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#when love and hate collide chapter 3
defleppardfan1 · 5 months
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When Love and Hate Collide: Chapter 3
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Y/N found herself holding her breath yet again as she stood in the awkward silence. In order to avoid eye-contact she looked at her feet and waited for the lift to finally stop. There wasn’t any talk between the two but Y/N could feel Joe’s eyes on her. Part of her wanted to talk to him and ask him why he disliked her so much. But the other part of her couldn’t muster the courage to make a sound. 
After what felt like a year, the lift came to a stop in the lobby and Y/N waited for Joe to leave. As soon as he did, Y/N felt the tension roll away. Walking out before the doors closed again, Y/N made her way to the front entrance. 
She had to pass the group heading to soundcheck on her way. As she did she heard them all say goodbye to her. Waving at them all she walked up to Malvin and asked if there was anything else he needed her to do. After getting the all clear she went on her way.
*
Finally she finished shopping. Making her way back to the bus, Y/N quickly unpacked everything as they would be staying on the bus that night and went inside the venue. She was very pleased that everything was within walking distance and she didn't have to go too far. 
As she went inside she could hear all sorts of sounds as various roadies were doing the final preparations for the show. Y/N spotted Malvin quite quickly, making her way over to him.
“Y/N, I’m glad you’re here. Do you mind going backstage and making sure the boys have everything they need? Joe will need a few water bottles especially for his voice and the others may need one or two.” Malvin told her before pointing her in the right direction and walking away again. 
Y/N put on a brave face and made her way backstage. It didn’t take too long to find the dressing rooms. They all had individual ones but there was a main green room as well. Knowing better than to just walk in, Y/N knocked on the door and waited to be let in.
It was only a few seconds before she heard Sav’s voice shouting permission for her to enter. She did so slowly. Once she was inside she shut the door again, noticing that there were four smiles in her direction.
Phil and Viv had their guitars on their laps, whilst Sav held his bass and Rick had a drumstick in his hand. It didn’t take too much for Y/N to realise that she had interrupted a rehearsal. 
“Malvin just sent me back here to see if you guys needed anything before I get your water ready for the show.” She looked around at the boys, all but one gave her their full attention. The boys all shook their heads apart from Joe. Realising she would have to ask him separately, Y/N took a deep breath. Something she had been doing a lot around him.
“Joe?” She asked him. Much like that morning at breakfast, he lifted his head up at his name but refused to make eye contact. He just shook his head and went back to ignoring her. Nodding her head slightly, she informed them all that she would be back with their water for the show. She dreaded the next few hours where she would have to sit with them all in case they needed anything. She loved their company but with Joe there, there was always an air of tension, making everyone uncomfortable.
Y/N went to the store room that the venue had put aside for things to be held for the band and retrieved water for all the guys. Carrying them back in a crate, Y/N didn’t see someone walking towards her until the last minute. Bumping into them, Y/N started to apologise again, still not seeing who it was. All the bottles had fallen to the floor and she quickly crouched down to pick them up. The person in front of her hesitated before kneeling down to help her. 
Sending them her thanks, Y/N looked up to see the one and only Joe Elliott. Internally face palming for bumping into him yet again, She apologised again before getting cut off.
“It’s fine.” Joe mumbled, “Let me just help you take these to the dressing room.” Although he offered, Y/N got from the tone of his voice that it was the last thing he wanted to be doing. Y/N just let him help her, not wanting to upset him anymore than she already seemed to. After they got all the bottles in the crate, Y/N went to pick them up but was stopped by Joe doing so. 
“It’s obvious that if you carry these you’ll bump into someone again, so just let me.” Joe snapped at her. Having enough of his attitude towards her over the last two days, Y/N started talking before she could stop herself.
“Why do you hate me?” She asked him. Instantly regretting saying anything when she saw him roll his eyes. 
“Not everyone always gets along, Little Miss Perfect.” Joe told her sharply. Ignoring the name calling, Y/N decided to push it further. If she was going to spend the next year with this man, then she at least needed to know why he was acting like this towards her.
“I know that” Y/N spoke trying to keep her voice calm, not showing him how nervous he was making her, “But I haven’t, to my knowledge, actually done anything to you to warrant this hostility.” 
“Maybe not. I know what you are doing and I’m not going to let you do it.”
Y/N looked at him quizzically, “What am I doing?” She asked him.
“Don’t take me for a fool Miss Y/L/N. This must be great for you, travelling with rockstars, spending every minute with them. Just know that I’m never going to let you get too close.” Joe clenched his fists around the crate. Walking on ahead, leaving Y/N more confused than before.
Reluctantly, Y/N follows him to the dressing room. Their argument, if she could even call it that, had left her feeling sick almost, it was one thing not to like her, but another to accuse her of something, not telling her what it was. 
The rest of the band could feel the thick air as the two walked back into the dressing room. Joe walked back out again, mumbling something about ‘finally going to the bathroom’ and Sav looked at Y/N for answers.
“Everything alright?” He asked her softly. He couldn’t and quite frankly didn’t want to, believe that his best friend could treat someone this way. Nodding her head, Y/N told him not to worry about it. Wanting him to just focus on their first show of the tour. Sav took this as an answer for now, knowing that he would have to find out more at some point for the sake of everybody on the tour. 
*
The show went great, like always. Y/N went and watched from the side. This was her first Def Leppard show and she could only imagine if it was this great from backstage, then it must have been fantastic for the fans, surrounded by the atmosphere of the rest of the audience. She held the water on the side for all five of them, Joe coming to her twice for some water. Both times he nodded in thanks and left again straight after. 
Y/N congratulated all of them as they finally left the stage after their encore. Joe walked straight past her but Sav and Viv gave her a sweaty hug and Phil and Rick walked with her as they went back to their dressing room. There was a set of showers down the corridor so all five went off to shower and Y/N waited for them before she would help escort them to the hotel. By help she meant, walk with them and try not to get trampled by fans.
*
Going back to the hotel had been a task but the band went to the hotel bar to celebrate. Not necessarily with alcohol but to unwind after the show. They had a few days before the next show, so one late night wouldn’t matter. Tomorrow the band will make their way to the next hotel and rest. Y/N let them all have time as a band, refusing Viv’s offer to join them and went upstairs to her room for an early night. 
However, that didn’t quite go to plan. She couldn’t settle and decided that she would go for a short walk instead. She had a few hours before the hotel locked up for the night. Going downstairs, she hadn’t realised how stressed out she looked. The disagreement with Joe running through her head. As she left the lift, she saw Sav about to get in. When he saw her appearance however, he stopped her.
“Where’re you going?” He asked her, putting his hand on her arm in an attempt to comfort her.
“Just for a walk. I won’t be long.” She smiled at him.
“Mind if I join?” Sav knew there was something bothering her but didn’t know what. He also knew that LA wasn’t the safest alone at night and wanted to make sure she was alright. Y/N nodded at him and allowed him to walk alongside her. Not noticing a pair of eyes watching them leave.
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oddinary4bts · 15 days
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Chasing Cars | Masterpost (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆status: on-going (next update: May 10th, 2024)
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC and others.
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆total word count: 182.2k (lmao my fingers slipped)
☆a/n: I got the idea for this fic just a little over a year ago, following a power outage that lasted for a few days where I live and Jungkook's live where he kept coming back with different outfits (the white dress shirt hit me right in the gut). It took me a long time to write, as I was working on multiple other projects at the same time, but I am so so happy to be ready to share this baby with you guys <3
☆Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing this monster <3 (and for all your encouragement and support)
☆And a special thank you to @wintaerbaer and @btsborahaee for encouraging me and supporting me whenever I screamed to you about this fic
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
➳Teaser (Jungkook pov): the day he met you (1.1k)
You fucking touch her, you're dead.
➳Chapter one: when the Incident happens (11.8k)
Jungkook is Tae's best friend.
➳Chapter two: when Jungkook teases you (10.2k)
You know I hate that nickname.
