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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 1 year

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𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘 • 𝐉𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐀𝐌

Summary: IM BEGGING jude smut/angst where him and reader are broken up but he finds an old (rough?) sextape and he touches himself to it (we want details tho intense solo sessions are HOT😩) then yeah he regrets leaving her and wants her backkk, and then maybe shes with another guy and he gets all jealous and possessive (sorry to much details) I want toxic jude soooo bad 🤭

GENRE: angst, smut

WARNING: s3x, oral(male receiving), intercourse, cheating, a little bit toxic jude, sex tapes, cameras, curse words, both povs

PAIRING: Jude Bellingham x f reader

AUTHOR NOTE: don’t repost or copy and paste my work. I’ll hunt you down

WORD COUNT: 4k

Request yes or no: yes

Bold Italics is flashbacks and text

Masterlist still coming

♥︎𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲♥︎

Jude’s hand was wrapped around his length. A small grunts left his lips in frustration as he tries his best to get himself off. No matter how hard he was trying, he couldn’t release. This was the second night this week he tried and couldn’t. No matter how hard he was or what he thought about he just couldn’t bring himself to his high.

Jude still his movement and sighed.

“fuck.” He mutters to himself. he reached over, grabbing his phone from his nightstand. The phone brightness caused him to squint his eyes. Jude clicked on his photo gallery, scrolling down to a secret album.

He hates what he was about to do.

For two years you and jude were together. Throughout those two years you both recorded several sex tapes for when Jude went away for games.

Now that you were broken up Jude should have deleted them, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that.

Jude clicked on one of the videos. The sound of your voice filled the room.

His heart went racing. Jude hand went right back to his cock as he stared at the video on his phone.

“you like that?” you asked Jude in a teasing voice.

You were on your knees in front of him with his dick in your mouth. The camera in Jude’s hand captured everything; Your pretty lips wrapped around him, your needy eyes looking up at him, your filthy falling from your lips from your lips.

Jude starts pumping his cock in his hand when he felt the blood rushing to it. a grunt of satisfaction leaving his lips as stroke his hard length faster and faster at the image of you.

Your hand wrapped around Jude’s base tightly, you stroked him up and down, your lips still very much wrapped around his tip.

The camera shook a little and a groan from Jude could be heard behind the camera.

“I don’t want to fuck your pretty little mouth but I’m tempted.” Jude said while putting his hand on the back of your head to guide you a little up and down himself. You moaned releasing him from your mouth with a pop but not your hand. You looked at him with those eyes that made him weak in the knees

“just do it baby, fuck my mouth like you want”

Jude was a fucking mess right now. While he pump himself faster than the speed of light, He so badly wish it was you doing this to him. He wish your lips were wrapped around him like they were in the video. Fuck he missed you so much.

Giving Jude the ok, that was all he needed. He gripped the back of your head, thrusting into your mouth hitting the back of your throat making you gag

The camera was wobbly at the action and not much could be seen. It did however pick up every little moan that escaped your throat.

“Shit baby.” Jude hissed as he hit the back of your warm throat over and over again. “you’re going to make me cum-

Jude clicks off the video before it continues. He needs the one where you were a moaning mess.

He scrolls through the album until he finds the perfect one.

Heat flush’s over Jude when he clicks play and your loud moan fills his ear.

The camera was in your hand facing you while Jude was in between your legs on the other side. Your mouth was wide open as a loud moan tumbled from your lips. Your makeup was messy from the tears that had rolled down your cheeks.

Jude remembered that night. You both had just came back from a date. Jude couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

“Oh my gosh yes! Don’t stop that feels so good.”

You moaned out a fuck while Your head fell back against the pillow What the camera couldn’t see what was how your legs threatened to close around Jude. This was going to be your second orgasm of the night and you were overstimulated as fuck.

“Fuck!” was all Jude groans out. The wet sounds of him stroking his lubed up self fills the room along with his heavy breathing. Precum was leaking from Jude’s tip. He was close just from your sounds of pleasure.

“stop moving baby.” Jude mumbled. You looked down at him watching him devour you like you were the last meal on earth. His warm wet tongue moved between your fold to your clit. He sucked harshly making you squeal.

Jude moaned every now and then from how divine you taste.

“going to make you cum huh?” Jude asked when he pulled away from you slightly. He pushed two digits into your tight cunt making your toes curl.

“yes, you’re going to make me cum. Please don’t stop.”

Jude didn’t.

behind the camera you watched as he spit on your pussy before diving back in to savor you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at how amazing it felt

Jude was so close, so close it almost hurt. The pit in his stomach was tight and his breathing grew faster with every stroke of his hand.

Jude eyes stays glued to the video. You were just as close as Jude was in the video.

You were biting your lips in the video trying to hide your loud moans(Even though that was useless).

“Jude I’m so close.” You Barely choked out. Nothing was said just Jude keeping his pace. He knew you were close.

With a loud moan you came. Stars were seen as your orgasm took over your body

“FUCK JUDE!”

“y/n!” he moans.

Jude Came, His cum spilling all over his abs. His eyes squeezes shut at the intensity of your orgasm. He finally came like he so badly wanted to this past few weeks.

His hands didn’t stop until he has fully come down from his high.

The room filled with silence after Jude pauses the video. Jude tosses the phone beside him on the bed with a sigh.

He got up and walks over to the bathroom for a much needed shower.

The whole time Jude was in the shower he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking breaking up with you. He thought Because he was so young it was best to be single and explore his options. It was a stupid idea.

You were the only girl for him. Nobody cared for him as much as you did, nobody listened to him as much as you did and nobody could satisfy him as much as you could that was for sure.

He needs you back in his life.

Once he was out the shower, Jude got right back into bed. He picks up his phone and goes over to Instagram. He searches up your name and when it pops up he feels a little anxious.

He didn’t dare look you up for those past nine you both been broken up. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, but now here he was.

The first thing Jude saw was a picture of you. You looked just as heavenly as when he last seen you.

He scrolls down a little bit more taking in the pictures but he came across one that made his stomach drops.

There was a picture of you and some guys. You were smiling happily with your arms wrap around the man neck.

Jude frowns while reading the caption.

Y/n: Party with my baby ❤️

No way you moved on that fast Jude thought to himself. How are you happily with someone?

Jude throws his phone onto the bed. He runs his hand over his face and sighs loudly.

Jude decided to sleep on it and figure out what he was going to do to get you back tomorrow.

When he awoke the next morning he felt a drive to get you back.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Seeing how you blocked his number he couldn’t call you. He could message you on Instagram, but you probably wouldn’t reply to him. He has to get you in front of him.

After a while of thinking, he comes up with a plan. He was going to throw a party to get to see you. He knows you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to go to one, I mean you never did when you both were dating, so this was perfect.

A day later Jude has everything set. The party was in full swing, people flooded into the building, but there was no sight of you.

Jude was starting to think this was a bad idea every time he looked to the door and you didn’t Walk in. Maybe you knew he was the one who planned the party so you weren’t coming.

After looking at the door for what seems like the hundredth times Jude decides to stop. He excuses himself for his group of friends before walking to the kitchen. He needs another drink.

After making his way through the sweaty crowd to the kitchen, he went to the fridge. He looks through it completely unaware of the people walking in and out of the kitchen.

When he finally got a drink strong enough, he stood back up and turns to leave but ended up bumps into someone.

“shit.”

He stops whoever it is from falling due to how hard he bumps into them.

“I’m sor- y/n”

Jude’s heart skips in his chest. You showed up.

He wasn’t sure what to do or say now that you were standing in front of him. He should have thought about that.

“jude, hi.” You smile softly at your ex right in front of you. “how have you been?”

Jude sighs. He wants to tell you he misses you, but he couldn’t be desperate.

“I’ve been good. How about you?”

You nod slightly. “I’ve been great” great.. your not as miserable as him. “I got a new job and… I’m with someone.” You hesitate on the last part, debating if you should even tell him.

Before Jude could say anything you continue to speak.

“This is a nice party don’t you think! I just need a drink.” You walk around Jude to the fridge.

Jude turns around watching as you bend down to find something. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your ass. He wish he could bend you over and fuck you like he used to.

You turn around and look at Jude. He looks away from your ass but not in time for you to not see. Jude missed the smirk that forms on your face.

You were about to say something then your name gets called.

“y/n.”

Jude turns around and you look to see your boyfriend standing in the doorway.

“hi baby.”

Jude watches you smile at the guy and walk around him to the brown haired man. He put his arm around your waist trying to show Jude you were all his. It took everything in Jude to not roll his eyes.

“um Jude this is my boyfriend Joey. Joey this is Jude a friend.”

friend... Really?

Jude walks over to you two, shaking the boyfriends hand.

“actually I’m her ex but it’s nice to meet you.”

Jude ignores the way you stare into daggers into him and walks around you both back into the heat of the party.

For the rest of the night Jude stays in his booth downing several drinks. Saying he was in his feelings was an understatement. He was drowning in them.

Every now and then a girl would come up to him trying to flirt with him, but he pushes them away.

Jude woke up the next day with a pounding headache. With a groan He pulls back the blanket. He rubs the sleep from his eyes, walking over to the bathroom to get ready for training.

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten drunk knowing he had training the next day.

Even though Jude feels like shit, he sucks it up and got ready for his day.

The whole day at training Jude couldn’t stop his mind from being consumed by the thought of you. It resulted in him fucking up several times making his teammates and coaches confused by what the fuck was wrong with him.

They asked several times what was wrong, but he gave them the same answer. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Jude was so happy when it was time to go home. He didn’t even stop to sign anything for fans. He was so ready to get home.

What was he going to do was all that Jude was thinking about on the way home. How can he get you back? His little party plan didn’t work so now what?

Maybe he could go to your job and talk to you, But he doesn’t know where you work.

He could ask a friend to set you both up... No you probably had talked so much shit about him after your breakup.

There was only one more idea he could think about and that was DMing you.

He prays to the whatever was out there, that you would reply and not ignore him.

Jude types up a quick message before sending it to you.

Jude:

hey it’s me Jude.

Nerves grew as he waits for you to reply.

(Y/n pov) You on the other end were out with some friends when you got the dm. Your eyebrows knitted as you read the dm.

Excusing yourself you walk to the bathroom to respond to him in peace.

You:

Jude what do you want?

You pace back and forth as you wait for a reply. A minute or two went by before you receive something from him.

Jude:

y/n I need to talk to you

You:

about what?

Jude:

I want you back

You laughed unamused by him. He has to be joking.

You:

I have a boyfriend Jude and you know that

Jude:

I don’t gaf about your boyfriend y/n. Meet me at the Sushi place we went to when we were together. 7pm

With that Jude ends the conversation. After months he wants you back? After he broke up with you? No way he was serious.

Should you even go? Was Jude even worth your time and energy?

After debating over it in your head, you came to the conclusion that you’ll go only to hear him out, nothing more. You were happily in a relationship with someone else so why should you run back to him

You got dressed, putting on something causal(seeing how this wasn’t anything to get dressed up for) and made your way over to the restaurant. The whole way there you were nervous, nervous as to what was about to happen.

When you got to the restaurant you found a booth in the back. You waited a few minutes then Jude showed up. Your stomach twist and turned seeing him walking over to you.

“Hey.” He says, sitting down across from you. “hi.. so..” you sigh. “you want talk.”

Jude nods, “yep. I’ve been thinking about these past few months without you and I got to say they’re horrible without you.”

You hum. “ I guess you had trouble exploring your options? Sucks doesn’t it?”

“look y/n, I know I fucked up and told you I wanted to go out there and date other women, but I realize I don’t. I want you and only you ok?”

“Jude I have a boyfriend. You met him and I’ve told you that earlier.” You said running out of patience with the man in front of you.

“I already told you I don’t give a fuck about your little boyfriend.” Jude exhales loudly, falling back against his seat.

“Jude this conversation is going nowhere.”

“ok, how about this. I spend one last night with you. Your little boyfriend doesn’t have to know, just me and you. That’s it.”

“I’m not going to cheat Jude.” You roll your eyes at him and get up. You’re so ready for this conversation to be over.

Jude called out your name, but you kept walking until you were outside. Eventually he caught up to you and tugged you gently by the wrist.

“y/n” Jude backs you up against the wall. “come on.” He looks down at you with eyes full of lust. You bring your lips in between your teeth as your eyes flicker between Jude’s lips and eyes.

You hate the effect he has on you.

“fuck.. fine.” You whispered into the space between you two. “but just one night ok?”

Jude inches closer to your lips and nods. “ok.”

He’s kissing you in seconds. Your breath hitched as he moves his lips with yours.

You can feel his hands snaking around to your ass where he squeezes and pulls you close to him. Due to him wearing sweats you can feel how hard he was.

“We can’t do anything out here.” You mumbled breathlessly when you pull away.

Jude takes your hand pulling you to the car. He opens the back door for you letting you get in first before he got in.

Once the door shut behind him, you climb on his lap and kiss him. He lips were like a drug, You just couldn’t get enough.

Jude’s tongue slip into your mouth grazing yours. You took the opportunity to reach into his sweats and massage his bulge the you were sure was painful.

When you touch him over his boxers he pulls away from your lips with a hiss.

“you don’t know how bad I missed you baby.”

You looked at him watching as he throws his head back against the seat. You felt a little powerful seeing what you were doing to him.

You climb off his lap and pull his sweats and boxers down. His cock sprung free. The red leaking tip made your sex pulse between your legs. You couldn’t help but squeeze them.

You sat down on the open seat beside him, you lean down bringing Jude to your mouth.

“Fuck.” Jude mutters. His hand went to the back of your head as you took him in your mouth.

You took Jude as far as you could and used your hand for the rest of him. Tears leaked from your eyes as you gagged on him, but you didn’t come up for air until you were breathless.

“shit baby you’re so good.” Jude said as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You went back in, swirling your tongue over the tip of him before taking him in your mouth. You bob your head up and down gagging and moaning each time he hits the back of your throat.

What would you boyfriend think if he knew what you were doing to your ex right now? He would not be pleased that’s for sure.

But right now you could careless about him. All you could think about was Jude.

“o- ok sto- stop!”

You pulled away from Jude. “what?”

“I wanna cum in that pretty pussy.” He says.

You pull your jeans down and toss them on the ground of the car.

You straddle Jude again. You position his tip at your entrance before you pushed down slightly.

You both moan at the feeling of your bodies connecting.

Your hands find Jude’s shoulder for support while he stretched you out.

When you lift your hips your eyes roll into the back of your head. You try to hide your moan but it was quite useless. He just felt so good filling you.

“that’s right. Ride me baby.”

Jude guided you by your hips. You slow movement quickly turns fast.

The windows of the car got foggy. Your moans and Jude’s groans fill the space like a symphony..

“god Jude you feel so good.”

“yeah? You like me in this pussy huh? Your boyfriend can’t satisfy you as much as I can, can he?”

You nod. It was definitely the truth. Your boyfriend was great, but not Jude great. You can no longer count on your fingers how much you faked an orgasm with him.

“Cum on my dick.” Jude lips attached to your neck sucking softly. You knew he was going to leave a hickey, but you couldn’t care in the moment. The feeling was too good.

The pit in your stomach tightens up and your action becomes sloppy.

“Jude, I’m so close.” You whine. He looks at you. “I know baby, I know. Let go.”

A few more slams of your hips and you were cumming. Jude wasn’t far behind you. He buried his face in your neck when he cums.

You were breathless. That was the best sex you’ve had in a while and you hate to admit it.

You climb off Jude lap and sat down beside him. You pulled your clothes back on and tried your best to fix your appearance.

“Ok, you happy now?” you ask Jude.

He nods. “yeah”

“ok well I guess this is goodbye now.”

You open the door getting out. Before shutting the door you looked back at him. “good bye Jude.”

A few weeks has gone by since you had sex with Jude. You were thinking about it often so much it was starting to fuck up your relationship.

Eventually you decide to end your relationship with your boyfriend. The guilt of cheating was eating you alive and you couldn’t continue being with him knowing you were unfaithful.

You were sitting on your Couch scrolling through Instagram.

You hate what you were about to do.

You went to Jude’s dms.

You:

Hey Jude it’s y/n. Can we talk?

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham smut #Jude Bellingham fanfiction #jude bellingham angst

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frenchkisstheabyss · 9 months

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♡ Venus in Cyprus ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!hyunjin x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: smut

♡ Summary: A peek inside your boyfriend's mind and heart when he's making love to you. Told from Hyunjin's point of view.

♡ Word Count: 721

Warnings: unprotected sex & that's all, darlings

A/N: I wrote this to break my writer's block. I've never written anything from a male's POV before, let alone a male idol so let me know what you think ♡

I’ve visited museums that some artists can only dream of stepping foot in. The Musée du Louvre and the Musée d’Orsay in Paris. The Tate Modern in London. The Uffizi Gallery in Florence. I’ve been inches away from Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus” painting, depicting the arrival of the goddess of love herself to the island of Cyprus.

Its beauty is enough to bring some to tears but it’s nothing more than pigmented egg yolk on canvas, dull and unremarkable when compared to you. With you staring up at me, your eyes oceanic trenches of eternal admiration, the rest of the world falls away. I drown in them...in you.

I gently brush my finger along the line where your lips meet. They’re like velvet against my thumb. They part, the air stolen from my own lungs filling yours as I sink into you. Your body welcomes me into your warmth, eagerly swallowing my length inch by inch until you have all of me. My body trembles as my mouth meets yours.

I can feel your smile. A tiny one at first. The corners of your mouth barely lift. You clench around me. Release. Clench. Release. Your smile grows wider the deeper I groan. You know what you do to me. You love it. And so do I. Your hands skim my bare chest, arms coming around to trace my spine with your fingertips.

“Hyunjin” you gasp, the pressure of my throbbing tip hitting that one perfect spot overloading your senses. “Hyunjin.” My name’s sugar cane on your lips. I crave the sound of it. I lift you from the bed just enough to take two handfuls of your lush ass into my hands. I grip you tightly, securing you in place, and thrust into you harder.

“Say it again. My name.” Please don’t make me beg because I will. Anything to hear you say it. “Hyunjin” you’re moaning, hips raising to meet mine. I trail kisses down your neck, inhaling the scent of jasmine and saffron permeating from your soft skin. Your fingers are tangled in my hair now, delicately tugging at my hair, guiding me along your collarbone.

Between your cleavage. To the rise of your succulent breasts where your buds stiffen to meet the textured surface of my tongue. I free a hand up to caress your breast as I lap at your delicious bud, pausing every now and then to watch it glisten with a thick coating of my spit. You twist beneath me, your body too lost in pleasure to know what to do with itself.

I can feel your heart racing, a rhythm I could mimic in my sleep like the notes of my favorite song. You’re soaking wet. I can feel your juices dripping down my shaft. Coating my balls. Making such a mess of your plush thighs. My hands, they have to travel. Explore the gentle curves of your body. I’m a slave to the way your soft body gives to my touch.

Addicted to tracing every stretch mark. Nibbling on the plumpest, sweetest parts of your figure. No paintbrush in the world can mimic the art of a body so tempting I’d give my whole being simply to lay eyes on it. You say my name again. Broken. Laced with need. You whisper to me, my lips at your neck once more, how close you are but I know. By the fluttering of your walls and the arch of your back.

I sneak an arm between us, stroking your firm clit with two of my fingers. Your nails dig into me, tearing skin, leaving behind an abstract message that I am, in fact, yours. Yours when your body tightens and twists, your whimpers flowing through the air. Yours when the ecstasy of your high has you trashing. Screaming. Incoherent. Nectar rushing from your pussy like a waterfall. Majestic and powerful all at once.

Yours when your sweat slicked body relaxes in my arms, those angelic eyes staring up at me with the same admiration as before. “I…” you start but your voice cracks. You clear your throat, shaky hands cradling my face like I’m some precious thing, “I love you.” And I love you. My work of art. My Musee du Louvre. My Musee d’Orsay. My Venus in Cyprus.

I love you too.

#hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x y/n #stray kids smut #stray kids x thick reader #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #plus size smut #chubby smut #thick reader

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johnwickb1tsch · 3 months

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 11 all chapters

-You fly into Rome on a beautiful June day with an ache in your heart you can’t quite shake. You throw yourself into the sights, visiting museums, soaking up the beautiful art and the Mediterranean sunshine. You see things in person that you’d only seen in art history books before, and as an artist you know you are forever changed. You meet plenty of interesting travelers in your hostel, but no one who quite holds your attention, or your imagination, the way the memory of Mr. Wick does.

Italy is beautiful, but the men are exhausting. Not all the men. Just the continual stream of the ones who find you on the street, see a young lady traveling alone and take it as license to bother you. Constantly. More than once, when you turn down their offers of whatever, as politely as you can in your broken Italian, they get nasty.

It’s a relief in a way when you pair up with a kind young man from Argentina to go see the Vatican. No one bothers you, and you have fun, but it’s not exactly what you want.

You actually like being alone, and in others casual company you find that you itch to steal away to a quiet corner to read or sketch or write in your journal. You revel in this special kind of solitude, being a solo traveler in a strange land, not needing to cater to the wants and whims of anyone else for once.

When Javier tries to kiss you on the Ponte Sant’Angelo, you cannot help but feel as though you are being watched. He’s a good-looking young man, funny and sweet and you enjoy his company. At any other time in your life you would have happily lost yourself in a fling. But you know you wish you were looking into a very different pair of dark eyes, and you turn your head at the last minute, receiving soft lips on the cheek.

“Javi…” you sigh with regret, holding distance between you with a hand on his chest.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, clearly crestfallen.

“It’s ok.”

You’re not mad. You’re just…sad—and you’re not sure why you can’t kick this melancholy longing and enjoy yourself in this beautiful place. You feel like you’re walking around with a hole in your heart, and it’s all Mr. Wick’s fault, the big idiot.

After a week you move on to Florence, and the museums there fill your days. You see so many wonderful things, from the statue of David in the Galleria dell’Accademia, the wonderful paintings in the Uffizi gallery, the splendor of the Duemo... You fall in love all over again with Botticelli, Bellini, Lippi and Uccello and Tiziano and so many others.

You also see a sun-bronzed old man masturbating unabashedly on a blanket in the park, but that’s Italy for you, apparently.

You still feel as though you are being watched, but you never find the source of this weird feeling between your shoulder blades. You try to shrug it off, going for long walks along the Arno between snacks and visits to this galleria or that.

Before you leave the city you go to a book binder’s shop Mr. Wick told you about that has been in business for literal centuries. They have such wonderful things, books with leather covers and gilded arabesques, ornate handmade papers and parchment. You pick up a blank journal for Mr. Wick. It’s small, but its all you can afford. It’s beautifully made, and you hope he’ll like it.

Venice is beautiful, but so very infuriating.

You manage in a blunder on the very first day to drop your phone, cracking the screen into a thousand spiderwebs. It renders the maps you downloaded utterly useless, and you try to go the paper route, but you are lost for the umpteenth time in the maze of small side streets and canals when a seemingly helpful middle-aged construction worker takes pity on you and offers to lead you back to a main road.

