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rhoorl · 2 months

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Turbulence | Part 4

Pairing: Frankie x reader (will turn into an OFC)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 Link

Word Count: 7k (sorry!)

Summary: The conclusion of this little arc. These two enjoy the rest of their weekend.

Warnings: MDNI. Alternating POVs. Some angst and some fluff. Nervous Frankie. Allusion to a previous bad relationship (infidelity). Swearing. Unprotected P in V. Oral (f receiving - duh, it’s Frankie).

A/N: Apologies for the delay! This ended up being a lot longer than I intended. I thought about breaking this up into two parts but I think it’s just better as one. This is my first time writing Frankie smut so I’m a bit nervous (although it's not the main focus of this chapter).

“Ok and if we can get one more with the whole bridal party!”

Bless the photographer and her assistant because wrangling this group is akin to herding cats.

“Your boy here yet?” Ash muttered through their smile as we all posed for a series of shots.

“Yup, just got a text,” I said, trying to conceal my smirk as Ash slapped me on the ass.

“Hell freaking yeaaaah!”

Once we finished with the photos, I walked up to Carol and hugged her. She told me to have fun and gave me a knowing look, confusion etched on Dave’s face. Truth be told, her reassurance made me feel better about slipping out.

I spotted Mom and Aunt Lydia already at the bar, so I told Ash to cover for me should they ask where I went.

“Have fun!” Ash winked as I grabbed my things and made my way out of the venue, trying to keep a steady pace when all I wanted to do was sprint out of there so I could see him.

Frankie didn’t quite know what he should do. Get out of the truck, walk up to the aquarium, and wait? Stay put in his truck? Seeing a couple of men dressed in suits smoking outside, he suddenly remembered how casually he was dressed and felt a bit self-conscious. It didn’t feel right to just sit in his truck scrolling on his phone waiting for her; it made him feel like he was just there with one thing in mind…although that was on his mind.

He took a deep breath and decided to get out of the truck, figuring he’d stand in front of it and lean onto the hood as he waited. It only took a few moments before he saw her walking out of the building with a bag in tow. His breath caught in his throat seeing her in person again.

“Hey,” she raised her hand for a small wave as she scurried across the parking lot toward him.

“Hey,” his hands twitched at his sides as he pushed himself off the truck. It only took a few steps to close the distance between them. When he reached out she slotted perfectly into his arms, just like she did at the airport. He breathed in her scent, feeling her arms tighten around his neck.

He pulled back, appreciating her beauty while trying to be respectful. He couldn’t help as his gaze quickly flitted down her body before finding her eyes which he loved so much. She twirled the ends of his curls between her fingers as he softly chuckled, “You…look beautiful. Way better than the picture.” She feigned offense and giggled as Frankie tried to recover. “Shit, I mean, the picture was nice…it was great…fuck…” he shook his head. “Can I start over?”

“I know what you meant Frankie, I’m just giving you a hard time,” her nose crinkled as her arms trailed down his shoulders, rubbing his biceps.

“Ha oh,” he blushed.

“So…BB-8 huh?” She pulled at the hem of his T-shirt.

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Another one of Pope’s ideas….so, you ready to head out? You sure you’re ok to leave, I don’t want some bridezilla coming after me.”

“No, Frankie, it’s all good. So…I believe we were between pizza and burgers right?”

“Yup…your choice.”

“Hmm,” he couldn’t help but notice how cute her nose looked scrunched up in thought. “I think pizza.”

“Perfect, I was kinda hoping you’d say that,” he winked. “You need to change or anything,” he motioned to her bag.

“Oh, nah…I paid a shit ton for this dress, I’m keeping it on as long as I can.”

Frankie coughed as his throat went dry. He knew she meant that innocently but his mind wandered and he could feel his face getting red.

“You ok, Frankie?”

“Um...y-yeah…all good. Here get in,” he walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for her.

I couldn’t get over how cute he looked…and hot…I can’t forget that part. Hugging him felt like I was being embraced by the coziest blanket and it took everything in me to let go.

By all accounts, Frankie was still a stranger to me and here I was getting into his truck and going who knows where. I’ve spent far too many hours listening to true crime podcasts to know all of the red flags dotting this situation. But with Frankie, I felt…safe. I really can’t describe it other than it’s just a feeling.

He said he had a place in mind but it was a bit of a drive. Honestly, he could have told me we were driving the few hours to Miami and I would have been fine with it. He was so easy to talk to and I loved watching him drive. My eyes tried to not linger on his hand gripping the steering wheel as I took note of how thick his fingers were.

He filled me in on his day which included a cast of characters that sounded like they were plucked out of a TV show. I loved hearing him laugh and the way his eyes crinkled as he talked about his friends was adorable. We were so engrossed in conversation that I hadn’t realized we were on the causeway until we were about halfway across the water.

“Are we going to Clearwater?” I looked over at him, a little sly smirk coming across his face.

“Yeah…shit, I didn’t even ask if it was ok to go this far. Sorry, I-”

“Frankie,” I reached over and put my hand on his arm, “it’s ok. I just hadn’t been paying attention to where we were,” I chuckled, my hand running down his forearm to rest on top of his hand on the center console. I quickly patted it, wincing internally at my awkwardness, and returned my hand to my lap.

We sat in comfortable silence as I stared out the window taking in the views. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Frankie bite his lip as he moved his right hand to hover over my leg. He hesitated for a moment and then rested his hand just above my knee. It felt like an electric current went through my body – not only was he touching me but his hand was close to my…

“Is this ok?” He turned his head giving me the most adorable puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “This is ok, Frankie,” I put my hand on top of his, rubbing circles with my thumb. He started to visibly relax and it made me feel warm.

We spent the rest of the way chatting about random things, his hand firmly planted on my leg. I could tell he was starting to feel more comfortable when his hand traveled up and down my thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. I wished I didn't have all of the fabric on because I yearned to feel his rough calloused hands on my skin.

There was this intriguing duality to him. On the one hand, I knew these hands could exact some level of violence. I’d be kidding myself if I didn’t realize that he’s probably severely hurt people before. But at the same time, there was a softness to his touch, like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. I felt a slight shiver as his fingers skimmed across the satin of my dress. As strong and capable as his hands were at piloting an aircraft I imagined they were equally capable of pulling countless pleasures too. The thought made me squirm a bit as I tried to steady my breath.

“You ok?” He turned his head to look at me.

“Y-yeah, I’m good,” I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Ok good, we’re almost there.”

Next thing I knew, we pulled up to some hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that he swore up and down was the best pizza on the West Coast of Florida. I caught some funny looks thanks to my floor-length gown from the guy behind the counter who I learned was the owner. He and Frankie knew each other so we jumped the line of to-go orders waiting to be made.

In no time at all Frankie scooped up a bag full of styrofoam containers along with a pizza box. We stopped off at a convenience store to grab a six-pack of beer…again my overly formal attire drew some heads from the casual locals and swimsuit-clad tourists.

Once we had everything, Frankie reassured me we were close to our ultimate destination but I was in no rush. When he finally backed into our parking spot, he looked over and stopped me as I started to unbuckle my seatbelt. “Can you stay here for a sec…please?”

I cocked my head to the side, curious what he was up to. “Sure…”

“Ok cool…don’t go eating the garlic knots yet,” he quipped. “And ah…close your eyes. I’ll be quick I promise.”

I smirked as I closed my eyes, straining to hear what he was up to. He opened the back door, some rustling as he found something before closing the door. The truck rocked a bit. Eventually, I heard the crunch of gravel underneath his boots as he opened my door.

“Ok, you can open your eyes.”

My eyes fluttered open as he reached for the food I was guarding in my lap. He offered his hand to help me get out of the truck.

“What do you have up your sleeve?” I raised my eyebrows.

He led me around the truck and I felt the butterflies start to flutter around in my stomach. There was a maroon and white plaid blanket laid across the bed of his truck. It was a bit tattered and looked like it had seen better days. At the back, there were two matching pillows.

“It’s not fancy, but I figured we could eat and watch the waves. The sunset is the best here.” He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, rocking a bit from side to side as he looked down at his feet.

My breath hitched as I took it all in. This was such a sweet gesture and I was honestly impressed by the thought.

“Is this ok? Sorry, if I had more time I would have…”

“This is perfect.”

He looked up at me with the sweetest smile and offered his hand for me to climb in.

“You looking for an excuse to check out my ass Frankie?” I smirked, noticing his blush as I hopped up, shuffling in and putting one of the pillows behind me as I rested against the back of the truck.

Frankie followed, crawling up to sit next to me. He grabbed a couple of bottles from the six-pack, twisting off the tops and handing one of them to me, “Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

“Sorry, it’s not cold..”

“Frankie, stop apologizing. This is…perfect. I just wanted to see you again, it didn’t matter what we were doing, so this is icing on the cake.

I could see the tension leaving his body as he made quick work of laying out all of the food. It was quite the spread and definitely too much for just the two of us. We chatted and grazed and things never felt awkward, even during those quiet moments. It also wasn’t lost on me that Frankie had drifted closer and closer to me. His outstretched leg now pressed up against mine, I could feel the heat radiating between us and all I wanted to do was curl up next to him.

As the sun set, I felt a wave of melancholy wash over me. It suddenly hit me how finite time was this weekend. The sun chasing the horizon was a visual of the hourglass in my mind counting down the hours I had left in this dream.

“Hey, you alright?” Frankie reached for my hand as he turned to face me.

I nodded, managing a weak smile.

Frankie felt like he was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, he wanted to spend more time with her and see where this night was headed. But at the same time, he wanted time to stand still because the more hours they spent together the closer they were to her inevitable departure.

It felt like a cruel joke. The moment he starts to feel…something…anything…and it’s a situation with logistics. Distance hadn’t worked well for him in the past seeing as how his ex’s cheating started while he was away on a mission.

For so long he blamed distance for the demise of their relationship. In hindsight, he knew there were more issues than just the time apart, but it still was a reason. If he had a job that didn’t force him to be gone for months at a time on covert, highly classified missions maybe things would have been different. If he had picked a line of work that didn’t give him nightmares and so much anxiety that he had to resort to increasingly dangerous ways to silence the voices maybe things would have been different. If he wasn’t so fucked up every time he was home he would have seen the warning signs long before…

Frankie had been so caught up in his own spiral that he hadn’t noticed her energy shift. She too looked deep in distant thoughts of her own.

“Hey, you alright?” He turned, reaching for her hand to ground himself in her touch.

She nodded and he could tell she was putting on a brave face. He wished he knew the right thing to say but he was so conflicted. This was too good to be true right? It was clearly destined for failure because things this good didn’t happen to him. He’d done too many bad things in his life to be rewarded with someone like her.

But as he searched her eyes, he felt a sense of comfort. He couldn’t explain it. So much of this whole situation seemed ripe for heartbreak but he couldn’t stop the freefall he was in. There was a sliver of hope that this … that she…may have been worth it all.

His eyes trailed down to her lips and his palms twitched because he so desperately wanted to kiss her. To hold her close to him for fear she’d disappear. His mind quickly cycled through thoughts of what kinds of sounds he’d be able to pull from her, how she’d taste, or how her body would look writhing underneath him.

Our gazes stayed locked on each other for what felt like an eternity. We were both nervous to make a move. But as Frankie’s mouth curled up into a small half smile I saw the cutest dimple form and leaned forward without thinking too much about it. Our lips met and the kiss was soft and a bit tentative, like we were both seeking permission from one another. He pulled back, looking down and swallowing hard before his eyes rose to meet mine.

“Was that ok?”

“Yeah Frankie,” I whispered.

“Ok, good,” he cupped my face as he smiled into another kiss.

It didn’t take long before his tongue licked along my bottom lip, prompting me to open my mouth for him. I could still feel him holding back a bit, so I wanted to show him it was ok. I lightly nipped his lower lip before taking it between my teeth for more of a tug. As he let out a low growl, my hands rested behind his neck, twirling the chocolate curls that peeked out from beneath his cap. I forgot where I was and swung my leg over to straddle him as his hands came to my hips. His grip tightened as I let out a small moan, slightly rocking into his lap. In the distance, some whoops and whistles broke us out of our little bubble.

“Looks like we have company,” Frankie smirked, motioning behind me with his chin while adjusting his hat.

I slowly turned, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks as I remembered we were in public. A group of teenagers waved back at us snickering and whistling. I immediately turned around, burying my face into Frankie’s neck as he laughed. “I’m not gonna lie, I kinda forgot where we were for a sec.”

I could feel the laugh in Frankie’s chest as I stayed nuzzled against him, the stubble of his beard running along my hairline as he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

“How about we um….get out of here?” I couldn’t even say it without laughing. “I’m sorry that sounded so cheesy!”

“It’s ok…if you weren’t going to say it I was,” he winked. “C’mon,” he tapped my hip, “let’s get you back.”

The closer Frankie got to her hotel, the more his anxiety spiked. He didn’t want to assume anything, but he desperately wanted the night to keep going. Kissing her felt like a fog clearing and she was the sun shining through it.

He kept his hand on her thigh the whole ride back, again grounding himself in the fact that she was real. As he pulled into the hotel, she reached for his hand. “D’you wanna drop it off with valet?”

“Um, yeah sure….ah…” Frankie blushed at his next thought before he shook his head and decided to just go for it. “How long am I staying?”

“As long as you want,” she leaned over and kissed the bare patch in his beard, sending an electric pulse down his body.

A valet came up on either side of the truck, opening the doors.

“Hi sir, ah checking in?” The young man asked as he took Frankie’s keys.

“Ah no, put it on room 1802,” she called from the other side of the truck as the valet wrote it down on a slip and handed it to Frankie.

“Oh one sec,” Frankie opened the back door, pulled out a backpack, and slung it over his shoulder. “Ok.”

I narrowed my eyes as Frankie rummaged through the back seat of his truck and pulled out a backpack. It made me wonder - is this something that he does a lot?

He seemed to sense my confusion as he came around the truck and took my hand to lead me through the lobby. “I ah, I stay at my friends’ house a lot, so I started keeping a backpack with a change of clothes,” he laughed.

“So you were tired of doing the walk of shame from your friends’ house huh?” I quipped as we made it over to the elevators.

“Ha ha. Very funny,” he grinned, that little dimple making another appearance.

We got in the elevator with a few others. Frankie held me in front of him, one hand on my hip as he quickly shot a text off.

“Texting Pope, you know…in case something happens he knows where I am,” he laughed as I feigned offense. “It’s not every day I go to a beautiful woman’s hotel room,” he whispered in my ear, his warm breath making goosebumps form on my skin.

Frankie felt like he was on the longest elevator ride of his life. As he held her in his arms, he couldn’t help but discreetly press himself closer to her. When they finally reached the 18th floor, she led him by the hand to her suite, dropping it briefly as she fished out her room key.

“Presidential Suite huh,” he raised his eyebrows, looking impressed.

“I decided to treat myself,” she said as she led him into the living room. She dropped his hand and walked over to the large windows. “I didn’t realize I would have such a pretty view.”