➳Chapter three: when Valentine's Day happens (13.1k)
You know, Taehyung doesn’t have to know everything.
➳Chapter four: when you and Jeon Jungkook clash (9.5k)
I was just going to say that we should keep this between us.
➳Chapter five: when you have to go back to reality (12.1k)
We just pretend nothing happened, no?
➳Chapter six: when Jungkook hosts his friends over (9.6k)
I really want to kiss you right now.
➳Chapter seven: when doubt makes you question everything (15k)
Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?
➳Chapter eight: when secrets are unveiled in New York (13.5k)
I want you.
➳Chapter nine: when a party makes Jungkook jealous (11.2k)
You make me insane.
➳Chapter ten: when time slips through your fingers (10.1k)
I don’t want to lose you, peach.
➳Chapter eleven: when Jungkook visits Taehyung in Paris (8.4k)
Can’t wait for you to be back.
➳Chapter twelve: when it breaks (7.3k)
I can’t be with you.
➳Chapter thirteen: when it's too late (8.9k)
I have to talk to him.
➳Chapter fourteen: when the truth comes out (12.2k)
We never told each other how we felt.
➳Chapter fifteen: when you find your way back to Jungkook (7.4k)
You came?
➳Chapter sixteen: when Jungkook takes you out on a date (8.5k)
I think I was waiting for you my whole life.
➳Chapter seventeen: when forever awaits you (9k)
Getting to love you is the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.
Drabbles in Jungkook's pov (might add more as the story goes on)
➳Drabble 1: the engagement party (453)
Have fun while it lasts.
➳Drabble 2: after a call in Paris (596)
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
➳Drabble 3: a conversation with his mother (644)
Nothing strengthens a man more than heartbreak.
➳Drabble 4: a conversation with Taehyung (1.1k)
It’s never been like that with her.
☆☆☆☆☆
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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Collide (3)
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Hello everyone!
Before reading this chapter, I would like to point out that what is written here is fiction. Of course no one except Leah and Jordan really know what happened between them and I don't pretend at all to know the truth… No need to send me messages, not necessarily nice in fact, to tell me. And of course, there is no hate here towards Jordan.
Anyway, this chapter is kind of sweat I think and to be honest I didn't know where to stop. The next one while be a little more dark, so enjoy this one :P
In the meantime I wish you a good reading, don't hesitate to leave comments or likes, it’s really encouraging and I love read them.
TW: Angst, lot of fluff I think
PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6 | PART 7
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The London rain has been falling on your head for many minutes when you finally decide to go ring at Leah’s door. Lights are on despite the fact that it’s almost midnight and a few seconds after ringing you realize that you will perhaps pass for a burglar or scare her. When nobody comes to answer you, seems to become a habit, you knock against the front door with your fist, so that you can make yourself heard if she’s upstairs. "Leah?" After a few seconds you hear footsteps coming behind the door and you step back from a step not to find yourself too close to her when she opens the door. Frowned, hair down and dressed in a gray Nike outfit, Leah doesn’t mask her surprise to find yourself in front of her. But before you have time to say anything, Leah closes the door in your face. You didn’t see that one coming. "What the..." you mumble and knock on the door again. "Get out of there Y/N" Leah’s voice comes to you muffled because of the front door, but if you can hear her, it probably means it’s not very far right? You go up the stairs and lean against the front door, so that she can hear you perfectly. "I just want to talk. Please" you add when she doesn’t answer you. But it’s still silence that answers you and you knock again at the door while calling her. This time Leah says nothing and you automatically go down steps backwards, so that you can look at the facade of the building. You don’t see Leah’s silhouette anywhere behind a window, which means she’s either back in her living room or she’s still behind the door. Anyway, she doesn’t seem to want to talk to you. You are disappointed, you can’t pretend otherwise. But maybe you should have prepared yourself for this possibility.
Leah seems to resent you very much and you understand her perfectly. To hide nothing, you also resent yourself. You shouldn’t have let your ex settle into your head at the worst time, hurting Leah at the same time when she’s probably the top one in the top three people you think of during the day.
You mechanically wipe the rain on your face and sigh softly as you return to your car. You don’t see yourself trying to climb the hedge hiding the garden to look at the living room through the window, it’s a little too intrusive in your eyes. But as you open your car door, you suddenly change your mind. It’s leaking and leaving that twice took you away from Leah and it’s out of question that it happens a third time.
From behind her window curtain however, Leah quietly watched you leave her house’s steps, relieved and disappointed at the same time. She went back to her couch when she saw you go back to your car. So she was very far from expecting to hear you knock again at the door, with more strength and determination than until now. Leah jumps and sighs when she hears your voice rising again, urging her to open you.
"Fuck off" Leah screams from her couch.
"Not until I talk to you" you answer and stop knocking on the door.
When silence answers you again, you hold a sigh and decide instead to speak again.
"I’m not leaving until we talk, Leah."
"Stay and I call the cops."
"Try me" you answer with determination.
Since she doesn’t answer you again, you sit on her doormat, your back leaning against the front door. You are half sheltered from the rain by a small ledge but you decide that you don’t give a shit. The bad news, however, is that the rain is cold, which starts to numb your fingers after about thirty minutes. The good news is that despite her threat, Leah doesn’t seem to have called the police.
You have lost track of time when you hear the door gently opening behind you, bringing a wave of heat and light on you. You’ve had plenty of time to get lost in your thoughts, taking you back to a gloomy time of late adolescence in Norway. But the difficult images quickly fade when your eyes rise on Leah’s face.
She remains silent and a few moments pass before she opens the door bigger and steps back, offering you to join her inside. You hurry in, in case she decides to change her mind.
"Thanks"
You shiver when you get rid of your shoes to not dirty and soak Leah’s house, but you decide to push these sensations into a corner of your head to face the blonde. The look stern and the clenched jaw, she observes you while always keeping silence.
"Above all I wanted to apologize" you start while looking at her, her piercing blue eyes making difficult to sustain her gaze. But you do. "I was stupid to do what I did, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I should have done it differently and— I don’t know. At least I shouldn’t have left like I did."
You don’t know which sentence triggered this, but the coldness of Leah’s eyes seems to have descended into her voice when she finally speaks.
"You could have chosen another explanation to make me understand that you are not interested in me"
"It’s not that I’m not interested" you answer, slightly frowning in your turn.
You look at her, hesitating for a few seconds. You are not the type to give yourself easily on your emotions or the feelings you have, especially to the person concerned. But you know that if you don’t do it now, any possibility between you and Leah will no longer exist. This is your last chance.
"The truth is, I’m too interested in you. And it scares me."
Even though you found an observation point somewhere above Leah’s shoulder and your voice is just a whisper, you know that Leah heard what you just said perfectly. There is no noise around you, no TV on and the sound of passing cars is not heard through the windows.
"Do you remember what I told you about Jordan when we talked on your balcony?"
The question makes you turn your attention to her and you feel your heart sinking. You remember it perfectly and you quickly make the connection with your own behavior.
"You told me she was just gone" you whisper without taking your eyes off her. "I'm sorry."
Despite Leah’s different negative emotions right now, she seems relieved to see that you quickly understand what she wanted you to realize. You feel like shit. It’s a good thing you didn’t realize this before, because you probably wouldn’t even come knocking on her door to try to reconcile.
"Let me make it up to you?"
"How?"
Leah seems skeptical and you can understand why. You haven’t yet all the perfectly established plans in your head when you answer, biting your lower lip. But you shoot your shot.
"One date, just you and me. If you have a good time, I get a second."
You feel like you’re hearing Leah’s boiling brain as she thinks and you’re more or less patiently waiting for her answer. No, actually you’re so nervous you’re holding back from throwing yourself at her feet to beg her.
"What if I have a bad time?"
"You can leave when you want" you answer, shrugging.
Leah looks at you thoughtfully a few more moments before she sighs and uncross her arms, letting them fall on either side of her body.
"Okay. But this is your last chance."