At least you think that’s what he says, but after five minutes you realize you read the situation so very wrong, when you find yourself in a dead-ended alley and the older man is puckering his lips at you. It would have been comical on screen, perhaps, but in real life you are not amused. He’s big, but not fast. You’re glad for your flat sandals as you duck under his outstretched arms and dash away down the street, thinking you can’t possibly get yourself any more lost than you already are.

You look over your shoulder to check if he’s pursuing you, and run into something immoveable. You hit so hard you bounce, and you might have ended up in the canal, had strong arms not wrapped around you.

Oh no.

Fearing you may have landed yourself out of the frying pan and into the fire, you try to squirm away.

“Y/n?”

Recognizing that voice, you freeze for a moment, before actually bothering to look up at who has you in hand.

It’s none other than Mr. John Wick.

A nearly unbearable flood of surprise and excitement fills you from your hair follicles to the tips of your toes.

“What are you doing here?” you demand, and maybe it sounds more like an accusation than it should.

“Tying up some loose ends,” he answers vaguely. “Is he bothering you?”

You look over your shoulder to see the construction worker has emerged from the alley, and is stumping your way.

“Yes.”

The worker airs some dramatic-sounding complaint with John, waving his hands animatedly. John’s answer is much less musical, but perfectly pronounced, and you’re pretty sure he told the guy to get the fuck out of here.

Grumbling, your suitor goes in the opposite direction, talking to himself as he does and gesturing with his arms to no one but the audience in his own mind.

So melodramatic.

You cannot help but notice Mr. Wick still has his arms around you, glaring at the man until he disappears around a corner. You are still breathing heavily from your little mad dash, steadying yourself with hands on the flat plane of his chest. John finally looks back down to you, his eyes fixating on your lips before valiantly rising back to meet your gaze, his fingertips digging slightly into your sides.

You rack your brains for something to say, when all you really want to do is grab the lapels of his beautiful suit jacket, stand on tiptoe and press your lips to his.

“I…thought you were retired?”

It seems he only reluctantly lets you go after that, the tips of his fingers sliding from your ribcage. Immediately you feel the loss of his strong hands.

“I try to be,” he quips, almost evasively. “Why aren’t you in Rome?” He asks this as if you are the one who is in a place you’re not supposed to be.

“I…saw everything I wanted to see?”

Only then does he finally offer you a smile. It’s almost boyish, and it pulls at your heartstrings with a vengeance. You look him over. It might be the first time you’ve seen him wearing anything but all black, in a light grey summer weight suit with an airy white button down open at the throat.

He looks, if you may be frank, utterly edible.

“It's good to see you,” he says almost shyly, as though he's afraid you might not feel the same.

If only you could tell him that you've thought about him every day since you've been gone.

“I’m very glad to see you,” you dare to admit. “It's a small world, I guess.”

You decide not to think about what a strange coincidence it is, running into this man in a back alley in Venice. At the moment, you simply don’t care. It’s as though for once the Universe was paying attention to your heart’s yearnings and delivered on it in the flesh.

“Yeah. So...where are you headed?”

You sigh, and very sorely wish you could hang your head on the solid plane that is his chest again. Your desire to be held by this man is an ache in your very bones.

“I don't even know. I'm so lost.”

Usually you have a decent sense of direction, but this fucking city has you walking in circles. Usually that's fine too, but you've never felt so hunted in your life.

“Would you... like to come to lunch with me? I'm on my way to meet an old friend. He would love to meet you.”

For a moment you are dumbfounded to receive such an invitation. But then, you look down at yourself in your colorfully cute but obviously cheap sundress, then look at him in his smart suit that probably cost more than your car.

“That's so sweet, John, but I'm sure I'm not dressed to go wherever you're going.”

“What do you mean? You look beautiful.”

You look back up to him, open mouthed. He's never really said anything outright like that to you. It feels ridiculously good to hear it. Warmth floods you from head to toe. You know you are blushing, maybe even glowing, but it’s hard to feel too embarrassed when he looks at you like that.

“Thanks.”

He reaches up very slowly, just barely brushing your chin with his knuckle. “Come with me.” His voice is low, soft even, yet somehow adamant. It induces a flutter in your heart—and an ache in your loins. You like to think you are not easily led, but you wouldn't have dreamed of arguing with him now.

“Alright.”

His pleased smile is a balm to your earlier frustration. For the first time since you got off the train and promptly got lost trying to find your hostel, you feel like you can relax in this maze of a city. You didn’t realize it before, but you haven’t felt safe for weeks.

He offers you his arm.

The gesture is sweet, and gallant, and maybe you lean against him a little more than you need to. His arm is dizzyingly solid beneath your fingers, and you can’t help but feel a little giddy as you stroll together towards your destination.

#heeeeeeeeere we go!#maniacal laughter #john wick #john wick fic #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick x reader #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine

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margotw10bis · 2 months

Text

Crashing On Crush.JJK 7 [m]

crush!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 4.6k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: sexual tension; broken heart; Calvin Klein JK (yeah, it's a warning)

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As much as you hate it, you do find Jungkook handsome and your heart has been pounding as soon as you noticed him. And you hate that you missed him - the last time you saw him was two weeks ago in the club. You are surprised to see him but also to see he has cut his hair. You can't help but missing his puffy shoulder-length hair and you want to slap you in the face for that thought. His black locks are now shorter in a mullet-style hair cut with a bang and are lightly curled. But gosh, he looks good. A little too good for your heart's sake.

You forget to how to breath when Jungkook stops a few meters from you. You feel your cheeks burning as well as your whole body and it's not because of the hot and suffocating July of Seoul because the A/C is on inside the art gallery. It's definitely because of Jeon Jungkook, the devil manifesting in a handsome man figure.

"Hi, uhm, I have an appointment with Aecha" He says after clearing his throat

"Follow me"

Even if you invite him to walk with you, it looks like you want to run away from him. Fortunately, you quickly arrive to Aecha's office. You knock and enter, Jungkook by your side. Your colleague offers him a way better smile than you.

"Jungkook, hi! Nice to meet you in person! We are so happy to work with you" Aecha's voice is warm and magically relaxes Jungkook

"Same here"

He tries to sound cheerful. He is really happy and proud that the gallery has approached him for the project, it will surely help him for his career but he does feel tensed to see you. He can't deny he hesitated to accept the job but then he saw it as an opportunity to set the record straight with you. He has been so grumpy that even Mina has stopped asking for his attention and let him work in his office at home. Jungkook has imagined hundred of scenarios of what happened between you and the guy after you left and every single one of them ended with you in his arms. By anger and frustration, he even broke his Apple Pencil and had to buy a new one.

"I am so sorry but I don't have time to talk details with you personally" Aecha continues, genuinely annoyed "But don't worry, Y/N is very professional and I'm sure you'll get along"

Your eyes widen and you throw distraught gazes at Aecha. 'Please, don't make me do that!' You silently beg her. But she doesn't get it or chooses to ignore it as she hands you the file. You do know the artists and the theme of the exhibition, as well as other details about the events related but you don't want to work with Jungkook. You know he is supposed to provide different visuals and supports, which means that you are going to deal with him for days. You're not sure your heart can handle it and you fear your determination to hate him will fail you - to be true, it has already began when he first appeared in the lobby.

Yet, you have no choice but to take the damn file with shaky hands and ask Jungkook to follow you in the meeting room.

A feeling of pain and jealousy fills you when you realize that his girlfriend has got to see him everyday and you have no doubt that he has looked damn hot every single day of these two weeks. Even now, in front of you, he is ridiculously handsome in his matching Calvin Klein denim jacket and pants, a white t-shirt finishing his perfect look. You can't help but wondering if his underwear is also signed CK, which makes you blush. Jungkook is fucking hot like that - would you dare to say that you are aroused by the absence of his usual all-black style?

You shake your head to erase those filthy thoughts and you sit down. You open and read the file, which gives you a good excuse to not look at Jungkook.

"Did you sleep with him?"

Jungkook's voice is neutral despite his pounding heart. He couldn't help but ask you. Even if it breaks his already broken heart, he has to know. His look-the-other-way part argues that if he knows, it'll get easier to let you go.

You immediately look up and open your mouth but no sound escapes it. Just by seeing you blushing hard, Jungkook knows. His fists clench and he is angry. Not at you, but at himself. You left with another man, you slept with another man because he pushed you away. He tries to convince himself that the pinch in his heart is due to his bruised man pride but deep down he knows that it's his feelings for you that have been rattled.

"It's none of your business" You eventually decide to answer "Let's not get personal and stick to a professional behavior"

Jungkook doesn't say anything but nods, poking on his inner cheek with his tongue.

Weirdly enough, you both concentrate on work and are able to have a peaceful conversation. Some details are discussed and Jungkook notes some ideas that get through his mind while you give him more informations.

"Can I see the art pieces? It'll help to get fully in the right mood" Jungkook asks at some point

"Sure"

You both walk through the art gallery and you can see that Jungkook truly appreciates the architecture of the building. You see his doe eyes sparkle with inspiration and you can practically see all the ideas that are currently filling his brain. Witnessing his passion melts your heart.

You enter the code of the storage room and motion Jungkook to step in. You explain that you haven't receive yet all the pieces but you add that he can look at them of the website of the gallery. His back facing you, a sketchbook and a pen in his hands, he is already quickly sketching a few visuals. You are quite intrigued by how fast his brain works and you move forward gingerly. You stand on your tiptoe to look upon his large shoulder and sneak on his sophisticate drawings.

"Wow" You whisper, almost in his ear, unintentionally

Jungkook was so focus on his work that he didn't notice you, but when you opened your mouth he startles and turns his head to your face suddenly. You are so close that your breathes are mixing. His eyes look right into yours but can't help going down to yours pretty lips. He gulps, a vivid memory of your several passionate kisses coming to his mind. He knows how you taste and he is dying to feel it again on his tongue. He wets his pierced lips with his tongue and the move attracts your glance too. A spontaneous wave of arousal goes straight to your lower belly.

Thankfully - or not -, staying this long on your tiptoe causes a cramp in your left calf. You immediately step back and wince, holding on the painful leg.

"What's going on?" Jungkook asks you, alarmed

"Cramp" You hiss

It doesn't take long to Jungkook to kneel down and massage your lower leg. You blush hard but convince yourself that it's due to the pain and not to Jungkook's warm palms on your skin. But why do you mentally praise you for wearing a yellow wrap dress and not your usual slacks?

"It's okay, you don't have to-" You speak up, weakly trying to push his hands away

"Let me do that for you"

His eye is so intense that you only manage to gulp and nod, letting Jungkook rubbing your calf to relax the muscles. You hiss as his fingers palp your aching leg, instinctively grabbing on his large shoulders to not fall. Feeling your hands on him, even through the thick fabric of his denim jacket and under this circumstances, Jungkook feels good. So fucking good. His whole body, that has been tensed for weeks now, softens under your touch. It's like he was physically missing something that your hands give him back. Someway, it's the first time you wish your cramp was lasting longer.

"It's gone" You say unsurely and, with regret from both sides, Jungkook stands up

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't. Please don't" You close your eyes in pain, not willing to remember once again what he did because you surely didn't forget

You hate him for breaking your heart but you don't hate him. Quite the opposite actually. You still love him, so fucking much. You can't change the past and you surely can't be best friend with him but you can make this professional relationship work. You want it for the gallery but also for Jungkook because you still think he is very talented and deserves the contract. That's why you take a deep breathe and start talking:

"Look, I know things have been... weird between us. Let's just put that aside and concentrate on work. I really want to feel good here so let's not make things more awkward. I think it would be nice if we could be colleagues"

Jungkook looks at you for a moment, surprised. He doesn't really know what to say when there are so many things that he wants to say - if that makes any sense. He runs a hand through his fresh cut hair.

"I'll work hard then, for you"

He doesn't specify if 'you' refers to the gallery and all your colleagues and artists involved or just you. But your heart doesn't care about the difference and skips a beat. You try to put a - weird - smile on your face to look relax.

"Welcome onboard then, Mr. Jeon"

————

Day 2 of working with Jungkook and you have to say that you are surprised how things go smoothly. You and Jungkook really get along - on a professional level - and your two brains seem to share the same ideas and vision of the project.

When he went home, Jungkook went straight to his home office and started sketching some visuals. On the one hand, he wants to work slowly only to get the chance to spend more time with you. But on the other hand, he has so many ideas for the different supports. The project clearly excites him and he hasn't been this motivated for a long time. Moreover, your cute yellow dress of the day seemed to be another reminder that you are like sunshine is his life and that everything looks better when you are around.

This morning, he has joined you in the same meeting room and gave you a cup of latte - he knows it's your favorite beverage - that he has bought on its way to the gallery. The sweet gesture didn't go unnoticed by your weak heart and your cheeks did redden. As soon as you two have sat down, Jungkook put his sketchbook and graphic tablet on the desk and explained the different concepts. You were so impressed by his work and how much he has done in just one evening. You couldn't help but being worried that he had not slept well and the dark circles under his beautiful eyes proved you no wrong.

You don't even notice it was lunch time until you hear a knock on the door. You look up and meet a sweet and cute familiar face.

"I didn't want to bother you but I've been waiting for fifteen minutes so I thought that you might have forgotten me"

Jongseob seems embarrassed and is blushing hardly. Your heart immediately melts and your smile widens. This doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who wonders how many men have stolen your heart. He can't help but feeling jealous. When will his possessiveness stop? Especially when you're not his.

"It's okay. Actually, I lost track of time. Please come in, Seobi"

You get up and give a big hug to Jongseob. The young man is quite impressed by Jungkook. His black outfit has returned and his tattoos are showing up under his oversize t-shirt. He does look intimidating and Jongseob feels a wave of protectiveness towards you, hoping that the stranger didn't give you a hard time.

You have no idea of what is going on in Jongseob's brain and you turn back to Jungkook.

"Let's meet up in two days so you have time to make the changes we've talked about. Then, we will show everything to Aecha" You say with a smile and Jungkook simply nods.

You notice the way he is staring at your young friend and realize that they don't know each other.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce you-" You are cut off by Jongseob

"I'm Kim Jongseob"

You are surprised by his confident and quite cold tone. It's so not like him. You even feel his arm easily wrapping around your shoulders. When did he get this tall? You look at him, asking him with your eyes what the hell he is doing. But Jongseob is completely focus on the black-hair man.

"Jeon Jungkook"

Jongseob's eyes widen and immediately turn to you. Your face expression confirms what he thinks: it's the man who broke your heart. If you didn't say a word on your Graduation Day, you couldn't lie when a few days later Jongseob has asked you about how it went when you confessed your feelings to your crush. Even if you tried really hard to not cry in front of him, you couldn't stop a few tears. Jongseob was so heartbroken for you and has spent the day with you at your place, eating ice-creams and watching Disney movies.

The body of your usual so cute friend tenses immediately and he leaves your shoulders to step in front of you, protectively. His eyes narrow when he gazes at Jungkook.

"I hope he hasn't done anything to you" He says with his jaw clenched, talking to you but looking at Jungkook

A scoff escapes Jungkook's lips. Who the hell is this kid? He doesn't know anything about him and yet, he is judging him. Only if he knew that at his age, Jungkook was... No, it's better if he doesn't know, otherwise you would know too. And he surely doesn't want you to know.

"Jongseob" You say softly, a hand on his shoulder "Jungkook is working with me, everything is fine"

"Can't someone else deal with him? Why it has to be you?" His voice is more gentle now and he is looking at you, finally

"No, and it's okay. I promise"

"What are you going to do about it, uh?"

Your eyes widen in surprise while Jungkook smirks and then pokes his tongue in his inner cheek in a provocative way. He doesn't even know why he opened his mouth in the first place. Maybe he was just tired of everyone treating him like shit or maybe he wanted you to know that your little guy couldn't compete with him. 'Stupid fucking ego' he thinks.

"What did you say?" Jongseob responds aggressively, taking a step further and Jungkook does the same

"I said, what are you fucking going to do about it?" Jungkook articulates each single word, his jaws clenched

You start to panic and take place between the two men.

"Stop it now, the both of you" You try to be firm but your voice is a little shaky

"You were right, he's a fucking asshole" Jongseob goads

"What did you say?" Jungkook barks this time, ready to throw punches in this little fucker's face

"Jongseob!" You shout "Go wait outside, now"

You are so tensed that your whole body is shaking with adrenaline. What are you going to do if they start fighting? But you release the air of your lungs when Jongseob does as you say. You look at Jungkook to try to know what he is thinking but his features are too neutral, except for his gritted teeth.

"Jungkook, I-I never said that" You try after a moment of silence

"It's okay" He sighs, trying to relax the tension in his body "Even if you said it, you had every reason"

You stand in front of him, not knowing what to do. You are unsettled when a little sneer escapes Jungkook's mouth. You look at him, questioning him with your eyes.

"At least you have people to protect you"

"Jungkook-"

"No, it's okay. I see you on Friday with the finished visuals and support designs"

Jungkook grabs his stuff and goes away, leaving you breathless and heart pounding.

————

"Noona, I'm sorry"

Jongseob has spent the whole lunch apologizing but you haven't said a word. You are so disappointed in his behavior but you are also destabilized by the way you feel angry at your friend for attacking Jungkook. You shouldn't feel that way, it's true that Jungkook broke your heart but why do you still want your friends to have a good impression of him? It doesn't make any fucking sense and you sigh in frustration.

"Stop apologizing. What you did was wrong Jongseob"

"I know but he... he was just there and he broke your heart! Are you really okay working with him?!"

You take the time to think. Are you okay with it? Honestly, yes. And more honestly, you are happy to work with him. You wish the reason of that was because Jungkook works well but it's not: the reason is that you want to be with him, in anyway possible.

"Yes, so please stop. Maybe you don't want to hear it or you don't understand but Jungkook is nice"

"How can you say that?!" Jongseob gasps

"He is, really. What he did to me was wrong but beside that, he has been really nice to me"

And it's true. Objectively, the cheating-on-his-girlfriend-with-you part put aside, Jungkook has been nice to you. The two days you have spent working with him showed you a new face of him: the passionate yet so considering of other's opinions side. He has carefully listened to you, has taken the time to explain to you technical things about designs and has worked hand-in-hand with you to provide the perfect visuals. Even beside that, the morning coffee and the way he has hold the chair for you to sit down or the way he has turn off the A/C when he noticed you were cold, proves he is a good person. Maybe a little selfishly too, you want to believe that you have fallen for a good guy and not a shit head so the whole story wasn't you being completely wrong about him.

"Look, I'm a big girl. I know you're worried but everything's fine, Seobi" You smile at Jongseob, trying to calm him down

"Okay..." He sighs "But if he tries anything, please tell me and I swear I'll punch him in the face, just for him to know he can't mess with you"

Your heart softens at his pouty face and you promise. You know Jongseob just wants to protect his Noona but deep down you know Jungkook won't try to hurt you again.

————

You haven't heard of Jungkook until he shows up on Friday for your expected meeting. You have sweaty hands, not knowing how will be things between the two of you. You give him an unsure smile when you welcome him and you feel released that Jungkook is back to his old and nice self. He shows you the final project and everything is perfect. You compliment his work and you may notice a slight blush on his cheeks.

You waste no time and you two head up to Aecha's office so she can approve, what she definitely does. Your colleague is really impressed and praises the both of you. Your chest is full of pride that you managed the situation. You are really excited to be more involved in one of the gallery's projects.

To celebrate your success, you invite Jungkook at a nearby coffee. It doesn't surprise you anymore that Jungkook orders you a latte but it's appealing to your weak and soft heart. Coffees in hands, you sit down at a table.

"I'm so happy that your visuals have been approved! I can't wait to see the posters in real life and on the big screens of the gallery!" You tell him excited, which makes him giggle.

"I'm glad too. Tell me if you need help with the printer guy, I know that sometimes they can be a little hard to handle and delay things until you lose your mind"

"I'll sure do"

You feel so good joking with Jungkook. It feels like before you discovered about Mina, back when everything was so natural and delightful between you two. A small wave of nostalgia washes over your body and a small part of you wishes you didn't know about the girlfriend. However, the bigger part of you feels better to know that he didn't cheat on his girlfriend with you more than that.

"I have to tell you something"

Jungkook's serious tone and face make you stressed. You wonder what other bomb he is going to throw at you and how you'll manage to survive. 'Please, tell me there is no other secret girlfriends!' You pray

"Mina" He starts and your heart sinks by hearing the name, you still feel so guilty towards her even if you didn't know "She is not my girlfriend"

What the hell?!

Your eyes almost roll of your sockets by surprise. You are speechless. Does he lie? But he is looking straight into your eyes and you don't see anything but pain. But if she is not his girlfriend, why did he lie about lying to you? It doesn't make sense!

"She is my best friend, well at least back in Busan"

"But, why?" Is all you manage to say, your brain is completely upside down

"It's just an old habit of us, saying to other people we're dating. When we were younger, we were so close that most people thought that we were actually a couple. At some point, it was kind of a joke to confirm it"

Jungkook's nostalgic smile is not happy but quite sad and your heart squeezes. You wonder what caused him such pain but you don't want to push him.

"Maybe, back then, there were more than friendly feelings between us but it's not the case anymore. I just want you to know that nothing happened between Mina and I"

"Why'd you tell me that?"

Jungkook's eyes grow big in surprise. He doesn't really know why he tells you the truth. Perhaps he just doesn't want you to hurt because of this, because of him.

"I don't know..." He sighs "I just wanted you to know"

You don't know what you feel. On the one hand, you are relived that he didn't cheat on his girlfriend with you, but on the other hand, you are still heartbroken because he has still rejected you - and the reason was not him having a girlfriend but just not wanting to be with you. And that hurts like hell.

Jungkook looks at you with his big doe eyes, biting on his bottom lip, while he waits for you to say something. But honestly, you don't know what to say. So he keeps going:

"I haven't seen her in years but she came up to me. She needed some help. Things are-were complicated. I'm sorry if I hurt you, I really didn't want that"

"I understand" You don't but what else could you say?

"Y/N" He says gently, grabbing your hand at the other side of the table "I am really, really sorry"

The warmth of his hand goes straight to your heart and cheeks. Why does he have to do that? It's so hard not to fall for him when he acts like that! You want to hug him and tell him you forget everything as long as he is with you. But you can't do that, so you smile instead.

"I wish I could go back and do things right with you. Maybe... maybe we could be friends or something?"

Jungkook winces at the way his thoughts have turned into words. It sounds so dumb and it's not really what he wanted to say. He wanted to ask you if you would accept to see him again, like before. Like when you were supposed to have a date at the Lotte aquarium.

"I guess we could be friends" You say in a small voice, almost a whisper

Jungkook's heart jumps in his chest and he knows he'll try everything to make it up to you. But first, he has to deal with Mina.

————

Since you have done a great job with the communication campaign with Jungkook, Aecha sends you over to meet the print firm. You are walking around in Seocho, a district of Seoul, but take the time to follow the Han River boardwalk. The heat and humidity is almost unbearable but the view is so beautiful. The sun is mirroring on the water. You close your eyes, feeling the D Vitamin entering your body. You hum in contentment.