“Neither did I,” he was right behind her, his breath ghosting down her neck, trailing soft, open-mouth kisses to her shoulder. His hands lightly caressed the straps of her dress.

I instantly wanted his hands and mouth everywhere at the same time. I leaned my head back against his shoulder as he kissed just below my ear. He pressed himself closer to me and I could feel him already getting hard which instantly made me tingle with anticipation. I shifted a bit to press my thighs together as he ran his nose to the back of my neck, trailing kisses down to the zipper of my dress.

“I’m glad you’re still in this,” he said against my skin, his hands wrapping around my middle.

“Why?” I whispered.

“Because I wanted to be the one to take it off. I’ve been thinking about what’s underneath all day.”

I felt his length twitch as he said that, making me shiver. I turned my head to look back at him as he lifted his gaze, his eyes dark. “Well, go on,” I smirked.

“Yes ma’am.” He started to undo the zipper, kissing down my neck as more of my skin was unveiled until I was standing there in my underwear.

I turned in his arms, pulling off his hat, dropping it to the floor as our lips found each other again. His arms drew me in, pressing me flush against him.

“You're so beautiful,” he managed to say between kisses, continuing to whisper more sweet things as I walked us back to the bedroom.

Before I knew it, I felt the back of my thighs meet the mattress. I sat on the bed to undo his belt and work on getting his jeans off. My mouth watered as my eyes followed the trail of hair from his navel down to his tented boxers. As I went to hook my fingers into the waistband, he cupped my chin and tilted my face up.

“We can get to that, there’s something I want to do first,” his tongue swiped along his lower lip as he sank to his knees in front of me. “Is this ok?”

I nodded, “Y-yeah.” It had been a long time since I’d been intimate with anyone so I was feeling equal parts excited and nervous.

He gave me the warmest smile as he brought his hands to rest on my thigh. He leaned up and kissed me, pushing me backward as his mouth blazed a trail down my body, making a couple of pit stops along the way. He stilled as he hovered over my belly button.

His stubble tickled and I couldn’t help the giggles, clasping a hand over my mouth. The giggles were quickly silenced with a gasp as I felt his fingers curl underneath my underwear. I lifted my hips to help him work them off. The nerves suddenly kicked into high gear as I was left exposed.

Frankie sucked in a breath as I strained to look down between my thighs. What I saw was a man taking me in like I was the finest piece of art he’d ever seen. His eyes scanned all over as he brought his hands to my thighs, pushing my legs wider.

“F-Frankie…if…if you don’t touch me I think I’m going to explode,” I giggled, gripping the sheets in anticipation.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” he tutted with a pout which quickly turned into a smile. “Relax, mi cielo, I’m going to make you feel good.”

And holy shit he wasn’t lying. His tongue licked up my folds before finding its home on my clit with soft and steady undulations. I shuddered, tightening my grip on the sheets as his broad shoulders pushed my legs even further apart. I clenched my eyes shut, back arching as he picked up the pace.

He murmured his praise as he continued to work me over. I lifted onto my elbows, catching him looking up at me through his eyelashes as he continued his feast. My eyes rolled back as he changed the pattern his tongue used to trace around me. I reached down to his hair, grabbing a fistful of hair and tightening my grip to bring him so close I worried for a split second that I may suffocate him. But that worry quickly dissipated as I heard him moan into me, his grip on my thigh no doubt leaving a bruise as his other arm laid across my stomach.

I bucked up into him, riding this wave of pleasure. I’d been with partners who enjoyed going down on me in the past, but I’d never experienced someone devouring me with this much enthusiasm and reverence. The hand on my stomach start to trail upwards, cupping my breast through the fabric of my bra. I wanted, no I needed, to feel his hand on my skin so I quickly reached back to unclasp the garmet and flung it off the bed.

He brought both hands to palm my breasts, his thumbs brushing across my pebbled nipples. I snuck another look down and the image of my legs draped around his broad shoulders, his messy curls bobbing up and down was nearly enough to send me over the edge. I whimpered as he pulled off briefly to catch his breath, looking at me with a smirk as he grabbed the back of my thighs and brought me closer to him.

A few more flicks of his tongue as he groaned into me was all I needed as I tumbled head first into a sea of pleasure. He stayed with me as I worked myself down from one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever had. As I laid panting, legs splayed out and my body feeling boneless, he nuzzled against my thigh and kissed it.

“Fuck…” I sighed, ruffling his curls and twirling the strands that had fallen on his forehead.

“Yeah…” He chuckled, crawling up to lay down facing me.

He looked beautiful, his hair all messy and his beard glistening from me, from what he just did. I also snuck a glance down, wanting to see what was waiting for me on the other side of the thin fabric. He cupped my cheek, kissing me tenderly and I could taste myself on his tongue. I deepened the kiss and moved to straddle him.

“Can I take these off,” I looked down to the only thing separating us.

“Please, I need to feel you.” I bit my lip and reached down to pull his boxers down and off.

Seeing him lying there, his cock hard and the beads of precum dripping off, threw me into an alternate dimension as everything ran by in a delicious blur. The stretch I felt as I lowered myself on him was intoxicating.

He let me ride him for a bit before flipping me over, hitching one of my legs up, and hitting a spot so deep I didn’t even know it existed. He grunts, my moans, and the squelching sounds of our joined bodies were absolutely sinful.

“You feel so good, baby,” he panted. “I’m not going to last much longer.”

“Good….neither…am…I…fuck,” I felt myself coming for a second time – something I haven’t achieved in longer than I care to remember.

As I arched my back, Frankie’s rhythm sputtered as he came, falling forward to cage my head between his arms. He brought his forehead to mine, pressing a quick kiss to my nose as he rested his head next to mine, still panting.

We stayed like that for a while. I traced my fingernails up and down his back, lightly scratching him, which he seemed to enjoy as he nuzzled his nose into my neck. He felt like the perfect weighted blanket.

With a deep breath, he pulled out as I whined, feeling the emptiness. He laid down on his back next to me, pulling me in so I could curl into him. The early morning wake-up call coupled with the excitement and exertion made my eyes feel really heavy.

I was pulled out of my slumber thanks to a ray of sunlight coming through the curtains I forgot to close last night. Behind me, I heard the sheets rustle as Frankie turned, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling my back flush against his chest.

“Morning, mi cielo,” he kissed my shoulder. I giggled as his stubble tickled me.

“Why sky?” I turned in his arms to face him, pushing some wayward curls off his forehead.

“I don’t know…I guess…we got to know each other up in the sky. And it’s my favorite place, so it seems fitting,” his eyes softened and it made me feel giddy. “Sorry, that’s probably really cheesy.”

“No, it’s really sweet Frankie. I’ve never been called that before…I like it.”

We made out for a little bit and one thing led to another and he was back between my legs. I don’t even know which round we’re on as I lay panting and trying to catch my breath.

My stomach betrayed me and grumbled; food was the furthest thing from my mind at this point. Frankie heard and laughed as he sat up, his sweaty curls clinging to the back of his neck as he got out of bed and grabbed his boxers and jeans.

“Where are you going?”

“Downstairs to get you something,” he winked. “How do you take your coffee?”

I crawl over to the side of the bed, sitting up on my knees and reaching for him. “We can just order room service.”

“I was planning on it for later,” he smirked, kissing me before he turned to head out to the living room to grab his backpack, grabbing a shirt from it. “Coffee?” he called over to me as he put it on.

“I take it black.”

“Makes sense…you’re already so sweet.” I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Ok, I’ll be back.”

Once he left I searched around for something to wear. I spotted his BBB-8 shirt crumpled up in a ball on a chair and decided to put it on, loving how it hung on my frame. I laid back in bed, smiling to myself as I remembered parts of last night and this morning. My phone buzzed and I assumed it was Frankie asking a question about what I wanted, but instead, it was Ash.

Ash: Ok, but he’s hot AF in person. You must have had a LOT of fun last night based on how his hair looks 😉

What the fuck is happening?

Ash: Relaxxx. I’m down here taking a call. Almost didn’t recognize him without the hat.

omggg

Ash: Holy shit. He’s getting you breakfast?

Ash: Aww it’s so cute.

Ash: You must have worked up quite the appetite based on the amount of shit he’s getting.

Please don’t say anything to him.

Ash: I’m not. I’m being stealthy

Ash: Ok lover boy is headed back up.

Ash and I texted a bit more so I could get caught up on the wedding. Everything seemed to go to plan and Carol was beaming in the photos. It was so sweet to see the way Dave looked at her, his gaze reminding me of a certain pair of chocolate brown eyes that were now seared into my memory.

Almost on cue, a knock at the door brought me back to the present. I rushed over to open it for Frankie. Ash wasn’t kidding, he brought the whole bakery upstairs with him along with a couple of large coffees. He inhaled sharply as he saw me – I’d forgotten I was wearing his shirt.

“Damn, that looks really good on you,” he kissed my cheek as he walked in.

As we ate and sipped on our coffee we talked about plans for the day, deciding that we wanted to stay holed up in the room. Our conversation eventually came to a natural lull as I lay on Frankie’s chest, his hand trailing up and down my arm. It wasn't awkward or anything, it was time for both of us to just think. My mind drifted from being giddy and excited that I’d get to spend the whole day, and hopefully another night, with Frankie, to feeling deflated by the fact that in less than 24 hours I’d be boarding a plane back home.

“What are you thinking about?” He broke the silence, nudging me with his knee. I shook my head, nervous about sounding too needy. “C’mon, you can tell me.”

“It’s just…what happens next?” I winced, unable to look at him.

He paused for a moment before taking my hand, “What do you mean?”

“I mean this…us…I…no pressure or anything, but I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you Frankie. And I know I’ll be far away and I totally get it if you just wanted this to be a weekend thing and I-”

“Hey. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you too…I haven’t had this much fun in a really long time and you’re easy to talk to,” his soft smile instantly warmed my heart. “Here I was wracking my brain trying to figure out a way to not have you run but the truth is, I don’t want this to end here. I want to keep getting to know you and like no pressure or anything, but if you decide you want to come back down here to visit or have me come up there, I’d do it. Whatever you want.”

I paused for a moment, shocked by his candor but relieved that it seemed like we were on the same page. Taking a deep breath, I turned to him. “I’d like that.”

“So don’t think of it as a goodbye. We can figure it out. Have you ever done a long-distance thing before?”

I shook my head. “If I’m being honest, I haven’t really ever been in a…uh…” I didn’t want to label ourselves as in a relationship but that’s how I saw it.

“You haven’t?”

“No…it always seemed like no one was ever really wanting that, like they’d lose interest after a date or two. Eventually, I ended up getting busy with work and stopped caring.”

“Well, I’m very…uh…interested,” he chuckled.

“Good me too,” I leaned over and kissed him.

We spent the rest of the day lazily in bed watching movies, making out, having a little extra fun, and even taking a little nap too. Frankie stayed true to his promise and we did order room service later, followed up by a shower. I was so thankful I sprung for this suite for that shower alone.

It was so nice to have just a chill day, but it made me a bit sad that I wouldn’t be able to spend next Sunday doing the same thing. As the hours stretched into the evening and the sun started to set I reluctantly started packing. Frankie sat at the foot of my bed watching me flit around the suite.

“How are you getting to the airport tomorrow?” He asked as I zippered up the carry-on.

“Ah actually…I was hoping maybe you could take me?”

His face lit up. “I’d love to. We should probably get to sleep, you have an early flight.”

Sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. I wanted to savor every last moment I had with him and not squander it away by being asleep. Sex with Frankie was everything I ever wanted and unlike anything I’d ever had. He was caring and tender but passionate and decisive. I didn’t want to say it out loud to him but he officially ruined all other men for me; he was now the standard.

The alarm startled Frankie from his unusually deep sleep, annoyed that the morning came so quickly. But then again, that’s what happens when your night stretches into the early hours. Even though they’d both established that this morning wasn’t going to be a goodbye, he still felt uneasy.

Right now they were in a little bubble and riding high off of the oxytocin and basking in the afterglow. What lay ahead was going to be difficult – finding ways to stay connected with each other, working the other person into their life from afar. He already knew what Pope was going to say, no doubt telling his friend to be cautious and guard his heart.

But as she turned around and faced him, cupping his face and stroking the bare patch on his beard, he just knew. He’d never felt so sure about anything in his life. She made him want to try. To open his heart back up again. To unlock a part of himself he thought was gone forever.

I had to rush a bit to get out the door, thanks to Frankie who was very eager to show me how much he was going to miss me – not that I was complaining.

He held my hand the entire drive to the airport, trying to quell my flight anxiety along the way. The weather was beautiful so he assured me that it should be a smoother ride than our trip down.

As we approached arrivals, I felt a pit in my stomach. Truth be told, I was scared. Scared that this may be it. Scared that he may change his mind, and that this would be too difficult given his past experiences. He'd clued me in on some of the issues with his past relationship but I just know there's more there to uncover.

Sure, we talked about staying in touch, but what if my definition of “staying in touch” was different from his and I ended up scaring him off? I already knew I would be overthinking it all. But even amidst all of that uncertainty, there was a little voice telling me it was going to be ok.

His grip on my hand tightened as he pulled up to the curb to park.

“This sucks.” He dragged his other hand down his face before turning to face me. “Is it weird if I'm already trying to figure out when I could come up?” The relief I felt hearing him say that must have been more visible on my face than I thought because he chuckled as he leaned forward to kiss me. “I take it that it's ok?”

“Yes Frankie, more than ok.”

The whistles from the guards directing traffic pulled us back to reality. Frankie hopped out, jogging around the truck to help me with my bag before gently setting it on the ground.

I crashed into him, wrapping my arms around his mid back and pressing my face into his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head as we stayed like this, neither of us wanting to be the first one to pull away.

“Hey boss, imma need you to move this,” a man behind me grunted to Frankie.

“Yeah, I'll be a second.” Reluctantly, he pulled away from me but still kept me in his arms. “I'm not saying goodbye ok? Because you're going to text me when you get through security and you're going to send me a picture of that spicy Bloody Mary Mac is going to make you,” he chuckled. “And you'll tell me when you get on the plane and I'll tell you how Benny's training goes.”

“And then I'll tell you when I land,” I reached my hands to rest behind his neck, playing with his hair. “And you'll fill me in on whatever else you boys have planned for today,” I winked.

“So it's not a goodbye.”

“Nope, not at all,” I smiled into a kiss he quickly deepened. People around us be damned, I couldn't help the moan that escaped as he pulled me closer to him.

Another whistle from the cop and we laughed, holding each other for one last second before pulling apart. Frankie handed me my bag, cupping my chin.

“I'll talk to you soon mi cielo. You're going to have a safe flight.”

“I'll miss you,” was all I could squeak out as I bit my lower lip. I'd been feeling the tears quelling up since we checked out of the hotel and I was nervous they’d finally spill over.

“I'll miss you more,” he kissed me again. “Now, you have to go otherwise my truck is gonna get towed,” he chuckled.