********
"Less, I think I’m gonna throw up" you mumble in your phone, waiting for Leah to get out of her house.
"Relax, I’m sure you’ll be fine."
Alessia’s soothing and sweet voice calms you down a bit and that’s especially why you called her instead of someone else. Leila would probably have laughed at you, Laia would have teased you… And Ingrid is currently playing somewhere on a Spanish pitch, winning another game with Barcelona.
Preparing this date was a real headache for you who doesn’t know London particularly well, while Leah grew up there and probably knows the city like the back of her hand. Not to mention that you didn’t give yourself much time to prepare it, but in your defense you were afraid that Leah would change her mind and suddenly refuse to accompany you somewhere. You tried to book a table at "Clos Maggiore" which is apparently known to be the most romantic restaurant in London, but the waiting list is longer than your arm.
You googled things like "Romantic Date Ideas in London" before you realized all these places were probably full of people and tourists. And you don’t particularly want to end up with fifty other people in a London Eye bubble.
"Will you let me know how it went?" asks Alessia, bringing you back to earth.
"Yeah" you just answer nervously. "She's here, I hang up now Less"
"Okay. Talk to you later"
"Bye"
You hang up when Leah locks her door and turns to you. Luckily, the sky is clear today. You smile at the blonde, briefly wondering how to greet her before deciding to kiss her cheek. She lets you and you hurry to open her door to get her into your car.
"Where are we going?" Leah asks, watching the street pass by.
"You’ll see" you answer with an small smile.
Despite your nervousness, you try to launch a topic of conversation that will allow you to relax the atmosphere a little. You get it by passing a tourist spot in London, leading Leah to tell you some of the memories she may have had through the years.
During your conversations, you learned that she was also interested in painting. So, when you learned that a temporary exhibition of a painter you talles about was being organized over the next two weeks, you didn’t hesitate long. It was like it was made on purpose. The tickets being limited, you were lucky enough to have two for you and Leah.
Judging by the blonde’s smile when she finds herself face to face with the poster of the exhibition, you can tell you had a good idea. In fact, she doesn’t hesitate to smile at you.
"Not bad"
You smile back, deeply relieved. And you will be even more so when you see that the conversations are relaxing more and more between you, having very often the same vision of the paitings presented to you. You slightly jump when feeling Leah’s hand on your arm to train towards the next painting at some point in the evening, but you quickly recover. This obviously didn’t escape Leah however.
It’s only two hours later that you come out to see that the night has enveloped London.
"Are you hungry?" You ask Leah when you turn to her.
"I am, I am."
"Perfect. Come on."
This time it’s you who grab her arm to train her in the direction of your car. Leah enters without flinching, questioning you about your Grandfather during the journey. She apparently didn’t forget that it was him who introduced you to the painting’s world.
You stop your car a bit on the heights of London, a place that apparently offers a breathtaking view of the city. And that’s true.
You planned to sit in the trunk of your car if the weather was bad, but since it’s rather clear, you take out a blanket and the picnic basket that you prepared in the afternoon. It’s nothing special, but you just wanted to do things right tonight.
After eating your sandwiches - ham for Leah naturally - you lie down to observe the stars. One of your hands went under your head, but the second one is between you and Leah. As you talk, you gently caress Leah’s fingers with yours. Realizing that she doesn’t move, you take your courage with both hands to intertwine them, sighing of relief when you feel that Leah start stroking your hand with her thumb.
Under the pretext of hearing her better, you put yourself on your side, although in truth it’s mainly to be able to better look at her. Even if you suspected it, the realization hits you hard at this moment. You are deeply in love with Leah. Her blond hair flying in the wind, her blue eyes, her smile, her laughter and even the wrinkles that appear on her face when she laughs and smiles.
After midnight, you park your car in the covered parking lot of your building. You quickly put your things in your apartment, before crossing the hallway and going to Alessia’s. The blonde is already installed in her bed when you enter her room to let you fall next to her, slipping under the covers.
"So?" she asks while resting her phone on the bed.
"I got a second date" you answer, grinning.
********
For the second date, you decided to take Leah to a restaurant that just opened, located right between your two homes. What attracted you is that the tables are separated from each other by curtains, offering you the necessary privacy. After that evening, Leah resumed her normal hours of therapy and training, making you cross paths again on a daily basis.
On the third date, when you take her home, Leah offers to extend the evening by coming to drink something at her place. Of course, you agree. Every extra second you spend with her is a little extra. You kept Alessia, Ingrid, Laia and Leila up to date on your progress about Leah and you. If Leila asked you to be careful, Ingrid advised you to listen to your hunches. And you’re pretty sure Leah enjoys your time together as much as you do, so you continue.
There are physical touches between the two of you, based on intertwined hands or timid strokes, but nothing more for the moment. Which is ok since you want to take your time with her.
"What do you want to drink?" Leah asks as she walks into her kitchen.
"Same thing as you"
Leah comes back with two beers, sitting next to you on the couch to turn on the television. It quickly turns out to be just a background noise, Leah and you finding yourself again caught in a conversation. If these dates have taught you anything, it’s how well you get along.
"I was wondering something" Leah said after you laughed in tears at an anecdote about the blonde’s childhood.
"Tell me?" you answer with a smile, keeping your eyes on her.
"At the party in your apartment, at your stupid drinking game, you said you had three girls"
"Mh. Four now" you precise, leaning your gaze on her, thinking about your kiss.
Leah smiles and rolls her eyes before continuing.
"Were you talking about being in a relationship with her? Because so far you’ve only mentioned your ex from Norway and Alina"
If you shiver when you hear about your first girlfriend, you slap yourself mentally to focus on Leah’s question.
"Oh no, I’ve only been in a relationship with both of them. Why?"
"I was wondering if you’ve been in a relationship with one of your teammates in Manchester."
"Oh, no, not at all. The third person was before Alina. The tattooist who tattooed me in the back."
An amused laugh escapes from Leah hearing this information and you can only smile back.
"This is the most cliché thing I’ve ever heard. You slept with your tattooist?" Leah keeps laughing.
"What? She was so sweat and tender and kind of hot" you defend yourself by shrugging your shoulders, an amused smile always displayed on your face.
"So cliché"
Leah’s answer makes you laugh again as Leah was always laughing, before a little silence settles between you.
"Was she hotter than me?"
Leah’s question, posed with an arched eyebrow and her famouse smirke makes you smile. You have no hesitation in the answer you give her.
"No one is sexier than you"
You don’t know if that’s the answer Leah was looking for, but the way she looked at you after that would probably be enough to knock you over. Instead, you gently slide your fingers across her face. You know what this moment will lead you to, but you nevertheless take the time to cross her eyes again in search of a consent on her part. She made no attempt to stop you, looking at you like you’re the only thing that’s matter. Leah never tries to kiss you again and you’re convinced it’s because of the two times you’ve pushed her away. So it makes sense that you take the first step this time.
And this time, when you lips connect, it feels different. Good different. Naturally just as pleasant and ennobling as the first times, but there is no alcohol abuse, no one around you or anything that would prevent you from enjoying this kiss.
It’s just you and Leah.
The blonde soon answers your kiss, her hands sliding on your body to bring you closer to her. First tender and delicate, your embrace becomes more passionate and deep when the kisses are chained. You don't want to stop, these sensations that you have never experienced until now quickly becoming addictive.
It’s Leah who stops first this time, a few minutes after lying on her couch to have better access to you.
"We have to stop now, or we’re going to pass the Take it slow that we fixed"
You make a pouty face when you hear her, making her laugh gently before kissing your cheek. But you know that’s the truth.
"You’re right" you sigh softly. "I better go"
"You’d better" confirms Leah without moving.
In truth, you need several more minutes and kisses to finally get off each other. Leah gently walks you to the front door and even to your car. The street is deserted but you prefer not to tempt the devil by kissing her one last time.
"Hey Y/N?" said Leah, leaning over your window when you start your car. "Next date is on me."