Nevertheless, the universe couldn't let you in peace for five minutes. Your blood runs cold when a familiar but non welcoming face appears right in front of you. Mina. You don't really know how to act in front of her now that you know she isn't really Jungkook's girlfriend.

"Hi" You tell her with an unsure voice

"Hi, Y/N right?"

Mina's smile is bright but not really friendly. Something in her behavior makes you uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I can't stay long, Jungkook is waiting for me at home" She takes a dig at you

Her little scornful tone drives you crazy. Before you can even think properly, you open your mouth:

"Jungkook told me the truth. You are not really together"

For one second, Mina seems unsettled but she hides it quickly. You feel your heart beating faster and your hands freezing, just as if you were ready for a fight. It might not be a physical one but it will surely be punches with words.

"Did he?"

You stay silent, waiting for her to set the mood. You don't have hard feelings for her. You could be friends, if she wants to.

"Look, you seem like a nice girl" Although it doesn't sound like a compliment in her mouth "But I'm not sure you are the good person for Kookie"

"I think he's old enough to decide for himself"

"We might not be an official couple but we do share something special. We've been best friends for years, we have been through so many things, you won't ever be able to understand. I know him but I'm not sure you can say the same"

You are taken aback.

"I-I do know him" You sound less confident than you wanted

"Oh, really? Did he tell you about his past?" Mina smirks and you frown, confirming what she was thinking "I just don't want you to be hurt, Y/N. Jungkook and I are meant to be together. It might take some time but it will happen eventually. If you stay in between, you'll only get your heart broken"

Your watery eyes blur your vision. You don't know how Mina manages to do it but her words are so sharp that you could swear she is telling the truth. Maybe it's a result of her magnetic aura.

"I love him"

It's the final blow for you. An intense squeeze hits your cardiac muscle. You don't even know who you are anymore. You have read too many books, you have seen too many movies not to know. All along, you thought you were the main character of the story. But you're not. You're the second female lead in Jungkook's story: the one who only exists to make him realize that his true love has been in front of him since the beginning. There is no better destiny than two best friends finally aware of their true feelings. Fate, cruel as ever, put you on Jungkook's path for him to acknowledge that Mina is the right one for him.

And that fucking hurts.

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softgreengrass · 1 year

Text

Sun to Me

Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: Wednesday isn't a great girlfriend.

Words: 2.0k

Warnings: none, implied f!reader, reader referred to as girlfriend

Author's Note: angst sorry not sorry. inspired by sun to me by zach bryan,, first fic i've published so any feedback is appreciated!

Pt. 2

When you first met Wednesday, you were absolutely terrified of her. But she had taken an interest in you, from the very beginning, and soon you found yourself laughing at her morbid jokes and thinking about her every night before you fell asleep.

Wednesday would never admit it, but when she couldn’t sleep, her mind would wander to far-off places. She saw your smile, your hand in hers, and she saw a love like her parents had.

Now, half a year later, you feel like you know more about Wednesday than you ever wanted to. You know every last quirk, every microexpression she lets grace her face. You know exactly the way she lights up when she sees you, even if to others it looks like a regular glare. Wednesday lets you sleep in her bed; she lets you braid her hair; she lets you lounge about during her writing time. It’s normal stuff, but it isn’t, because it’s Wednesday. Hell, seeing her smile is rarer than Halley’s Comet, let alone getting into her personal space.

Wednesday doesn’t know why she’s so enthralled by you, but she is. You’re patient with her, even when you probably shouldn’t be, and you jump at the chance to take care of her. It feels good.

“Thank god that’s over,” you say, flopping face-down onto her bed. Thing jumps out from under the covers, scurrying away.

The history exam you’ve just completed was the last one on your schedule — you’re free. For a week of break, anyways. Wednesday had helped you study for it (you flipped through a textbook while she rattled off every piece of evidence she had collected for her newest investigation).

“How did it go?” she asks, standing up from her chair and popping a piece of black licorice into her mouth.

“Bad,” you say, voice muffled. “But it’s over.”

She hums.

“How were yours?” You roll over, watching as she walks over to the bulletin board pinned full of documents and sticky notes.

“Unchallenging.”

That was Wednesday. Always too smart for her own good. “What do you want to do tonight? No homework,” you grin.

“I need to go to Jericho High School,” she says plainly, staring at the board.

Your face falls, even though at this point it shouldn’t. It’s a common occurrence: Wednesday too caught up in her hyperfixation to make time for you or your feelings. You shouldn’t be surprised anymore. You swallow, making sure your voice stays level. “What are you gonna find there?”

She looks over her shoulder, eyes flashing annoyance. “I don’t know. That’s the point of going.”

Right.

The thing is, you can’t blame her. She told you, again and again, that you shouldn’t devote your time or energy to her. For the first few weeks of your relationship, she was a broken record: “this is a bad idea,” “you shouldn’t care about me,” “you’d be better off alone.” You, enamored with her jet-black hair and the dusting of freckles across her nose, had taken it as a challenge.

More and more, you found yourself regretting that.

Then Wednesday says your name, tentatively, and your gaze snaps to her.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out, the words unnatural in her stony voice. “Was that insensitive?”

You shake your head, putting on a smile. You’re still Wednesday Addams’ girlfriend. You get her heart, at the end of the day. “It’s okay.”

“I’m hoping to find something that points me to the culprit.”

You nod, wishing for her to just drop it. You’d rather move on, figure out plans with one of your friends instead.

“Would you like to do something tomorrow?” Her eyes are hesitant, but genuine, and just like that your heart melts again.

“There’s an art gallery opening a couple towns over,” you blurt, too excited to let this opportunity pass. “We could… drive over and see it?”

She’s turned back to the board. “How long would that take?”

You ignore the slight sting in your heart. “I don’t know, it depends on how long we spend there. We could make a whole day out of it.”

“I told Eugene I’d help him prepare the hives for the next harvest,” she says blankly. “That won’t work.”

It kills you that she can’t concentrate on you for more than a few seconds at a time. Especially since you know that if you were to ignore her in the same way, even just for an hour, she would shut down and close herself off. “Can you at least look at me?”

There’s emotion bubbling up inside of you, emotion that you don’t want to express right now, but she’s facing you.

“I’m working on being more delicate, you know that,” Wednesday says, her voice tight. You know her defenses are up.

“It’s not that,” you scoff, blinking back stubborn tears. “You never try. Do you know how many things I’ve compromised on for you?”

Her eyes flick around the room, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“The movies, for one,” you say, shuddering at the thought of the true-crime documentaries you’re plagued to watch nearly every night. “The no-touching. The no-compliments. The not-telling-anyone-about-us?”

“You agreed to all of that.”

“Exactly!” you cry. “That’s my point! What have you agreed to?”

Wednesday hates the feeling creeping up her chest. The burning feeling in her throat, the cold dread in the pit of her stomach. That she’s hurting someone she cares about without even realizing it. Again. She wants desperately to make it right, to understand exactly what you want her to do, but the moment you raise your voice, her reflexes kick in.

“I agreed to being your girlfriend!” she says, louder than she meant to.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. She isn’t even trying to understand. “That was that big of a sacrifice for you, huh?”

Wednesday licks her lips nervously, hating the look in your eyes, hating how hurt you are and how angry she is. Now, the thought of a relationship like her parents’ is distant and sickening. She can’t imagine having the patience to communicate with someone for so many years — all she can think about is how much easier it would be to do it all alone.

But then her eyes find yours, desperate and heartbroken and filled with tears, and she wants to tear her hair out.

“I’m not enough for you, I know that,” you say quietly, and Wednesday’s heart twists in a way it never has before. “But I… I just thought you would try.”

She calls your name, reaches out a hand, but you’ve already left her dorm. You rush down the hallway, hoping she leaves you alone and chases after you all at once. The tears are hot down your cheeks, and the lump in your throat just won’t leave. You had trusted Wednesday with your heart. You had given it to her, even though your mom knew and your best friend knew and you knew that you shouldn’t have.

Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you, your mom would say, whenever you asked her questions about love far too big for a six-year-old. She would tell you that your heart was a treasure, and that someday you’d find someone who bettered you in every single way.

You had known, you had always known that that wasn’t Wednesday. But she kissed you, she opened up to you, she looked at you in ways that said you were the most special person in the world. And for a while, you were. You were the only one who got to know Wednesday Addams. But you had invested too much, and she never changed: the same inexplicable mystery that had drawn you to her was now pulling you apart from the inside out. She wasn’t built for the kind of relationship that you needed, even if she could make your day just by meeting your eyes.

You find your way to your room through tear-blurred vision, thanking the stars above that your roommate had left early to spend break with her parents.

You collapse onto your bed, sobbing. You feel silly, stupid, used, thinking about every sacrifice you’ve made for her and how little she’s done in return. How unfair it is: she’s trying, you know she’s trying, but trying to Wednesday is the bare minimum to you, and you can’t change what you need.

You cry until your head pounds and your throat is raw, and even then you can’t stop picturing her dark eyes and scarce, golden smiles. You hear your mother’s voice in your head. Your heart clenches.

Eventually, you fall into a restless sleep, thoughts racing and palms sweating. You want more than anything to go to Wednesday’s room to rant about all of your emotions, knowing she’s only half-listening, and to persuade her to cuddle with you in bed, to hold her tight.

Nausea comes and goes in waves.

You don’t want to answer the knock at your door, except it comes from low down on the ground, and you’d never turn Thing away.

He’s holding an envelope between his second and third fingers.

An envelope, with your name scrawled across it in messy cursive. Thing drops it and takes a small bow, hurrying down the hall. You pick it up and shut the door with a sniff, wiping your nose. You’ve never been so grateful for deserted hallways.

You rip it open on your bed, entirely unprepared for the rush of emotion that hits you when you smell Wednesday’s typewriter ink.

I can’t say things to your face, but you need to know them, so I’ve decided to write them. If I am a black dahlia, you are a sunflower. You are the sweetest of the sunflowers; you are the sun to me. I loathe myself for every moment I have spent upsetting you. I know that I am selfish, and that you are selfless, and that I hurt you even when I’m not trying to. Sorry isn’t enough of a word.

For my entire life, I believed love was nothing but a weakness to be exploited. I thought people like you, who love and give endlessly into this world, were oblivious to the reality of the world. But then I met you, and you cared for someone who least deserved it. The time of day was more than I deserved, and you gave me so much more than that. You have parted the clouds, you have brought sunlight into my life, you have brought me more joy and peace than I care to admit. And to repay you, I hurt you.

You are the sweetest of the sunflowers, and I will never again let myself forget it. I vow to do my utmost to provide you with everything you desire, if you allow me. I’m sorry, my love.

Wednesday nearly jumps when Thing returns, asking him how you looked and if you took the letter. She waits, bouncing her leg, tapping her fingers, thinking about why time travel hasn’t been invented yet. Her mouth is dry, her heart hammering against her ribs. She’s never been so anxious before.

She barely remembers to smooth out her hair before answering the knock that eventually comes at her door.

“Hi,” you mumble, holding the letter in your hands.

“Hi,” she breathes.

“Do I get another chance?” she asks in a rush. You don’t think you’ve ever heard her this forward.

“I’m out of patience,” you say, and she nods quickly, blinking red-rimmed eyes.

A younger version of you would be reeling at the sight of such blatant emotion on her face.

“Can I hug you?”

Her eyebrows lift, eyes widening ever so slightly.

You can’t stand being mad at her.

Her arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close, her face buried into the crook of your neck. You take a deep breath.

#wednesday addams #wednesday series #jenna ortega #angst #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday show #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday

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stylesispunk · 6 months

Text

"I couldn't want you anymore" part 5

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 28). Remember that "Bee" is reader's nickname, fluff, some feelings are being confessed (again), angst (poor reader) mentions of an accident, and conflicted emotions.

a/n: This one is more than 6k. I don't love this one as the last one, but I wanted to deliver this one to you. Sorry for the drama during this chapter, I was PMSing haha. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, please share your thoughts with me, I love reading your comments and send ne any ask if you want ❤️ Sorry for any grammar mistake.💌 p.s the first line is a reference to all too well 😭

masterlist

After 3 long months in the grave. The flowers died of thirst. The place that once seemed full of life, now it was an empty street of broken pieces left behind by your ghost, and for Joel, passing by your shop every day seemed to be the hardest task of his life.

As time passed by, the cobblestones outside your shop remained empty, echoing the silence of what once was the first page of you and him. Joel couldn’t help but wonder how he had let something as precious as that slipped through his fingers, a regret that would haunt him for a long time to come.

Meanwhile, you found yourself far away from the streets of that life. Still in town, but trying to leave behind any trace of him and the painful memories of the night Joel broke your heart.

Your place now was next to Connell. After your castle crumbled, he was there, and before life separated the both of you, he fit in your life. He built the fire to kept you warm after the storm that left you stranded, and both of you had made the decision to give your love story a second chance. This time, taking tiny steps to build a steady castle. After all, he acted like a prince, taking you out on dates, and expressing his affection through gestures that left you feeling unworthy of his kindness.

You had become someone you weren’t. The one with the knife, a liar.

And these few weeks leading up to your new life in London were fulfilled by different emotions. You were busy taking care of some things, closing down your flower shop, and making arrangements for your upcoming journey. It was a bittersweet time filled with farewells to old friends, packing up your life, and starting to write the pages of your new book.

But you still thought of Joel, the memories of him were hard to erase. He remained a lingering presence in your thoughts. You could still see you both lost in those memories, but it was never real. You shared something that didn’t work beyond words and fake actions for the world to see. And you just hated your persistent temptation to ask what would be different if you had never let those three words escaped from your lips. You may still have moments together, he may still have been part of you, but at what cost?

During the course of these three months, Lily and Tommy got together. The news left you speechless at the beginning. You were happy for them even when it was unexpected. You never saw the signs or you were just mesmerized by the other Miller to even notice Tommy was making his way through your best friend’s heart. Now, they were building their own love story, creating a heartwarming contrast to your journey. Their relationship served as a reminder that love could be found in different places.

But for you, moving on wasn’t easy. The pain of a broken heart, mixed with the sweet memories you were leaving behind alongside the life you once knew, weighed heavily on your mind. And the biggest fear heightening over your shoulders was the intense fear of hurting Connell.

Connell, the one thing you did right in your life. The man you knew you wanted to marry once you met him, who had always treated you right. The thought of causing him to regret you because of pain was almost unbearable.

You knew he deserved nothing but happiness, and you wondered if your relationship with Joel had permanently damaged your capacity to truly commit to and reciprocate his love.

Of course, you loved him, but you just weren’t in love with him.

And you found yourself almost every night deeply sighing in the middle of the night, wondering if Joel was still up thinking about you the same way you still thought about him. And you bet he thought you still hated him, even when you had spent the last three months thinking about the minimal chance of him coming back to you, asking for your forgiveness, and stopping you from going to another country to start a new life.

But after three months, he had gone radio silent, and you were dreaming about him touching your face, asking if you wanted to try it for real this time.

And you despise yourself for it.

You had Connell giving you all his love, and you were becoming a knife ripping his heart.

Connell had been the one in charge of helping you to sell your shop, as you didn’t want to spend the time in that place and accidentally running into Joel.

Saying goodbye to the place you made so many memories was hitting hard on you, and you could see the love and concern in Connell’s eyes as he told he had managed the sale. Nevertheless, he spared you from details of the buyer’s identity and only walked straight to your room without uttering more words. He carried the weight of this decision on your behalf.

the next day, when he was supposed to go to the shop and give the new owner the keys of your now ex-flower shop. An emergency call prevented him from going, so he told you to go instead.

And you couldn’t lie, even when you had decided to distance yourself from your shop and everything associated with your past, the thought of saying a final goodbye in person didn’t seem like a bad idea. You wonder about the new owner's identity, the person who would now hold the keys to a place that had been a special of your life.

As you stood outside the shop, you took a deep breath to steady your trembling hands, so you stepped inside. The familiar scent of what was left of the flowers that once adorned the place, and the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the windows, made your heart break at the thought of leaving.

But in the end, your eyes fell upon the last person you expected to see, Joel. He seemed just as taken aback as you were.

“Bee,” he said, softly, making himself believe you were in front of him.

Your name seemed foreign slipping through his lips, the same ones brushing over your skin not long.

You even feared speaking and risking another goodbye.

For a moment, time stopped, as if the world outside these walls didn’t exist. Your heart pounded in your chest.

Your heart raced as your eyes locked onto his, and a mix of emotions surged within you.

"Joel," you finally managed to say, your voice carrying surprise. His presence stirred memories, both beautiful and painful, and it was hard for you to face them. "What are you doing here?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a sign of understanding. "I… Connell sold your shop to Tommy” he said.

Your heart constricted at the mention of Connell selling the shop to Tommy. You knew there was more behind that statement. You had gotten to know Joel to know he was lying through his teeth right now, but you had rather ignore that feeling settling in your heart.

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

"Tommy bought the shop?" you asked, trying to wrap your head around the situation.

Joel nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "Yes, he did. He thought it would be nice since you love this place so much.”

That stirred a mix of emotions within you, but you pushed them aside for the moment. “And why are you here instead?

“He couldn’t make it and I thought Connell was coming” Joel answered, "But it’s nice to see you.”

The tension in the room was palpable, and the weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air between you and Joel. The past few weeks, becoming in three months , had left their mark, and you weren't sure how to navigate life with those permanent wounds.

Joel's presence, felt so strange to you now. The familiarity of his face, his voice, and the way he looked at you brought back a flood of memories of the stolen kisses you found yourself missing so much.

“When are you leaving?” He asked, knowing that this would be the last time he was going to be able to have you in front of him.

“In a week” you answered shortly.

Joel's heart sank at the confirmation. He had everything in his hands to prevent the end of your story, but he didn’t want to stop you from finding peace and happiness in the arms of a man who truly deserved you in every way. You had chosen to start a new chapter in London with Connell, and he was the character from a chapter you were leaving behind.

He looked at you, searching for something in your eyes, a glimpse of the love you told him you felt for him. But it was hard to read your emotions. You felt a foreigner before his eyes.

"I see," he replied, trying to hide the pain in his voice.

The room felt heavy with unsaid words and unfinished written pages. You both had left things unsaid, Joel especially, and the future was uncertain. You couldn't help but feel the pull of what once was, even as you tried to move forward with your life.

Joel realized he had to make his peace with your decision. He had been given a chance to say those three words, three months ago, and he had to accept that he had ruined his opportunity with you. Your upcoming goodbye was a reminder that time was running out for him to say what needed to be said.

"Bee, I won't hold you back," he said, his voice gentle. "But before you go, there's something I need to tell you."

Your gaze met his, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. There was a vulnerability in him that you had rarely seen. Joel's next words would be crucial and may be a turning point for both of you.

As Joel was on the edge of saying something, the door chimed softly as it opened.

It was Connell. His entrance created an unexpected interruption, and the atmosphere grew tense.

You shared a brief glance with Joel, and the weight of the unspoken words lingered heavily.

Joel addressed Connell first; his voice laced with an attempt to save you from any problem. "We were just saying goodbye.”

Connell acknowledged this with a nod but couldn't shake the feeling that he had walked into something else.

“I thought you were busy,” you said to Connell, walking to his side.

“I finished earlier” he gave you a small smiled as he touched one of your arms “You can wait for me outside” he told you, trying to give you reassurance.

You nodded, glancing one last time at Joel, the tension remained inside the room, and the words Joel had been on the verge of sharing with you were left hanging in the air.

And you finally exited the room, saying your last goodbye to Joel without uttering a word.

Once you left the shop, Connell spoke first, his voice carrying a serious tone "Joel, I know you want her to forgive you, but I want you to know that she's important to me and I love her."

Joel nodded, understanding the weight of Connell's words. "I know, Connell. And you've been good to her. I've seen that."

Connell hesitated, searching Joel's eyes for sincerity. "She deserves to be happy.”

Joel's gaze was unwavering as he replied, "I know she does. And if that means she's happier with you, then I won't stand in the way."

Connell kept silence for a moment. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Joel shook his head.

“Thank you. She would have killed me if she knew I sold the shop to you”, Connell said, with a tint of humor in his tone.

Joel managed a small smile at Connell's comment. It was an attempt to lighten the atmosphere even though the underlying tension remained. "I wouldn't have wanted to give her another reason to be mad at me."

Connell nodded in understanding. "I appreciate that, Joel. I just want her to have a fresh start, free from all this mess”

Joel's gaze turned thoughtful. "I want that too, Connell. She deserves to move on and be happy."

Connell looked at Joel for a moment. “You made her happy too. Don’t blame yourself too hard, Joel”

Joel met Connell's gaze, gratitude and sadness intertwined in his eyes. "Thank you, Connell. It means a lot to hear that from you."

The two men shared a silent moment, the weight of feeling they both share for you intertwined lives somehow.

Joel took a deep breath, finally breaking the silence. "I should get going. You both have a new life to start."

Connell extended his hand, and Joel shook it firmly. "Take care of her, Connell."

Connell nodded; his grip steady. "I will, Joel. And you take care of yourself too."

With that, Joel turned and walked away, leaving behind the memories he shared with you inside this place, the first stolen glances, the fighting, the laughter, and the cups of coffee you left for him every morning. All that being left behind, buried.

As Joel stepped out of the shop, he turned and locked eyes with you for what felt like the last time. The weight on both of your hearts hung in the air. In that fleeting moment, your gazes held longing and hurt. You were the tear hanging inside his heart.

And Joel's eyes searched yours for a final glimpse of love. He had wanted to say so much, but the timing had never been right, and now it was too late, but he hoped that you’d find your way back in the end.

You met his gaze with sadness and understanding. There was something about him that made your heart clench. He had been the man who touched your soul before your skin, and how would it be possible for you to forget about that?

You offered a small nod, and he returned it in kind, sharing that secret language you both learned, as a silent goodbye.

Was that “I love you” the worst thing he had ever heard?

And then, as quickly as it had begun, Joel turned and walked away, disappearing into the distance. The chapter you had shared was closing, and as he faded from view, you knew it was time to look ahead, to embrace the new beginning that awaited next to Connell miles away.

Connell watched that unspoken interaction and sensed the weight on your shoulders. He walked over to you, and gently pressed a kiss on your forehead, as a tender gesture, a silent promise of a future without wounds to take care of. With his kiss, he silently looked for reassurance that you weren’t having second thoughts.

.....

The warmth of the evening had set the perfect backdrop for a dinner in the backyard. You and Connell had prepared a delightful spread of chicken, grilled vegetables, and a bottle of wine that Connell had selected for sharing with your friends. Lily and Tommy sat around the wooden patio table, the soft glow of string lights overhead casting a warm glow.

As Tommy and Connell got engrossed in a conversation about their favorite sports teams, you and Lily found yourselves drawn to the quieter solace of the backyard. There, under the starry sky, you could speak without being overheard.

You looked at them, attentive, with a serious expression, your eyes reflected the soft, flickering light.