I kissed him one last time before I grabbed my things and walked towards the sliding automatic doors. Turning around I caught one last glimpse of Franke, scratching the back of his neck with one hand and giving a small wave with the other.

I'd never been more thankful for TSA Pre-Check. The lines were long and my goodbyes with Frankie stretched longer than I thought. Once I got through security, I quickly bought my water and magazine and walked over to the bar to see Mac.

“You're late! Musta been a good weekend missy,’ he winked.

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, “that obvious huh?’

“For a second there I thought you might miss your flight. But here I made you something, on me,” he winked, handing me a white Styrofoam cup.

I took a sip and chuckled. “Is this even legal?”

“Well, don't take it on the plane with you. Figured you could sip on it while you're waiting to board. I can't have you walk by my bar and not get your Bloody Mary.”

“Thanks, Mac. Sorry I can't chat much this time.”

“Oh, I think we'll be having plenty of chats. You have a safe flight missy, I'll see you soon.”

I thanked Mac and said my goodbyes as I walked over to my gate, arriving just as boarding started. With one last big sip, I threw the drink in the trash and boarded my flight. I headed straight for the wing, remembering how Frankie said it was the smoothest ride.

My mind raced through the whirlwind of a weekend I had, smiling at the memories made and those I hoped were to come. I fired off texts to Ash and my mom to let them know I was alive and on the plane. Ash quickly responded and I knew I'd spend the whole drive from the airport to the office filling them in on the weekend.

Then I went to my thread with Frankie. Scrolling through it to see how our chain started, remembering that I saved my number in his phone as Wifey. The photo of him in bed reminded me of the soreness between my legs and I could practically feel his curls as I balled my fist.

“Ma'am, we're going to need you to turn off your phone,” the flight attendant leaned over with a sweet, but firm tone.

I sighed and quickly typed up a message.

On the plane. Found a seat over the wings. I'll let you know when I land. ❤️

I kept my phone out of sight, waiting until the last possible second before I put it away. Frankie was probably still driving so I wasn't expecting a response. With a sigh I unlocked my phone and as I went to swipe the airplane mode on I got a text.

Frankie ✈️: Good girl. Have a safe flight, I miss you.

And with that, I switched my phone off and stared outside the window with the biggest smile on my face.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! While this is the end of this arc, this isn’t the end for these two. They’ll get wrapped into Delta Landscaping (my Triple Frontier AU). For those reading that series, you would have seen a mention in the last couple of episodes.

Tagging a few who may be interested based on comments/reblogs from the previous parts. I can remove you if you want: @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain / @lwfics / @missladym1981 / @alltheseperfectimperfections / @anavatazes / @inept-the-magnificent / @weho2kcmo / @casa-boiardi / @undercoverpena / @survivingandenduring / @secretelephanttattoo / @sin-djarin / @readingiskeepingmegoing / @trulybetty / @mellymbee / @jessiejessworldsblog / @anoverwhelmingdin / @southernbe / @inthedarkestnight / @iloveenya / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @itspdameronthings / @all-the-things-2020 / @avastrasposts / @linzels-blog / @maried01 / @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 / @titabel

#frankie friday #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales

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windsweptinred · 1 year

Text

(Hob having lunch with his friend who happens to be a vet... Lets call them Ruth)

Ruth: That cat of yours Robbie...

Hob: Murphy?

Ruth: He really needs microchipping.

Hob: Oh, no I really don't think there's any need...

Ruth: He's been seen roaming about all over the place Rob. Something could happen to him. I'm surprised at you! You're usually so up on stuff like this. Not to mention, he needs neutering.

Hob: He's NOT being neutered!

Ruth: It's what a responsibile owner would..

Hob: No neutering!!

Ruth: Ok, well he still needs microchipping. Look he'll barely feel a thing, it'll take seconds and he'll forever have your details as his owner under his skin. It can't be lost like a collar. You can even update them online now.

Hob: I really don't think...

Ruth: The clinics having a mircochipping push this weekend, it's 50% off. I'll book you in!

Hob: No, I really....

Ruth: 2pm Saturday, Rob. With Murphy!

(Hours later in the Dreaming, after attempting to explain the situation to Dream)

Hob:... Will you say something... Dream?

Dream: You wish to have your name permantly branded under my skin? As a mark of ownership?

Hob: No, I mean, yes. Ruth will probably neuter me if I don't show but, no I...

Dream: It is a most novel way to ask for my hand Hob Gadling, but I accept, gladly.

Hob:.....

Lucienne: Congratulations are in order I believe.

Hob.... Thank you?

Matthew: Laughing his little feathery ass off.

#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #meowpheus #crack post

1K notes · View notes

carakook · 2 months

Text

Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

"You were just so… fuck, so pretty. So cute."

→ Chapters list ←

⚘3. Flower or Weeds?

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

⚘Synopsis: Tonight is all about getting closure from Jungkook so that you can try to move on… but you find yourself wanting to savor your last moments with him rather than dwell on answers to questions you don’t think you really want to know.

⚘Genre:Forbidden love

⚘Word count: 5k+

⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex (no smut this chapter, but it is talked about), mentions of toxic masculinity, mentions of arguing, vulgar language, breaking up (sort of?), mentions of rough sex, you will probably cry? let me know if I miss anything!

⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

⚘A/N: Chapter three! So originally this was supposed to be a very long chapter… but I got carried away, and ended up having to split it up because the WC was way too high. 🥲 The next chapter is going to be released at the same time as this one, so you can read it directly after. Sorry this took so long, I didn’t expect to add so much but I did, and then some stuff came up this weekend. Anyway, enjoy this chapter, the one after this will have lots of smut but also… I cried writing it lol. Thank you for reading. ❤️

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

♪Too Much - The Kid LAROI ft. Jungkook

♪Duvet - bôa

♪My Love Mine All Mine - Mitski

♪Scaredy Cat - DPR Ian

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

Closure is something that is needed anytime something ends. Not everyone gets the luxury of closure; some live their lives constantly thinking about the whys, the what-ifs.

Which is why you should be thankful Jungkook stepped up and offered it to you. You were too chicken shit to ask for it because you knew if you reached out to him, it wouldn’t be for closure; it would be for forgiveness. You’d beg him to take you back. He didn’t have to show up today. He could’ve left you wondering why and what if for the rest of your life. You both need this to move on.

And even in knowing this, you’re dreading it. Because closure means there’s an end… that this is truly ending.

Both of your flowers are about to be uprooted and planted elsewhere, far away from each other. The not knowing is what really makes you feel sick. Where will he go? Will he be nurtured, watered, fed? Will he continue to bloom, or will he wilt much like you are now?

Will he be ok?

What about you? Are you about to be placed in a greenhouse that will carefully protect your wilted petals? Or will you somehow find a garden where you belong and can flourish freely without siphoning the life of a flower that you swear doesn’t belong to you?

Or will you fucking wilt away and die?

It sure feels like you could die. Seeing him on his knees begging nearly killed you, as ridiculous as the gesture was. Seeing Jungkook so desperate and broken has fucked with your head almost as much as the prospect of losing him has.

You never wanted to lose him. Never. But this entire situation… has left you drained. You both know it can’t go on.

One last night, you both swear. Just one. For closure, of course…

You were thankful that the pizza guy showed up shortly after Jungkook got on his damn knees and begged (something you will never get over, by the way.), because neither of you knew where to start, he didn’t really plan this far, swore you’d cast him out. And you have no idea what you want out of this.

He insisted on paying for the pizza, seemed a little too eager to do so. But that’s not abnormal. If there’s an opportunity to buy you something, anything, whether it’s pizza or a necklace that costs half your paycheck, he will do it. He wants to do it.

The little things, they fuck you up. It’s like he’s adding salt to the wound.

Also… Jungkook is an emotional eater at times. He was thankful for the distraction because now he can avoid the awkwardness just a little longer while he stuffs his face with the pizza originally only meant for you.

So now you’re both sitting on your couch. His eyes are glued to the TV as he eats, and he looks irritated. Not because he’s actually irritated, just because that’s how he looks when he eats something yummy. Another one of your favorite things about him. He’s too precious.

The little things. They fuck you up. Again and again. Something as small as watching him eat pizza makes you want to give in to the sin and just let it be.

Maybe you could somehow steal the flower…

“This pizza tastes like sex,” he comments around a mouth full, his cheeks puffed out, and eyebrows scrunched as he chews.

You snort in response because there’s no way that cheap-ass pizza tastes like sex. He’s acting as if it’s a pizza from Italy or some shit. Dramatic.

“Don’t know if a pizza tasting like sex is a good thing, Kook…”

He immediately disagrees, shakes his head, and scrunches his brows further. He starts babbling about how sex is beautiful, the best thing in the world, blah blah blah. But you aren’t listening, not really.

Instead, you’re staring, taking in every little detail of him. The way his mouth moves when he speaks, the freckle below his lower lip moving with it. The way his eyes glitter when he talks about something he’s passionate about, such as sex-tasting pizza, apparently. Fuck, you swear there’s an entire galaxy in those eyes. Never seen eyes so expressive before. Stars and sparkles inside of his irises at all times. Or the way that not once has he looked at you since he started eating and babbling. Not once have those sparkly eyes full of stars glanced your way.

You know why. You know he’s procrastinating. He’s trying to make this seem normal like any other day you’d hang out and fuck around. He’s prolonging it.

You aren’t sure if it’s intentional, but he does this often. He’s so bad at saying goodbye. He would drag it out every single time you used to leave after a night spent together. Would keep saying bye, but then start talking about something, anything. Would tempt you to stay. And it worked every damn time because you didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want to leave him ever; you’d stay wrapped up in him for the rest of your life if possible. It’s why you never rushed him when he’d do it. You let him.

You want to let him now. But if you let him, he may never leave. You may never let him go.

You really should speak up, be blunt. Tell him that he didn’t come here to chit-chat and talk about why sex is beautiful or how this pizza is comparable to it; he came here to end this.

But if you did that, you’d have to acknowledge the prospect of closure again.

For you to receive proper closure on your end, there are unanswered questions that you need answers to.

You aren’t sure if you want the answers anymore because most revolve around his wife. The luckiest woman in the world, you think.

There are curious questions such as what her name is, how he met her, how long they’ve been married, and what she’s like… these aren’t important, just things that you’ve laid awake wondering at times when the guilt or jealousy started becoming too much.

Then there are questions like does he love her, why he did this, does she love him, why he did this, is he happy, why he did this, will he stay with her forever, why he did this…

Why did he do this to you both?

You know you’re both in the wrong. You’ve been sleeping with a married man, fuck, you fell in love with a married man, and you knew that he was married. That is wrong. So so so wrong. But you didn’t know at first. If you did, nothing he said would have convinced you to even look at him twice.

But it became regular. You slept with him once. Then you did it again. And you kept doing it. And at that time, while you were wearing those rose-colored glasses adorned in petals and leaves that fell off of him every time you crossed paths, you swore he was the one. Fell so quickly it was alarming.

Finding out he was married should have stopped this all. But you were already so fucking gone for him, so stupid in love, that you did it anyway. You told yourself that maybe one day he’ll leave her for you. You can run away together, build your own garden together, and live happily ever after.

It was delusional to think like this and you know it.

It’s exactly why you’re in your current position.

But you will never move on without the answers to those questions. You need to know, or it will plague you. This man planted your seed, nurtured your sprout, and made it grow beautifully into a flower. But the same man also put up umbrellas and blankets in an attempt to protect you from the rain and harsh sun, the harsh realities of his life, which really just made you wilt. You needed the rain, and you needed the sun; without it, you became tired and suffocated and confused.

He wanted so badly to protect you from the selfish choices he was making, but in the end, it just hurt you. Prevented you from flourishing to a full bloom like him.

And now you must pay the consequences, ask these questions you dread asking, and hear the answers that just might break you.

“Kook… we need to talk. Can’t put it off or you’ll stay forever.” You smile sadly as you pull him out of his rant.

He blinks at you, cheeks still stuffed with his third slice of pizza now. He knows you’re right. He knows damn well what he’s doing, he always knows. Always drags goodbyes out on purpose because he can’t fucking stand them.

He thought maybe if he distracted you, you’d forget why he’s here. It would turn into a normal night, and this entire thing could just be categorized as a brief nightmare… A man can dream.

He nods, looks sort of like a scolded child, and it makes your heart crack. Makes you want to cry, coddle him, coo at him, treat him like a damn baby even though he’s a grown-ass man.

“Right, sorry.”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sets his piece of pizza down, looking at it as if it kicked his dog. Starts biting at his lip ring.

You hate it when he does that.

Because you fucking love it when he does that.

“Y/N, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to… give you whatever you need to move one. So please tell me what you need. Just want my girl happy.”

His girl.

Funny, because it seems like a slip-up. It’s not. He knows what he said. He meant it. Doesn’t care if you scold him. Because as long as he’s here before he says bye for good, you are his girl.

You wish he wouldn’t say shit like that right now though. Just makes it so much harder for you. Reminds you that yes, you are his girl. But no, he isn’t your man.

If only you knew that he really is your man. You fucking own his heart, his soul, his body, his damn brain. You live in it rent-free. You consume him. Without you, he wouldn’t even have a flower, wouldn’t even know he’s capable of blooming.

But he knows he can’t give himself to you fully, not as long as he’s married.

Another reminder as to why he’s here.

You sigh, rub your forehead with the back of your hand. Because fuck, you don’t know either. You could ask the curious questions, the more necessary questions, you could pick his brain and pick him apart too, but you don’t want to deal with the heavy shit. Only what is needed.

Because you know that once he walks out that door, you’ll be fucked for a while.

So you grab his hand, the one that’s moved up and started tugging on his lip ring nervously. You intertwine your fingers, and hold on for dear life.

Deep breathes. This is needed.

“Why… why did you do this? Why did you cheat on her to begin with..? Have you done it before or like… fuck. I just wanna understand.”

The moment you ask if he has done it before, he lets out a laugh. An almost pained laugh, because of course you’d think that. Once a cheater, always a cheater. That’s what is often said. And Jungkook totally agrees.

But god, it isn’t like that at all. He is so against cheating. He thinks it is so selfish and so wrong. Yet here he is, in your apartment, while his wife is on a business trip somewhere in Paris.

He’s not a cheater. Doesn’t want to be called that. You just became an exception. What was going to be a mistake turned into the best thing to ever happen to him.

He’s not a cheater, he swears.

He leans back on the couch, jaw ticking as he keeps his eyes on the TV. He’s not watching it, couldn’t even tell you what’s playing, honestly. He just can’t stand to look at you right now. Not when you think he’s some dirty cheater.

He squeezes your hand to ground himself. So soft and small compared to his. Dainty and pretty, he’s always loved your hands. He swears they fit perfectly in his, as cliche as it is, like puzzle pieces.

Two wildly fucked up puzzle pieces that were from two completely different puzzles but somehow managed to fit more perfectly than any of the pieces that were supposed to fit did.