********
When the Christmas holidays arrive, you and Leah continued to share moments just for the two of you, exchanging many kisses during those moments, but never anything more. It has almost arrives several times, but one of you has always managed to find reason quickly enough. You don’t really know what signal you both expect, but you’re still on the same page and that’s all that matters. You both want your first time to be perfect.
Your bond and what’s going on between you is hard to hide in everyday life, so most of your teammates know. Alessia has always been your confidante about Leah anyway, and so has Lia on the blonde side. Manuela, Kyra and Katie are having fun teasing you, but even if you act like it annoys you, it’s not really the case. You can’t get mad at something that makes you happy like you’ve never been before.
Christmas is coming, it’s time for you to go back to Norway and find your family. You first thought about taking an Uber to the airport, before Leah scoled you and said it was her job to take you there. You took the time to help Alessia puts her impressive mountain of suitcases in her car before she left for the east of England with her family, before taking the road to the airport.
You are a little sad to be separate with Leah to be truth, her daily closeness being something you were more than used to. For her part, the blonde will spend her holidays with her family, as usual. But she also seems elsewhere during the trip, a silence settling in her car.
After checking in your luggage, you wait as long as possible before passing the security, just to extend your time with Leah. You didn’t put a label on your relationship, neither of the two having asked the other officially if she wanted to be her girlfriend.
But when it’s time for you to part with Leah if you don’t want to miss your plane, the hug you exchange leaves no doubt to the people around you. You smile softly as you feel Leah burying her face in your neck and hair, the same gesture she had the times she woke up after you fall asleep together.
"Be good while I’m gone, Williamson" you whisper, your hands fondling her back tenderly.
"I’m going to spend Christmas disguised as a camel. Can’t be any wiser"
You laugh when you hear her answer you, her voice muffled by your hair. You thought you never laughs so much when Leah told you about her idea of dressing up with her brother for their family reunion but it was before you saw the dressing up in itself. You feel Leah smile against your skin as she hears you and she ends up backing her forehead against yours.
"You too, be wise"
"Always" you smile maliciously.
Leah rolls with her eyes amused, but you feel like there’s something else. You just have to lean your head slightly to the side and question her with your eyes to get her to confides in you. God how much you like the ease of communication you both fell into.
"You’re not planning on going to a tattoo parlor, are you?"
You quickly understand what it is, Leah asked you several questions about this one night story with the tattoo artist. You don’t know why she seems more intrigued by this story than the one you had with your first girlfriend, you sometimes wonder if she realized that this is a particularly sensitive subject that you don’t feel ready to discuss with her yet.
"No" you smile softly as you caress her face. "The only drawings I might have on my skin are those of my little cousins"
"Perfect" mumbles Leah, before she pulls you against her to kiss you. You are not the type to have this kind of behavior in public, but it’s an exceptional event. So you respond to her kiss, putting your hands around her neck. You wish you could add something like "I’m yours" but you feel like it’s too soon. Yet you don’t see how you could look at someone else since you have her.
******** You promised to call once a day during your absence, but it quickly turns into several calls, usually one in the morning and one at the end of the day before you fall asleep. Not to mention the many messages exchanged, causing many teasing from your family. Even if you blush every time, you don’t deny, what would you? You’ve always been good at hiding things, but you don’t want to hide something that makes you so happy. You had the right to be the first to see Leah and Jacob dressed as camels and you sent Leah the tattoos your cousins drew with their pens on your arms. You also took advantage of being there at the same time as Ingrid to spend a day with her, for the first time both of them in a very long time. Usually Mapi is around, but with her injury it was impossible for her to fly. This didn’t stop you from doing a FaceTime with her while waiting for your lunch order. She also teased you about your relationship with Leah, pretending you couldn’t choose worse than that. You answered her by threatening to forbid Ingrid to see her again and then the three of you joked about a vacation idea for the four of you. Despite the fact that you miss Leah a little more every day, you have to admit to having a really good time. To see your parents again, to become their little girl again is pleasant to you. To be pampered like a child of eight years by your mother too.
But, when your plane starts its descent on London after a trip of several hours, you are more than happy to find your daily life. This holiday was a pleasant parenthesis to allow you to find yourself a little and confirm some things that you already knew. The strength of your feelings for Leah in particular, the pleasure of finding your teammates became your friends and also the lack of playing football. You tried hard to follow the holiday practices concocted by the staff, unlike some of your teammates. You can’t help but laugh when Manuela looks away guiltily when Jonas asks if everyone has respected their schedule.
Leah is waiting for you outside the airport, with a bouquet of flowers and her beautiful smile. Without really thinking, you throw yourself in her arms and put your lips on hers to seal your reunion. Surprised by your outpouring, Leah steps back a few steps but smiles against your lips as she hugs you.
"Hum. Meet my brother" she smirkes when you detach yourself from her.
The boy smiles at you, amused, and you blush like a tomato before greeting him in your turn. Needless to say, you absolutely didn’t notice him. He insists on carrying your suitcases to their car, Leah explaining to you on the way why she ends up with a bouquet of camellias instead of red roses as she had wanted in the first place. A vague story of season flowers that you listen to with fun, resisting somehow the desire to stick you against her while you walk.
So that you can get to know her brother, Leah makes you sit in the front seat of the car while she sits in the back, her brother taking the wheel. You gladly answer his questions about your native country before asking him about Australia.
You went there during the World Cup, but living there must be different. It quickly becomes apparent that having a conversation with Jacob is as easy as if you had known each other for a long time. When he drops you at your apartment, he teases both to stay wise which is worth an hit on the shoulder from Leah.
Back in your apartment, you smile while finding the familiar smell and your things deposited where they should be. Leah closes the door behind you and puts her arms around your waist, laying a kiss in your neck that makes you shiver.
"Hi" she whispers and you hear her smile.
"Hi" you answer back after turning in her arms.
You wish you could tell her how much you missed her, but your words quickly get stuck in your throat when her nose slips over yours. You will probably never get used to the closeness of her face with yours and the ease with which you can lose yourself in her eyes.
The kiss you exchange right after is different from the others. It certainly celebrates your reunion, but there is more than that. When it ends with your lack of air, the way you look at the other makes you understand that it’s now. The good time. You have no doubt when you drag Leah into your room and even less when she closes the door behind you.
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yuna542 · 10 months
Text
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›Bad Idea<
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Pairing: Hong Woojin × Reader
Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Enemies with benefits to Lovers
Warnings: 18+, explicit Smut, under 18 DNI!, Fem!Reader, suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names,, hate sex, ANGST, overstimulation, thigh riding
Word Count: 8.5k
Note: That’s the last Part of a Story that I really enjoyed writing. No worries I‘m already working on another Story about Bloodhounds. The chokehold these guys have on me is unreal… Hope you liked the Story. Comments, Likes and Reblogs are always a blessing. Stay healthy and much love! ~Sky
Summary: As Gunwoo‘s little sister he wanted you to finally meet his best friend. Unfortunately you don't get along. He gets on your nerves, you fight all the time and yet you can't stop messing with each other. One evening you get into a dangerous situation and end up bruised and bloody at his apartment. And you suddenly have to ask yourself: Why do you feel so attracted to that idiot?
Chapter 7:
The Secret
The very next evening you were waiting in front of his apartment and when he saw you there, he frowned.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, and you braced yourself from the wall you had been leaning against.
"I'm bored," you said monotonously, and his gaze was already glued to the hem of your short skirt.
"So what?"
"Wanna fuck?"
"Sure."
Already you stumbled into his apartment, ripped the clothes from each other and between heated kisses and greedy touches, you threw aside your cell phone where Gunwoo tried to call.
A few hours later you came moaning on top of him as you rode his dick. As he painted your walls white with a hand around your neck, pressing you onto his throbbing dick, you climbed off of him and snuggled up to him.
"You know..fucking you almost made me reconsider whether i hate you or not," he said, pulling you into his arms and leaning his chin into the crook of your neck as he stroked his fingers over your bare stomach.