Lily glanced at you; concern etched across her face. "A penny for your thoughts, Bee bee?”

You took a deep breath, “I think I’m a little bit nervous about next week.”

Lily's eyes filled with understanding as she listened intently. “Nervous about London? Or leaving Joel behind?”

Your gaze shifted, and you looked at Lily with surprise. It was as if she had read your thoughts, as always. You nodded slowly. "Both, actually.”

Lily leaned in closer, her voice a soft, comforting murmur. "Bee, it's okay to have mixed feelings. Leaving behind a place and someone who meant so much to you is never easy. But it's also the beginning of this new adventure with Connell."

You sighed, feeling grateful for Lily's understanding. She made you feel at ease with your racing thoughts. “I just wish it were simpler, you know? I don't want to hurt anyone. I couldn’t forgive myself if I hurt Connell”

At that moment, your and Connell's gazes met from the distance. He gave you a big smile which you mirrored, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

You felt Lily’s hand on yours as a gesture of reassurance. “You have a big heart, Bee. Connell loves you for who you are. Trust in that."

Lily's words were a soothing balm to your worried mind. Her support and the warm of her friendship alongside the starry evening created a special moment in her last days in this place. You knew that leaving the past behind was never a straightforward journey, but it was reassuring to have a friend who understood your complexities.

As Connell's gaze met yours and you exchanged smiles, once again, you realized that your anxieties didn't mean you loved him any less. The weight of the past could coexist with the past, and maybe you could learn how to fall in love with him again.

Joel managed a fragile smile, and he held your hand as if it were the lifeline he needed at that moment.

Sarah and Tommy lingered in the doorway, watching the two of you with tiny smiles on their faces.

Joel spoke softly, "I'm sorry for worrying you, Bee."

You shook your head, your voice filled with genuine concern. "Don’t say anything” you said as you laid your head on his chest, as if hearing the beating of his heart would reassure you, he was going to be okay.

As you leaned your head against Joel's chest, seeking comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you didn't notice Connell watching the two of you from the hospital lobby. His expression was unreadable. There was concern, understanding, and a tinge of jealousy.

Connell had supported you through everything since you both were eighteen years old, and he loved you deeply. But seeing you in this moment with Joel stirred emotions within him that he couldn't fully process, leaving a siren in his mind.

Sarah and Tommy decided to leave the room, giving the two of you some privacy. Joel's hand gently rested on your back, his fingers tracing comforting patterns down your spine as if his fingers were brushes tracing lines on your back.

Joel spoke again "Bee, I know I've made a mess of things, but I want you to know that you mean a lot to me. More than I can put into words."

You didn't respond with words. Instead, you tightened your grip on him, holding him close, and Connell remained in the background, his thoughts and feelings his own, as you and Joel found peace in each other's presence.

Once you were back home, you were awfully quiet for Connell’s like. He had seen the way your face sparkled when you were with Joel in his room, how you held him tight, and how you seemed terrified at the thought of losing him.

It was the moment in which Connell realized he wasn’t the one anymore, but he didn’t want to admit it. He wanted to hold onto the memories.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked you, trying to make you talk.

Connell's voice pulled you out of the storm inside your mind since your arrival from the hospital. You turned to face him, offering a faint smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"I'm okay, Connell," you replied, though your tone carried a hint of sadness. "Just a lot to process."

He nodded; concern showed across his features. "I understand. It's a lot to take in. But you know I'm here for you, right?"

You appreciated Connell's support more than you could express. He had been a rock in your life. It was just the reappearance of Joel after these three months and the accident had stirred up a multitude of feelings you thought didn’t exist.

"I do,” you said, reaching out to take his hand. "You've been amazing, and I love you for that."

Connell's smile brightened at your words, and he squeezed your hand gently. "I love you too” he declared as he kissed your temple, as a way to find reassurance.

You hugged Connell tightly as if to reassure yourself that you were still grounded in the present, even as the past loomed large in your heart and mind.

But for Connell, the pages were clearly written and he knew your heart didn’t belong to him anymore.

One week later, and the night before your departure for London, everything seemed bittersweet around you. You were finished packing what was the last of your belongings, and the weight of leaving your life behind was the heavier suitcase you were carrying.

During the last week, you didn’t see Joel. All the updates about his recovery were through Lily, and the only thing you knew was that he had been dispatched from the hospital today.

You really wanted things between Connell and you to work out, so you made your promise to not see Joel again in order to do that. That night in the hospital was the goodbye you needed, and that was it. He was okay, so you were okay. You had bled, but your wounds would heal sooner than later.

Nevertheless, Connell had been watching your movements for the last few days, and now, as you were carefully folding your clothes and going through the last-minute preparations. He found the strength to speak up.

"There's something I've been thinking about," Connell began, his eyes reflecting the depths of his feelings.

You paused in your packing, looking into Connell's eyes, eager to hear what he had to say. "What is it?”

Connell took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. " I don't want to be the reason for your regrets."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Connell spoke, tears welled up in your eyes.

“You love him,” he said in a breathy voice.

He wasn’t thinking about himself anymore, or where you would go after this, he was thinking about you.

“Connell, we’re leaving tomorrow. I’m with you and I love you” you whispered, trying to convince him, and mostly yourself at the same time.

Connell nodded, his own eyes brimming with tears. "You love me, I know, but you’re not in love with me.”

You wiped away a tear, your voice trembling. "Connell"

“You’re in love with Joel and he is in love with you”, he declared.

As much as he was devasted by the thought of letting you go, he wanted you to be happy. He would give you everything, even when he would be a little in between for a while.

You shook your head. “He isn’t.”

“Then why did he buy your shop?”

“What?” Your eyes widened. You felt shocked and confused. “Why?”

Connell reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "I think he did it because he thought you would come back and because he is in love with you.”

Connell gazed at you with a mixture of sadness and love. "And I love you enough to let you go” " He said “You need more time to figure things out, and I don’t want you to go with me if you can’t do that.”

His words pierced your heart.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” you said, whispering.

Connell chuckled softly, Connell squeezed your hand gently, and then he cupped your face with his hand to look at you in the eyes. “Nothing you say or you do would make me hate you” You leaned in his touch and hugged him tightly, crying on his shoulder.

“I love you more than I could express.” You mumbled.

Connell held you tightly, his embrace filled with love, even though he knew it was time to let you go. His heart was heavy.

And the next morning, with one last, lingering kiss, you and Connell let each other go. You watched him boarding the plane, and as it took off, your eyes watered, you let your tears fall down your cheeks.

That plane carried Connell away from your life again, and you held onto the final image of Connell, offering a gentle wave and a bittersweet smile, muttering an “I love you” at you before disappearing from your sight.

Once you got in your car, you felt the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket suffocating you. All the love, guilt, sadness, and anger crunched your heart, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

In the spare of seconds, Joel came to your mind and you felt anger surging through your veins like fire. You couldn’t help but blame him for ruining the opportunity you had to move on. You questioned yourself why you still wanted to go back to him and why he was coming back to you in your dreams as if he wanted to taunt you, and your frustration grew.

With a burning feeling settled in your chest, you made your way to Joel's house. You couldn't understand why he had bought your shop, why he had disrupted your life once again, so once you arrived, you stormed out of the car, determined to confront him.

You stood at his doorstep, your knuckles brushing against the wood, your heart pounding in your chest. When the door opened, there he stood, still bandaged from the accident. He looked surprised at seeing you here.

"Joel," you began, your voice laced with anger. "Why?”

His brows furrowed, and he stammered "Bee, I thought you'd be on a plane to London with Connell by now."

You met his surprised gaze with anger. "I was supposed to be, but Connell stopped me from it.”

Joel seemed surprised, but something in his gaze showed relief at knowing you would still be here. He stepped aside, allowing you to enter his house, and you both moved to the living room. The familiar surroundings seemed to echo with memories of your last time together. The three words you confessed to him, the way he broke your heart, and then you walked out of his life.

“Why did you lie to me?” you demanded “Why did you tell Tommy bought my shop, when it was really you?”

You were met with silence.

“Why did you buy it, Joel?” you shouted.

“Because I knew you would come back to me,” he said, as a matter of fact. Simply as if he owned you.

Your anger flared at his audacity. "You can't just manipulate my life like that, Joel! You can't decide things for me without even asking” Your voice suddenly deepened. “And for what do you even want me?” you asked “For playing with my fee-“

Joel's lips crashed onto yours, and for a moment, you were stunned into silence. The kiss was intense and filled with all the longing and regret Joel felt.

As he pulled away, his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that took your breath away. "I bought the shop because I couldn't bear to see you go without a chance for us to make things right."

You were caught between anger and desire, your heart racing from the sudden kiss. "Joel, you can't just kiss me and expect everything to be fixed."

He reached out to cup your face, even with one of his hands broken, his thumb gently tracing your cheek. "I'm not expecting that, Bee. I just needed you to know that I love you”

Torn between your anger and the lingering love you felt, you took a step back, away from his touch.

“What?”

“I love you,” he said, not taking his eyes off you. “I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes and mouth were wide open, but you still managed to shoot him a glare. You could pretend you didn’t hear him and leave. You didn’t trust yourself right now, but his big brown eyes prevented her from walking away.

He told you he was in love with you.

Your voice wavered as you replied, "Joel, you can't just say that now. Not after everything that happened."

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I know I should have said it earlier, and I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused. But it's the truth, Bee. I love you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes me to make things right."

You struggled to maintain your composure, you were shocked,

“Are you going to say something?” he whispered.

"Joel, it's not that simple” you spoke

He nodded, his expression earnest. "I understand that. I know we have a lot to work through, and I'm willing to take the time and the effort.”

Your heart ached at his words, and the internal battle you had been fighting raged on. "Joel, I need time to think and process all of this. I can't make any promises right now."

Joel reached out to gently touch your arm, a silent plea in his eyes. "I'll give you the time you need, Bee. Just promise me you won't leave” he said, cupping your face.

You found yourself relaxing with his presence and touch, by nodding your head as a silence promise.

"Okay,” you whispered.

Your head was a thunderstorm of infinite questions running through your head. You had so many, but you didn’t know where to start.

He smiled at you, and that made you lose your mind and you don’t know what to do, what to express, or how to act.

“I’m glad you’re okay” you whispered.

Joel's smile held a genuine warmth, and his thumb traced soothing patterns on your cheek. "I'm glad I'm okay too, and I'm grateful you're still here."

The two of you stood there in a moment of fragility as your eyes locked onto Joel’s.

You had to go before you lost your mind, and you needed space to clear your head. You took a step back, your gaze not quite meeting his.

"I need to go now, Joel. I need time to think."

Joel's expression showed understanding, and he nodded. "I get it, Bee. Take all the time you need."

You turned and headed for the door; your steps were slow as if a string was pulling into him. The weight of what started as a simple game between you two, the confusion of the present and the uncertainty of the future were heavy on your shoulders. You needed time to heal your scars, to figure out what your heart truly wanted.

Before leaving, you glanced back at Joel, and for a brief moment, your eyes met again, unspoken words flowing in the air. Then, you stepped out, leaving behind the man who had both broken and mended your heart, and who now waited for your decision.

It was his time to wait now.

a/n: Okay, so now he bought the shop because he knew she was going to come back to him somehow and he wanted to have it for her because the flower shop was important to her and after all, he has the keys to her heart (yes, as cheesy as it sounds). Now, he has to fix everything and suffer a little because the reader (bee) has to be loved. btw I'm already thinking about the next fic

tags: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3 @ssacharcoalgrey

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lokischocolatefountain · 5 months

Text

Picture || Mister Miller

Part 2 of Mister Miller. Read Part 1 here.

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: 18+ (masturbation, nudes, looking at someone’s nudes without consent, girthy age gap, boyfriend’s dad!Joel, pervy Joel, potential future infidelity, no outbreak)

Word Count: 960 words

Summary: Joel knows he shouldn’t, especially with the guilt of his shameful secret sitting heavy in his chest. But there are so many pictures of you and he is just a man.

A/N: Day 1 was so much fun! I hope everyone is having a good December. Thank you to everyone who reblogged, commented, and liked. It means a lot 🥹. Now here’s our favorite old man for day 2. Tomorrow will be my OG, the one who got me into this Pedro Pascal mess- Javier Peña... Keep a look out for more in the Masterlist. Aaaand leave your girl a comment please🥺🥺

“You should get a new one,” Matt said, typing something up real fast on his laptop.

Joel snorted and said, “Sure, I’ll sell that little computer of yours and buy myself a nice iPhone with the four cameras and shit.”

“It’s three cameras and a LiDAR scanner, dad,” he snarked, finally unlocking his spare phone and sliding it across the table to Joel.

“What’s that? Like the scanner on printers?” He asked, confused once more by technology. The kind of things that came out these days were too much for him to be able to wrap his mind around. Chat GPT, hyaluronic acid, iPads, this fucking scanner thing.

“It’s this sensor that projects invisible lasers and gets data on how far every single thing is. And that way, it can map an entire room,” he said, using gestures to mimic laser beams shooting into a room.

“Sounds like it’ll be more useful in construction. The fuck you need that for?”

He shrugged and went back to his work, the clacking of keys filling up the room once more. Whatever. He needed a spare phone to replace his shit blackberry Sarah got him eons ago. The thing had been through a lot with him and honestly, he couldn’t be too mad at it for dying on him. In all the years he had it, he had taken a few pictures here and there of his kids. But everything else in his gallery was filled with pictures of worksites. Broken pumps, proof to send clients that they were at the site that day, pictures of sample tiles to show clients… Nothing personal. It was the only thing he did on that phone other than making calls.

As he retired for the day, he thought to learn about his new old phone a little. See if the camera was any better. He propped a pillow up against the headboard and leaned back. When he finally found the camera app, he took a couple pictures of his room. Looking back at them, he was a little glad that his old phone died. The camera on this thing was better. It was newer than his old one, so maybe that was it. He didn’t have complaints about his old one, but damn this was it. It was so fucking good.

He swiped his thumb against the screen, looking at pictures, not stopping when he went back to pictures of his son. Pictures of him partying that he had never shown his old man before. He smiled, going through pictures of a side of his son’s life he never knew. Shit parents never got to see.

His heart leapt out at the next swipe, the screen filled with a picture of a nude woman.

You, he realized as he looked at the face. You had a smile on, the same sweet one you always sent him when you exchanged pleasantries and thanked him for letting you crash at his place for the summer. But the picture of you was anything but sweet.

He swiped to the previous picture, an identical one. Except you were biting your bottom lip and looking at him—at the camera with a sultry gaze. His mouth watered as he focused on your tits. Fuuuck they were good ones, he had to admit. He wasn’t a boob man. Or an ass man, frankly. He was just bad at the whole thing. But yours ignited something in him.

He found an entire album full of nude pictures of you. Pictures you posed for. There was a variety. You nude, you in bikinis, in figure hugging dresses that drove him crazier than the first category. In high heels, sideways pictures of your reflection where you stuck your ass out. One with you sucking on a fucking popsicle. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He’d told himself it was wrong. He’d found his pleasure in others. But fuck he couldn’t get his mind off of you. And now here you were, naked on his phone without your knowledge.

As he wrapped his hand around his hardening cock, he knew that he’d lost the fight. He should not be doing this. But just this once. It was his phone now after all. A justification. Weak, but it was all he had in the moment.

He pumped his cock, eyes trained on the pictures of you. He swiped back and forth between the pictures, desperate to have you in all your forms. In the cocktail dresses and the ratty old t-shirts. Wearing the bright red lipstick and the soft pink one. He imagine you, whimpering quietly the way you did that night when he found you fucking yourself in his living room.

He groaned, his cock twitching at the recollection of his creepy voyeurism. He wondered what you sounded like when you had a man. When you didn’t have to rely on your fingers, but had a good girth cock thrusting in and out. When you had a finger rubbing your clit softly. He imagined his large hand full with your breast, his lips sucking on the other one.

On your knees, right here in his bedroom, his cock in your mouth instead of in his fist. As your licked his balls with his cock deep in your throat in his mind’s eye, he exploded, coating his hand in sticky white ropes of his cum. He groaned and pulled out a few tissues, wiping off the mess you’d created.

His perverted mind imagined you still there, eagerly licking up his release. His mind was no longer pleased with such sinful images of you. The clarity that came after his orgasm tasted bitter on his tongue.

He would have to delete the photos. Tomorrow. He’d do it tomorrow.

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lyomeii · 1 year

Text

me, you and him

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: yandere themes, death, spoilers from the entire manhwa, manipulation, reader is implied to be taller than jiwon, someone drug the reader in the first timeline and much more.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Hello may I request a yandere kang jiwon x reader (romantic) where reader was a childhood friend of jiwon and reader is the one always saved from bullies but she died from a accident( sumin poisoned reader) and when jiwon recairneted she decided to save reader while saving reader she fell in love(read obsessed) with reader! Bonus yandere yoo jihyuk who is obsessed with reader from high school Have a great day!^^

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: first request for marry my husband!!!!! 100% excited when writing it and i did have my fun while finished. hope u guys like it too.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ jiwon remembers how her young days were quite full of problems. mother left her and father to another man, dad work twice as hard and soomin, someone who she thought to be a friend, betrayed her and killed her with her husband.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a life as bad like that was definitely one the main reason why she came back to the past, jiwon has to fixed everything and of course, to save the only person that was truly at her side, you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ someone at school who grow up next to her and soomin, yet you only care about her than everyone else. gifting her little presents almost everyday, giving your jacket during rain and cold weather. those sweet moments passed unnoticed by jiwon, how stupid she was to not choose you? why she ended with min hwan instead?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ those sweet moments she spend with you were unique, she introduced you to her work team and you befriend many of them quickly, even her supervisor, jihyuk seems to like you, he smiled seeing you! he never smiled to anyone. yet there was someone who didn’t like that at all.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ soomin hated the fact she never got your attention, you always prefer jiwon over her! and if she and min hwan wanted to become rich with jiwon’s money, then she have to dispose you faster as possible.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ one day, soomin called you over to the office, saying that jiwon wants to drink the coffee from your coffee shop and as expected, you got almost immediately to the office with a few coffee cups in hand. there, soomin put a drug on your drink while you distribute the others for everyone else.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ there was no effect immediately, she isn’t that dumb to make a mistake like that. you began feeling ill after your parents take a visit to met the coworkers of yours, baek eun-ho. they loved the boy so much and were glad to someone like him help you around, all of them looked so proud of you for having a business that none of them saw your pale face immediately.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ as your body fall over the ground, eun-no called the emergency, but it was too late. you died there and everyone you knew attended the funeral of yours. your parents were devastated about your death, they cried the entire day as jiwon hugged them and tried her best to console them.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ she thought to be a tragic event, but during her final moments of living originally, jiwon heard soomin’s whispering how pleasuring was to poisoning you with that drink. “ poor [name]. always had your side and yet, you fail to see how I ended their life with a drop of poison~”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when she comes back ten years in the past, jiwon has the plan to end her relationship with min hwan, expose soomin and save you. she can’t do the same mistake again, she needs you at her side and was a fool to not see how precious you are to her.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ as her plan goes on, jiwon hits on you. she takes you out to many places, such malls, bakery shores and art galleries. her hazel eyes enjoy watching you smile when you experience something new, those are moments she wants to keep in heart forever.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the office knows how important you are to jiwon, some think that the two of you are dating and she doesn’t correct them, after all, she broken up with her cheating husband and has someone like you at her side, so everyone see the two of you as a perfect couple, well almost everyone.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ jihyuk is the only one who knows the true. he came back in time too and has knowledge that you died years later by poisoning, he attended you funereal and cries over your death.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you don’t remember him, maybe by the fact he was older and in another class, yet you were know by the entire school. everyone knew you as sunshine back then, someone who was willing to help anytime, a smile on your face and by the many times you share your delicious food with everyone who asked.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the day you gave him a piece of cake was the day his heart beat faster. jihyuk wanted to talk with after it, but seeing you between jiwon and soomin made him being more careful. he knew that both women had feelings for you, however your attention was solely focus on the first one.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when you died, jihyuk hold back his tears during the funeral and kept himself in the cold manner everyone always saw him. he couldn’t believe, how someone like you could die in a cruel way? he hadn’t no proof, but felt that soomin and min hwan had something do with your death.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when he came back in time, jihyuk saw another chance to make you his and not let you die either. he become quite closer to you, visiting your coffee shop to talk about everything that came in his mind and surprisingly, you remembered him from high school.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “ oh wait! i remember you. you were the boy who loved eating my homemade cakes and sweeties!”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ he wanted to disappear that moment, but when you gift him a piece of cake with a smile on the face, jihyuk eat it and his cheek went red. he didn’t manage to hide it, become a little joke of your.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ did he actually mind it? no. but seeing how much your attitude become when joking about the little blush of his cheeks makes his day, not to mention the moments he manages to hold your hand for mere seconds. jihyuk can’t wait to feel your touch again.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ yet he is no fool to know that jiwon is after you too. her eyes become lively whatever you are next to her, he heard the many rumors that you began dating her after the broke up from her former fiancé. when asked why you don’t correct anyone about the rumor, you just brush off, saying that everyone always speaks about it, but know that jiwon is only a friend of yours.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ that’s mean he still has a chance to make him yours. jihyuk isn’t letting her having you, he knows how much important you are to jiwon, however he can’t lose you again. someone or something gave him another chance to fix it and this time, he won’t let you go no matter how, especially with jiwon, he won’t let her have you.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere female #yandere manhwa #manhwa x reader #kang jiwon x reader #yandere kang jiwon #kang jiwon #kang ji won #marry my husband #marry my husband x reader #yandere marry my husband #yoo jihyuk x reader #yandere yoo jihyuk #yoo jihyuk

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knightyoomyoui · 4 months

Text

TWICE x M Reader - "Cry For Me": PART 3

One more one-shot before I spend the rest of the days remaining before 2023 ends! This took 8 months after I last published the previous chapter, and I apologize for the delay caused by my lack of motivation to write and bunch of important tasks to do both in my private space and my campus. I recommend that yall read the first 2 parts before proceeding to this one so it can help yall remember what happened in this ongoing multi-part story. Enjoy reading and have a happy Christmas season everyone!

Here's my Ko-fi account where you can drop your donations or ask for a commission. You can check it out on my Tumblr profile too! Buy knightyoomyoui a Coffee. ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui - Ko-fi ❤️ Where creators get support from fans through donations, memberships, shop sales and more! The original 'Buy Me a Coffee' Page. Previously on TWICE x M Reader - [Cry For Me] : PART 2

Nayeon opens her bag and takes out her camera. She turns it on and scrolls down on the gallery and paused at the exceptional picture that when she shows it toher, it won't need any further explanations to spill in addition. "I must say, he did kept you out from it. Although, having an eyes is useless when your mind is blind... and that what he is." Nayeon then gave the camera to Tzuyu and watched her look at it horribly. "I know it's not the perfect thing you want to see, but I have to remind to you again Tzuyu. You agreed to help me, I'm just doing to favor in return. This is one of my ways. I'm going to open your eyes and see the reality. Especially... when the truth is right there to set you free." In the middle of the night, sounds of helpless, broken and grieving screams and cries can be heard in the Chou residence. Despite of the exhausted eyes, Tzuyu's tears still pours out from her eyes one after the another until she finally burst out in loud sobs. She pounded the bed, raked her hair aggressively and threw all her pillows with her clenched fists in all anger, rage and devastation. She remained suffering inside the darkness as the image of you and Momo kissing outside of the gym earlier continues to intensify the pain in her heart and mind while her vengeful state becomes intensified.