“No… you were my first when it came to cheating. Gonna be my last too. I’m not a cheater.”

What a contradictory thing to say. He knows it, too. He knows how ridiculous he fucking sounds. But he swears he isn’t a cheater. That’s not him. You’re not his mistress…

Just his fucking soulmate. Nothing too heavy. Fuck.

He sighs, scrunches his face a bit before letting his head fall back onto the couch. Still can’t look at you, so he fixes his eyes on the ceiling instead.

“Before we met, me and my wife… our marriage got complicated. I started noticing things I didn’t notice before, and she… changed. Wasn’t acting like the girl I used to love, but like a stranger. It was like as soon as she got comfortable in our marriage, she switched up… became the complete opposite of who I thought she was once we both graduated college.”

He wavers momentarily because he’s terrified you’ll think he’s making excuses. He’s not. He just doesn’t know how to fucking admit this shit. Has never talked about it with anyone. Has never admitted how utterly fucked his marriage is.

He doesn’t want you to see him as less of a man like his wife does. He’s fucking terrified that your last impressions of him will be similar to his wife’s ongoing dislike for him.

“We kept arguing, kept having issues… and she grew distant. I was having some issues, uh… getting it up. And when I tried talking to her about it, she just checked out it seemed. As if my dick malfunctioning made me unloveable or something…”

He scoffs at that, shakes his head. To this day it makes him feel like shit. Makes him feel unworthy of being called a man, her man. Makes him feel gross and broken. As if maybe instead of a flower, he’s a weed. A pesky weed she can’t seem to get rid of.

“There were other things of course, but that’s when she really pulled away. Wouldn’t look at me, or touch me… wouldn’t even give me a fucking hug. So it drove me kind of crazy, made me start doing stupid shit. Was a bad time.”

This is when he finally chooses to look at you. As much as he can’t bear it, he is itching to see if you’re looking at him with disgust yet. Has he become a weed for you, too? Fuck, is that all he ever was for anyone? Was he ever even a flower?

As he looks at you, he doesn’t see disgust. Doesn’t see anything, really. Which is almost worse because that means your walls are up. You’re building a fence as he speaks, as he shares his dirt-covered secrets with you. You’re protecting your wilted flower. He can’t blame you, but god, he fucking hates it.

“So I went to the club that night I met you, didn’t know what I was looking for. Just wanted to get some sort of rush, or attention… honestly was gonna flirt around but I never planned on actually cheating. I just wanted to feel… fuck, wanted, I guess… it was my fucked up way of proving to myself that I wasn’t unloveable. Pathetic, I know.”

He’s right about one thing: you are putting walls up. But not for the reasons he assumes… it’s because it breaks your heart to hear this shit. He keeps his eyes downturned as he speaks, and you see something in them that you’ve never seen before. They aren’t shiny and glittery and full of stars like they are usually; they’re full of shadows. Self-loathing. Resentment. Sadness.

He hates himself, you realize. It’s something you never noticed until now. Because when he’s with you, he doesn’t look like that. His eyes glitter the most. Full of hearts and stars and flowers, like in those cartoons.

It’s because when he’s with you, he doesn’t feel that way. He doesn’t doubt himself. He doesn’t hate himself. He feels full and loved and wanted.

When he’s at home, when he so as much thinks of his wife, he feels the opposite. He feels like fucking dirt. Like weeds.

So easy to forget about when he’s with you.

He debates on how much detail to go into about that night, about why he was so tempted by you. Should he tell you he got butterflies? That you stroked his ego in a way no one else has? That he thought for the first time ever, maybe his wife wasn’t the most pretty girl in the world, maybe it was you?

That he wanted to fuck your brains out but kiss you stupid afterward?

He doesn’t know. He wants to tell you these things because he wants you to know how loved you are. He doesn’t want to end this with you feeling guilty and undeserving because of what you’ve both done. He wants you to know that no matter how misplaced it may seem, you are the most lovable person he has ever met.

So fucking easy to love.

He clears his throat, tries to prevent himself from getting choked up. Squeezes your hand again for comfort, just because he can.

“Obviously I did cheat that night, with you. You were just so… fuck, so pretty. So cute. Was hard not to want you, especially with how you reacted when you noticed me staring… it doesn’t make it right, but I really didn’t plan to pursue you long term. Just wanted one night with you, wanted to feel wanted. Wanted to be touched and loved on so fucking badly, god…”

The glitter in his eyes returns.

“That’s why I didn’t tell you I was married. And I know I was so wrong for that. I should’ve told you, shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. But I didn’t see the need to because I swear it was only supposed to be for a night, Y/N. I swear. Wasn’t even going to stay after we had sex. Was gonna go back to my wife and beg for forgiveness…”

The glitter turns into stars.

“But the way you touched me… the way you looked at me… the way you talked my damn ear off when we were done… I was so fucked for you. Probably sounds crazy, but it was bad enough that the sex was so good, that you were so damn beautiful it physically hurt me… what made me act stupid and ask for your number and stay the night was how sweet you were. How you really did make me feel wanted, you spoke to me like I was precious or some shit and all I did was fuck you.”

Because he is precious. If you grab a dictionary right now and look up the word precious, you are absolutely certain Jeon Jungkook will be the definition.

So fucking precious.

No longer stars, but hearts and moons and planets fill his eyes. The warm lights in your apartment reflect beautifully, making it so prominent, making the things you refuse to acknowledge too obvious.

He’s looking at you now. So adoringly. So hopelessly. And you see it again; you see exactly what you have refused to acknowledge every time he looks at you: he is so fucking in love with you, maybe even more than you are him.

Clear as day. Something you can’t possibly ignore or even deny in this moment. A Bearded Iris at full bloom, gifted with strength, love, care, hope, and admiration dedicated to you. The tips of his petals are adorned in a rich lavender color, and he swears that the color was stolen directly from your Aster. Speckles of you all over the Iris.

All because of you. Always you. Only you.

Much like your Aster, the flower rumored to have grown to resemble stars when there simply weren’t enough in the sky, his eyes glittered with those little stars, also only ever because of you.

His flower. His star. His love. His fucking soul. That’s what you are; that’s what you have been. Mistress by technicality, but god, you were never that to him.

You were everything. You are everything.

Seeing it, really seeing it, it changes everything for you.

But it still isn’t enough of an excuse to let this go on.

“So in short my marriage is fucked. Has been fucked for a while, way before you. I didn’t go out that night with the intent to cheat, but I did, because I’m a selfish bastard. And I kept it going with you because I’m a selfish bastard. Im so fucking selfish for you, Y/N. There is no excuse. But I don’t regret it. Don’t care if I go to hell, or if karma bites me in the ass someday. I would do it over and over and over again because I grew to love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my entire life, including my wife.”

And he did. He means that with his entire being. He grew to love you quickly, he grew because he loved you, he grew because you loved him.

You say nothing at first because it’s a lot to take in. He was honest, didn’t sugarcoat anything, and admitted to being selfish. Both of you are so selfish for each other, yet selfless when with each other. It’s all so fucked.

He’s being vulnerable, and you know that he is. He’s looking at you now, biting at his lip ring again. He’s terrified that you won’t like what he said, what he admitted. He’s overthinking heavily because if this is your last night together, he doesn’t want to leave with you thinking he’s an awful man. He’s not. He swears he’s not. He doesn’t want you to see him through the same glasses his wife does.

He swears to god that he will get on his knees again and beg for your forgiveness. He’s not above blubbering and begging again until you forgive him one last time.

But you don’t think any of that. God, you could never. You’re silent because you see him. You really see him. You see all of the things that you were in denial about before. The love, the trust, the adoration, the soul-crushing dedication that he has for you. You aren’t wearing any glasses… Not the rose-colored glasses you had on at first, not the smudged dirty glasses his wife wears, not the funhouse glasses that he wears when looking in a mirror, nothing. You just see him. Eyes clear, and nothing obstructing your vision.

Even with all of that, he’s still a coward. He’s still choosing to end this rather than leave his wife, who you hate even more now knowing what you know. But unlike before, you understand. You may not understand fully, but you don’t fault him.

This wasn’t him being selfish because lust was clouding his judgment. This was him being selfish because he truly did love you. Love makes people selfish. You’d be a hypocrite to fault him for that when your love for him has made you oh so selfish too.

And while all of this has given you the ability to breathe, given you some sort of closure you didn’t really realize you needed… it’s not enough to keep this going.

It can’t go on.

You could keep prying. You could ask more questions. You could dig through his dirt and find unnecessary answers about his wife. Feed your growing curiosity.

Or this can be enough. This can be the closure and the answers you need to move on… and maybe you can enjoy this last night together.

Just one more night.

Instead of feeding your growing curiosity, you can feed each others flower with your shared soil before you’re both uprooted and taken far away from each other.

“Y/N, please say something, I feel like I’m about to puke.”

You blink up at him, realize it’s been a few minutes since he last said anything. You were silent for an awkward amount of time, and his mind is reeling, full of anxiety because he has no fucking clue what you could possibly be thinking.

You give him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, squeeze his hand again before speaking.

“Sorry, I was just… thinking. Zoned out.”

He bites his lip ring hard because, again, he has no idea what you’re thinking. Are you disgusted? Do you think he’s less of a man? Do you hate him now? Is his flower no longer as beautiful as you once thought now that you see all the creepy crawlers underneath his soil?

“Thinking about what?”

He tries not to sound too eager to know, even though he’s very fucking eager. He feels like his entire body is itching because of the anticipation; the not knowing kills him, too. Usually, he’s so good at reading you, your facial expressions, your eyes in particular, he swears he can read you by those alone. But he has no idea what is going through your head right now.

In reality, he’s just overthinking. He feels guilty. Guilty for how things have turned out and guilty for hurting you. The guilt makes the cogs in his brain move way too fast and causes him to be unable to process the shit he usually could.

You know this; you can easily tell by how he’s playing with the hem of his shirt and biting his lip. Also, the fact that he refused to look at you before but now literally will barely blink because his eyes are so intently on you, cataloging every tiny expression you make.

You hate how unsure he is now that he spoke the truth, as if all of this causes your love for him to wither away. It doesn’t. Not at all.

“Thinking about how that’s all I need regarding closure… would rather not talk about it anymore. Would rather just enjoy our last night as lovers together… if you want, of course.”

Now he’s the silent one… because, fuck, really? That’s it? You aren’t going to go in on him for being a scumbag cheater? You aren’t going to ask a billion questions about his wife? You aren’t going to take your weed-eater and cut him out like the weed that he suddenly is?

That’s it?

He stares at you, blinking a few times, as if maybe the more he blinks, the less delusional he’ll be. But your face says the exact same thing his did. You love him. You love him so goddamn much. He isn’t a weed; when he looks into your eyes at this very moment, he sees his reflection… and it’s the Bearded Iris. It’s him.

He’s your flower, just as you are his. You don’t hate him, you don’t even resent him… you just love him for what he is.

This makes it so bittersweet for him because for the first time in a while, he doesn’t feel totally worthless or unloveable. If you can love him, if you can see him at full bloom, then surely he isn’t broken and unworthy of love. It’s so sweet.

Bitter because he can also see the finality in your eyes. The love never disappears, but the goodbyes are silently written in your eyes. You’re stern in your decision. Jungkook is good at being delusional sometimes, but in cases like this, it’s impossible…

He knows it has to end. If you want it to end, he won’t fight. He doesn’t want to make you wilt anymore than he already has.

He just wants you to bloom. Even if it isn’t for him, he just wants you to heal, grow, and bloom all over again.

You can’t do that when he is weighing you down, tugging on your roots beneath the soil.

So he nods. Rubs at his eyes for a moment because he feels like he could cry, but he doesn’t want to cry. Doesn’t want your last night together to be full of sadness, just wants to savor it.

Feels like the last day on earth, almost. A similar feeling you get when watching those zombie apocalypse movies, and you see people and their loved ones spend their final days together before turning into zombies.

Maybe a bit dramatic, but there’s some truth to that… he knows once he loses you, he will become a zombie.

He brings your hand that’s still in his to his lips, and he places the softest kiss there while looking at you through his lashes.

“I’d like that. So much.”

You give him another sad smile. You feel the same, as if this is the end of the fucking world and this is your last night together.

You almost wish it was because then you could die together. You wouldn’t have to live with grieving each other when you’re both very much alive.

You wouldn’t have to watch his flower be torn out of the ground and carried away. You wouldn’t have to wilt anymore.

Dramatic. So fucking dramatic. But god, love feels dramatic. Especially love like this.

Next Chapter Here

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #18+ only #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #i love jungkook

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ch4nb4ng · 1 year

Text

Over the Eight seas: Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x afab!reader

Word Count: 7.1k (yeah i kinda got carried away...)

Genre: enemies to lovers

Note: Ok idk how this is gonna go... feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 I am going to make this into a series tbh.. we will see @j-0ne25 here u go !!

Summary: You’re the head lifeguard, and he’s the cocky subordinate that does everything he can to make sure you know who’s really the boss: yes, everything.

Over the 8 seas masterlist

Being a lifeguard was a long time dream of yours from childhood. The beach was somewhere you grew up, holding many special and fond memories. It’s how you got to where you are now, head of the Bondi beach lifeguard association. Being in charge of one of the most famous beaches in the world was not an easy task. It involved hiring, training, firing and just maintaining lifeguard reputation and overall quality. It wasn't an easy job, nevertheless, you were grateful that you could be by the sea; that’s all that mattered to you.

You had your fair share of different lifeguards. The sweet ones who were very professional, sweet ones who had no idea, the average ones, and then the ones that were just plain arrogant, knew they were good at the job and just flaunted it. He was one of them. Always prancing around half naked ‘accidentally’ forgetting/misplacing his yellow shirt. He was incorrigible, but he was the best lifeguard at Bondi, apart from you ofc course. Hyunjin was a menace, and learning how to manage him might be your greatest task of all.

***

The sea was choppy on a windy day like today, typical of a March weekend. Guards were on high alert, and the space between the two flags was very small, meaning that there wasn’t much safe area to swim in. Nonetheless, you sat happy in the watch chair, enjoying the way nature was such an independent, powerful body of its own.

“Y/n, good morning,” Chan smiled, taking a seat next to you, “how are you today?”

“Pretty good Chan, it’s nice to have you back.”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “time off is always good, but I can’t lie and say I didn’t miss it.”

That brought a rather large smile to your face. It was nice to hear that others shared the same passion for the ocean like yourself. Chan was one of the more senior lifeguards, having the most experience apart from yourself. Growing up a swimmer, it became advantageous during water emergencies, especially when things needed to be done quickly.

“That’s always good to hear, anything to report for today?”

“Nothing apart from the girl Hyunjin that was shoving her tongue down his throat in reciprocation to his tongue down her throat when I walked in this morning.”

An egregious eye roll followed after that. This was not the first time this had occurred. It was probably like the 20th time to be honest. Hyunjin liked to have fun, there wasn't a problem with that, you all did off duty, but it was the fact that he would bring them to work. You weren’t sure why, but everytime it made your blood boil. It definitely wasn't jealousy; no that couldn’t be it.