"Oh really? What's the verdict?" you asked, wiggling even closer to his chest. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and his hair tickled your neck as he did so, making you giggle.
"Hmm..nope not even a little less."
A little offended, you turned around so you could face him. You pouted and stroked your fingers down his chest.
"Not even a little? Let's see if we can change that... Round two?"
Your suggestive smile and the way you raised an eyebrow made him smirk. The warmth in his eyes enveloped you and you never wanted to get out of his bed again if he stayed here with you.
"If you're asking me that naked and all sexy, I don't think I can resist," he replied charmingly, stroking the contours of your face as if it were an expensive sculpture he couldn't get enough of.
You winced with a chuckle as he pinched your side and pulled you closer again. Your lips collided and you kissed him until you couldn't breathe.
That's exactly how it went every time.
You were still a trio. You Gunwoo's annoying little sister and Woojin the chaotic good-for-nothing best friend. You argued, pounced at each other and never missed an opportunity to show that you didn't like each other.
But as soon as you were alone, you leaped upon each other.
The fact that your meetings were a secret between you made it even more exciting.
You slept together all the time. The smallest arguments made you tear off your clothes and throw yourselves on each other, fucking in heat and with no hesitation. It was the best sex you ever had and you were actually happy when you were with him.
However, it didn't go unnoticed for long. It started one night when Gunwoo was looking for a movie in Woojin's room to borrow from him and instead pulled out your black lace bra from between his pillows. That combined with the scratch marks that were increasingly reflected on Woojin's back, and was mockingly acknowledged by his training partners, Gunwoo put one and one together.
"Who is it? Who is this girl? Are you together?"
He had been bugging Woojin until he admitted that there was indeed someone. However, he would die before he told him that it was his sister.
"So like... Do you like her or something?", he asked out of nowhere a few months later as he helped Woojin train. He held the punching bag and looked at his friend, who froze in motion.
"Why would you think that? How could you think that?" asked Woojin, the sweat on his forehead doubling.
"Because you keep daydreaming and you barely have time outside of training... You must spend a lot of time with her," he said and Woojin shook his head as he punched a little stronger than necessary.
"We're just fucking. Nothing special. I don't even like her, actually."
Gunwoo had nodded, wanting to let the subject go. After all, he didn't understand it anyway. Woojin was so secretive that he didn't want to bug him further. Still, Woojin kept talking, between strained gasps as he punched the punching bag:
"I don't know. Really. This has been going on for a while now. The sex is incredible, but she keeps driving me crazy. We can't be in the same room without me getting restless and my heart jumping out of my chest."
The younger one pressed his lips together and tried to stifle a knowing smile. Later, as they sat together on the rooftop, winding down the day with protein shakes and fresh dumplings, Woojin said:
"I think I have come to a conclusion".
Gunwoo looked at him and asked with his mouth full, "Which is?"
"I am allergic to her"
He snorted in disbelief and choked on his shake.
"Wait... what?" escaped him between gasps and coughs.
But Woojin just nodded insistently, "I am allergic to her..."
It was almost like being in a bad romance movie. You couldn't be with or without each other. Endless arguments over the stupidest things every day, that ended with the most amazing sex every night. One minute you were ready to kill each other and the next you were sneaking off to have sex.
No matter when and no matter where.
You were addicted to each other and at this point, you could say you were only arguing and maybe even using each other just to fuck. You tried everything to keep it a secret from your brother. But you also became careless as time passed.
Finally, in addition to your underwear, he found a shirt that he had given you, where you had left it in Woojin's bed. Of course, he had recognized it immediately and before Woojin could explain anything, Gunwoo snapped and had given him a strong punch in the face.
He was furious that you had kept it a secret from him for so long and he was very very stunned that such a thing had happened behind his back all this time.
Now Woojin sat on your couch and you pressed a bag of frozen peas on the bridge of his swollen nose.
"He got you pretty good..." you said affectedly, and you felt guilty. After all, you were partly to blame.
Gunwoo and Woojin had randomly come in, Woojin had bled all over your apartment after your brother had hit him unannounced in the middle of the nose, and after that he had brought him here to have someone take care of his bloody nose and most likely to confront you.
Since then, your brother had been pacing back and forth in front of you, trying to calm himself down. He could have guessed it. At the latest when Woojin was so interested that one afternoon. Gunwoo and he had made ramen on the roof of his apartment. A little ritual where they just chatted and let the training day end.
"I can't stand it at home anymore," he sighed, dropping into the chair next to Woojin.
"What's wrong?" asked Woojin, stirring the pot.
"Y/N's girlfriend is visiting and they talk all day! Without a break and I have to listen to everything even in my room... They're so loud!", he sighed exhaustedly and Woojin patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.
"Even in the kitchen, you're not safe from the chatter... I hear things really I don't want to know."
Interested, Woojin raised his eyebrows and paused.
"What do you mean? What are they talking about?"
"Don't make me remember," Geonwoo sighed, and that's when his best friend elbowed him in the side.
"You can't start and then not tell the details."
Gunwoo stretched, groaning, as if the coming words would cause him physical pain.
"I suspected she was seeing someone. She's rarely home. Sneaks at her room abnormally early in the morning and lately she's even humming when she's working at the store. It's really creepy by now," he began, and Woojin had to bite his tongue to keep from grinning widely.
"Anyway, I overheard her talking about it with her friend in the kitchen. She said it was the best sex of her life, but wouldn't say with whom..."
Gunwoo shook himself in disgust and took over stirring the ramen. The corners of Woojin's mouth slowly lifted and he tried not to ask too suspiciously.
"Best sex of her life? That's what she said?"
"Yeah... It was disgusting enough, can you please not repeat it?" he asked and Woojin nodded quickly, though he would have loved to hear more. Inwardly, he was as happy as a little kid who got an ice cream cone as a reward for a good grade.
Even as he had beamed the rest of the evening, Gunwoo had suspected nothing. You could both see how sorry he was. He really hadn't meant to hurt Woojin. But it had also been wrong of you to lie to him for so long.
The two most important people in his life had lied to him for months and abused his trust.
"Gunwoo..." you began carefully, meekly, but he interrupted you:
"No! Don't! I'm not angry... But I can't be around you right now. I need to focus on the fight."
That came on top of it, too. Gunwoo had an important fight in the next few days that he had been training for for months.
"That's okay. Talk to me when you're ready, bro. I'm gonna go now...", Woojin said and stood up.
He looked at the peas in confusion and held the bag out to you a bit dorkily.
"You can keep those," you said in an occupied voice, and he nodded. When he disappeared through the door, you stood up too and gave your brother a worried look.
He ruffled his hair and ran both hands wearily through his face.
Chapter 8:
The Date
Over the next few days, things calmed down a bit. Gunwoo seemed to come to terms with it. At least he didn't mention it anymore. At his boxing match, you were both there cheering him on. The friendship between the two boxers was too strong after all and the they needed each other. They were inseparable and even you couldn't destroy that.
Later that day you celebrated his victory and while you ate pork belly, laughed and carelessly spent time together as before, your guilty conscience gradually faded away. Before you could say goodbye to Woojin in front of the restaurant and run home with Gunwoo, he held you back by the hand.
Questioningly, you looked up at him and that's when Gunwoo said:
"I'll go ahead and wait for you."
Gratefully, you gave him a curt look, which he returned with a smile before walking out of earshot.
"He's not mad at us anymore. That's good," Woojin said, kicking a pebble into the road.
"What's wrong?" you asked curiously, watching him squirm around for a while before he managed to look you in the eye.
"Do you want to do something tomorrow?"
You furrowed your eyebrows in wonder.
"Sure. I can come over if..."
"No... Not just to fuck. I'd like to spend time with you. Outside, get something to eat, and then go to the park?"
Completely perplexed, your mouth was open and you looked at him as if he'd suggested you jump off a cliff.
"The weather is supposed to be nice..."