The next morning, Jeongyeon and Nayeon had breakfast at a neighboring café in Jeongyeon's neighborhood. In an attempt to lighten the mood, they engaged in talk about unrelated subjects until Nayeon made the decision to go back and concentrate on the actual task they were working on. Nayeon stated inquiringly, "About YN, how did it go well?" but her tone hardly conveyed her curiosity. She will never develop any expectation when your name is spoken. As Jeongyeon was reminded of what had transpired the night before, the disappointment that had been building inside of her surfaced again. "Uhh... nothing.", she said.

Not wanting to get misintepreted and just leave her friend hanging for a lack of detail, she emphasized it further. "I-I mean... it didn't happen."

"What do you mean?" Nayeon furrowed her brows.

Jeongyeon bent her head down and stared at her nearly empty pasta dish. "He didn't show up. The receptionist from his workplace yesterday told me that it was his dayoff but he didn't saw any signs of him outside." To Nayeon's perplexity, Jeongyeon nodded, "So you were supposed to meet him there?" She shook her head and clicked her tongue. "How am I not surprised that he'll forget it." Jeongyeon sighed, "He said he was free." "But anyways, maybe he was with Tzuyu yesterday. I shouldn't complain about it if it was his girlfriend he chose to spend his time rather than me who is his ex." Nayeon saw that you had let Jeongyeon down once more. She knew in advance that you wouldn't provide her the appropriate apologies, like you did a year ago. In retrospect, she was truly appreciative of it as the longer you persist in your obstinacy and self-centeredness, the more she has been inspired to rebel against you in an effort to exact revenge on you for the harm you caused to her friend's weak heart. Even yet, it was difficult for her to accept that the only thing that came of it was that you were still ruthlessly breaking Jeongyeon's heart and now hurting Tzuyu as well, who is aware of the darker part of your nature. Nayeon chimed in, presumably trying to shift the responsibility and allay Jeongyeon's concerns, saying, "It's fine, Jeong. I already knew that it'll go that way." It made her wonder, though, if it was the sole reason behind Jeongyeon's melancholy. "Do you too, right?", she checked. Jeongyeon turned to face her, shocked by Nayeon's persistence. "I-I am." She pretended to be happy. Nayeon's eyes narrowed. She had known Jeongyeon for almost ten years. She's skilled at lying, but because they've grown close to the point where they resemble siblings, Nayeon wouldn't take it well.

"Should I remind him again?" Jeongyeon asked. Nayeon hated to see her slowly getting manipulated again by YN's disguise of being a nice, sweet guy that Jeongyeon used to fall in love- and then get fooled afterwards before. She had to pull her back away in case things gets more alarming.

Nayeon doesn't forget that even after months of their break-up, Jeongyeon is still TRYING to get over him. The man still has this soft spot in her heart which serves as Jeongyeon's weakness from him despite how she despises him from what he did to her.

With that, Nayeon needs to do better and continue to flip that disadvantage into advantage in order to be useful against YN's downfall.

"No need, I still got him kept on track." Nayeon said. "You're right, he was with Tzuyu yesterday. Fortunately she gave me a signal and that way I had to continue following him."

"And did you find anything suspicious?"

Nayeon looked at Jeongyeon's wondering gaze. She breathed deeply and gulped the saliva to her throat before responding.

"Getting there."

Although she detested lying to her friend, she made a mental promise to herself that she was going to tell what was true eventually, as for the time being this had nothing to do with Jeongyeon. On the other side, you parked your motorcycle next to the sidewalk in the interim. You got off and took off your helmet, bringing your personal items with you as you entered the bakery. The chimes chimed as the door opened, attracting the attention of the few individuals within.However, one woman in particular stood for a considerable amount of time staring at the man who had just entered the same room as her. As their eyes locked, a grin slowly appeared on her face.

It became wider when he fell in line and the more he gets closer, her blush became larger and eyes sparkled in front of him.

"Good morning, Mina." You grinned and said hello to the woman who actually owns this business. The more you pursue to intrigue her, the simpler it will be to get her drawn to you. You and Mina first met when her bakery became your go-to place whenever you wanted to have a sample of a fine, freshly baked bread across the street. The first time you discovered this place was when you pointed her location as your recommendation to Jeongyeon for the two of you to try some delicious baked goods to take home.

You led yourselves there with much pleasure. Although Jeongyeon was a stunning lady who accompanied you at the time, as soon as you walked into the bakery, it seemed as though you were drawn constantly and automatically to the alluring beauty of the cashier who was waiting to serve you and your ex-wife. Mina was so lovely. You were quite attached to her when you had the chance to get to know her better and started going to her store frequently. She remembered you as a regular customer because of something in her gentle voice, her melodious laugh, and her carefree smile.

And the more you two get to know yourselves more, you became even more comfortable to atleast try to test this woman with your ways of stealing her heart and making her fall in love with you as much as you are developing the same for her.

"Hey, YN!" Mina welcomed you. "Where have you've been these past few days? Didn't get to see you here."

"Ooohhh missed me already?" You teased her. Mina became shy and takes her eyes away at your sight.

"I-it's not like that, I was just c-curious." Mina reasoned out. "You know that with the most of the times I get to see you coming here, it'll make me feel strange to just suddenly not being able to spot your presence here."

You hummed and nodded, shrugging your shoulders. "Now that I'm here, are you happy now?" You smirked.

Mina giggled at your silliness. "You cheered up also my day more, YN."

"Good for me, because I always love to see your lovely smile, Mina." You reached for her cheeks and pinched it.

She pointed to the many bread and pastry varieties arranged on the glass shelf underneath you and asked, "Stop with the fluttering words, what do you wanna buy?" She got your favorite treats once you mentioned them, packaged them, and calculated the total price. You thanked her after paying and made a gesture to blow her a kiss before heading out of the store. Your kind gesture made the young girl's heart skip a beat, even though she had no idea that she would soon become just another victim of a love fraud.

Back on the current status of the mastermind, Nayeon reaches the place she spent hours monitoring by, which almost made her bored. Entering the place without the needed proper attire, she unbotheredly walked in and approached her next target.

"Hi, miss. Are you here for an class appointment or a simple workout?" The cashier entertains the newly arrived client.

"Oh, nothing. I just want to speak with the owner, please." Nayeon denied. She looked at one of the posters pasted of the wall and found an interesting name. "Ms. Hirai Momo."

"Uhm... sorry miss, but if you don't have any scheduled class with her, I'm afraid I can't allow you to meet her." The lady still didn't accepted her permission.

Nayeon's patience is being tested yet she remained calm, not wanting to cause a scene here especially that the lady is making sense anyway. She can't just come here and asked for a stranger who actively running an establishment as of the moment to engage in a conversation with her.

She sighed before speaking. "Is she currently here, if I may ask? Actually she's a friend of mine.", she said.

"Oh... I'm really sorry miss." The watchlady bowed down to apologize for restricting a close friend of her boss. "But... Ms. Hirai is not here right now and will not be visiting for today."

Nayeon oohed and gave a comprehensible nod. She was a little let down that after traveling this far, the person she wanted to speak with wasn't here. Nevertheless, she wasn't very impacted by it because of her desire and espionage. "Okay, I'll just ask her by myself. And also, don't tell her that I came here today, got it?"

The woman complied with her request. "Thank you."

Nayeon hurried back to her car after leaving the gym. In an instant, she turned on the engine and spun the wheels. "Alright, her home it is then."

She drived for almost less than an hour until she reached a street on Seoul where she spotted the familiar place she has recently been into. Nayeon went out of the car and stepped in front of the gate before pressing the doorbell.

"Who is it?" The occupant inside called through the talkie.

"Hello, is this is the house of Ms. Hirai Momo? I'm a friend of YN's. He told me to give something to you." Nayeon claimed.

"Ah okay, wait there a second please." Momo responded after. Nayeon just chuckled badly at her deceiving words.

She saw a front door opening, and there she was. Momo stepped out of the house and walked through the gate to open it. The two women stood face to face at each other for the first time.

"Hello, sorry to interrupt you on your time today, Ms. Hirai... but can I just speak with you personally for a moment?" Nayeon suggested. The Japanese woman was speechless as she stared at the unfamiliar face for a while before replying, with some doubts forming inside of her.

"S-sure, come in." She gestured her and gave her a way to pass through.

"Thank you. It's nice to meet you by the way, I'm Nayeon." She offered her hand and Momo accepted it with a small smile.

"I'm Momo."

Together, they went into the home when she shut the gate. Momo led Nayeon into the living room and inquired about her preferences; Nayeon ignored her and assured her that their talk would be brief.

"So, you say you have something from YN that you want to give from me?" Momo responded.

Nayeon gave a nod. She prepared herself since she was going to tell this unaware woman about her major plan. "Yes, but let me clarify things first."

Momo was still unable to speak. "This wasn't directly given to me by him, but I assure you that what I have in me right now... was his own doing."

"What do you mean by that?" Momo knitted her brows, expressing confusion on Nayeon's choosing of words. She opened her phone and gave it to Momo. As the latter looks at it to know what the content was, she swear that she felt like her heart was about to lose its function to beat.

"W-what the fuck is this?" Momo slowly losing the volume of her voice, her lips shuddering followed by her hands that are gripping the sacred object presenting the painful truth on her. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm just a generous friend who seeks vengeance for my beloved friend and for those who fell the same situation as her." Nayeon said. "And that includes, you. Momo."

"What are you talking about?!"

She threw the phone beside Nayeon's space in the couch. Momo stood up quickly in anger, creating a screeching sound on the chair she sat in.

Nayeon who didn't flinched, just matched Momo's level of intensity in her stare. "From the way you let me in to your house just by the mention of the name YN LN, I could take it that you knew him really well. Especially if i'm not mistaken... you two have something really fishy going on between yourselves."

Nayeon crossed her legs and continued to view Momo's widened eyes as she listens to this mysterious woman spitting all the revelations in front of her. "You may be asking yourself right now, how do I know about it. I have no choice but to admit, I've been keeping my eyes not only on him... but on you too."

"And why do you stick your nose on us? What do you want from us?!" Momo stomped in irritation.

"No, Momo. By the look of your face after what you saw, it should be what do I want from YOU."

Nayeon grabbed the phone and stood up to confront the emotional Momo. She presented the picture again featuring YN and Tzuyu kissing together in front of the clothing store Tzuyu works at. "Don't you still get it? I'm here to tell you that your man who is my friend's ex-husband is cheating with some other woman. THE SAME THING THAT SHE DID TO MY FRIEND AFTER HE LEFT HER BROKEN AND ALONE!"

Momo winced at Nayeon's scream close to her face, little did she know that the rage and anger that Nayeon is containing inside of her from YN is more terrifying and dangerous. "And fuck him for doing that to her! I even had to fly here back from States to take care of my friend because she needed it!"

"So don't you even dare to pull out any mercy or defense card against that cheating bitch because I swear to God, he never was sincere as you. He doesn't care at all even for you." Nayeon tells Momo. "He deserves nothing but little protection on his side, now that I'm coming for him. But ofcourse, I'm not gonna be like him, I'm not gonna be alone on this fight, because I'm bringing a backup with me."

She stepped forward to narrow her stare deeper on Momo's astounded display after learning your true colors.

"You have to join me on this one, Momo. Do this with me not only for Jeongyeon and Tzuyu... but for yourself too."

Momo finally whimpered and shed tears down across her face as she couldn't bear the aching feeling disturbing her both straight into her heart and mind. She is still in disbelief that you dared to include her on your dirty mind games and offensive tricks.

"This isn't true..." Momo shook her head rapidly. Her heart that was already became fond of his affection is fighting for denial just for the sake of her love. "He told me that he loved me..."

"He never truly did, unnie." Another feminine voice just interrupted whuch effectively stole Nayeon and Momo's attention. Sana who is at the stairs, sitting and has been watching their argument from the start after hearing loud voices coming from downstairs, heard everything they talked about.

"S-Sana?" Momo questionably called her.

Sana lowered her head in a mix of afraid and nervousness from what she's about to tell her long-time friend. "I was a victim of YN's mischief too, unnie."

Nayeon who didn't expect the sudden turn of events, took the turn to interrogate the new girl. "What did he do to you?"

A bit of a flashback when YN went to Momo's home, after some fun times they shared through most of the afternoon, Momo became tired and fell asleep on his lap.

Sana who was currently working on the bunch of records she has to encode as her job, took a short break by going down, filling up some cold water and taking some nice sweet dessert to regenerate herself on finishing her task.

After she finished drinking a refreshing water, she got taken aback when she felt YN nuzzled on her neck while hugging him from behind.

"You smell so good today, Sana. I missed your scent so much." He said as he took another huge sniff on her nape. "Did you just took a bath earlier?"

Sana turned around and slapped him on the face quickly. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Cmon, Sana really? We've been like this close for some time now and you're gonna act dumb on it?" He tried to reach her waist but Sana pushed him away.

"I know what you're trying to say, but I never wanted it and I never even gave you the rights to touch me freely like as if you own me." Sana retorted, with a slight grunt on her voice.

"Oh you will be mine, soon. Are you really gonna keep being feisty against me? I'm liking it more, you know?" He stepped forward, prompting Sana to lean back which only led to her front body to purse closer. "Makes you look hotter to me."

"Stop being ridiculous, for fuck's sake, YN!" Sana kicked him in the shin causing him to groan almost in the pain before shutting his mouth to avoid Momo from waking up. "Momo is in love with you, have some shame please!"

She just walked away from YN, leaving him glaring on her annoyingly. "And can you just please leave me alone and get out of here now. You can visit Momo unnie again tomorrow or else I'll force you out by myself."

At the end of her recollection, Sana looked apologetically at Momo who felt pity for her cousin being harassed by the man she thought her intentions for love was nothing but pure behind her back.

"And I want you to believe her because... I-I fell in love for him too, unnie." Sana seethed the pain from her chest. "But I never liked what he's doing to me because I know he already has you, unnie. It's not right. And I always want you to be happy ever since we were kids, you know that. That's why when I learn that you got him first, I just let it aside even if it'll hurt me."

Momo cried harder, as the guilt and her sympathy for her cousin grew. "So please, listen to me unnie. Don't let him just do this on you."

All three of them became silent after Momo repeatedly spoke 'I'm sorry' for her cousin who chose to sacrifice letting go of her feelings for the man she loves in order to let the person she cherish the most in her life continue to experience the happiness she's getting from the same man she would've love to receive from.

Sana choosing her over you as the more important option was nothing for Momo to be infuriated about on her cousin who is loving the same man she loves also. She was rather acknowledged her decision more. She has now realized that not only her, but her cousin was also just got manipulated by his fake personality.

"So, what are you gonna do, Momo? Would you still remain your side linked on the man who is just using you for his own desire or you will listen to your cousin who cared far better for you than him?" Nayeon set the options for Momo to pick.

"If your purpose of coming to us was to get back on him for playing on our feelings..."

"... then we're joining you" Momo finished Sana's words. Nayeon encapsulated a satisfied smirk at their right response, which provided an additional inclusion to her revengeful accomplices against YN's toxic and unforgivable ways. "He has to regret messing on our feelings like it was nothing."

Meanwhile, you went to the ground floor of your building to retrieve a key from one of the rooms at the conceirge to access it after finishing your lunch.

You were about to head out of the building to look for some meal to feast when the figure of Jeongyeon looking at your direction as she sits at one of the chairs on the waiting area caught your sight.

"Jeongyeon, hey!" You greeted her, almost impressed at yourself for not being awkward already on meeting her, probably due to your reestablished connection with her as a friends through her initiation. "You're back."

However, he was rather surprised that Jeongyeon is wearing a sullen mood, her lips are pouting at his approach. "Hey."

"What's wrong? You look so down. Is there a problem?"

He then got hit by her bag as she glared madly at him. "You really forget about what we agreed on yesterday, don't you?"

"O-oh wait, no!" You denied, adding some hand gestures to emphasize your reaction. "Ofcourse I don't, how would I be?"

"Then why didn't you showed up?" Jeongyeon rolled her eyes. "You never changed. You really can't be tr-"

"Wait look, my girlfriend needed me more okay?" You stated your reason. Jeongyeon felt a pang on her chest at the mention of Tzuyu, dragging her mood even lower, as if it was unnecessary. "She needed me to take care of her because she didn't really feel good after leaving her work."

"Ahh... I see... okay. I understand." Jeongyeon faked a smile and nodded. "I mean, it's your girl. Her priority is more important than me who is nothing but on-"

"I was about to message you but I noticed that you blocked me in every contacts that we used to have." You added, stopping Jeongyeon from her drama. She paused and then realized her own mistake. "So I didn't get a chance to inform you, well thankfully you're here to let me to tell you personally."

"O-oh, is that so?" Jeongyeon said with a sheepish chuckle. "I-I'm sorry. I forgot to unblock you. I guess I also forgot on my part."

You just laughed and shook at how hilarious the coincidence that just occurred. "It's fine. But can you forgive me now too?"

Jeongyeon was about to speak but she sensed some bit of a hidden message there, creating some trouble within herself. She is compelled to say it but something is also pulling her back from doing it. Perhaps it's simply her tendency to overthink things, but there was a clear reason why the word he just spoke became sensitive to her as well. She observed you again, and her face shifted to a bland demeanor when she had intepreted that it's still not for the one thing she's hoping to have from him. Jeongyeon guessed it'll take her more than that to qualify his sincerity for the casualties she had cost.

"Jeongyeon, you're alright?" You checked up on her as you noticed she got lost on her deep thoughts again.

Snapping out of her trances, she blinked rapidly and faced you again. "Y-yeah, I'm okay. You're going to eat right?"

"Yeah. It's my break now."

"Then I'm joining you, if you mind?"

You smiled at Jeongyeon's insist. "Sure. Let me pick some place for us."

After successfully visiting a restaurant, you and Jeongyeon ordered your foods and to your kindness, you persuaded that you'll be paying Jeongyeon's bill in which she declined at first but only ended up letting you as you also didn't allow her to reject your offer.

You two had a very comfortable and lively lunch, partnered with some engaging conversation about your recent happenings in life, while proceeding to exclude what happened to the two of you in the past.

In turn, you couldn't help but notice the strength and grace with which Jeongyeon had moved forward in her life. Her charming and alluring beauty that was used to hook your feelings on her, you couldn't deny that it never failed to do you so. It's starting to create statics of clips from some of your memories of her where your mood and your adoration for her gets uplifted simultaneously whenever you see this wonderful view of her.

In relief, the waiter distracted your reminiscence of Jeongyeon that is almost getting on your feelings again, passing the receipt of your ordered foods before you gave your payment.

Leaving the restaurant with Jeongyeon after finishing your lunch with her, you and her returned to your workplace. "Thanks for paying for my meal, YN."

"No problem, it's my way of catching up to you." You said. Jeongyeon appreciated the thoughtfulness.

"Well, I have to go now. I still have somewhere to go, I just came here to remind about our supposed meetup yesterday." Jeongyeon excused herself.

"Oh okay, be safe on the road Jeongyeon." You understand, nodding softly and smiling at her. "Goodbye and thanks for the time!"

"You too, YN." Jeongyeon waved her hand at you, but instead you returned the gesture by wrapping her around on your embrance, sending undescribable sensation tingling around her body. "I-it's really good to have you back, Jeong.", you remarked about the redefinition of your relationship with her. Jeongyeon listened, her heart surprisingly softened as she heard the tenderness in his voice.

Now that you disappeared in front of her and entered the building again, that left Jeongyeon to be stunned once again at your heartful and cheerful action, she sighed deeply and clenched her fists at how tough it is again to resist the glimpse of your old being while knowing the bitter truth of it that you still haven't changed, leading yourself astray.

She watched your back distancing away from her, breathing gets heavier as a result of a familiar longing feeling increasing, having her saddened at your lunch that brings her back to that particular time in the past when she had her first date with you and those other numerous times you had to take her outside before, almost giving the same vibes in comparison.

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crazyhearttragedy · 5 months

Text

Shades of Ambition -Coriolanus Snow x Reader

Warning: This piece contains brief mentions of violence and manipulation.

AN: Hope you enjoy! Someone asked me to put warnings before the one shot, so I'll try doing that in the future. Thank you for 269 followers!

A sea of glittering gowns and tailored suits flooded the Grand Ballroom, echoes of laughter and the clinking of champagne glasses filling the air. Amidst the opulence, you stood, an ambitious young socialite with dreams of making a name for yourself.

Just like Coriolanus Snow.

His name commanded attention, his mere presence capable of turning heads. Tonight, beneath the cascading chandeliers, he was a vision of aristocratic charm. His slicked-back silver hair framed his handsome face, and his piercing blue eyes surveyed the room with a calculating gaze that left you breathless.

It had been weeks since you first laid eyes on him. The conversation that shattered the silence of a gallery exhibition, where his wit and intellectual prowess outshone the artwork itself. From that moment on, you were mesmerized. Enthralled.

Desire fueling ambition, you maneuvered through the crowd, determined to captivate him. You spotted him engrossed in conversation with Capitol power players, politicians, and influential figures. Their words dripped with honeyed charm, masks of courtesy disguising their ruthless politics.

Your heart raced as you made your way closer, inching through the crowd like a predator stalking its prey. When you finally stood before Coriolanus Snow, his gaze fixated on you, and an inscrutable smile played on his lips.

"Mr. Snow," you greeted, your voice laced with confidence.

"Ah, if it isn't the enchanting (Y/N)," he responded, his voice smooth as silk. "What brings you to the lion's den tonight?"

You suppressed a nervous giggle, determined to maintain your composure. "A taste for adventure, or perhaps a desire to test my mettle against the fiercest predators," you replied, a hint of playful challenge in your words.

He regarded you for a moment before offering his arm. "In that case, why don't we explore the jungle together?"

You accepted his arm, feeling the thrill of danger mingling with the fluttering excitement in your chest. As you strolled through the ballroom, his conversation encompassed a vast range of topics, showcasing his breadth of knowledge. He possessed an insatiable thirst for power and influence, manipulating words with skillful precision.

Intrigued, you let yourself become entangled in his web of intellectual charms. The hours passed like fleeting moments, your laughter blending with his, each passing minute deepening the connection shared between you.

But the night was not simply a dance of intellect and flirtation. Hidden beneath the veneer of grandeur and decadence lay political undertones, each subtle movement a carefully calculated step towards a world dominated by power.

As the evening waned, the music slowing to a melancholic tune, Coriolanus Snow leaned in, his breath whispering against your ear. "I believe even the most delicate flowers could wield formidable power in the right hands," he murmured, his voice dripping with intent.