“If you have something to say, you are more than welcome to say it to my face rather than eye rolling behind my back.”

Ignoring his smartass comment you placed the binoculars over your eyes, refusing to even look in his direction. Chan suddenly felt awkward, realising he was about to be in the middle of a cat fight. Yep. There was a nickname for the interactions between you and Hyunjin. It was a scary day when the two of you were on duty together. You did everything you could in your power to work the least amount of time with him. It was just the nature of your relationship.

The rivalry began as soon as he stepped foot onto Bondi. He was the only lifeguard that could actually challenge you ability wise, knowledge wise, in every facet. He was confident, way too confident in your opinion, so when he got promoted to assistant manager you were still the same level, things just turned nasty. Hyunjin’s arrogance was tuned up all the way. Then you got promoted to head of association, and things just got worse. Though you felt no need to gloat, Hyunjin did everything in his power to undermine you, highlight that you were incorrectly promoted; he became a mega asshole. And you would rather drag your bare ass across a concrete road than spend more than five minutes with him.

“What do you want Hyunjin?”

“You wish I came here to talk to you, you’re so obsessed with me. I actually came to talk to my buddy Chan about last night.”

“Jesus Hyunjin, I already saw tongue wrestling her, no need to gloat that you’re getting your dick wet around here.”

“No but dude,” he replied, hitting Chan on the chest to make sure he got his attention, “she was like a freak, she went into a handstand as I went down on her, so flexible, doing cartwheels and shit completely naked.”

Your jaw clenched at hearing Hyunjin’s preposterous claims. Yes, it had been a while since you got some action yourself, so yes, it was kind of making you jealous, but it definitely had nothing to do with the idea of it being Hyunjin. Definitely not.

“Wow dude, that's crazy.” Chan nudged him smiling, almost forgetting that you were still next to him. He nudged him with his elbow, eyeing you before whispering to Hyunjin , “Maybe we should continue this convo at another time.”

“Why,” he scoffed, “are you worried about me hurting y/n’s feelings?”

This made you put your binoculars down, shooting daggers his way. Even though he got under your skin, continuously and consistently, it was usually easy to just ignore it. But the idea of him thinking that you're obsessed; it was just not something that you could just not let happen. The last thing you needed was rumors.

“For fucks sake Hyunjin,” you huffed, “can we just have one day where you spare us the details of your sex escapdes. First of all it’s just a massive HR violation and genuinely no one wants to hear it.”

He said nothing, instead, just laughing at your outburst.

“Aw y/n, y/n, it’s okay, not all of us can have mind-blowing sex regularly,” he paused, walking closer you and whispering into your ear, making sure Chan couldn’t hear. His lips brushed against the cartilage. A shiver running down your neck as he spoke.

“I bet you’d be screaming my name if I had my way with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, you were speechless, unable to speak as he walked away. It took you a solid two minutes to shake your head, stand up and leave, and head to the tea room to grab some water. You weren’t sure why, but as you took a sip of the icey beverage, you could still feel the weight of his words. Yes, Hyunjin was a douche and made sexual remarks numerous times, but never were directly about you. It was hard to admit, but there was a dull ache between your legs at this very moment. However, the fact that it was comments from what you classified to be the most repulsive man on earth was making you sick. You chugged the water down in one go, running to the bathroom and splashing your face. You definitely needed that.

It wasn’t a long time of peace however, because your radio was on, and you could hear your name over the gentle static.

“Y/n, we’ve got a code T63.621A. Young girl stung by a jellyfish, parent is with them in the water. All on-duty units please grab the boat and head out to sea, girl is struggling to swim, over.”

“Copy that, Chan, Hyunjin, Seungmin, meet me at the shed to get the boat and let’s head to them, over.”

“Copy that.”

The three responded individually, meeting you at said shed. When it came to the beach and saving civilians, your issues with Hyunjin had to be put aside, and whether you wanted to admit it or not, he was a great lifeguard. It took a multiple person effort to lift the boat out and into the water.

“Update on the location? Over.”

“Y/n,” Felix replied, " must have been from the tower, “next to the south-west buoy 45 meters out. Be careful, the radar is showing for large volumes of blue bottles today, over.”

“No worries, I will keep you updated as much as possible.”

Chan turned the boat into gear, racing it out as fast as possible. It was somewhat hard to see, but the closer you got, the easier it was to see that the situation, while needed to be dealt with, was not an emergency.

“Hello, how are you today?”

The mother was responsive, helping herself and Chan grab her daughter and put her into the boat. The mother soon followed, resulting in a successful pickup of two civilians. Hyunjin hurried over to the child, giving her a small smile before asking for her name.

“Wow,” he gasped, patting her head, “that’s such a nice name.”

“Thank you,” she giggled, “what’s your name?”

“My name is Hyunjin, but you can call me Hyune, like the food.”

Her smile was greater than before, and you couldn’t help but follow yourself. You had no idea how good he was with kids, but he didn’t need to know that, knowing the compliment would go straight to his brain.

It was a short trip. Once you had arrived back to land, you got back on your radio to notify others that it had been sorted.

“Attention, rescue was successful, Chan and Seungmin will return the equipment and Hyunjin and I will follow up and see if we can request a 907N, over.”

Hyunjin kneeled down to the little girl's height, that beautiful smile, wait beautiful, get ahold of yourself, still across his lips as he spoke to her again.

“Ok, so could you please point to me where it hurts.”

The rescuing was the quick part, and there wasn't much time to determine on the boat especially since it was such a short distance out. She said nothing, tiny index finger pointing at her leg. You could see the bright red hue the sting the blue bottle had left behind.

“Well we shouldn’t get you to walk on that, shall we?”

In one swift motion, Hyunjin lifted the little girl, carrying her bridal style to the first aid room. You couldn't help but stare at so many things. The patience he had for the child, how kind he was with children, the way his arms subtlety flexed while carrying her. The way he was making her laugh too. It was hard to not be distracted.

The mother followed, closing the door behind her as Hyunjin closely inspected the sting. He analyzed it with much interest, making sure that it was not life threatening or just overall too serious. Your diverted attention made you completely forget how you treat a fresh sting.

“Okay so, the first thing we like to do is apply pressure to it.”

On his knees to remain eye level with the child, Hyunjin lifted his arms above his head, out of all things he chose to use to apply said pressure was his yellow lifesaving shirt. Fuck, the other ways you could have him like this. It was so obnoxious, but you had to suppress the gasp that gurgled in your throat. God his body was fucking hot. So toned, so defined. He had such a lean, yet such a muscular torso. You could have sworn you saw Hyunjin smirk, him noticing your taking to his torso, but he knew better than to tease you while doing his job.

“Y/n, did you want to have a look at it before I apply some pressure?”

You raised your eyebrows, shaking your head to snap back into it before giving him a small “yes” and kneeling down next to him. Hyunjin’s presence was as close as you have ever been before.The two of you all of a sudden were very near, faces separated by inches as you inspected the wound. He leaned in even closer before, ‘accidentally’ brushing your ear again before asking, “what do you think captain?”

The faint part of his breath lingering on your ear, and if you knew better, he was probably trying to set you off, and although you didn’t want to admit it, you knew that it was working.

“Okay so, it’s a pretty minor sting.”

You stood up, running away from the nightmare that is being attracted to Hyunjin to speak candidly with the mother of the little victim.

“I would just monitor it for the next couple of days. If it gets worse at a rapid rate, head straight to the emergency at your nearest hospital, but-”

“It’s very rare for that to happen, we’ve never seen it here before.”

And he was back. The cocky, arrogant, overbearing lifegard you knew him for. The fact that he interrupted you made your blood boil. Here he was again, trying to undermine you because he simply thought he was too good for you, too good for everyone that works at Bondi beach.

“Yes,” you looked at him, shooting another dazzling death glare, “Hyunjin will get that bandaged up for you and then you guys should be good to go.”

“Ah ok thank you,” the mother replied, nodding as you exited and headed up to the communal lifeguard showers. You were not really wet, and yes the showers were to rinse off the salt water, but maybe a hot shower would help you rid yourself of the array of confusing emotions you were feeling. Stripping down to your bikinis, you closed the door to your stall, and let the steaming water pour over your body. A deep groan of bliss escaped your lips as the liquid hit your back, allowing you to self-reflect on how to remain calm. Today was just an off day, nothing else. I mean, if you’re attracted to Hyunjin, maybe it's a sign that you need to redownload tinder, get someone to jump your bones, and then come back to peace, again.

It didn’t take long, however, to be interrupted once again, hearing a phone call out in the hallway.

“Yeah, no Chan, it was chill, and y/n’s fine I think, she doesn’t seem off to me, does she seem off to you?”

You turned the water slightly lower, wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Dude, I don’t like y/n, she gets on my nerves so bad, will you stop trying to be a wingman all the time and focus on your own love life?” The chuckle that followed was a nervous one, anyone could hear that.

You were about to lose it, turning the lock on the stall before you heard the voice getting closer. Covering your mouth, you turned it off, able to hear the slight textured sound of him dropping his duffle bag discarding his clothes, hopping into the stall next to you.

“Chan I’m telling you, she is the most irritating person I have ever met.”

That’s it. You barged out of your stall, aggressively knocking on his before banging on his. He opened with a confused expression, quickly followed by a smirk, like he already knew he had been caught. Seeing you in a drenched state, he put his phone into his bag, wanting to avoid any water damage for the outburst he was about to unwillingly observe.

“Oh y/n, what a pleasant surprise, you look good.” A slight hint of heat could be felt in your cheeks at his dirty compliment.

“Do you always talk behind the back of your coworkers, or is it just me?”

You shut the door behind you, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea. The only response he had was to chuckle. He stood there, swimming shorts only, turning around and letting the water splash his face, trickling down his, now that you’re looking straight at it, very wide and toned back. You watched each intricate movement from behind, admiring the way each finger tip ran through each strand of now damp hair. Every impulsive thought was telling you to touch it, feel the darkened locks against your fingertips: but you knew better. One thing would lead to another, and the last place you wanted it to be was right here in this very stall.

“Definitely just you.”

He turned back around, leaving you hung up against the door, a large factor that was accounting for the lack of distance between the two of you. Silence filled the room as you waited for him to reignite another conversation. Your breathing was shallow, and you knew that if he came closer, you were going to be in trouble.

“You know what Y/n? I have to ask you something.”

He lifted an arm, placing it on the door, equivalent to your eye-level.. He looked down on you, almost like he was checking you out yet simultaneously wanting to intimidate you.

“Don’t you ever get sick of this?”

“Sick of what?” You were genuinely confused as to what he meant, scoffing a little too loud.

“The hatred, if you could even call it that, for me?”

You scoffed in response, again. You knew what he was trying to imply, but he was so far off. It was hatred. How could it be anything else?

“It’s definitely hatred, don’t get that wrong. I hate you, you hate me, we ignore each other and only interact when necessary.”

“Then why aren’t you moving away from me?”

His body followed his hand, hips almost pressing up against yours. Fuck, he was right. A sharp inhale pushed into your throat, you suddenly felt nervous. Looking up at him felt like a dream. Hyunjin was so fucking hot, and maybe, the closer he got to you, it was true that it wasn’t hatred at all.

“You’ve trapped me in, I can’t escape.”

He said nothing, watching your eyes as he leaned forward, letting his lips attach themselves to yours. Your eyes went wide at first, thinking that you should pull away, but the longer it went on, the more you wanted it. Your lips began to move with vigor themselves, Hyunjin groaned into your mouth, you following, allowing his body weight to fall into yours. You lifted your leg, guiding his hand on the outside of your thigh to lift it up. Your core was already throbbing, and you could tell after he lifted your leg, that it was having detrimental effects on him also. His semi-hard on could already be somewhat felt between your core, and you rolled your hips a little creating enough subtle friction in the perfect spot; the zipper of his shorts. It wasn’t until you needed breath that when you parted and your brain stopped short-circuiting, and you realized where you were and what you’d done.

“What the fuck was that?”

Hyunjin brought a tumb to his lips, wiping the outer corner before chuckling at you.

“I was just proving to you y/n, this so-called ‘hatred’ you have for me.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, throwing your hands in the air, “you think that you can just fuck around with any girl you want? Well news flash, I’m your fucking boss, and if you think you can ever do that again, I’ll destroy you so fucking fast, you won’t know what hit you.”

“Hah,” he chuckled, a smirk still painted on his pride ridden face, “Getting destroyed by you sounds like a dream.”

Too flustered to even respond, you stormed out, forgetting to dry yourself, putting your clothes that stuck to your wet body and going back on duty. What the fuck was that? A shiver of nausea came over you, knowing that you will never live this down. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you attempted to compose yourself, heading to the lookout. Chan was sitting there too, for some reason avoiding your eye contact.

“Hey Chan,” you swallowed hard, hoping he wouldn’t notice, “how’s every-”

“I heard it.”

Your heart dropped into your ass. Surely he wasn’t talking about what you thought he was.

“What? How, I-”

“I think Hyunjin thought he hung up, but he actually didn’t.”

“Fuck,” was all you could say. This could ruin everything. Your job, your reputation, your well known hatred for him. You weren’t even sure what it was anymore. Part of you cared so much about what other people thought, especially the guards at the beach, but the other part, the bigger part in this moment, didn’t give a fuck. The only thought lingering on your mind was his hands, how they seared across your skin. How they already were able to significantly impact you in such a small period of time. If you knew better, you would have thought that his palms were already imprinted on you. You were reeling but, the logic of being rational was too hard to even fathom trying to do at this moment.

“Yeah, look I don't know what goes on between you guys, and y/n tell me if i'm overstepping, but you say you hate him, but I really don’t think you hate him at all.”

You scrunch your nose, knowing that maybe what Chan said was true after all.

“Look, whatever you think, can we just go back to before like nothing ever happened, please.”

He laughed, knowing that this would be the route you wanted to take, “secret is safe with me.”

This little chat did not calm you down or relax you at all. If anything, the thought of Hyunjin on you was becoming heightened burning into the back of your brain. You wanted him. You wanted to be touched, bad. It just happened to be convenient that Hyunjin, a very attractive man, happened to crave touch at the same time.

“Fuck this,” you mumbled, “Chan I’m going on my break, if anything really serious, just let me know via the radio.”

He nodded, eyes stuck in his binoculars overlooking the beach. You walked back inside, hoping and praying that Hyunjin was still in there. You became excited, craving that feeling of being touched, caressed, held by him. Your mortal enemy; it was crazy.

And the craziest things of them all? When you walked back into the showers, he left the door open, back resting on the wall stall, cock in hand, absolutely pumping himself to the full capacity. He was too caught up to even notice your arrival. The sight instantly made you horny, and the fact that he was probably thinking about you while he did it drove you up the wall. Getting in the stall, you closed it behind you, undressing yourself completely this time, standing there, waiting for him to notice. His lids were heavy and it took him a decent 30 seconds for him to see you back.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin jumped, covering his member with his hands, fuck his cock was hot, “you fucking scared me.”

