense.
Azula: It’s simple: makeup and discipline.
Aang:
Azula: What?
Aang: I have some meetings this week could you help me to look older so they will pay me more attention?
Azula:
Aang: Please. For the sake of the world?
Azula: Sure I’ll show you.
— — — Toph
Toph, seeing how Katara and Sokka are arguing: Men sometimes I’m glad I’m an only child.
Azula: I almost was once. Zuko wasn’t happy about it.
Azula: But I must say, having an older brother who looks after you feels nice. But if you tell anyone I said this I’ll commit arson.
Toph: WHAT?!
Azula: I mean Zuzu and I fought a lot.
Toph: Not that. No way he’s the big bro.
Azula:
Azula: I’m actually curious about why you didn’t know it cause it’s impossible that it could be for the makeup.
Toph: You were a fucking pro master firebender back then and Zuko wasn’t.
Azula: Did you know that my flames are blue?
Toph: No way. Why nobody tells me this things. Anything else cool?
Azula: I can make lighting balls in both of my hands and I can make a perfect eyeliner in 30 seconds.
Toph: Can you do it now?
Azula: Which one?
Toph: Both but bring someone else cause when I ask if it looks good on me I need to know the truth and I still can’t fucking tell if you’re lying or not.
Azula: Makes sense. Although I would never lie to you about that.
— — — Suki
Suki: I need you to teach them firebender’s forms even though they’re non-benders.
Azula: Easy. I used to do it with Ty lee.
Suki: But you have to treat them as your younger sisters. Like how you would treat Zuko if you like him.
Azula: What?
Suki: Kindness?
Azula: No. Do you think I am the older sibling?
Suki: You aren’t?
Azula: No.
Suki: Wait what?!
Azula: I’m the same age as Ty lee. I went to the royal fire academy with her.
Suki: Whao.
Suki: You did and plan all of that shit when you were 14?!
Azula: I don’t know what that tone means.
Suki: Did you have that huge breakdown at 14?
Azula: Now you are simply being rude.
Suki: I don’t believe you. TY LEE COME HERE.
Ty lee: What’s sup?
Suki: Is she the same age as you?
Ty lee, raising an eyebrow: Yes?
Ty lee, realizing: Oh you didn’t know she’s younger than Zuko. It’s the makeup ‘Zula. You look beautiful, but it makes you look older.
Suki: It can’t be.
Azula: Can’t you stop being rude? I look great.
Suki: Not that, asshole. You being younger than Zuko. It doesn’t makes sense…
Azula:
Suki:
Ty lee:
Suki:
Ty lee: I think you broke her? What were you doing before?
Azula: She was explaining to me who I was supposed to teach and how I have to treat them.
Suki: But how she fights…
Ty lee: Oh right, c’mon they’re waiting. They actually pretty nice. You have to be patient ‘Zula.
Azula: Ugh.
Suki: And she played with us…
Ty lee puppy eye’s version: For me please?
Azula: I hate you.
Suki: She conquered Ba Sing Se…
Ty lee: No you don’t. *kiss Azula’s cheek* Hurry up. Bye Suki!
Suki: She killed the avatar…
Suki: AND SHE WAS 14.
Azula, being dragged by Ty lee: Ty, I think you are right. I broke your boss.
Ty lee: I hope that means a vacation for at least a week.
— — — Katara
Katara: You are my age?!
Azula: Hello Azula. How are you Azula? You look great Azula.
Azula: That’s how you have to start a conversation. But yes I am. Why?
Katara: Everything we did.. We were the same age all the time?
Azula: That’s how time works.
Katara: I THOUGHT I WAS BEATING SOMEONE AT LEAST AS OLD AS MY BROTHER
Azula: Why are you yelling at me? Is it a family thing?
Katara: I thought I was so ahead of my age…
Azula: You are a master waterbender without almost any professional help, you heal people with your bending and help to end a 100 year war. Plus you defeated me once. What the fuck are you talking about?
Katara, blushing: Oh, that…that was actually so nice, thanks. I- I appreciate it.
Azula: Your welcome. Now if you excuse me I have things to do.
Katara: Wait.
Azula: What now?
Katara: Can you…?
Azula: I can do a lot of things.
Katara: Well your eyeliner…can you…?
Azula: *sighs* You’re the third person to ask. So I guess it’s your turn.
— — — Zuko
Azula: If someone else imply I’m the oldest sibling you will have to bring back the straightjacket.
Zuko: In my defense they didn’t ask they just assumed.
Azula: You know how many eyeliners I had to do today besides mine? Three. THREE.
Zuko: I think Sokka was going to ask you too, he was looking for you…
Azula: For Agni’s sake.
Azula: At least I hope you don’t want me to teach you too.
Zuko: Mai taught me a long time ago.
Azula: Thank Agni.
Zuko: But I must say I don’t get them. You clearly are my little sister.
Azula: Because I’m a much better version of you?
Zuko: No.
Zuko: Because you are a lot more insufferable and insane than I am.
Azula: If you don’t start running now I’m going to celebrate becoming an only child. Again.
Zuko: Sure buddy.
Azula: One, two-
Zuko: LALA DON’T YOU DARE. STOP THE SPARKING.
— — — Mai & Ty lee
Azula: FIVE five people’s makeup. And I don’t even like them.
Ty lee: Wait five? Suki too?
Azula: I’m counting mine. Adds more drama.
Mai: Such a drama queen.
Azula: But anyway I don’t deserve this.
Mai, raising an eyebrow: You sure?
Ty lee: Look at it as your little price to pay in your healing path. Plus every time you do an eyeliner your aura gets a little bit pinkier. So stop complaining.
Mai: Although I don’t see the big problem with the fact everyone thinks you’re older than Zuko.
Ty lee: True, why is bothering you so much?
Azula: I refuse to think Zuzu ages better than me.
Mai:
Ty lee:
Azula: Whatever. By the way I’m impressed with the little avatar’s fangirls. You were right Ty.
Ty lee: Of course. When am I not?
Mai: When you started to date her.
Azula, starting to sparkle:
Ty lee: And here we go again.
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