His words held an edge, awakening something within you, nurturing the prickling tendrils of ambition that had taken root in your soul. The collision of your aspirations and his persona was intoxicating, burning like the unquenchable fire of revolution.

But beneath the allure, a warning spark danced in his eyes, an undercurrent of darkness overshadowing his charm. It was a glimpse, a fissure through which your fascination was tinged with trepidation.

As the night drew to a close, you found yourself longing for more, for another chance to dance with the embodiment of ambition himself. But the path to power was not paved with roses, and the web of manipulation twisted ever tighter.

Time would reveal the true nature of this dance, where hearts would be broken, alliances shattered, and lines crossed. But for now, in the glow of the Grand Ballroom, you reveled in the tantalizing seduction of ambition and the dangerous allure of Coriolanus Snow.

Little did you know that the young man who held your thoughts captive would rise to become the most notorious leader Panem had ever known — President Coriolanus Snow.

#y/n #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #hunger games x reader #hunger games fanfic

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ladythornofrivia · 8 months

Text

the gallery of mournful heart

Pair: Takeomi x Reader (mentions of Shinichiro x Reader in the past)

Warnings: Grief, Takeomi is a playboy/cheater, one-sided relationship with gf, having an affair with the reader, who Takeomi have fell in love with for years before and after Shinichiro died. Cussing, sex, good girl kink, reader is pregnant with Shinichiro’s child. Self-harm, alcohol, abuse. Takeomi is horny af, and reader is sad about Shinichiro. Shinichiro is a sweetheart, but is dead.

a/n: i made a poll months ago, that I said I’ll be doing this as a series. I decided to make it as a one-shot. A very long one. Hope you enjoy.

Things hadn’t been easy for everyone, especially for Takeomi, who have been fucking so many girls ever since Brahman is established. He wanted to forget the means of pain and suffering when his dearest friend, who dubbed Takeomi as a “rain-bringer”, passed on from a sudden kill. Takeomi brings girls in the meetings, brings girls at a private dinners, then brings girls at the club. Every night, he brings girls to forget his awakened state of melancholy and deep-fear of self-hate. He had been spending his money on parties, clubs, drinks, and even condoms when it comes orgy and horniness spewing out from his inner thoughts.

Things have been easy and difficult for the man, he never settled for anyone, except for the girl name Mika, who he has been hooking up with for three months. Brahman noticed this, and thought Takeomi is now finished horsing around with his dick out, plunging into every girl’s vagina, whether taking someone’s virginity or those who are experienced withe sexual intercourses.

Things have been quiet since Takeomi spoiled Mika with large prices of accessories and dresses. Mika is the prettiest one of them all. However, Takeomi wasn’t contented. Each time he spoils his new girlfriend with black card, he knew deep down that he’s doing all of this for a coping mechanism, of not facing the harsh reality. Everyone in Brahman is broken, meanwhile from the Kantou Manji Gang’s side, the Haitani brothers having a blast with much ladies and their DJ occupation. Sanzu, his young brother, enjoy his killing spree while serving Mikey at a god-tier service, though most likely he doesn’t want to know about Sanzu’s whereabouts.

Takeomi heeded Mika’s words each time she was sad about her daily life, making him take out his black credit card for her to shut her mouth and go into an ultimate shopping spree. Little did she know, he grew tired of her. Something was missing in his life, he doesn’t know what killed his mood each time he bring girls over. The satisfaction of climax to someone’s cunt is exhilarating beyond words, but after that, he kicked them out.