At first, he didn’t notice your lack of clothes, giving you direct eye contact in his fright. It did not take long for him to notice tho, subconsciously biting down on the big fucking juicy bottom lip. God you wanted to suck it. Leave it longing in your mouth as he pulled away, length tipping you over the edge.

“Shit,” he huffed, “I can’t fucking do this anymore.”

Hyunjin takes you by the waist, wrapping his arms around your back and he pulled up against the hardness of his body. His lips crashed against yours, and he moaned at the rough contact, the immatureness of him reeling in the way your tits pressed up against his chest. You were just as hungry, arms around his neck, hands and fingers acting on prior impulsive thoughts; god his hair was so soft.

“Fuck,” he pulled away in between, pecking you, “you’re so,” peck, “fucking,” peck, “hot I could die.”

You pulled away completely, giggling at his eagerness. You couldn’t help yourself, the hunger was consuming you. Without thought, you dropped to your knees,biting down on your lip while looking at his throbbing length in front of you. My god was he girthy. A hand on his balls, you began to massage, Hyunjin’s hands instantly fisting your hair into a very messy pony, grabbing what he could before his jaw became slack, gasping at the way your lips became wrapped around him. Although he had a decent length, giving head was your specialty, it was one of your favorite things to do. You tested the waters, flicking your tongue vigorously against his tip, before letting your lips wrap around him completely, more and more of his cock engulfing your mouth. Bobbing up and down at an extremely slow pace, your eyes were glued to Hyunjin’s face, gratified in how easy it was to make him shut the fuck up and be grateful for something, in this case, the something being your mouth. Your tongue, all the warm parts of your mouth that made him rock hard. Made him jerk off thinking about you. A sigh of relief waved over you when you saw his eyes roll back, mouth very much agape the lower you sank into him.

“Holy shit baby,” he grunted, head still affirmatively back, hips gently rocking into your mouth, “you’re so good at that.”

You pulled him out of your mouth for a moment, a large ‘pop’ at the full release, your left hand quickly replacing your lips as you began to pump at a very slow pace. The arousal for yourself was increasing at a rapid pace, uncontrollable. You took your other hand off of his balls, index finger flicking your nipples for any kind of self stimulation. A tiny giggle escaped your lips, reaching Hyunjin’s ear and snapping him back to reality. He moved your hand off of him, reluctantly, before hooking his hand round your elbows, lifting you up and pinning you against the wall of the stall. This frustrated you, feeling like the power was being taken away from you. If only you knew that if you kept blowing him, he would have cum, and the fun would have been over way too quickly for you. He pinned you down, enclasping both wrists in one hand. Fuck. All control of your limbs was now in his hands, literally. His typical ego fueled, pride ridden glare was back on his face, and oh, was he ready to get his revenge on you.

“Slow and steady wins the race, right?”

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” you growled, core throbbing at the combination of condescending tone in his voice. Part of you felt bad for teasing as you enjoyed the way he submitted his body to your hand and mouth, but then, Hyjunin’s torturous teasing of his words triggered a playback of every single time that he was an asshole to you. Every single time he called you a name, undermined you to civilians and other staff, the shit talking to the junior guards especially. The fact that he used to so openly talk about all the women he fucked, how they had him begging his name, cumming all over his face. That was the last straw.

Hyunjin shoved his tongue down his throat, generously lifting the restrain on your hands, his left hand now encompassing the circumference of your neck, other and dragging itself across your torso. The sting of his nails were already felt, but it only increased your arousal. Hyunjin somehow managed to be rough yet delicate at the same time. You knew that if you looked down, there would be a multitude of red streaks, but that was not what was important right now.

It was the way the hand around your neck immediately went to your mouth to muffle the crescendo of moans that escaped your lips when he pulled away and his calloused fingertips slipped underneath your waist, stretching your pussy lips before dipping his middle finger right along your clit. The circular motions, like yours, were long and drawn out. So petty he was. Nevertheless, it still made you moan just as hard, biting down on your bottom lip once more. Fuck, nothing had ever felt so good before.

“That shut you up,” he chuckled with a more sinister raspiness to it, “you’re lucky we’re in the shower and I can’t tell how wet you are.”

“Yeah, fucking right,” you huffed, gentle griding your hips on his fingers. It was easier to deny it than accept that he, Hyunjin, the one man you hate, was able to make you feel this good. He withdrew them for a moment, spitting on his own hand before removing the other from your muffled mouth, prodding them at your own. You opened eagerly, moaning at the taste of his bodily fluid. At any other point in time, you would repulse at the motion, but right now, nothing was as important as this. You bobbed your finger with ease against the long digits, but it wasn’t for long, because they went straight back into your folds, an index finger slipping almost too easily into your hole.

“Fuck Hyunjin,” you bellowed, “I fucking hate that you’re making me feel this good.”

An expression of satisfaction dripped across his face as he sped up the pace of his finger, adding a second as the sound of skin slapping increased. You reached around, reattaching your fingertips to his cock. A nervous laugh and a hip shudder came from the man next to you, not expecting you to be so bold, yet he expected it at the same time. He knew you couldn’t stand when someone attempted to be better than you at anything.

“Stop making this a competition,” he huffed, “you know you’re going to lose.”

“No, I’m-fuck, no I’m not.”

But that’s exactly what it was. Who could make the other cum first. A sharp whine escaped your lips, followed by a deep moan from himself, it was your goal to have him cumming all over you. Ropes of his seeds coating your stomach, tits, face, lips. You had never wanting something this much from a man. The two of you were at your loudest, but you simply didn’t care. If someone heard, it was just going to be a whatever moment. It’s not like anyone would know who it was anyway, or maybe not, because you were moaning his name every time he thrusted into you.

“You’re so path-shit, pathetic y/n, I knew you always wanted me.”

“Shut up,” you hissed back. He withdrew his hands from your cunt, placing them on your hips spinning you around, ass now facing him. His cock was pressed in between your cheeks as he began to slowly move, the slight sensation on your rim making your toes curl. Your hands were wrapped around his back. It would have looked awkward to an outside person, but you didn’t care. You needed to be close to him.

“You know when I realized it was the first time I wanted you?”

“When,” you breathed, heavy, almost like you were out of breath from running in to save a life, “when did you want to fuck me?”

He ignored, taking your hands off of him and pinning them together once more, above your head. He continued his teasing motions, but maneuvered himself intellectually, cock now slipping in between your folds, tip barely hitting your clit. Although it was painfully tortuous, it still felt so good, rewarding almost. You waited in anticipation, desperate to hear his answer. It made you curious, because you were asking yourself. What switched in his brain? What flip switched on your own? How your cognitions led you to this moment. It didn’t matter, because your brain was short circuiting. You couldn’t see him, but you were dying to. Wanted to see how he looked. Hin losing himself to the pleasure of your pussy.

“The first time you yelled at me,” he grunted, taking a hand off your wrists and stroking his length, prodding at your entrance. He took no time to tease you though, sliding effortlessly between your folds. The sound was immense, and there had to be an echo that traveled. You could see Hyunjin’s side profile, head bowing and licking a gentle stripe up the crevice of your neck, spine shuddering at the wet sensation.

“You know what I really thought?”

You said nothing, a giant fear that it would be only a surmount of broken words. Instead, you let his dick do the talking, whining when he pushed his hips back, pulling away from you completely. Your pussy was now aching, and you could definitely tell that you were dripping for more. Hyunjin was clearly merciless when it came to you, and not giving you what you wanted.

“Oooh,” Hyunjin mumbled, lips buzzing on the skin along your shoulder, “this pussy is so sweet I just know it?”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I wanna fucking taste that fucking cunt so bad.”

It was ironic how his cursing was getting you embarrassed, almost like you forgot that the was about to fuck you. He who you said you hated, who you would rather do almost anything else for than give Hyunjin that satisfaction. The gratification to know how you feel, what kind of lover you are, how your cunt felt against him. But things had changed, and there was nothing you wanted more than all of that. You were desperate trying anything and everything to increase the friction considering that Hyunin was moving painfully slowly.

The truth is, Hyunjin had been waiting to get this for a very long time. To get you. Yeah I mean, the few times the senior guards went out together and you hooked up with other guys, left early and went home with them was tough for him, but you weren’t together. Although a long time ago, he used to get so worked up, and he didn’t know why. He still found you almost intolerable, which is why it was easier to hate you, because if he did like you, he would fall down the rabbit hole at a world breaking speed. He knew that when, no, if the moment came, that it would be sweet, but he didn’t know it was going to be this good. You exceeded his expectations tenfold, especially the way you sucked his cock. His hips were gyrating faster unconsciously, and knew he could come right that second the more he thought about it.

“Hyunjin,” you whined, “harder, please.”

He ignored you, completely pausing before letting go of your wrists and flipping you around. The first thing he did was slide his body right against yours, thigh splitting your legs open, the gentle friction against your clit making you moan. Hyunjin had never looked so fucking hot in his life. You had seen him wet, many times, but this was different. The beads of liquid spayed his face, drenching his long hair, but his eyes, lips. They were so hungry, disheveled, like he was a predator hunting his prey. He reattached his lips to yours, crashing down as his hand snaked back around your neck. He didn’t even know if you were okay with it, but it didn't matter when you lifted your hand yourself, pushing your fingertips against his as he kissed you. The multitude of sounds that came from your mouth as the result of the tension between your core and Hyunjin’s thigh poured into his mouth, leaving him to wrap his free hand around his cock. He began pumping, pulling away and wasting no more time to plunge his cock deep inside of you. Oh my, it could be humiliating how easily he slipped inside of you.

“Say my name,” he growled, applying more pressure to your neck, “say it out loud.”

“Hyunjin,” you whined, tone pretty quiet as you concentrated on not clenching around him, “Hyunjin fuck.”

“So fucking sweet,” he continued to grunt, picking up his pace to an even greater speed, “that’s my favourite way to hear it.”

You brought your free hand up to his body, raking your digits over his washboard torso. My god he was fit. You wanted to slap yourself, wondering why you spent, no, wasted so much time hating him. He chuckled, the deepest he ever has, clearly enjoying how your fingers felt on him. Your mind, being a visual person, went back to the mental imagery of him jerking off in front of you. It was eating your mind up as he continued to fuck you unapologetically.

“Was it me?”

“What?”

“Fuck,” you chuckled, “I can’t speak. Were you-fuck, thinking of me?”

“When y/n,” he scoffed, rhythm getting distracted by your poor attempt at a question, “you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“When you were jerking your cock?”

“Yes,” he answered confidently, his cock was in you and it would probably be more awkward if he just denied it, “it was because of you.”

Your pussy clenched, The idea was so hot, Making a man that went out of his way to piss you off and vice versa became so enamored with you. So much so that he couldn't wait until he got home and had to relieve himself at work. You thanked the upper powers that nothing serious was happening at the beach, because you would have been a raging horny bitch, even more than what Hyunjin would consider you to be on a normal day.

He was moving at an unfathomable rate, and moaned softly each time you clenched around him. You knew you couldn’t last for much longer, and the thought of him getting off to you was accompanying you at this moment. Hyunjin took his hand off your throat, one hand on his hip for more precision, the other enclasping your nipples, and fuck, did he get your weak spot.

“You have beautiful tits,” he grunted, lips latching onto them like his life depended on it. He flicked his tongue back and forth, causing the most unholy of moans. Locking your hand into his scalp, you yanked him closer, back up to his lips before smashing them against his. You want to feel him now as close as you can, because once this was over, you weren’t sure if you would even be able to reenact the same feeling.

When you pulled away, Hyunjin’s bottom lip caught between your teeth as you lingered, more than enjoying the way they were so big, they popped when escaping your teeth. You were getting closer, unable to control the clenching that your pussy was doing. Hyunjins hissed, the tight sensation doing so much for him.

“Fuck Hyunjin, I’m so close.”

“Me too baby,” Hyunjin whined, adjusting his hips, “fuck I’m gonna blow so hard.”

“Yeah baby?”

Your hands were across his face, once under his chin and the other on top of his chin, wrapped across his cheek. It was a sloppy placement, but it was the least of your concerns as the pit of your orgasm is brewing at the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah Y/n, fuck,” he mumbled under your palm, sounding like he was on the verge of tears, “wanna blow in you.”

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” it was your turn to growl, knowing Hyunjin was slightly losing himself inside of you, “do it.”

His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. It was his biggest fantasy, especially when it came to you. The thought of you walking around at work, cum stuffed into your cunt, and he was the only one that would know it. He could not count the endless times he thought about it.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“No I’m fucking joking.”

“Fuck keep going,” he moaned, too fucked out to keep up with your sarcastic tone, “I’m about to cum so fucking hard.”

“Yes,” you sighed, “fill me up baby.”

“I’m gonna fucking fill you up.”

“Yes you are.”

“Shit, fuck yes I am,” he grunted, thrusts becoming very erratic, “you’re so fucking beautiful.”

He gave you one last peck, never breaking eye contact as he watched your jaw slack, the most gruesome moan falling from your lips as he watched your orgasm roll over you. Crashing like a tidal wave. Your hips bucked against him, increasing the pleasure for Hyunjin as he came in you momentarily, a similar sound coming from his lips as the two of you rode out your high. The feeling of his seed making you clench unfathomably around him. You ran your hand through his hair again, pushing the hair off his forehead to see his face in this form completely. You cooed him through it, wimping when you felt the loss of him inside of you as he withdrew himself.

Reality washed back over you and it hit you that you've just had sex, with a coworker (that you hate’), in the work environment. Hyunjin bends down and picks your bathing suit, two pieces, up from the floor, that intractable smirk covering his face. They hung of his index finger, a gentle reminder that you were very naked

“Fuck,” you laughed, unable to get rid the smile on your face, “I should be so mad at you, but you were really fucking good.”

“You don’t need to say anything, hearing you moan my name was enough.”

Rolling your eyes, you redressed yourself quickly, waiting for him to do the same. You punched him in the chest, interrupting him from putting his shirt back on.

“For fucks sake, you’re incorrigible, just take the fucking compliment and shut up.”

“Fine,” he replied sarcastically, coughing after to clear his throat, “we probably shouldn’t walk out together, might be suspicious.”

“Oh yeah,” your eyebrows furrowed, attempting to be serious, “good idea colleague.”

He let you out first, however you still waited for him, not really seeing the big deal in walking out to the lookout together.

“You know Chan heard the first part of our, you know, situation.”

“Fuck,” he cursed, “I thought I hung up.”

You laughed.

“It’s fine, he was already petrified of looking at me, imagine he heard the rest.”

He chuckled at your words, playfully hitting your arm as the two of you walked out. You sat next to Chan for the final time of the day, giving you a suspicious look at the fact that you and Hyunjin were laughing together. As you sat there, you tried to focus on the beach and the beach goers, but all you could think about was him.