Since you didn't answer, he became more and more uncertain. You looked for sarcasm or some malice, but nothing came. He just looked nervous. He cursed himself and swallowed hard as he stared at the floor. Why the hell was he so restless?
"Nevermind. That was a stupid idea. Just forget about it," he dismissed it, wanting to turn around and just disappear.
Unconsciously, you grabbed his sleeve and he turned back to you. Confused, yet with hope in his eyes that sprouted like the first snowdrops in spring.
"No. That's a nice idea. Will you pick me up?"
His face lit up and he scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"Uh, yeah. At two?"
"I'll help out at the store until three, then we can get going."
"Sounds good."
Silently, you just looked at each other. Nothing around you seemed to matter. The traffic, the people pushing past you on the sidewalk, and even the cloud pushing in front of the sun.
"See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," you repeated, and as soon as you caught up with Gunwoo, your cheeks glowed and your stomach did flips. He said nothing. He just smiled and put an arm around your shoulders as you turned into the street to your apartment.
While you waited for Woojin to pick you up, the same question played incessantly in your mind:
Was that a date?
Something inside you hoped so. As you took off your apron and checked your hair in the mirror, you heard the store door and Woojin's voice.
You almost cried out, you were so tense.
You had put on some makeup, were wearing a red summery dress because you knew that was his favorite color, and when you heard how happy your mom was about his visit, you felt warm. When you stepped out into the store, his eyes were immediately on you. His face lit up and his eyes wandered endlessly along your curves.
"Hey..." you said a little meekly.
"Hey. You look beautiful," he said, not knowing what to do with his hands. It was weird not meeting just to sleep with each other.
"Thanks... You too," you replied, and he really did. He was wearing ripped jeans and a tank top, so you could probably stare at his muscular arms all day. Your mom was obviously surprised by the sudden niceness between you and looked back and forth, puzzled.
"Shall we?" he asked, and you nodded. Before you could say goodbye to your mom, she came rushing out from behind the counter and thrust a bag into your hand.
"There's a little snack in there. Have a nice day," she said, placing a hand affectionately on Woojin's cheek before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"Thank you very much Mrs Kim." he said enthusiastically and it was heartwarming how happy he was. You knew by now that he didn't have a very good relationship with his parents. That's why he looked up to your mother and enjoyed the affection she gave him.
As soon as you walked side by side through the streets, directly towards the park, a strange silence spread. It was completely absurd to spend time with Woojin without arguing. Birds were chirping and the park was decorated like a painting in various shades of green.
On the way, you picked up an iced coffee and eventually chatted as if it were a normal thing to be together. Only without Gunwoo. It was new how much you laughed even just the two of you and before you knew it half the day was over.
In the park, you spread out your jackets and lay down under a tree, through whose branches scattered rays of sunlight hit the earth and warmed your faces.
Although you thought it was supposed to be weird, it seemed perfectly normal as he put an arm around you and you snuggled up to him. You ate the donuts your mom had packed for you and teased each other until you fought over the last piece.
He may have been a good boxer, yet you were winning. At least that's what you thought as you proudly shoved the last piece into your mouth and he watched you, fondly smiling.
After a while, watching the sky, you asked:
"What do we do now?"
He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at you.
"What do you mean?“
"I mean, what is it between us?" you asked, as that question circled you over and over.
"I think we're friends?"
Friends? Was that really the right word? Did you want you guys to just be friends? You tried to tell yourself it was so perfect. With no obligations, no extra thoughts, if everything just stayed the way it was. But it felt wrong and something in you resisted it. By now you were sure: you wanted more than that.
You just didn't know what. You wanted more days like this, where you laughed together, got talked about nonsense, looked together in the sky. You even wanted more fights and arguments, if that meant falling into bed with him at the end of the day.
"Friends who sleep together regularly?"
"Exactly..."
He played with a strand of your hair and wrapped it around his finger, lost in thought. You looked up at him and his absent look made you suspicious. It was as if he wanted to say something, but didn't dare. You intertwined your fingers with his and leaned your cheek against his chest.
A couple with a dog walked by, talking animatedly.
The sudden silence became more serious than either of you wanted. You indulged your thoughts and it was almost intimate as you enjoyed the last rays of the day's sunshine snuggled together.
"I'm sure you have other people you can sleep with. You have the pretty face for it," you said to lighten the serious mood. You didn't want to deal with what could be.
What if he really just saw you as a friend? Someone to blow off steam with, but nothing more. But then why had he brought you here today, and why had the day been so nice? Was he already bored having sex with you?
"Additionally, you're a possessive little freak, but it's very endearing," you added, and he grinned in amusement.
"But I only want you."
Stunned, you looked at him and when your eyes locked, it took your breath away.
"I've gotten too attached to you already," he added quickly.
Woojin flashed another, kindly mocking grin. Teasing, as ever. He tried to keep it light. Better that than wanting too much, knowing he would never get it.
You averted your eyes again and followed the couple, arm in arm, as they watched their dog run across the park.
Was that disappointment squeezing the air out of your lungs?
"What about you?"
"Huh?"
You played with the hem of his tank top, and he slid his hand down your sides until it was firmly against your hip.
"Why do you put up with me? You obviously can't stand me. So why?"
You didn't dare look at him, afraid he might read your true thoughts and feelings from your face.
"The sex is good," you murmured, and that's when he looked up at the sky and laughed, chuckling and your body shivered excited.
"Is that all it is? Then why did you come today?"
So many questions you didn't know the answer to. You didn't know why you agreed, you just knew you wanted to. You wanted to spend time with him outside of your bed or his room.
Why wasn't clear to you.
"I don't want anyone else either. I may have started to like you," you finally blurted out and he thought his heart would burst.
"Really?"
He looked at you incredulously and straightened up a bit. Immediately you blushed with shame. All this could not be, but you could not lie. Your body betrayed you anyway.
"Stop staring at me like that, creep!" you drove at him and pushed him so that he fell on his back and looked into the leaves with a smile.
"I don't believe it... Did Y/N Kim really just admit that she likes me?" he gasped, running both hands through his hair as if you had just revealed to him that you could fly.
Immediately, you regretted being so honest with him and rolled your eyes in annoyance.
"Shut up. I said maybe. You just ruined it again," you grumbled and crossed your arms. Why did he have to be so annoying anyway?
You felt vulnerable and that was a scary feeling.
Woojin sat up again and when he saw your tense expression and the sadness you were trying to hide behind a carefree mask, the grin died.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and turned you so that you were looking at him. Then he pulled you to the floor with him until you were on top of him, his leg between your thighs, pulling you into a deep kiss.
He was gentle, loving, running his hands down your sides and letting his tongue slide over your lower lip as light as a feather. By now he didn't care at all that you were in the middle of public.
Especially when your lips were too kissable and he just wanted to litter you with kisses all day.
You buried your fingers in his hair and melted in his arms as you opened your lips and he slid his tongue into your mouth. This time, it wasn't a contest. Not a race either of you wanted to win. You were moving in unison.
Your body was made for him as he curved perfectly into his. The kiss was more intimate than anything before and full of tenderness.
You could feel his heartbeat and it was reassuring that it was racing just like yours.
Between kisses, you felt him smile and pull you closer by the hips in a demanding way. He ran his hands under your shirt, over your back, so that his fingers left a trail of heat on your soft skin.
When he lifted his leg between your thighs and brushed against your middle, you gasped involuntarily into his mouth. You almost couldn't help rocking your hips just a little. You were desperate for some sort of friction and relief. Just hearing his voice, his body so close to yours, made you tense. You began to slowly rock and sway your hips, letting out small groans and pants.
As your fingers pulled at his hair, he moved his thigh teasingly and gave more pressure directly on your covered cunt. Immediately you got wet and the desire made you roll your hips against his leg.
Embarrassed, you bit your lower lip as he bobbed his leg and grinned as he felt you heatedly rubbing your cunt against him.