Day goes by when Takeomi had enough with Mika. All the crying and whining on how working as a hostess is hard, realizing she wanted nothing more but to be as Takeomi’s bitch full-time. She didn’t want to earn money through hours on end, and having the access from Brahman’s status, everything goes smoothly for her. Takeomi wasn’t having it, so he spent time finding other girls that wasn’t as annoyingly persistent with his money. Everything went to shit when his room is ransacked. Mika took everything with her, thus calling “cleaners” to kill her on the spot to have his belongings back. It was a nightmare, but Brahman made sure that Mika’s fate is bound to be as a missing girl in the news.

~~~

He couldn’t sleep. Nothing was working for him; he tried every sleeping method and every suggestion from the expertise. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it up, until the smoke escalated towards the ceiling.

So far, he wasn’t feeling well or in the mood for fucking. Instead he thought of a different lens tonight. He longed for prosperity—the prosperity from his past days. He remembered the days where he was once as the God of War, he remembered on how his friends, Wakasa and Benkei, and their leader, Shinichiro Sano, the weakest leader, took over as the first generation Black Dragons. Compare from now to then, one thing that Black Dragons didn’t have is the perseverance of killing or torturing others or traitors. Black Dragons is nothing more than a simple glory, the glory days of fist fights—real fights, and teamwork, thanks to Shinichiro’s persuasive skills. Everyone, even the strongest, the mightiest of men, looked up to Shinichiro. Days in the past, all that Takeomi ever did is to watch Shinichiro take the lead, every moment he has with the Black Dragons is just another memory in his teenage years, up until his early-twenties. Everyone watched Shinichiro getting beaten, and everyone watching him getting rejected by girls 20 times. With every failure Shinichiro received, he never gave up, and find another.

He nearly forgot what Shinichiro sounds like, but still recalled his expression each time he got turned down by the girls. Shinichiro is the kind of man who gets mopey with puppy eyes. Thus Takeomi, although still teasing Shinichiro, he suggested Shinichiro to not give up.

Shinichiro is the loser from fights and girls. Until he met someone special.

You. The ever shy and talented girl, always carrying a sketchbook and pencil in hand. Takeomi took another puff as he recalled on your youngish features. You are brightly and beautiful, with a dimple on your cheeks, send Takeomi’s heart with sway, though he won’t admit. Unlike Shinichiro, he took his chance to make a conversation with you, getting to you. Hearing all the praises from Shinichiro, even though friendly, but Takeomi shouldn’t take it to the heart. He wanted his friend to be happy, to be given at chance with love at life. He watched you two spend each other’s time, watching him flirt with you, court with you, while you’re taking it all in with a smile etched onto your face. Everything about you was as bright as the moonlight’s star, eyes shining when meeting his siblings, the group, and how much happiness you delivered alongside Shinichiro’s cheeky and playful side showing every time. Each day and each night, Takeomi wondered what happens if he ended up courting you instead of Shinichiro.

He didn’t want to betray Shinichiro and his romantic heart, so he let them be. You occasionally spoke to Takeomi, asking him if he wanted to hang out for a sleepover and watching a movie at Shinichiro’s place. He felt happy when you spoke to him, how your gaze send at his direction with a kind smile and cheeky dimples.

Takeomi, without a doubt, went for a sleepover, for your sake. Each time you inched closer to Shinichiro, Takeomi’s heart was about to burst from heartbreak. But carried on as if nothing happened.

Years went by, Shinichiro proposed to you. You saying “yes”, is the happiest moment in Shinichiro’s life, but great and profound sadness in Takeomi’s, as Mikey blurted out belligerently to his close friends, especially Haruchiyo.

But it all changed in one night, where Shinichiro is killed at the bike shop by Mikey’s closest friends, who only wanted to give Mikey a new bike by stealing. Their punishment was sentence in a lighter years, but gained a heavier burden when Takeomi found out you disappeared the night after Shinichiro’s funeral.

The trace of your words, your face and smile, vanished. Although Mikey and his friends are grateful you’re with them throughout the years, they couldn’t bear the thought of losing their older sister—their sister-in-law. Nobody knows where you went.

A day later, Takeomi decided to do his own investigation by hiring a spy—Sanzu, who he despised—in order to see what have you been up to these days. So far, no one is able to reach you.

Frustrated, he wasted another set of money by giving the cash to his younger brother, who he doesn’t want to see. Long story short, Sanzu told him that you aren’t in Japan. You were in a different country. Understandable enough that you don’t want to prolong your stay in Japan, as everything reminds you of Shinichiro. He couldn’t blame you. Thus, he gave up.

Until a storming night came, in the year of 2008.

When he got out from the nightclub, he stumbled across a noise coming from the back alleyway. A deafened noise pierced into his ears as he walked over to see a young man gripping its grasp onto a woman’s wrist. When Takeomi scared the man off, Takeomi asked the woman is okay. But the woman he spoke to is none other than you, outside in a cold stormy weather, with a weeping child carrying into your shaking arms.

Seems like Sanzu got the intel wrong regarding to you. You never left the country to begin with, your life squandered the day Shinichiro died. You tried to find every job that pays a decent salary, but ended up getting kicked out onto the streets because they don’t want a young mother to be a burden to the company.

With a touching reunion, Takeomi took you into Kantou Manji Gang’s quarters, though for a short time, due to conflicted rivalry reasons. When you introduced yourself, some people aghast, as if they’ve seen a ghost. Sanzu was the first person to approach with open arms. The rest were in awe, and as for Mikey, he looked at you empty eyes, until a shred of light came into his eyes and dropped on his knees, shedding his tears as you took Mikey into your arms, apologizing on how you weren’t there for him. Mikey, the leader of Kantou Manji Gang, became a little boy once more into your arms, a twenty-eight year old woman with a baby in your other arm.

After that, you and Takeomi left and went into his apartment.

When you settled into the building, you almost couldn’t help but to feel that there’s hope alight in your heart again. Every mistake and regret you carried, diminished.

Takeomi offered you a smoke, but you reminded him of the baby in your arms.

“So, who’s child is it?” he asked.

With a sniffle, your voice croaked with, “Shinichiro’s,” you said.

His heart stopped.

“Every day when I look at my son, he reminded so much of him. My child, he shouldn’t have dealt with pain that I caused. If only I was with Shinichiro, on that night at the S.S. Motors, things would’ve been different. I failed him. I failed him and my precious boy.”

With a long sigh, Takeomi sat down beside you. “None of this is your fault. You were just waiting for him to come back and celebrate your engagement.”

“When I carried him into my belly, I couldn’t help what life is supposed to be like without Shinichiro. Or what life is like with Shinichiro. Everything about him is so bright and warm and happy. No one ever loved me like he did. All I have at that time was a sketchbook and art supplies to cope the last shred of my sanity. Every dream I shared, he supported me. He protected me and gave me happiness. And each time when he gets frustrated, I always make sure I stay at his side, no matter what. It feels different when I stayed at Shinichiro’s gravestone at the cemetery. Every night and day, I always convinced myself that maybe Shinichiro just ran away and not tell me where he went. I always try to convince myself that he’s still alive, hiding somewhere far beyond my sight and touch. And with my beautiful child into my arms, I didn’t want him to end up in the same fate, but each time I try to fix my life, it always went in the wrong direction. Whenever I try to stay strong for him, I always felt that I’m going to break, the walls I’ve built are going to break. Every day and every night, I visited his grave, sometimes I even sleep because I don’t want my memories and warmth to fade with him in the grave. I don’t want Akira to grow up and see me in this state.”

Takeomi said nothing but gave a firm hug slung over your shoulders and tugged your head gently to weigh against his shoulder.

“I’m here, if you need me,” he said, patting you. “I’m here when you show your weakness or the ugliness inside that’s trapped in your heart. I can ease the pain you’re in. With me, you have nothing to be afraid of. With whatever your son needs, I’ll be there for him, too.”

“I don’t know if I could take it anymore,” you said, “my head is too exhausted, event after event. I’ve been nothing but a shut-in for a couple weeks, and when I did get a job, I almost get bullied by being just a young mother. I wanted the best future for my son, but I just don’t know how.”

Takeomi clasped your shoulder. “We’ll be there for him.”

“How? I’ve heard news regarding to you and to Mikey. Your reputation now is far different from what you have back then.”

Takeomi’s gaze lowered. “It may changed the establishment between enemies, but it doesn’t mean it changed between us. Whatever we have before, it never changed until now. (y/n), for years I’ve watched you, I always wanted to tell you how kind and beautiful and talented you are. Your smile gave me purpose, whatever drives me now, I’ll always be there for you.”

Your head pulled back from his shoulder. “You liked me?”

“I’ve always love you,” he confessed. “I know it won’t repair our past mistakes, but it doesn’t mean it’ll be like that. I want to take it slow, give you a chance of what it means to be alive again. Alive with purpose, alive with happiness and strength from the things you have to endure. I want you in my life, (y/n). Nothing more and nothing less.”

“Takeomi….” you breathed, tears in your eyes began to burn.

“I won’t let you slip from my fingers. I know that anything I say won’t be as impactful as Shinichiro’s, but I’ll try to take his stead for you, especially your son.”

Your hand stroke your son’s face, and tucked him in with a worn out blanket. “I’d give anything for my son, even if it means the cost of an arm and a leg.”

Takeomi pulled you into him embrace. “I’d be willing to cost an arm and a leg for you.”

You said nothing but gaze into his gloomy eyes.

“Your son…is he alright?”

“He’s alright. He just needs food and new clothes.”

“How old is he now?”

“Five years old.”

Takeomi kissed atop of your head. “Leave everything to me. I’ll take of you and…”

“Akira,” you said with a quivered smile.

“Rest,” he said, placing you down on the bed. “Rest and I’ll be taking care of everything you and your son needs. Shinichiro wouldn’t be happy if he sees you crying like this.” His thumb pressed against your cheek.

“Is he mad at me?” you asked.

“Who? Mikey?” Takeomi shook his head. “I don’t think so. Ever since you left, he’s been trying to search for you left and right with a help of his gang. But soon gave up because they thought you died, too. Hopefully you coming back will change Mikey’s mind since they plan on ambushing the gang and all.”

“I’m not dead; I’m not a ghost. Tell Mikey that. I want us to be a family again, and redeem the pains from the past…to subside it.”

“You’re a good girl, (y/n),” Takeomi said, as he knelt down onto your level to kiss your lips, and lightly smacking and squeezing your ass. A little laugh escaped from your lips; Takeomi smirked at the outcome. “You’ve been brave for so long. You can take a long rest now, because I’m not going anywhere. I’ll do everything for you and Akira to have a bright future.”

“For him, but not for me,” you said.”

“It’s never too late to start over,” Takeomi answered in a gentle whisper. Then kissed deeply onto your lips once more. “You okay, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You found me on a stormy weather.”

“I’m a rain-bringer for a reason.”

You giggled. “A storm-bringer.” And looked at him with the vulnerable gleam in your eyes flooded with warmth.

Once Takeomi left the bedroom, his heart felt glad again. He wanted to keep you at his side at all cost. Your life improved magnificently. So does the members between gangs—Brahman and Kantou Manji Gang are allies. You have a job as Mikey’s secretary, taking care of Akira by providing him with best food supplies and diapers and new blankets and toys thanks to Kokonoi. And provided Akira with learning books—you wanted to hear Akira’s first words. And each time you and Takeomi spent time together, you couldn’t help but notice that you fell over heels for him. But the difference was, Takeomi fell in love with you the first time he saw you. And thus, spilling every secret passions in between the sheets, you got your happiness back. Your dreams of becoming an artist rekindled, and with Takeomi at your side, and Akira’s future is safe with love and comfort, and with pain of Shinichiro’s passing, letting Shinichiro’s soul rest, the pain in your past life is nothing more than a faded scar.

Taglist: @galactict3a

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frenchkisstheabyss · 6 months

Text

✶ Pendulum ✶

✶ Pairing: model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader

✶ Genre: fluff, angst, smut

✶ Summary: You visit Hyunjin on the night of his big art exhibit intent on closing this chapter of your life but he's not willing to let go that easily.

✶ Word Count: 1.2k-ish

✶ Warnings: Hyunjin's a lil bit possessive, fingering, nibbling, marking, and that's about it my loves

✶ A/N: This is part two of a Hyunjin/Minho love triangle fic that has come to emotionally wreck me but I love it and fingers crossed you will too! 🖤 part three is here 🖤

It’s been three weeks since Paris Fashion Week. Three weeks since you fell in love with Minho. Three weeks of falling asleep on FaceTime and sneaking little moments in with each other between your busy schedules. There was no way to anticipate that you’d come to mean this much to each other, your feelings deepening as the days go on.

Saying yes to that date with Minho opened the door to a new way of being cherished that only he can offer. But there remains a thread tied to the corner of your heart, tugging you back to your past. If you’re to step through the door that lies before you, you must first shut the one that lies behind...

And that’s what brings you here...

to an upscale art gallery a half hour before Hyunjin’s first exhibit. Crisp autumn leaves dance along the pavement, a ballet of deep reds and vibrant yellows, as you flee the chilly night air for the warmth of the sleek, rustic gallery. Matte black walls combine with polished cherry wood accents to give you the sense that you’re somewhere you can be comfortable. But not too comfortable.

You can already smell his cologne, cedar and spice, coasting through the air to greet you before he appears at the top of the stairs to your left. “You came,” he says, feigning indifference as he takes his time descending the stairs. After he broke your heart you insisted that he no longer held any power over you. The spell had been broken, or so you thought. So you hoped. But no such thing is true.

Hyunjin moves like a gazelle, his limbs long and graceful. He somehow manages to make the simple act of walking feel like a performance art piece. Tonight he’s pulled his hair back into a high ponytail, a few delicate strands left hanging to frame his now smiling face. Standing before you, he extends an arm, his hand patiently at your service. You slip out of your jacket, tossing it over his arm.

“Well, you said you wanted to talk so I’m here.” Hyunjin laughs, finding amusement in the way you’ve turned the tables. Pretending not to care when you both know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. “I was going to take your hand—” he starts, his gaze trailing behind you as you journey deeper into the gallery.

You always thought it a shame that people could never seem to get past his physical appearance long enough to see what’s truly special about him. Surrounded by his art, drawings and paintings he’d once only been brave enough to reveal to you, you can’t help but feel proud of him. “Hwang Hyunjin, jack of all trades” you sigh, stopping to get a closer look at a watercolor painting of butterflies whose wings seemingly melt down the canvas.

Hyunjin joins you, ignoring the painting to admire your silk black dress.

“Jack of all trades, master of none, but I’m still, I guess, better than a master of one.”

“Mmm, I don’t know about that. What’s so bad about a master of one? Maybe the master of one just knows where his heart is.”

The back of his hand strokes your arm, sending an electric current through your body. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that he’s moved closer. Close enough for the sensation of his breath on your neck to give you shivers when he asks, “Where’s yours?” “Where’s my what?” Your head snaps toward him, the accusatory tone of his voice triggering your defenses.

“Your heart. Do you know where it is?”

“You have no right to ask me that. Not when you broke it.” Every fiber of your being is telling you to run away and Hyunjin must sense it because his arms are around you before you can make your grand escape. “Don’t run from me” he pleads, “Just tell me what I can do to fix it.” You’ve never seen Hyunjin cry before but the moisture pooling in the corners of his eyes is a sure sign that you might.

Nothing can erase the pain that he made you feel yet you can’t deny what he’s done since to ease it. Showing up to Paris Fashion Week alone, refusing to arrive with any woman who wasn't you. Admitting where he went wrong when it came to being honest with you. Apologizing in every language he knows and in a few he doesn't. Professing his love for you openly among your social circle without a care for how sensitive they may think he is.

He’s stepped so far outside of his character that occasionally you had to pinch yourself to make sure his efforts weren’t all in your head. To ask more of him feels almost sadistic. “It’s not you” you admit, lifting some of the pressure from his shoulders, “I’m just, I don’t know. Afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“Of the piece of my heart that’s still here with you.” You love him still. And you can’t outrun it any more than you could the way your heart ached for Minho when he first touched your hand, comforting you before the red carpet all those nights ago. You hate yourself for it, wishing that you could make these feelings disappear, all the while surrendering to Hyunjin’s kiss.

He sweeps you into it without warning, no longer able to control the need to feel your tongue against his. Kissing him is that first bite of your favorite food after you’ve been deprived of it for far too long. Your senses are aflame, moisture creeping between your thighs as he presses your back to the wall. Hyunjin buries his face between your breasts, his tongue lashing and nibbling as they rise and fall with each bated breath you take.

Your fingers tangle with his hair, the tie that keeps his ponytail secure quickly slipping to the floor. “You have to be mine again,” he says, not asking but telling. Demanding. He raises one of your legs to straddle his hip, pushing a hand between you to knead your pillow soft thighs. “He can’t have you. I won’t let him.” Hyunjin kisses you all over, suckling at your sensitive skin to mark his territory.

Pushing his hips further between your legs, he teases the wetness of your panties, your clit already stiff enough to feel through the thin cotton. “Hyunjin, please—” you beg, not quite knowing what you’re begging for. Less? More? The arch of your back as his fingers dive into your core decides it’s ‘more’. He pulls back, his free hand reaching up to cup your cheek, “Say my name again.”

His fingers pick up speed, your walls spasming with each unforgiving twist of his wrist. “Hyunjin” you whine, gripping his shoulders to keep yourself from crumbling to the ground. He missed seeing you this way. Dressed up all pretty, lipstick smeared across your face, moaning his name. Your juices stream down his wrist, leaving tiny drops of your arousal on his sleeve. He welcomes it. Welcomes anything that’ll leave your scent behind for later. “Mine. Always mine” he repeats, circling your clit with his thumb.

You should’ve never come here. You should’ve stayed as far away from this man as possible. But there’s no use crying over spilled milk. The reality is that you didn’t stay away. Hyunjin called and you came now you’re coming around his fingers, allowing yourself to be claimed once more by the lust filled demons of your past. And, oh, what a glorious one he is.

#hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin angst #chubby reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids x you #plus size reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut

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cophene · 5 months

Text

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄 | ohshc; seven.

* • ° art gallery thief

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pairing : ohshc x gn reader summary : perhaps no one at ouran is more qualified to deal with a broken heart than the host club. with a student’s heartbreak painfully obvious to everyone but themself, the host club takes it upon themselves to remedy that. all against that student’s better judgement. notes : multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 2.5k+

“Your mother was wondering if you would be able to stop by one of the galleries to pick up a statue for the gathering tonight. I’m afraid she forgot one of them and it happens to be one of her favourites.”

You finished off your drink, nodding at your family’s valet. “Yeah, no problem. It’s that marble one, right? The one of the milkmaid?”

The valet inclined his head. “That would be the one. If you could deliver it before seven, that would be ideal. I would go myself but the director requires a signature from the family.”

“Gotcha.” You swung off your seat, then went through the foyer outside. You waved your hand for your chauffeur to come meet you and slipped into your car beside him on the passenger side.

Your spare time was usually spent on volunteering and volleyball practice. Since you’d taken a break from all of that though, you found yourself lazing around your house and slinking through your thoughts a lot more. Your parents liked giving you little errands to do every now and then, but it always felt a little redundant considering your family’s valet, chauffeur, and various staff members could get the job done just as well.

You rested your cheek on your hand, watching the streets pass by. You guessed that your chauffeur was a lot less busy now too, considering you were home almost all of the time now.

Your parents crept around your breakup like it was a landmine. They knew about it, and likely the rest of your family staff did too, but they were very careful never to mention it. As far as they were concerned, the trip to Malta had never happened, and you were just taking a break from all of your hobbies to avoid burnout. You appreciated the discretion, but the nosiness that simmered was almost as bad as outright prying would have been. Everyone treaded lightly around you, like you would break into tears at the merest breath about Malta. So far, only your valet treated you normally, his briskness the same as it had always been.

You sighed quietly. It was a little irritating, but your family and the staff were the last people you wanted to talk about the breakup with.

Honestly, he was the only one you would be willing to talk to and that only made you sadder.

Get over him. What’s so hard about that?

You let your head thud against the glass. You never should have gone to Malta. Who even went to Malta for vacation anyways?

Your chauffeur dropped you off at the gallery and you nodded when he told you he’d be waiting near the front entrance. It was close to closing time and visitors were starting to trickle out of the gallery. Having been here a few times already, you made a beeline to the director’s office, none of the paintings or artwork on display notable enough to catch your eye.

You knocked primly on the door and waited. You found it strange that the director didn’t answer right away, since she tended to know when you would be coming around. You knocked again when five minutes went by, starting to feel impatient.

“Are you looking for Madam Director?”

You internally cringed at the nasally voice. “Yeah, is she in?”

“No, she left for the evening. Is there something I can help you with?” The unfortunate voice belonged to a walking beanpole wearing a yellow sweater and a bad haircut. You didn’t recognize him. He must have been a new assistant.

“I’m here for L/N-san. There’s a statue here that I'm supposed to pick up for display at her party tonight.”

“I didn’t hear anything about that,” Beanpole said. “The gallery doesn’t have a policy of lending anyone anything.”

Oh boy. This guy was really new. You smiled sweetly at him. “L/N-san is a major benefactor and shareholder of the gallery. The statue … lease has already been approved of beforehand. I’m sure if you call Madam Director, she can confirm.”

Beanpole frowned. “All art pieces in this gallery are quite valuable. I doubt any benefactor would be cleared to lease anything. I suggest you leave if that’s the story you’re sticking with. The gallery will be closing in twenty minutes.”

Who in the— why was this beanpole giving you a hard time? All you wanted was the statue that your parents were probably going to display on the patio. Did he think you were a thief? One that was stupid enough to ask for the statue straight up?

“Look—” you gritted out, but just then you felt someone pull your elbow until you were flush against their side.

“There you are. We lost you.” The person fluttered their fingers at Beanpole. “Sorry about that. It’s so easy to get lost in this lovely gallery.”

They pulled you away and you let them until Beanpole was out of sight.

“What are you doing here?” You couldn’t help sounding accusatory.

Tamaki raised his hands. “Why, I’m appreciating art and culture. And now that you’re here, exceptional beauty.”

You clenched your jaw. Then, the back of your neck prickled and you swivelled your head.

“Great, the Demon King’s here too.”

Kyoya came to stand beside Tamaki, his hands tucked into his pockets. “It’s the Shadow King, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

You looked between the two of them, instantly suspicious at how well-dressed they were. Tamaki was wearing coral-pink trousers and a flowy, paisley button-up. Kyoya’s light-blue turtleneck was slim-fitting and tucked into dark pants.

Tamaki innocently echoed your question. “What are you doing here?”

A snarky response was on the edge of your tongue but you swallowed it, not having the energy for it. “I’m here to pick up a statue for my mom but Beanpole over there won’t let me get it.”

“Oh, you mean the new assistant director?” said Kyoya. “He is quite the stickler for rules.”

“How do you know that?”

Kyoya looked at you. “You don’t know that?”

You raised your hackles. “Yeah, well, I need that statue.”

“If you need help, then Kyoya and I would be happy to,” Tamaki said, grinning.

Need was a strong word, but you weren’t in the mood to deal with Beanpole right now and Kyoya and Tamaki were already in front of you. You shrugged and Tamaki clapped his hands together, looking positively giddy. He pulled Kyoya aside and the two of them began speaking quietly, too quickly for you to pick anything up. They seemed to agree on something and purposefully made their way toward the assistant director.

“You wouldn’t happen to be the gallery director, would you?” Tamaki asked, in the tightly polite tone you always heard everywhere.

Beanpole straightened, obviously flattered. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Assistant, actually, but what can I help you with?”

Tamaki extended a hand. “My associates and I are here on behalf of the Ootori Group. We are looking into possible investment and sponsorship opportunities at this gallery and would appreciate a tour if you could give us one.”

“We apologize for the short notice,” Kyoya continued smoothly. “We’re aware the gallery will be closing soon. We can always return at a later time if that’s more convenient?”

“Oh no,” Beanpole said quickly, flapping his hands. “I can give you a tour. Please, follow me.” He was so excited, he didn’t seem to notice that he’d told you off earlier.

Practically tripping over his feet, Beanpole gestured the three of you through a restricted access door nearby, scanning his keycard to swing the door open. This would be the storage area where all artworks not currently displayed were kept under wraps. Tamaki went on ahead to engage Beanpole in meaningless prattle, giving you a chance to look around for your statue.

“Was that really the best you could come up with?” you asked Kyoya.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Kyoya pursed his lips in Beanpole’s direction. “Although, he’s even more airheaded than I originally thought. Someone acquainted with the Ootori Group would recognize me as one of the sons.”

Sons. Plural. “You have brothers?”

“Two elder brothers and an elder sister.”

“Aw, so you’re the baby.”

Kyoya raised an eyebrow. You shrugged. Not that Kyoya acted at all like a youngest child.

You had a vague idea of what the statue was supposed to look like, but you couldn’t find it anywhere among the shelves. It was lucky that Tamaki could talk like a wind-up toy because ten minutes later you still didn’t have the statue.

“It might be in the director’s office,” you said to Kyoya, falling into step beside him. “I can’t find it out here.”

Kyoya nodded, quickening his pace to catch up to Beanpole.

“This is all very interesting,” he said, curtly cutting Beanpole off. “However, these are all quite mundane pieces. Surely you have something more exclusive in your collection? Something more worthy of the Ootori Group’s time?”

“Maybe something in the director’s office?” Tamaki unsubtly suggested.

“There is something in there,” Beanpole began haltingly. “However, it’s on hold for a private collector. “

The private collector being your mother, of course. “We’d like to see it,” you said forcefully, catching onto Tamaki and Kyoya’s ruse by now. Beanpole led you to the office immediately.

Lo and behold, the stupid milkmaid statue was just sitting in the director’s office waiting for you. You were already lugging it out when Beanpole pointedly cleared his throat.

“I don’t mean to offend you, but the director and the gallery greatly value art and art history.”

“Yeah, so do I,” you huffed.

“What I mean to say is that we don’t take kindly to people taking advantage of our art pieces for monetary gain and a false love of art. Do you happen to know the exact piece that you’re taking out right now?”

You wouldn’t know a Picasso if it slapped you in the face, so no, you had no idea what the statue you were tugging on was. Tamaki was gracious enough to save you, however.

“I believe it’s a Souvingeur, sculpted sometime in the late eighteenth century.” He smiled knowingly. “A replica, though, of course. An original would be too heavy to transport. I believe all of the originals are still in France.” Tamaki reached out to swipe a finger over the statue’s cheekbone. “Not only that, the colours are a touch too bright. Souvingeur favoured pale, washed out paints for a more weathered look. His works were commonly displayed outside in gardens. He would often create nicks and imperfections in his work himself to further the illusion of age.”

Tamaki’s voice changed slightly whenever he said Souvingeur. He had a good accent. A great one, actually.

“Do you know who this milkmaid was modelled after?” Tamaki asked Beanpole, turning the tables. Beanpole blinked rapidly.

“Er, his mother, if I remember correctly.”

A touch of sadness entered Tamaki’s gaze. “Most people tend to think so. Although the statue bears more of a resemblance to his childhood friend, whom he was quite fond of. Some even posit that they used to be lovers, although that might be more wistful thinking.”

For a beat, everyone just stared at Tamaki. He looked around, a flush rising up his cheeks.

“Of course, that’s just what I read,” he said quickly.

“No, that was lovely. I’ll make note of that,” Beanpole said, smiling. He helped you lift up the statue, then went to shake Tamaki’s and Kyoya’s hands. “It was great to have you. I hope the Ootori group will be in touch about that investment opportunity.”

“Certainly,” Kyoya said.

And that was all it took. You were outside with the statue a minute later.

Tamaki still looked a little embarrassed about his statue rant. You found that you didn’t mind it. It was somehow extremely fitting for him.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said, talking awkwardly around the statue. “I appreciate the help.”

“It was nothing,” Kyoya said. “Consider it a part of your treatment.”

You were briefly at a loss until you remembered. “You mean my ‘heartbreak’ treatment? It’s not even club hours.”

“We’re opting for a more—”

Kyoya didn’t get the chance to finish. Footsteps rushed towards you and you nearly dropped the statue at the sight of a bunch of uniformed security guards running straight at you.

“What the—” Kyoya and Tamaki yanked on your arms. You stumbled along behind them, heart in your throat.

“Do they think I stole this?” you spluttered, trying to get a better grip on the milkmaid statue.

“Most likely,” Kyoya answered.

“But I didn’t! How many times do I have to tell them that my mom told me to get it?!”

“You should’ve explained that beforehand,” Tamaki said, swiping his hair from his eyes. “Kyoya, where’s your car?”

“I don’t need a car, my chauffeur—”

“No time! We won’t be able to heal any broken hearts if you’re behind bars!”

You risked a look over your shoulder and cringed. You couldn’t have looked guiltier if you’d tried. Tamaki and Kyoya pulled you into a nondescript black car and you barely managed to get your ass in behind the statue before Kyoya was peeling out of the parking lot like a maniac. You slammed your head into the driver’s seat and fell back with a groan. You only just remembered to jam your seatbelt into place.

“To Y/N’s house!” Tamaki shouted.

“How do you know where my house is?”

“We should, considering we’re late for your parent’s art gathering.”

You bolted upright, then choked as the seatbelt protested. “How do you know about that?!”

“Honey. And Haruhi, this time.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember inviting either of you!”

“It’s the least you can do after we got the statue for you,” Kyoya said calmly. With the way he was weaving through cars, this couldn’t have been his first time running away from something.

“I didn’t need your help. You did that on your own.”

“We’ll be nothing but courteous to your parents,” Tamaki assured you. “We have experience entertaining parents and guardians at Ouran.”

“My parents are the last people I want you to meet.”

“I have a spare tie if you want to put it on before the party,” Kyoya said. You scowled so hard at him your face hurt. It was bad enough dealing with these two at Ouran. Now you had to suffer their presence at your own home too?

To your extreme annoyance, Kyoya pulled into your front drive as though he’d been here a dozen times before. Tamaki rushed out to open your door for you but not before you opened it yourself and nearly broke his nose. You got out and aggressively pulled out the statue with you.

“Careful, you’ll chip it,” Kyoya said. He just managed to dodge when you swung it in his face.

As you stomped up to your front door, you heard Honey call all of your names in relief. You looked around the statue to greet him, then paused at the sight of two identical slate-grey blazers.

“Who invited you?” you barked.

“We invited ourselves,” one of the twins sniffed.

“Someone had to brighten up your boring art gathering,” the other one said.

“Because this couldn’t get any better,” you muttered. “Hold this.” You shoved the statue at Mori, unlocked your door, then went back to grab it without inviting anyone inside. You paused, half-hoping all of the hosts would just leave, then growled when you heard them all enter the front door.

It was going to be a long night.

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#ohshc #ohshc x reader #ouran high school host club #gender neutral reader #disceohshc

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hyunnieshannie · 1 year

Text

Love Untold |HHJ

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x AFAB Reader

WC: 4.3k

Warnings: slow burn, cursing, smut, fluff, unprotected sex

The images before him were beautiful, and deep. The emotion conveyed in the simple snap of a camera that was displayed in-front of him was nothing less than a masterpiece. For most a photograph is simply that. A still moment in frame captured at the right second. But he could see what the artist was trying to convey. He could see the hurt, the longing, and the desperation. The way the artist expressed themselves spoke to him on many levels, he wished to one day meet the mysterious photographer that only signed off a small Hourglass.

Most people assumed the hourglass was only a signature but Hyunjin had noticed something smaller going on within it. A very small detail most would and have missed. With the first photo the artist had released, the hour glass was full; and as each new series came out which would slowly drain. Painfully slowly. He wanted to know what it meant, it intrigued him just as much as the photographs themselves. And every time he stared into the images the artist would put up, he was Inspired to paint just as much.

On his walk home from the gallery, Hyunjin had noticed a shop he hadn’t seen before. A banner with the words ‘Grand Opening’ hung proudly above it. Upon further inspection he realised it was a quaint little flower shop, the aromas of the flowers drawing him in. The colours jumped at him as he looked through the window. Dancing into his world, as if he was being pulled into the store by the cool pastels of the orchids, and warm rich reds of the roses that lay far inside, he found his way in admiring the wide array of seasonal flowers.

“Good afternoon! Welcome to Seasons Favourites, is there anything I can help you find?” Hyunjin was much too entranced by the gorgeous selection of spring flowers to fully look up, only excusing himself to look around. He picked up a few of the roses, with full intention of hanging them to dry, using them as inspiration to paint. Taking them to the cash, where the attendant who had spoken to him stood silently smiling.

“For your girlfriend?” She beamed, as his face burnt up,

“Oh- n-no. I don’t have a- no. I just. Wanted to paint them .” He stuttered, he was caught off guard from the question; he took no offence to it though, it was a fair question. It truly would seem like they would be for someone special, but truly he hadn’t thought of that for a long time. Life wasn’t always too kind to him in the regards of love, after too many broken hearts; and too little time to allow it to mend. He hadn’t completely given up on love, no- it was more that he had found happiness in his art, and photography much more than he had ever found in another person.