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fix #hwang hyunjin fic #hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin imagine #hyunjin scenario #hwang hyunjin scenario #stray kids #stray kids fic #stray kids smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario

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ennabear · 1 month

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hii !! 🫶🏻 just discovered your account and i love it !! :) i was wondering if you could write some more headcannons about ellie? like, what job would she do? etc. i like to think that if she existed today, she'd probably be an illustrator for children's books !! that'd be so cool, tbh. i can see her making books about space or dinosaurs, and going to book fairs at schools to meet kiddos and talk to them about it. (crossover with professor!abby who used to teach little kids 🫶🏻🫶🏻) aah. sorry for rambling. but like, i just think ellie would have a blast if she existed today. like with all the museums ?? all the new ways to make art ?? but anyway !! what are *your* headcannons for modern ellie !! 🪐🫶🏻

modern!ellie’s job!! (hc) 🦕

thx for the request bae cause this made me smile so big. i have SO many hcs for modern ellie like i’ve been waiting for this moment!!!!! also dw about rambling i love to hear your thoughts 🤗

ok for starters i think ellie would be a nerd in high school. i know that some people headcanon her as a jock or a stoner (and that ellie has a special place in my heart) but i definitely think she’d be the opposite tbh. i imagine her with only a few friends (dina, jesse, cat). and i also think she’d have insanely good grades because she’s just smart like that. and all of her teachers love her because even though she’s quiet, she’s really kind and creative.

also i think her family would be just her and joel and maybe a dog. like imagine her spending her weekends getting guitar lessons from joel and then taking her dog on a walk and documenting it in her journal. she would fr have such a blast!!!!

for college i definitely think she’d major in astronomy/astrophysics or maybe art history?? and in her last years of college, she’d get a job as a secretary for a science museum. honestly, she didn’t hate it, but she was super jealous of the tour guide because she got to take all of the cute little kids on a walk and talk about the fun stuff while ellie had to sit behind a desk all day. but after begging her supervisor enough, she’d get promoted to tour guide after the mean old lady who used to do it retired.

and guess what??? the kiddos loved her!!! she always made sure the kids were having a great time and she knew a lot about what she was talking about, whether it was dinosaurs or planets or volcanoes. and the joke book came everywhere with her!! absolutely nothing made her happier than hearing the little monsters giggling and squealing about a joke that wasn’t even that funny.

abby and ellie would become good friends because of the time abby took her class to the museum on a field trip. they ended up actually really liking each other, especially because they had so much in common. and sometimes after work they’d meet up at a bar and talk about life, it was nice for them to both have a new friend who was equally as nerdy.

ellie would be a tour guide for quite a few years while abby got her doctorate. a few years after abby became a professor, ellie tried out illustrating a childrens book for a local visitor at the museum who was really fond of ellie. it was nothing too big, but she was really proud of it.

after she finished the drawings for the book, she wanted to try writing one of her own. so she decided to write a textbook for kids about dinosaurs with her own illustrations and a joke on every page.

safe to say it was super successful!!! she ended up going to local elementary schools and educating the littles about the different types of dinosaurs and each era they lived in. and you better believe old man joel was so proud!!!! his little girl ellie that he used to take to dinosaur museums was now writing her own dinosaur books!!!

i think eventually she’d quit her job at the museum and focus on being a writer full time, along with keeping art as a hobby. and i can 100% see her getting married and adopting a kid just like joel adopted her, and she’d pass on all of her science knowledge to her mini self. also i think she’d mainly only write science textbooks for kids, but may end up publishing a sci-fi novel or two.

i think that’s all :3 thanks for the ask sweetie pie ilysm 🫶

daily click / israeli themes in tlou

#to all the anons who have sent requests i swear i’m not ignoring you on purpose 😭#ellie williams #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader #modern!ellie #the last of us

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dootdootwriting · 1 year

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Oooh is it possible to request scenarios with the Liyue boys having a Kitsune s/o (that also has a teasing side like Yae Miko)

featuring: childe; xiao; zhongli; baizhu (new!) tw: teasing, spoilers (?) in baizhu's (for content not released yet) type: fluff, established relationship, mentions of chronic illness in baizhu's, slightly suggestive in childe's part, sparring in childe's part pronouns used: none a/n: multitasking writing this and using my 113 arena tickets in crk <3 i am so sick of those hollyberry/moonlight/pv combos </3 die in agony <3

utc for length as usual!

BAIZHU

In the name of Rex Lapis, if that man overworked himself one more time you would force him into paid vacation.

This was not the first time Baizhu had collapsed at work, and certainly would not be the last. With his condition, of course it would happen, that in itself wasn't what bothered you -- it was the fact that, despite being perfectly able to keep track of his symptoms and react accordingly, your much beloved partner always insisted on continuing his work.

"You know," you hummed, hauling him gently off the floor, "if you wanted to see me home early so badly, you didn't need to go to all these lengths."

Baizhu managed a smile and a light huff in recognition. "You know I would spare you the trouble if I could."

"Trouble? Taking care of you is nothing but a pleasure." Baizhu's bed, thankfully, was not far away, and you sat him upright on the mattress, checking his breathing and heartbeat for any irregularities. Fortunately, you didn't find any, so you gave Baizhu the OK to start work again -- SLOWLY -- along with a soft kiss on his head.

"Thank you," Baizhu called before you left, "for not making me feel like a burden."

"Are you kidding? Getting to see your gorgeous face every day is a blessing from the archons themselves."

Though you had your back turned, you could feel his blush, from all the way across the room.

CHILDE

"Can't keep up?" came the ever-familiar sneer from a few feet away. You sprung back up to your feet and leveled your daggers at Childe, who insisted on sparring every weekend as a "couple's bonding activity." You weren't sure if he liked showing off or getting rough better.

"You wish," you shot back, and within the blink of an eye you were on him. With one knife just grazing his jugular and the other tossed aside to pin his arms behind his back, you sneered back at him. "What's the matter big boy, cat got your tongue?"

For half a second, you could see your boyfriend's thought process stop abruptly. His eyes widened and his mouth parted, light traces of the start of a blush making itself clear across his freckle-covered cheeks.

And then he was back to his usual self. "Okay, you win!" he dropped the spear he'd been using, raising his arms up in a surrender motion and backing a few steps away.

"I swear, you get me every time when you talk like that..."

XIAO

As much as Xiao loved you, he sure didn't visit you very often. It wasn't intentional or anything -- he was just new to the whole relationship thing, and he wasn't exactly the best at, well, quality time.

So, naturally, you put on your best outfit, made sure you were looking snazzy, and went to wait for him at the Wangshu Inn. Verr Goldet recognized you as soon as you walked in and let you upstairs. Now all there was left to do was wait.

Xiao's room wasn't much, honestly; a bed mostly for you and a dresser and a rug was all that was anything close to decoration. You recognized a vase of qingxin flowers, a gift from you a few months ago, now sitting on the windowsill and wilting despondently.

"Who let you in here?"

Xiao had appeared in the doorway, silhouette illuminated by the light in the hallway.

"What do you mean who let me in here? Verr Goldet did, of course. And besides," you said, making your way over to him and taking his face in your hands, "you owe me some time together. With the way you've been avoiding me you'd think you didn't want me anymore~!"

Xiao looked back at you, horrified, as you laughed lightly.

"Only joking, dear. But really, we have some catching up to do."

ZHONGLI

If you had told any of the adepti a century ago that in a hundred years the venerable Rex Lapis would be seen in human form wandering the harbor with a silver-tongued partner, they would have reacted one of two ways, depending on the adeptus.

"Absolutely not, no way in hell," or "Archons, that's a relief. He needs a break."

He did, of course, need a break. And that's where you came in. Because after centuries of violence and upholding peace over an entire region, anyone would get tired and want to settle down. And though that's exactly what Zhongli did, he would occasionally feel the need to continue on with work at the funeral parlor long past overtime.

"Aw, and leave me all alone to watch the ships tonight? I really thought our little tradition meant something to you," you would pout, giving him a hopeful glance. Zhongli, of course, knew exactly what you were playing at.

"Well, alright. I suppose I can spend a few hours with you tonight." Your persuasion and good nature was always exactly what he needed to make sure he was taking enough care of himself and you.

"Only a few?"

#genshin x reader #baizhu x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #baizhu #childe #tartaglia #xiao #zhongli #gn!reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader

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sunflowersandsapphires · 8 months

Text

The Sun Will Rise

Wake Up, Chapter 8

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: sexual assault themes and descriptions, if non-con themes trigger you please do not read. other warnings: swearing, misogynistic language, violence

This chapter is very intense. I tried to keep the S/A stuff as not graphic as possible to avoid triggering people but it is very much there and the violence is more present than any other chapter.

a/n: Today has been a fucking DAY yall. My new cat got sick (he’s ok he just ate too fast and then got sick on me and my bed which was gross), I am having issues with pay equity at work, and trying to deal with utility issues in my house. I am very sorry for the late update. PLEASE let me know how you feel about this chapter, your comments and reblogs literally make my day every week.

w/c: ~4.5k

Four years ago, you’d been desperate for a change. Despite spending thousands on a fancy degree, you had gotten nowhere in the legal field and your job waiting tables at a diner in Queens barely paid the bills, though you were grateful for the work.

Pouring coffee and taking orders wasn’t the worst job you’d ever had and the majority of customers during your shifts were sweet. You played the role of “cute, friendly waitress” well, making even the grouchiest patrons appreciate your soft smile and quick response time. Maybe this persona you’d adopted in your efforts to avoid your crippling anxiety was the reason he started looking your way. Perhaps it was your obvious desperation to be liked. Whatever it was that drew his attention, it was your eventual disinterest that kept it.

The first day you met James Lannister was a shitty one. You’d worked a double shift, meaning you had been less than perky towards the end of it, leading to stupid mistakes and screaming customers. Emotions were running high when he took a seat in your section, so his calm demeanor and attentive smile drew you in.

He’d only made pleasant conversation with you the first few visits. Asking about your day, your week, your hobbies, your interests, your family, your aspirations. Anyone would’ve been eager to spill their guts to him, he was quite charming. The way that his green eyes pooled with fascination as you spoke was almost reverent. No man in your life had ever made you feel that way, like nothing else in the room mattered.

Which is why the red flags zipped right by you without triggering your internal security system. Day after day, he’d visit your place of work after his own shift at the Pro Bono Association. He’d ask his questions and encourage you to ask your own, which led to a standing invitation to sit with him when there was a lull in traffic at the restaurant. Your shared interest in the legal system and his willingness to share a slice of that life with you compelled you to take him up on the offer.

Next came the gifts. Little things, at first. Large tips, suggestions for weekend entertainment complete with a gift card or fully funded ticket, books to further your legal studies after work. It was strange, but the attention was divine. He wasn’t an ugly man, and you’d never felt noticed like this before.

Eventually, he’d goaded you into joining him and his wife for dinner at their house. Mrs. Lannister was beautiful and cunning. On the surface, she was always polite, reassuring, more than willing to host you or have you join them in public, but there was an ominous undercurrent that you never could place. The way she looked at you when her husband turned his back was almost murderous, but you were so caught up in the idea of being wanted that you glossed over the tension between the two of you.

You were lonely, sure, but you never wanted romance or…other things…from Lannister. To you, he was a mentor, an idol. Someone to live vicariously through while in a transition period in life. But after accepting all of his kindnesses, you’d unknowingly crossed a line.

Before it all fell apart, it almost seemed like universal intervention. During a seemingly mundane conversation, Lannister clasped his hands over yours with a giddy expression. It seemed that there was an entry level position opening up at the PBA office in Queens and he thought you’d be perfect for it. Not only would it be a substantial pay raise from your current position, but there were opportunities for growth and he would be your boss.

At the time, it felt like a miracle. Your ticket to the next stage of your life. And it was, but letting your guard down for that shark ended up being the biggest regret of your life.

Transitioning into your new role wasn’t seamless, but you took it in stride. Your eagerness to take on complex projects and expand the mission of the organization impressed the more seasoned employees. Lannister began taking you to lunches, galas, drinks, anywhere that he could introduce you to his network of attorneys. It was thrilling to be thrown into the world you’d always dreamed of and received with such open arms.

For a few months, it was pure bliss. Until the night you placed your first case.

Placing the case itself was unproblematic, you were happy that you fit into the role so well—and you expressed such sentiments to Lannister who invited you over to his house to celebrate. Arriving with a bottle of your favorite wine, it was immediately clear that something had changed. The once cozy house was in absolute disarray, riddled with empty liquor bottles and boxes of feminine clothes. And, although Lannister had implied there would be others there, you found him alone.

Lannister noticed your wandering eyes and explained that his wife had left him. He told you not to worry about that and to focus on your personal success. The two of you enjoyed some good food and cheap wine, the older man drifting closer by the glass. Eventually, you felt your eyes growing heavy and he insisted that you stay over given the late hour.

That night, you dreamt of a large shadow, looking over you while you slept, warm touch dancing over your clothes. You tried to protect yourself, but your arms wouldn’t respond to the commands your brain sent. When you woke up, you found your skirt unzipped.

It got blurry after that. Lannister’s very public divorce led to inopportune inebriation, massive hangovers in the office, lewd comments, and wandering hands. While you still accompanied him to events, he began claiming you in public in increasingly repulsive ways. Holding you by the waist, kissing your cheeks, stroking his fingers over your neck, using that disgusting pet name. My little Princess.

You only tried expressing your discomfort once before it escalated. You’d approached him in his office after lunch, when he was likely to be more sober, and hesitantly asked if he would consider pulling back. You’d been met with the most terrifying display of anger you’d ever seen. You hazily recall books being thrown, hits landing along your arms and torso, insults being hurled at you.

He had made you. You would be nothing without him. You were ungrateful and whoreish and conniving just like his wife. While the memories faded, the scars from your skin splitting over the hinges of his office door still shone in certain lights.

After that his actions were deliberate. His lingering touches scalded you. Being alone with him meant sentencing yourself to torture. When he was angry, he’d call you into his office to “talk it through.” To your absolute horror, these talks often involved a locked door and drunk hands groping your trembling form.

For weeks you endured his abrupt switches between calculated insults, physical abuse, emotional manipulation, and inappropriate contact. You were barely alive, going through the motions and slowly convincing yourself that you deserved it. You’d fallen out of contact with your friends, were so emotionally fragile that a stern look from a stranger could send you into a panic attack, and you found yourself so nauseous that the first few hours of each day were spent hugging a toilet.

It was clear you needed help, but Lannister was your boss and his threats terrified you. He’d made it clear that if anyone found out about his behavior, it would cost you your livelihood. As an incredibly well-known attorney with an impeccable record, there was no way you’d win in court, he had too many friends on the force or the bench. Not to mention how new you were to the organization. Despite his growing alcoholism, your coworkers were as enamored with Lannister as you used to be, the chances of them believing you were minimal.

So, you stayed, trapped in a nightmare of your own unintentional creation. Until a position opened up in Manhattan.