"Look at you... All desperate and needy. And in public," he whispered in your ear and you whimpered softly as he rubbed his thigh harder against your cunt.
To outsiders it just looked like a couple cuddling and whispering loving words to each other.
"Woojin I can't...," you murmured tensely and he watched as your lustful face tried to keep its composure.
"Take what you need, sweetheart," he murmured to you, guiding your hips against his leg with one hand. With the other he pushed your head to the side to kiss your neck.
Time began to stop and you rolled your hips harder against his thigh. The thought that someone could catch you only sent more arousal between your legs and made your skin tingle.
He was peppering kisses down your throat, stopping to suck a pretty red mark over your pulse point.
Every shift of his hips bumped up against your throbbing core and he held you tightly by the hips as you lost yourself in pleasure. Even clothed the drag on your clit was brilliant, you knew you were going to ruin your panties but the orgasm that was coming your way was worth it.
He bounced his leg just right and watched as your hips stuttered slightly and ran one hand under your shirt to knead your breast. Too inconspicuous for anyone else to notice what he was doing, but you felt every little movement so intensely that you buried your face in his neck. With a sharp curse, your hips continued to roll against those muscular thighs and your eyebrows pinched together from the unbelievable pleasure.
Your lips traveling to his collarbone as you squeezed your cunt against him, the friction on your clit sending electricity through you and as he grinded your hips intensely against his thigh a few more times, you came with a gasp and your body trembled on his.
Satisfied, he stroked a few strands of hair out of your forehead as you calmed down and kissed your temple.
"My good girl," the boxer praised, "Do you feel better now, dollface?" he asked and you nodded slowly and sunk against him. You were too sensitive now but your hips continued to roll lazily, trying to chase the powerful release.
"Thank you..." you said and snuggled closer to his chest. He bit your neck gently, then murmured suggestively:
"You can thank me at home with your sweet pussy. After all, it's mine."
You shuddered and your eyes met. Lasciviously you grinned and you played with his waistband.
"Shall we go?"
He nodded and the lust grabbed you like a tornado, pulled you with it and left no hesitation. You walked together to his apartment, your hand firmly on your ass and as soon as you were through the door, you took off your clothes.
You didn't even made it to his bed this time.
Instead, he ended up on top of you on the couch and the romantic kisses got hot and fiery. As soon as you had your underwear off, he said impatiently:
"Turn over! On all fours!"
With glowing cheeks you did as he said and before you could prepare yourself you felt a hand firmly on your hip and him slipping out of his boxers. The sight was intoxicating as you waited on all fours, ready and willing for him. Your elbows and knees were propped up to support your weight.
"Let's see how much my doll can handle."
He licked his lips before pressing his throbbing tip against your entrance, rubbing and tapping. Fear and excitement filled your body, his tip at your entrance stretched you out already and made you gasp.
"Less talking, more fucking", you snapped.
"You little bitch," he laughed and when his tip entered you, your arms weakened immediately.
Your hands gripped tense, into the padding as he thrusted ruthlessly into you, a rasping gasp escaping him.
"Asshole," you hissed, your voice trembling with pain.
"Fuck... You're so hot when you're angry," he moaned with his hands firmly on your hips, he tucked himself deep inside you, giving you no mercy with his vicious movements. Your nosy moan echoed throughout the apartment, but you didn't have enough self-awareness to stop it. His thick cock stretched out your walls so deliciously, your pussy constricted snuggly around him. He groaned at your tightness, wet and warm all around him.
His thrusts were brutally quick, as if he was trying to win a race. Or prove a point. Your eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy as you lost reality. You felt your mind leave your body. You feared your brain would melt and run out of your ears as he slammed into you from behind. You swear you were dangling above yourself. His pelvis slamming against your ass, the sound of skin slapping and the squelching sound of your aching cunt filling the room.
He noticed that you've been almost cumming all over his cock, your tight walls spasming around him. With your lack of oxygen, the world slowly slipped away from you in a lustful haze. Your pussy tightened around his length as your orgasm suddenly waved over you. Your body and mind submerges into a blissful fog as your climax surrounded him. His thrusts became chaotic and messy as he felt your cum soak his cock and you moaned his name incessantly between unholy whimpers. Heavy breathing, hearts racing, muscles trembling, and sweat glistening. You were trapped in your world of lust and passion.
He let you catch your breath for a moment as he turned you around by your hips and pressed a long kiss to your lips.
"Your perfect. So perfect for me. I want that forever. I wish I could have that forever," he said, his voice wavering dangerously.
Your hands were tight against his chest and you wanted to ask what he meant, but you didn't get to as he thrusted into you again incessantly, your nails dug into his muscular shoulders, and the way he fucked you forced uncontrollable sobs from your swollen lips.
You wanted to hide your face against his chest as the next orgasm threatened to tear you apart, but he pushed you back by the shoulder and his eyes bored into yours caught in a swirl of bliss.
"I want to look at your pretty face when I cum," he gasped, and somehow the moment felt final. There was something strange in his eyes and briefly you thought you saw sadness flashing in them.
But then the next orgasm sent you into a bright light until you saw stars.
As soon as your walls clenched around him, he gasped sharply and his lips crashed against yours. He bit your bottom lip and his thrusts became incoherent as he was about to cum.
Simply kissing him in your dizzy state felt euphoric, your insides contracting,
„Fuck." he sucked in a sharp breath "Still so fuckin' tight for me."
You stared overwhelmed into his eyes, they were filled with so much passion instead of lust. But there was something else. Something that weighed heavier. It felt warm, loving and engaging. The word was on the tip of your tongue, but it weighed far too heavy to speak it or even to grasp it in your thoughts. It was a feeling you had only read about in books or seen in movies. Your heart fluttered, his stare was gentle yet his thrusts were rough as he came inside you and his eyes nearly rolling back. By now it felt like he knew your body more than you did. His tip kept on kissing your g spot, causing you to let out stuttering whimpers as he spilled into you.
"Shit..." he huffed, panting heavily. Your chest raised up and down, catching your breath.
Still buried deep inside you, he collapsed on top of you and buried his face in the crook of your neck.
You stroked your fingers along his back, along his tattoo, and he wrapped his arms around your body so tightly that you gasped.
"Woojin... Babe you're crushing me," you chocked and he immediately eased up a bit.
Without further ado, he turned so that you were on top of him, but continued to hold you as if he was afraid you might disappear if he wasn't careful.
He did not pull out of you. With your pussy still squeezing him and sucking him in so good, he just couldn’t.
"I don't want to lose you," he sighed, stroking through your hair. Looking at him a little puzzled, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more behind his words.
"I'm here," you assured him, taking his face in both hands before kissing him lovingly.
"Let's stay like this for a while. You feel so warm," he murmured and you nodded, resting your cheek against his chest. He seemed more affectionate than usual. You also noticed how desperately he'd cling to you: how he'd tightly hold your thighs at his sides, how his fingernails were digging into your skin, how deeply he was trying to bury himself into you. Looking at your flushed face, all tired out, you couldn't look any more beautiful to him even like this. He looked at how you closed your eyes to give your body a break.
He absorbed everything: your expression, your touch, your warmth, your moans, your pussy, and most of all, your affection was his at the moment. The entirety of you was his and his alone and he would not change it for anything.
The next time you looked into his eyes, there was this vulnerability that surprised you. He wanted to say so much and yet he couldn't bring himself to say a word.
He wanted to say how much he wanted you to be his, how much he had fallen in love with you. How he loved everything about you. Your laugh, the angry glint in your eye, every one of your strange mannerisms.
But that wouldn't be fair.
Not when he was soon gone.
Chapter 9:
The Dream:
Just a few days later, you walked through the door at home yawning, wanting nothing but sleep after a tiring late shift at the café.
But when you saw Gunwoo packing his bag through the door gap in his room, you became curious. You went to his room, jumped on his bed and watched him.
"What are you doing? Are you going somewhere today?" you asked, and he was already swinging his bag on his back.