“Oh- I’m sorry!” She giggled, “Painting sounds fun!” She said lightly as she wrapped the flowers delicately, in newspaper and brown paper. “Sorry we don’t use plastic here!” She smiles softly as she hands him the bouquet, he smiles back at her. “Painting flowers is a delicate art,”

“Do you paint?”

“Oh. No. I can’t draw or anything at all, I’m really no good.”

“You don’t have to be good to enjoy it!” He laughs,

“Are you good?”

“I’m not sure, but I enjoy it.” She stared back at him seemingly interested in what he had just said,

“Show me one day?” She smiled,

“Maybe.”

~✿~

After that day, Hyunjin began to visit the flower shop every day. A month had passed since then, and he had become quite close with who he now knew as the shop owner. “Y/N!” He yelled as he walked into the shop, coffee in hand. The sweet aroma of chrysanthemums immediately took over his senses, as he walked through the store. Only to find you sitting behind the cash register happily cutting away at the stems of roses.

“Jinnie!” You yelled back, smiling at seeing him walk in. “I thought you had a thing to go to?”

“I came to see if you wanted to join me at the gallery today,” you gave him a knowing look, one that always told him the answer would be an immediate no. “I know- I know I asked you yesterday but I just I really want you to see them” he whined as he placed your coffee in front of you,

“Jinnie I really shouldn’t leave the store unattended,” you sighed, but he poked at you more.

“Y/N please. This is probably it, the hour glass is going to run out probably by the next series and I still haven’t figured it out!” His pout is absolutely devastating. You know you shouldn’t go to the gallery with him, not that you wouldn’t enjoy your time with him; but the gallery itself was a place you tried your best to stay out of for personal reasons.

“I still have no clue what that means-”

“Exactly why you need to come and see them with me! Please.” He pouted, giving you large puppy dog eyes, you let out a loud sigh before rolling your eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re cute Hyune.” Excitedly he hops up and down as he watches you take the cash from the register to the back. Following closely behind you as he talks about how excited he is for you to be joining him. How he would show you each of his favourite pieces, and explain to you exactly what he thought they each meant.

~✿~

The walk to the art gallery wasn’t so bad, Hyunjin still talking away about the photographer he liked so much. You found it charming how in love with the photographer he was. Walking through the halls of the gallery, he pointed out how each photo was something deeper than it seemed. You gave him a few confused looks as he explained why the photo of a lone tree in a park full of people, represented internal loneliness, even when the person in question would be around others. He explained why the tree was the representation of the photographer, how it shows even though alone, and the feeling of loneliness presents itself within the photograph; that if someone were to approach it, they’d be met with a breath of fresh air. Someone real, grounded, with roots deep within the city. Yet open minded, and beautiful.

He spent a good hour explaining the pieces, until he found his favourite one. “Honestly, I still can’t tell what this one means.” he sighs, “At first, I thought maybe it was another representation of a never ending problem.” He studied the photograph more. The greyscale photo of a long hallway, which seemingly went on forever; with doors lining the walls. “Or maybe they didn’t know which door to pick.” What he seemed to miss in the photo was the dark suitcase, laying open with a few objects scattered around it and shards of glass scattered throughout the floor.

“I think they feel like they disappeared,” you say, as you stare deeply into the photograph. “The suitcase had been packed, and left sprawled open in the middle of a never ending hallway messily.” you point out the areas around it, keys on the floor, a shirt, pants, and shoes lay in one spot near the suitcase, but the rest of the clothes from within it were thrown about in the opposite direction, “see how those clothes are a mess, and those ones are like someone had been wearing them but it’s as if they disappeared into thin air, dropping their suitcase.”

“But why the hallway?” he questioned, his eyes ran over the photograph. He couldn’t figure it out at all,

“Well maybe instead of choosing a door, they walked out of one. Closing the doors they no longer needed, and disappearing from that never ending cycle of opening doors that lead to nowhere.” You look up at him, he’s staring down at you absolutely entranced in your theory, “Maybe that's why the hallway never ends, they felt as if staying in this spot, opening these doors would lead them to nowhere right? It would never end, maybe they wanted to choose a different path, even with so many options, maybe they felt they would never make the right one.”

“Okay, now why the broken glass then?”

“Maybe the glass is what represents them, even though they are missing the broken pieces of them still reside within that hallway.” you smile up at him, as his eyes search your face for some sort of answer.

“You’re a genius Y/N, you know that?”

“Not at all Jinnie, not at all.” You sigh, still staring deeply into the photo.

~✿~

A week had passed since he had taken you to the gallery. Hyunjin had continued his routine of visiting the shop and bringing you coffee, everyday before and after work. Soon enough he’d receive a notification that his favourite photographer would be releasing their last series. ‘The end of an era’ is what they had called it. Hyunjin wondered what it could mean, would the mostly grayscale images come to an end and be replaced by more colourful ones? Would they stop taking photos all together? What was the era they planned to end? He wanted- no- needed to be there for the unveiling of the new piece, and he absolutely needed you to be there with him; to help him figure out the last piece of his puzzle. The hourglass.

“Come on Jinnie, let me take a photo of you, to promote the shop!” You pouted up at him as he stared into his phone, reading the notifications he’d been getting from the gallery newsletter. He agreed reluctantly as he grabbed the bouquet of delicately put together roses, and smiled as the camera shuttered.

“Let me see it” he says, as he hops up onto the counter; and casually sips his coffee.

“It’s film, Jinnie. I’ll show it to you once it’s processed okay?” He had seen a camera in the flower shop once, but now that he was getting a better look at the one you held he noticed it wasn’t the same as the one he had previously seen.

“When did you get that?” He asked,

“Oh- after the exhibition. They really inspired me ya know?” he smiles at the comment, he glad he was able to inspire you into trying film. And he was glad to be a subject for your photography. Even if it was, just for the shop.

A week later, he rushed down to the shop running in at full speed. Panting to catch his breath and you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Jinnie?? What's wrong?” You asked as he stuttered his words “Breathe Jinnie! What’s going on? Are you okay!?”

“IT'S IT- THE NEWEST COLLECTION- I TOLD YOU ABOUT IT LAST WEEK!” he yells out, “THEY JUST RELEASED A STATEMENT, LOOK AT THIS ARTICLE” he slid his phone over to you carefully, which you took. Carefully skimming over it.

“So the photographer is supposed to show up?” You ask,

“YES” he jumps up, cute as ever. “THIS WILL BE THE FIRST TIME ANYONE HAS SEEN THEM. Y/N WE HAVE TO GO!” He truly seemed like a child who’d just gotten the exact toy they wanted for christmas.

“Sure,” you smile, you’d already known he’d bother you to go with him. Who were you to say no to him, who was so excited for this?

“Wait- Really?” He stops his jumping, looking at you confused; of course he’d expected you to say no, but there you were. Looking at him so sickeningly sweet, as you nodded a small yes “Okay! I’ll pick you up at seven yeah? ”

“Sounds good Jinnie. Now get to work before Minho scolds you again.” He hugs you, kissing the top of your head lightly before running off waving goodbye.

“I’m so excited Y/N, you wont regret coming with me I promise! It will be such a night to remember!” He giggled, before finally exiting the shop.

~✿~

Hyunjin asked a million questions as he walked with a spring in his step, “what do you think they’re like?”, “do you think I’ll get a chance to talk to them?”, “I have so many questions for them” you smiled as you listened to him, going on and on about his mystery photographer.

He walked you through the gallery once more, stopping at each photo and admiring them.

You looked around the room, crowds filing in as they stared at the images in front of them.

“You don’t seem so interested” Hyunjin frowned, “is something wrong?”

“I was just thinking how incredible this is” you sigh as you look around the door, “so many people are here- honestly I didn’t expect this many people.”

“Well yes they’re really well known and now they’ll finally get a chance to see the photographer, it’s really going to be memorable”

“I hope so.” You whisper under your breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Why don’t we head over for the unveiling? It should start soon.” He nods as he takes your hand walking towards the small platform stage they had created for the unveiling of the centrepiece, the photograph that would highlight the rest of the collection. Hyunjin was much too excited waiting for the moment he barely felt you release his hand, and definitely failed to notice you walk away. Weaving through the people who made their way to the watch the reveal of the newest photo. The center of the collection.

It only took a minute for him to realise you had gone missing, Hyunjin stood there looking around wondering where you’d run off to, he wanted to find you as quickly as possible but the crowd had gotten too large for him to squeeze between anyone to run to find you. The lights dimmed and a spotlight softly shone on the covered frame. A man dressed in a tux quickly shuffled onto the stage.

“We would like to thank everyone for coming this evening. What a wonderful event this has turned out to be,” he said loudly, “On behalf of the artist. I will offer their sincerest apologies, as they had something personal come up and will not be able to unveil the work themselves. Though they had been here for a while, and were pleased with the turn out tonight.” the man smiled widely at the crowd, “You all for sure witnessed the artist, just as much as they witnessed you tonight!” he chuckled, “Now, I will unveil the latest addition to the collection, the title of this piece is Love Untold,. Dedicated to someone very dear to them. This piece had been an inspiration piece for our dear artist, this piece would be the start of their new series, The Beginning of the Eend, as you all know tonight's exhibition is called The End of an Era, representing the artists ending to the hourglass series, a series of photos that represented mental health in today’s society. The artist would like to share that The Beginning of the End, would bring about a new era, an era in which they felt may resonate with some of you deeply.” As he finished his sentence he reached up lightly holding a veil that covered the large print image, “Without further ado, I present to you all, Love Untold.” He quickly, yet carefully pulled the veil from the image, and Hyunjins heart stopped as he stared up at the photo.

The meaning, the artistry. The signature hourglass, now replaced with what looked like a heartbeat, a small detail in the corner of the canvass. Everything spoke to him loudly. He knew what it meant instantly, and turned quickly on his heels running out of the exhibit. Rushing to his apartment as fast as his legs could possibly take him. Running into his room as he grabbed his canvas straight off the easel and rushing down the street to your apartment.

He knocked and waited yet there was no answer, where could you have gone? Where would you be? Why would you leave him?

And then it hits. He races out of the apartment building, running across the street to the flower shop where the lights were brightly shining through the windows. The door left unlocked as he raced inside. There you stood happily, calmly cutting the stems of some roses to keep them fresh.

“Everyday. I have come to this shop. Every day I have spoken to you, learned what made you tick, every. Day. Y/N. Every single day you gave me more and more of a reason to love you and yet tonight you somehow managed to make me fall so much deeper in love with you” he said, you looked at him as he walked closely up to you, “here I was thinking I’d get the chance to tell you. But you beat me to it.” He sighed as he handed you the canvas. You flip it over. “When I saw the photo of me you took. Being unveiled... Y/N…. Why did you leave?”

“Because a confession is scary, Jinnie, especially one so public” you sigh, staring deeply into the painting. It was an oil painting, it was mostly done in black and white oil paints, but the thing that stood out most was the red that popped out highlighting the roses you held close to your chest. Smiling widely as you look at something just out of view. “I suppose I had nothing to worry about.” You smile.

He rushes to you, holding your head between his hands and crashing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. “I’m in love with you, y/n.” He says between kisses. “Please don’t run away from me again,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. You take in his words, feeling like the vines wrapped around your heart were finally loosening, your heart race increasing the longer he held you and kissed you.

“Lock the door,” you whisper to him.

“Huh?”

“The shop door. It’s open, lock it. We’re closing for the rest of the day.” Hyunjins eyes lighten and a smirk plays on his lips. He turns quickly and runs to the door, locking it and turning the sign over to CLOSED. He sprints back to you and grabs your legs, lifting you easily, connecting his lips back to yours in hungry kisses, and he walks back towards the prep counter in the back of the store. More privacy. He sits you down on the counter and deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a fiery tango. His hands are roaming your body, tracing every dip and curve of your shape.

“I need to see you, I gotta take these off. Is- is that ok?” he says shyly, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt and pants. You let out a breathy yes and that was all he needed to rip the shirt off over your head tossing it to the floor behind him. He quickly fumbles with the button of your jeans, and then pauses. He takes in a deep breath and continues but slower this time. He unzips your jeans and helps you shuffle out of them, taking the garment and tossing them to the floor. He takes a step back away from you to admire your mostly naked figure in front of him. “I wanna paint you just like this, so picture perfect.”

“I- I wanna see you t-too, Jinnie,” you whisper, unable to fully meet his eyes.

He smirks at you and quickly pulls his shirt over his head and just as quickly undoes his pants dropping them to the floor. Your eyes glaze over his body, his wide shoulders, his chest, his stomach, the tent in his boxers. He chuckles as he sees your blush deepen across your cheeks. “You made me like this, y/n.” He stalks back over to you and takes your hand placing it over his length, tilting his head back slightly at the pressure.

“I need you to tell me if you want me to slow down. You know the stoplight, right?” You nod quickly. “Good girl, if you want me to stop, what colour do you give me?”

“R-red,” you say softly

“And if you want me to continue?”

“Green”

“Very good, very, very good, my sweet flower,” he groans in your ear, pulling you by your hips to the edge of the counter, his clothed cock rubbing against your clothed heat. He ruts his hips into yours frantically. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me.”

He pulls at your panties, yanking them down your legs. He locks his eyes on your heat, immediately dropping to his knees and licking a long stripe up your folds. You let out a high whine and your hands find purchase in his hair, pulling his strands tightly.

“F-fuck Jinnie,”

He groans as he begins to lick and suck on your cunt. You squeeze your legs together at the feeling and he slaps your thigh, pushing your legs back with his hands. He brings a hand to your dripping cunt, and rubs it up and down your folds, teasing your clit with his tongue. After successfully lubing his fingers up with your wetness he unceremoniously shoves his fingers inside you, quickly pumping in and out, sucking harshly on your clit.

“Hyune!” you scream at the pace, pulling his head closer to you, chasing the pleasure he’s giving you. He hums as he sucks and mouths at your clit, the vibrations adding to your impending orgasm. He curls his fingers and hits the spot that makes you see stars. You clench around his fingers and you can feel the smirk on his lips. He continues pumping into you, his tongue never letting up in lapping at your juices. Your breathing is getting heavier and your moans increasing in pitch as you approach your high. He adds a third finger and the stretch tips you over the edge, cumming on his fingers with his name on your lips. He doesn’t stop pumping his fingers in you or lapping at your folds until beg him to stop.

“So good my little flower,” he whispers as he brings his fingers to his lips and sucks your juice from each one. “Colour?”

“G-green, Jinnie, green.”

He loops his fingers between the waistband of his boxers and steps out of them, placing himself between your still spread legs. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds. He looks at you through his brows and holds his hand up under your chin.

“Spit,”

You look at him confused.

“I said, spit,” he says, his tone slightly menacing.

You do as he says and spit into his hand, a smile gracing his face as you do so. He takes his hand and spits into it as well and runs the mixture of spit over his length. He lines himself up with your cunt and slides in, you clench down on his cock hard.

“Flower, I need you to relax,” he says through a hiss. You try to relax yourself but struggle a bit to focus on relaxing, your nerves getting the best of you. “My flower,” he whispers gently, tilting your head up by your chin to get you to look at him. His eyes were swimming with need and want. He brought his lips to yours in a searing kiss, your lips and tongues once again dancing together. He brought his hands to your breasts and squeezed the soft flesh. At the distraction of his hands on you, he slides his cock deeper inside you, bottoming out.

“So tight, flower,” he whispers as he rocks his hips into you slowly, letting you get used to him. You wrap your arms around him, your nails scratching into his back.

“Green, Jinnie, go faster, p-please,”

“Good girl, asking so nicely,” he rasps, he wraps a hand around your leg and lifts it around his waist and harshly thrusts his hips into yours at a brutal pace. Skin slapping against skin was the only thing that could be heard throughout the flower shop. That and the sweet praises falling from Hyunjin’s lips.

“Such a good flower,” “Taking me so well,” “Keep moaning my name like that,” “Fuck, you don’t understand what you do to me.”

His hips are relentless, bruising your hips with his, burying his head in your neck and sucking your skin between his teeth, blooming flowers across it. You could feel the vines tightening in your gut.

“Jinnie, I’m-I’m gonna,” you try to get out between breathless moans.

“Wait for me to say so, flower, we’re gonna come together,” he tightens his grip on your leg, his hips quickening and getting sloppier. He looks up at your face, completely fucked out, sweat beading on your forehead, your eyes glazed over, tears brimming in your eyes from holding off your orgasm for him. He brings his hand from your leg to your chin, holding it roughly and crashing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. “Doing so well, flower, you can cum now.”

At his permission you cum hard, your hands around his shoulders tightening, your nails digging harder into his skin. You wrap your legs around him and pull him as close as you can to you. You feel his hips stutter, a groan ripping from his chest as he spills inside of you.

It takes you several minutes to collect yourselves. Your breathing is still rough and ragged. He pulls away from you slightly to look at you. He pushes a few strands of hair away from your face, wipes a few fallen tears from your cheeks, and places light kisses to your forehead, nose, and lips.

“I love you, flower.”

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00bamc · 1 year

Text

magnificently cursed

summary: lost lovers reunited. you love him, he loves you but your hand has been promised to another.

“Oh, goddamn! my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand, taking mine but it's been promised to another. Oh, I can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland. My house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I'm covered in you.”

pairing: benedict bridgerton x reader

series masterlist

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You were ill of pretenses.

“You should smile more.”

And you were sick of James Brooke's sanctimonious behavior.

“Perhaps, you should keep your unwanted judgment to yourself.”

You saw the glint of amusement in his forest eyes at the malice in your tone. The grip of his fingers on your waist tightens as he spins you around, the luxurious collar diamond around your neck sparkling under the warm undertones of the candlelight - an embodiment of Lord Brook's filial loyalty. The warmth of his broad chest against your back feels suffocating, like a hand gripping your throat, impeding you from freely breathing.

“Smile,” his hot breath tickles your neck, and with every ticking beat the urge to get out of his grip and run away becomes more wanton, regardless, the urgency in his tone keeps you in place. The corner of your lips raises in a practiced charming smile, eyes glinting with false happiness. Somehow there is a sort of trust and loyalty between you.

Two halves of the same farce.

A perfect scheme orchestrated for the woman with the penetrating stare standing in one corner of the grand ballroom.

Lady Laurence has always been a woman of strong character, a widower who gained her reputation and wealth with blood, tears, and sweat.

A childless woman who put all her hopes on you.

Her gaze doesn't waver for you, even when she takes her time to bow to Lady Cowper and other irritating ladies of the Ton - a complete sense of ridiculousness in her behavior. A genuine chuckle escapes your lips. Of course, would Lady Laurence relish in the begrudged stares in a proud stance of chin raised, frail shoulders leaned back, and a pleasing yet mocking smile curving in her thin lips.

A clear portrait of victory.

“Isn't Lady Laurence a force to be reckoned with?” James' deep voice takes you out of your observations, and at the compass of the waltz, you turn around, faces close to each other.

You have to admit that your betrothed is a sight to behold. Underneath the golden shower of the candelabrum, he resembles all the Greek sculptures you are always fascinated to admire in the art galleries around Europe. Your gaze follows with artistic fascination the cupid bow of his slightly chapped lips, the freckles on his tall nose because of all the hunting trips in the countryside, and the strand of rich blond hair falling carelessly on his forehead.

He looks so much like the child who used to chase you around your countryside house backyard. A dear friend. A brother chose beyond blood. A victim of your Machiavellian plans.

“A woman to be afraid of.”

He laughs, yet, an unspoken sadness resides heavenly in his eyes. As if the mere sight of your aunt's watchful stance reminds him of the truth and the unpaid debts of the past - about the tormented heart of the beautiful and elegant woman watching in some place of the ballroom.

Hands fidgeting. Longing gazes.

Two hearts broken. Two hands bloody.

You wish to tell him all your regrets and apologies. You hope that he can see it in the trembling of your hands, the shame you hide in the bow of your head at the end of the dance, and the avoidance of her gaze. The woman he calls out in dreams, the one that has been banished in the eyes of his family. The daughter of a merchant, who is not enough for a man of his position. His true love.

Selfish girl. The voice of your wickedness whispers, but are you that selfish when love is the root of your decisions?

Immediately, you search for the figure of the object of all your affections. Your mother's-tired smile sends a pang of hurt to your heart as she dismisses the help of Penelope's Featherington to serve her a glass of fresh lemonade sitting on the refreshment table. You let go of James' arm, rushing to her side while sending a grateful smile to Penelope. The girl returns it without a single word, and you are more than thankful for her lack of mention of the faltering strength of your mother to do a simple task.

“Mama, let me help you with this.” You say while taking the glass off her hands. Her only response is a gentle touch on your back. Motherly and soothing.

“Mr. Bridgerton has been watching you all night.”

You halt your movements abruptly, a bit of the lemonade spilling on the table, leaving a faint stain on the elegant tablecloth. Still, you chose to remain silent, convincing yourself that the knot in your throat at the mention of him is not the reason.

You extend the glass, and she takes it with fragile and trembling fingers.

For a brief moment, you tell yourself that you don't care if Mr. Bridgerton has been gazing at you all night, that it doesn't matter how the image of his cerulean eyes burns in your mind, how much you long for his touch, and how a single glimpse of him again could set your miserable heart in flames.

There is no more room for foolish dreams and aspirations, or dirtied dresses and paint-stained hands. There is no acceptance for sneaking around in places a lady like yourself never must dare to go, and Aunt Carol pleading your case for you to be in a place where a woman is not meant to be.

No more being an impostor. No more being a failure. No more him.

The fire inside you extinguished at the realization of your mediocrity—the reason for all your endurance in this pretense of shy smiles and lovesick gazes.

As you take a deep breath, you realize that you have been fidgeting all this time with the ring placed on your hand, your fingertips tracing the shape of the jewelry while a bittersweet smile curves on your lips. You remember seeing it in much stronger and larger hands. Rough palms covered in charcoal. Long fingers holding a brush in between them.

You do this for him.

“You know, my dear, Mr. Bridgerton always reminds me of him,” your mother's face melts with love at the thought of your father like it always does when she thinks of him. The memories feel like weapons because, after all these years, the tomb would not close, and the pain is still the same.

His ghost still haunts you to this day. You wonder which is more painful.

“Mama-”

“He is watching you now, dear.”

It takes all the bravery in your bones to raise your gaze. Blue eyes meet yours and for a brief stolen moment, time halts. The chattering and the string quartet playing are replaced by the sound of your own frantic beating heart.

You are foolish. All these months of lying to yourself about that magical summer night, just for the mere sight of him to take all your breath away. In his eyes, you still see the ghost of his desire, the same dark spark full of passion that you saw that warm night in June. It brings all back to motion. The lingers of his touch on your skin, the burning pleasure that consumed you from the insides, and the intoxicating taste of his mouth that keeps you awake on the loneliest nights. So sinful, so vibrant, so sweet.

He has ruined you, is the bitter realization you come to. He has ruined you from other men.

Eloise at his side, dressed in a signature blue sparkly gown, touches his arm, yet, his magnetizing eyes don't waver from you. Does he see it? How his ivy has covered all your stoned heart, covering you.

“Miss Laurence,” you feel the familiar touch of rough fingers on the naked skin of your elbow. You raised your head encountering James's pitiful eyes. His touch is meant to be comforting and tender as if he was trying to pick up a wounded animal, but it only crescents the pressure in your chest. Has breathing always been a difficult task?

He is here with you, but his eyes are not the ones you want to gaze at on your loneliest nights.

“Benedict!”

You heard it before you saw it. The collective gasp of the mama and her daughters. The high pitching of Eloise's voice, the crack of glass, and the soft call of your name coming from your mother's tinted lips. You see the desperation and fury in his gaze. The shredded glass on his feet and the gold ricochet of the champagne mixing with the maroon liquid staining his hands.

How poetical.

Four hearts were broken. Four hands bloody.

He takes a menacing step toward you. A forbidden question in his eyes.

“Excuse me for a second, Lord Brooke,” you know it's time to go, “Mama.”

You don't wait for the answer. Doe eyes and a sweet smile are enough armor for you to flee from the scene in a desperate attempt to bury the past - silhouette disappears behind the open doors leading to Lady Danbury's Garden.

The night sky's dull black, accompanied by the coldness of the air on your flushed skin brings a false sense of peace that you haven't felt in months. You relished in the feeling, even when the murmurs and vivid music coming from inside the ballroom, sounds like a mocking requiem of your misery.

You close your eyes for a moment.

But you should have known better.

Whatever you stray, he follows.

“I knew I will find you here.”

You stay rotten to your spot, helplessly hearing the sound of his footsteps coming closer, the warmth of his body near you followed by the touch of callous fingers, bringing forth a tarnished incandescent glow. “Do you despise me so much that you refuse to see me?”

With words pathetically stuck in your throat, and weak sudden courage running in your veins, you turn towards him. “Mr. Bridgerton,” you acknowledge with a curtsy bow, hands shaking at your sides. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

Slowly, you raise your fearful eyes to look him in the eye, feeling a sudden shyness engulfing you.

He is a sight for sore eyes. You decide at that moment as you watch how the strands of chestnut hair fall over his forehead as the wind blows and how his opal eyes seem so vibrant under the moonlight, that Benedict Bridgerton has the air of a true muse. A man incapable of being forgotten. A lover whose memory will always haunt the women who have spent the night in his arms.

“You did not answer my question. Do you despise me so much that you refuse to see me?”

It is almost natural the course of your actions. The soft cloth of your handkerchief goes directly to the open wound in his large palm, crimson red staining the initials of your family's name embroidered in golden thread. The silence is excruciating, but what answer can you give him? So you decide to remain silent, enjoying the glimpse of the unrequited love you gave away.

Benedict's hands are cold against yours. Elegant fingers gripping the ones with the silver gentleman's ring.

“Is this his ring?” The darkness in his tone sends a cold shiver down your spine. “I thought you were going to refuse his hand,” He breathes out, hands abruptly letting go of yours. “That night you told me you were going to refuse his hand, and tonight I found you giving him the privilege of your company. What is the meaning of this?”

You let out a shaky breath, “I changed my mind, my lord.'' The words leave behind a bitter taste. You want to scream how he took the vanity of you and your foolish dreams about his love. “I decided to reconsider, and decided to do the best for my family and me.”

“The best for your family? Marrying him is the best for you?”

The disdain in his voice makes your blood boil.

“I think that is not of your concern.”

He recoils at the aggression in your voice.

“Not of my concern? Do you think it is not of my concern after that night?”

The air around you change for a second. The crescendo when souls intertwine and hearts connect in a way meant to never be separated again lingers in your memories. If he remembers it all too well, why didn't he act when there was time?

You cannot hide the resentment in your answer. “My lips have been shut, Mr. Bridgerton. You don't have to worry about your family's honor and reputation being ruined.”

“And what about you? Your honor? Your value?”

“Soon, I will be a married woman, and I assure you, my lord, my husband will not care about the meaningless whispers.”

You wait for the morbid satisfaction that the fallen expression on his beautiful face would bring.

It never comes.

“So, you would go through this?” the bend of your head and cryptic silence is enough to answer. An expression of incredulity passes through his face before he lets out a deep sardonic laugh. “And what about your art? You cannot simply abandon all your aspirations for this nonsense.”

You raise your head, taking a turn to look perplexed. Something you later will identify as disappointment touches your heart.

“I told you already, My Lord. The big masterpiece will never come.”

“So, this is what you are going to do? Marry that man for his wealth.” there is venom in his tone that feels foreign on his tongue. The burn-in of his opal eyes and the twist of his beautiful factions in a scowl leaves you speechless for a second. “I never thought you would be so frivolous, and cold-hearted.”

You see red.

“You have no right to judge my choices!”

You tell yourself that not a single tear should fall in front of him.

“I am speaking for what I see, Miss Laurence.”

“You speak from your selfishness.”

“My selfishness?” True confusion shines in his eyes.

Of course, a man like him could never understand.

“Yes. You cannot possibly understand what is for me and what is expected.” Your lips tremble as you speak, and you can hear it again.

An invisible clock ticking in your ear. The sound of the sand quickly hitting on the other side of the glass.

“You are making yourself a martyr. You know damn well, as I do, that you are one of the more talented artists I have the pleasure of meeting, so I don't -”

“Talent is not genius, Benedict.” the boom of your voice silences him. The call of his first name appeased the unjust fury burning in his gaze. “I have talent but it is not enough. I want-” you swallow down the knot in your throat, “I need to be great or nothing. I am not going to be an impostor and a mediocre if I could not be the great artist I always wanted to be. I won't do it.”

The resignation and despair in your voice are unable to hide. And you don't want to, because of all the people, you always thought that the kind man with a soul of an artist would be the one to be able to just comprehend.

Benedict doesn't say anything. His eyes are fixed on every inch of your face.

“I am a woman. I don't have the same liberties as you. I don't have the free will to go around and try to take chances if I am not good enough.” The laughter and mocking stares still follow you every time you dare to stand in front of a canvas. “And I just realized that I simply wasn't.” You think back to a trashed art room full of childish dreams. “As a woman, I do not have a way to make my way in the art world, not when I am not the genius, I need to be for me to succeed, and even if I do, the money I could make would never be enough to support myself and my mother.”

Your mother's face flashes in your head. Her pale face, and fragile hands help you to style your hair for tonight's ball. Her false reassurance that she is okay, that you must have seen wrong about the way she barely tries to catch her breath when she walked the short length of the stairs. The weakness of her limbs, and how the simple task of raising a spoon to feed herself seems to exhaust her more and more each day that passes.

“As a woman, I am not allowed the luxury to choose. I need security. I need to look out for the people I love. So don't stand there judging my decision, and calling me cold-hearted when I am only trying to look for myself. Marriage might not be an economical proposition or a place of security for you but certainly is for me.”

You are not able to hold back anymore the sorrow of your soul, sapphire tears finally fall down your cheeks. Benedict's face softens, regrets soaping for his pores at your stance. He takes cautious steps, one hand reaching for your face as tender fingers brush away the salty river. Pathetically, you lean down your cheek against his palm.

“I deeply apologize. I have been cruel in my accusation. I know you are angry and have every reason to be.” You let out a shaky breath the gentleness of his tone. “But I would not retract about the supposed selfishness you accused me to possess. Where does it leave me in your plans? What about what I feel?

Your voice breaks and you whisper. “And what exactly do you feel, Benedict?”

His lips remain shut, even when his eyes reflect the hidden galaxy, he is so desperate to guard. Instead, his attention returns to the silver ring on your left hand.

The words fall from your lips carelessly, offering explanations he doesn't deserve. “This is my father's ring. He didn't have any son to inherit it. He gave it to me the night he passed away.”

A smile of sadness and comprehension draws on his face.

“Do you love him?”

“No, but I could do it if I try.”

Both of you know that is a lie.

“Don't marry him.” The grief is visible in his plea. “Don't submit the both of us to this torture, please.”

“Why?” You take a step back from him, backing away from his alluring scent.

“You know the reason why.”

With the condescending in his tone, you let out a bitter laugh. After all this time and all these feelings, he still cannot admit it.

“I have loved you for a very long time, Benedict Bridgerton. I assure you; you are an unforgettable man. But I would not throw away a secure future for me and my mother for a man who is unable to admit what he feels.”

You see the exact moment your words ignite a dangerous fire inside him, and soon the cold and lonely air of the night is replaced by the fervent heat of his lips. The ardent touch of his hands around your waist, gripping it as if you were his lifeline. You feel again the passion and desire buzzing in every part of your body. The urgency and all the unspoken promises claimed in a starry night where you gifted him your innocence with a heart full of tender love. Unarmed, you surrender to his touch, and just for a wicked moment, you melt between his arms. Hands grasping at his strong shoulders, inhaling his masculine scent, and enjoying the sweet taste of the champagne in his mouth.

For a short moment of loss of judgment, you found yourself praying to the sky for a chance to stay forever in this beautiful lavender haze.

Foolish dreams of a woman in love.

The gold rush is not enough.

You let go of him slowly and painfully, catching a glimpse of disheveled hair and swollen red lips.

He is beautiful under the moonlight.

Benedict notices your intentions, quickly gripping your hand before you slip away from him and towards a place he couldn't reach anymore.

“At least let me have a final dance with you.”

Your heart doesn't allow you to say no.

You will have one last dance with the man you love, even when both of your hands are tied.

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