Applying on a whim, you’d kept your application a secret, not expecting to even get an interview. But, apparently the managing attorney across the East River had heard your name through the grapevine because she reached out within the week to schedule a lunch with you.

The heavy weight that hung over your shoulders like a shadow has lessened considerably in the days leading up to the lunch. The possibility of escaping the hell you were living in quickly appeared like the light at the end of the tunnel.

Manhattan was beautiful and the employees of the PBA office in Midtown were ecstatic to meet you. It was the best day you’d had in months, until you got back to your own office.

Realizing you’d forgotten an important file you needed for a clinic the next day, you walked briskly through the quiet building, hoping to get in and out without running into your supervisor. Unfortunately, the world was not that gracious.

As you rummaged through your desk, the overhead lights turned on making you flinch. Your hands stilled over the file cabinet, your breath catching on your throat.

“You little bitch.” Lannister was furious if the rage dripping from his tone was any indication. “Tell me, Princess, why did I receive a call from Midtown about how happy they were to have finally met my assistant?”

You couldn’t speak, your throat constricting as if wrapped with fabric. Frozen in place, you heard him approaching and you cowered.

“Thought you could go behind my back? Leave me high and dry without a warning? You owe me, little princess. After all I’ve done for you…”

Whether from fear or something else entirely, your brain blocked out the rest of his actions that night. You came to shaking on the floor, bloody and partially undressed, but you weren’t alone. Lannister had disappeared, thankfully, but your coworker stepped into your office with a shaky inhale.

Erica was a young attorney who’d started a few weeks before you. Your emotional state had made it difficult to grow close to anyone in the office, but she’d always seemed sweet. And, fortunately for you in the end, she’d heard the commotion your boss had caused before storming home.

As your wonderful coworker helped you clean yourself up, you tearily confessed the secrets you’d worked so hard to hide. Disgusted, Erica had encouraged you to speak to HR and you’d submitted a complaint later that day with her assistance.

You owed Erica a great debt. Over the period of the investigation, she’d become a fixture in your office, making sure to keep you at a distance from your abuser. Without your prompting, she’d offered the committee looking into the allegations her full testimony. You were quite certain that her statement is the reason Lannister was fired.

In the weeks following his termination, you felt like a new woman. You’d moved to a cute little place in Hell’s Kitchen and begun your new work as a volunteer coordinator. While you still struggled with crowds of lawyers and the taste of alcohol, a good therapist and a decent amount of time had helped you heal a considerable amount.

Enough to open yourself up for the possibility of a relationship, which you weren’t sure you’d ever want after everything you’d been through. Meeting Matt had changed that though, turning ‘never’ into a ‘not right now’.

Sweet, considerate, adorable Matt who had brought you more comfort than you ever thought you deserved. Who was probably still furious with you for falling for him, but you couldn’t help but plead with the universe to send him anyway. Please, Matty, please come for me.

As the muggy van rumbled over potholes and uneven roads, you pictured his beautiful face. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. How his brow furrowed with concern over the most minor harm that had befallen you. The beautiful way his lips melded with yours as a single kiss made you feel weightless. You regretted not kissing him one last time before ruining what you had.

I’m sorry, darling. Please don’t let them take me from you. I’m not ready to let you go just yet.

As Matt neared the 4th floor, a knawing pit of dread grew in his stomach. He could smell your tears, newer than those that had fallen after he’d left, but your heartbeat was nowhere to be found. Frantically pacing the hallway, he quickly noticed your suitcase abandoned a few feet from the door to your shared room. Crouching down, he tilted his head, evaluating the scene. The scent of your fear coated the floor, walls, and fabric of your bag. You must have been terrified for it to penetrate your surroundings to that degree. Underneath your pheromones, Matt shuddered with rage as the sickly saccharine fragrance of Beatrice Snyder’s reached his sensitive nose. Mingling with her perfume was a different smell, smoky and dark.

You’d been cornered by Snyder and an unidentified man, he was sure of it. Fumbling to find the right end of his key card, he threw open the door and stripped out of his suit. Given that he’d intended to share the night with you, he’d intentionally left his body armor at home. A black long sleeve tee and scarf around his face would have to do tonight.

Stepping back into the empty hallway, he fled to the stairs. While the scent of your fear only fueled his dark anger, it was strong enough to leave a trail down the stairs and out the back door into the cool night air. As inconspicuously as possible, Matt navigated through the building, dodging employees and guests successfully until he reached the loading dock behind the kitchen. Your scent stopped here, replaced by the smell of gasoline.

No, no, no. Where are you, angel? What happened to you?

Matt growled in frustration, spinning around desperately searching for any sign of you, he ripped his phone out of his pocket and pressed your speed dial, hoping that you could still reach your phone.

Receiving nothing but your voicemail message in return, he felt his fists clench. “It’s going to be ok, my beautiful girl. I’m coming.”

Replacing the phone in his pocket, he took off in the direction of the strong scent of auto fuel, praying to God that the most recent vehicle would lead him to you.

The van jolted to an abrupt stop and you slid along the dirty carpet into a seat in front of you. Your back ached from the jostling you’d gotten on the ride to whatever destination you’d apparently arrived at, and you could feel the imprint of thousands of plastic carpet strands that had melded with the flesh on your cheek during the drive. The sound of car doors slamming and the heavy footfalls following made you strain against your binds one final time.

A large, rough hand snatched your ankle, yanking you towards the night air at the tail end of the vehicle. Kicking your legs wildly, you flopped like a dying fish along the carpet as you were slowly pulled outside. The fingers at your ankle moved to wrap around your throat, forcing the airway to constrict. Struggling fiercely against your captor, you heard a familiar, rasping voice from behind you snarl, “Shut her up, you idiot!”

Lannister’s goon pressed a sharp implement against the soft flesh of your stomach. “Keep movin’ and you’ll lose a lot more than your man, bitch.”

As your squirming died down, reality set in and tears began flooding down your face. It was over. He’d won. All of the efforts that went into putting distance between the two of you were meaningless. He’d found you, and Snyder was going to take Matt from you because of it.

You were roughly stood on your feet and forced to move in the trail of Lannister and his other goon. Eventually, you were forced into a cold metal chair, binds attached to the stiff bars of the furniture. Your blindfold was ripped off, though your gag remained. James Lannister’s ferocious grin appeared in your line of vision, making you flinch. “So glad we’ve been reunited, Princess. We’re gonna have some fun.”

The group had taken you to what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. There were broken wooden palettes and scraps of steel scattered around the floor. Holes in the sheet metal walls allowed cold, winter air to blow crisp waves of wind through the space, raising the hairs on your neck. A gaping hole in the roof above you showers you in moonlight, illuminating a small s circle around you and Lannister.

A knife glinted in your peripheral vision and you whimpered, squirming involuntarily. Lannister grabbed a fistful of your shirt, yanking you forward with a growl. “The more you squirm, the more damage I do, little princess. I’d hold still if I were you.”

With that warning, he slashed a jagged cut in your top, nicking the skin along your collarbone. A hand ran over your hair, grasping the strands and tugging so that your face was turned towards your captor’s once again. “There’s my obedient little pet. Was wondering where she’d gone.”

Bile rose in your throat as Lannister stroked his massive hands along your face, planting heated, bourbon-soaked kisses along your neck and down your chest. Prying away your torn clothes, he turned to face the goons. “Is it ready?”

“Yes, sir.” One deep voice responded from the shadows of the warehouse beyond your visible surroundings. “Before I have my fun,” Lannister stepped aside, revealing a tall dark shape topped with a blinking red light. “I’d like to record a confession, dear. For my sanity, and for the board to know the truth.”

Raising his barely slurred voice, he turned to the camera.

“State your name, for the record.”

“Please don’t do this. I don’t—“ Your pleading morphed into a screech of pain as the point of the blade ripped a gash in the exposed skin of your shoulder.

“Wrong answer, pet.” Lannister took a swig from a practically empty bottle of liquor that had seemingly materialized out of thin air. A trail of blood wormed its way to the cement floor, pooling at your feet. You stared at the river of red liquid for a moment before stammering out your name.

“That’s a good pet. What’s your relation to me, my dear?” Chucking the now empty bottle aside, it shattered at your feet, spraying you with cheap alcohol and pieces of glass.

“I worked with you. In Queens.” A smaller knife plunged into the meat of your thigh and you screamed in agony. The larger of the two goons shuffled into your wavering vision, smiling as he wiped your blood from his hands.

“More specific, Princess.” Lannister spat at you.

“You were my boss.”

“That’s right. Now tell us, how did you get me fired?”

You sobbed, “I didn’t, I wasn’t—“ Grasping the knife still planted in your leg, Lannister twisted it, grabbing your throat.

“Yes you did, you miserable bitch. You ruined my fucking life. I lost my divorce settlement, my job, my house, my reputation. All because I took an ungrateful slut under my wing.” Ripping the blade from your body, he hurled you to the ground.

“TELL THE TRUTH!” Lannister roared, sending a brutal kick into your chest and knocking the air from your lungs. “Tell them that you seduced me for months and then used me to land a promotion. TELL THEM THAT YOU TOOK MY ENTIRE LIFE FROM ME AFTER I’D GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING!”

Stomping over your body again, he stumbled backwards allowing you to cough out a response. “I—I took everything f-from you. I was un-ungrateful.”

Lannister cackled, pulling you from the ground by your uninjured arm. “Turn the camera off. They won’t want to see this next part.”

The goons stepped forward to follow your former boss’s orders, but a piercing sound from outside halted them in their tracks. A horrific shriek, the sound of metal grinding on metal, echoed through the warehouse. All three men froze, looking to each other as if expecting to find the cause of the noise at the hands of their fellow assholes. Dropping you hard onto your shoulder, Lannister turned towards the source of the creaking and your head lolled after him.

As the door to the warehouse slammed open, you cried in relief as your weak gaze made out the black clad figure against the night sky. Daredevil. Your devil. He came for you. Tears poured down your cheeks and your limbs tensed, Matt’s presence drawing you in like a magnet.

Lannister huffs out a laugh. “The fuck do you want, shadow man? Don’t you have robberies to stop?” At his sides, the other men shuffled nervously, knives gripped firmly as they awaited their next command.

Matt stalked forward into the warehouse, his body stiff as it held his rage back, visible tension like that of water building against a dam. Fists clenched, he prowled an arc around your three kidnappers. “Step the fuck away from her.” His deep timbre was pitched exceedingly low with pure fury and it sent ripples of goosebumps across your bare skin.

Drawing the handgun from the back pocket of his slacks, Lannister stepped towards you once more. “Do your worst, Devil. She’s not leaving here alive.” The world slowed, as if the air around you was suddenly thick as molasses. Your eyes were processing as much as they could as dread settled in your stomach. The barrel of the gun moved across Lannister’s body and pointed at you as his meaty thumb cocked the weapon.

Simultaneously, Matt’s athletic form rocketed forward, skillfully dodging the swings from both of your unnamed assailants and leaping at Lannister. A gunshot rang and you traced the bullet as it soared towards you. Suddenly, your vision went white as pain seared through your body following the pointed metal cylinder as it tore through your abdomen. Screaming in anguish, your ears rang with a high pitched tone, the flash of white across your sight fading to black. The only thing you could focus on was the burning agony as the puddle of your blood seeped into your torn clothes. Forcefully shutting your eyes, your inhales turned shallow, and you prayed to your beloved Matthew that he would get you out of here before you took your last breath.

Matt’s skin was alight with rage as he maniacally tore through the three brutes to reach your collapsed form. The head captor’s words barely registered in his ears over the deafening sound of a gun being pulled. No. Do not let it be her, take me. The safety was undone as Matt ripped one man’s shoulder from its socket, using the falter in his steps to knock him unconscious. He needed to be faster. He had to reach you. Planting a hefty kick into the next guy’s stomach, he brought his billy club up to meet the force of the man’s own body weight bringing him down. A hollow thud of a body on cement meant there was one attacker left. And then came the gunshot.

As the bullet escaped the barrel it was encased in, Matt roared, the devil inside him fully consuming his consciousness as tackled the shooter. Knuckles connected with a jawbone, then the softer cartilage of a nose, then the lumpy space of a rib cage. Matt poured every emotion he had into this criminal, each punch holding seeds of guilt and regret and desperation.

The smell of your blood cascading over the dirty floor broke him from his trance. Dropping the battered body of your captor to the floor, he dove beside you, hands hovering over your body as he assessed the damage.

Sobbing in relief, he cupped your face as gently as he could. “It’s ok, angel. You’re gonna be ok. They’re not gonna hurt you anymore. Just breathe with me, please sweetness, breathe.”

Your shallow pants stuttered as your hand weakly grasped his shirt. “Ma-Matty?”

“Yah sweetness, it’s me. I’m right here. Gonna get you out of here, ok? Just hold on.” Ripped a strip of fabric from his shirt, he pressed it over your largest wound, biting back a pained sound of his own when you hissed. “I know, I know, angel. I have to stop the bleeding.”

The soft smell of salt melded with the metallic odor of your blood. You were crying, holding on to the fistful of his shirt like it was a lifeline. “Y-you came for me? I’m—I’m so-sorry”

Stroking your face lightly before he dialed 911, he cooed. “Of course I came, lovely. I’ll always come for you. Always. Now you just focus on breathing. In and out, sweetness. Good girl, just like that.”

At the operator’s greeting, he spit out a rough command for police and an ambulance, giving a brief description of the events that had happened. Next, he pleaded for their help. There was no way he alone could get you to a hospital in time.

“They were holding her hostage. She’s been shot, stabbed too. Lost a lot of blood. She’s still alive but she needs medical attention, please hurry.” He spit out the approximate location, scrubbing tears from his face as he pocketed his phone.

Pressing his forehead to yours delicately, he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my sweet girl. It’s going to be ok. I’m so sorry.” Your hand raised shakily to cradle his nape.

“Matty,” Your voice was weak, but determined. “I—I need you to know—“

“Hey, this isn’t one of those moments, sweet girl. You can tell me later, when you’re healing. You focus on—“

“No, please.” You begged, he fought back a choked cry so that you could say your piece.

“I love you. S-so much.” You heaved a breath. “I’m sorry that I ruined—“

“Shh, you didn’t ruin anything.” Matt chided gently, tears slipping faster after you'd confirmed his previous mistake. “I love you too, my wonderful, sweet girl. I won’t let them take you from me. I won’t.”

“I’m sorry.” You choked out, and then you fell out of consciousness.

Matt collapsed against your chest, clinging to the sound of your weak pulse as his body trembled with sobs. He planted soft kisses to your hair and cheeks, stroking lightly over your skin as he willed God to save you.

The distant sound of sirens forced Matt to pry his face from your pummeled body. As the sound of vehicles approached, he made sure to alert the paramedics to your presence before taking back to the shadows. Hearing the clamor of attendants around you, he made a promise. “I’ll be there when you wake, angel. I’m sorry.”

Taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle @sweetbee0108 @dark-night-sky-99 @fallen-angels2213 @will-delete-this-later-probably @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @vernon-dursley

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