"I'm just going to bring Woojin some things he left here and then help him pack."
Completely confused, you straightened up, slid to the edge of the bed, and asked:
"Packing? For what?"
Now Gunwoo looked at you just as uncomprehendingly.
"Didn't he tell you?"
"Told me what?" you drove at him a little more briskly than you intended.
"Woojin has qualified for the Amateur Boxing Championship in America."
The info threw everything inside you upside down.
"That's great! He's always dreamed of this!" you said excitedly. Gunwoo nodded vehemently.
"If he wins there, both of us might be able to compete in the World Championships soon. Wouldn't that be crazy?" he exclaimed excitedly and you followed him into the hallway where he put on his shoes.
"But what does that mean? When is he going to America? The competitions are taking place in a few months, aren't they?"
Gunwoo looked up at you and replied:
"He got an offer from a famous coach who wants to prepare him for it. He's already leaving this weekend."
"What?" you gasped in disbelief, your throat instantly tightening.
"How long will he be gone?"
"That's still unclear. Half a year until the competition in any case. What happens after that, no one knows yet. If he does well, he can go straight to the next competitions."
As exciting as it sounded, to your ears it was just a disaster. Stunned, you dropped onto the sofa as soon as Gunwoo disappeared. Woojin would be out of your life in just two days, and maybe forever. And he had told you nothing.
All night long you tossed and turned in your bed. Your chest ached at the mere thought of Woojin going to America. At the same time, your guilty conscience paralyzed you.
It was his dream to box in the professional league and it didn't seem so far-fetched now.
When the first rays of sunlight broke through your window, you still hadn't slept a wink. Sighing, you sat up in bed and made a decision. You had to see him. You had to confront him and ask him about it.
So you slipped into your jacket and shoes and left the house early in the morning. Outside his apartment, you took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.
It took a while, but finally he opened the door and looked at you in amazement. Actually, you expected him to look completely sleepy, his hair a mess and sleep still in his eyes like every morning.
He was not an early riser, and yet he stood before you, alert and wide awake.
"What are you doing here at this hour?" he asked, letting you enter. In his living room you understood why he was already awake. There was an open suitcase on the floor and around it were clothes, his passport and other things. So it was true.
You turned to him with a tense heart.
"When do you wanted to tell me?"
He was obviously uncomfortable. Sighing, he ran his hand over his face and that's when you realized how tired he actually was.
"I was going to tell you... But I didn't think you'd care."
Stunned, you walked up to him.
"What, are you serious? You were just going to disappear without saying anything?", your voice automatically became louder and he stubbornly returned your gaze.
Actually, he had been incredibly afraid. Afraid that you really wouldn't care or that you were even happy when he disappeared. That would have broke him.
Since he had received the letter, he had thought of nothing but you. Instead of saying that, he shrugged.
"We're not together."
A lump formed in your throat. Did he really care that little? Your lower lip quivered dangerously, but you forced yourself to remain calm.
"Was it really that meaningless to you? Am I just a fuck toy for you that you could use at will?" you asked, and he would have loved to scream out loud. Would have pulled you into his arms and kissed the hurt expression from your face. But he was scared and frustrated.
He was afraid of what he would do if you rejected him and even more afraid of what he was willing to do if you didn't.
"Do you care, then? Didn't you just use me for your own pleasure? Or else you wouldn't come crawling back to me, begging me to fuck you so good you forget everything else," he drove at you and you took a few steps back as his jaw twitched furiously and he stepped at you.
"What do you want me to say?" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice steady.
You didn't dare give in. The anger, desperation, and frustration mingled into a sickening taste on your tongue. You didn't know why you were so angry. It only hurt to look at him. He was going to leave and there was nothing you could do about that.
"What you feel," he replied, anger reflected in his eyes as well. He hated that he felt that way. That you had done this to him.
He felt trapped in a spider web and every movement only made him sink deeper into it.
"I can't stand you," you replied, and every word hurt like someone was pressing red-hot iron against your skin. Maybe if you denied it, the feeling would go away on its own.
He came even closer, sparkling at you with mesmerising eyes.
"You don't mean that."
"You don't know what i mean," you shot back frantically.
You could see how hurt he was. But you didn't want to ruin his dream by being selfish. If you just told him, that he meant nothing to you, he could leave without wasting another thought about you and live his dream.
That's what you wanted for him and telling him the truth would only make things complicated for him.
"It's okay. Just leave! If I never see your face again, I'll be happy," you shot back at him, something inside you breaking more with each word.
"I wish i never-" but he interrupted you by grabbing your hand.
"Don't say something you don't mean. Don't you dare," he growled, desperately looking for something to prove otherwise.
"Don't you realize? This isn't working. We're going back and forth. When we're not fighting, we're fucking. It doesn't work like that. We're like poison for each other!", you retorted, the shards of what was left in your chest digging deeper and deeper into your flesh.
"You never change, do you? You never fucking change. Always so stubborn; always thinking you're right," Woojin murmured and you wanted to wrap your arms around him, tell him you didn't want to let him go.
But that would be selfish. He should chase his dream without another worry. You wanted him to be happy.
"I wish you all the best Woojin," you said, your voice finally breaking treacherously at his name. You turned quickly so he wouldn't see the first treacherous tears roll down your cheeks.
He sighed in anger before following you.
"Don't fucking walk away from me!"
He grabbed your hand and you pulled back as if he burned you with his touch.
"Stop telling me what to do!" you yelled back at him and he took a few steps back.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe all of this was a mistake. We would never work and all this is a big fucking mess. But please, before you go, tell me to my face that there's nothing between us. That I imagined all of it so I could have closure!"
All you wanted to do was cry and lash out. It felt like you were bleeding to death inside when you said:
"There's nothing there, and there never will be."
Every word was heavy as lead on your tongue and you feared your legs would give out if you looked into his desperate face for one more second. You wanted to tell him that there was so much you felt for him. That you believed you were seriously falling in love, but it would be selfish and dumb.
"All right..." he murmured, and the sadness in his eyes robbed you of the last of your hopes.
"I'm leaving now," you pressed out, and he watched as the door slammed shut behind you.
He didn't know how long he stared at the door, hoping you would come back and end the argument with a kiss, but that didn't happen.
Not this time.
Chapter 10:
The Love
With a curtain of tears obscuring your view, you stumbled home and as soon as you bursted through the door, past the confused Gunwoo, into your room, you collapsed on your bed sobbing.
Every muscle ached and you feared dying from the pain in your chest.
Putting his ear to the door, Gunwoo winced at the heart-wrenching sobs and cautiously walked in.
"Y/N?" he whispered, sitting anxiously at the edge of the bed.
You couldn't form a word, so tense was your body consumed by anger, rage, and grief. You didn't have to.
Gunwoo soothingly placed a hand on your back and pulled you closer until your head rested on his lap. Silently, he stroked your hair soothingly and was just there. Your big secure rock in the painfully raging waters. The anchor that kept you from sinking into the deep black tides of your mind.
For the next few days, you didn't leave your room. You couldn't bring yourself to touch the food your mom put on your nightstand and buried yourself under your covers, hoping you'd never have to leave your bed again.
By Saturday night, Gunwoo had had enough.
You felt the mattress beside you lower as he sat down.
"Woojin's flight leaves in an hour..." he said into the silence, as if you hadn't been counting the minutes.
"Why are you telling me this?" you grumbled into your pillow, trying to ignore the way your heart contracted painfully.
"You should tell him how you feel before it's too late."
Gunwoo's words made you look up, and as you looked at him, you realized he was dead serious.
"What, how.?“
"It's obvious. To everyone but you two idiots. You like each other and I want you to be happy. To do that, you have to tell him how you feel before he's gone."
"It's too late," you howled into your pillow as Gunwoo suddenly yanked the covers off you. The cool air against your bare legs gave you goosebumps.
"What are you doing!" you snapped at him, but he also ripped the pillow from under your head, causing your face to slam into the mattress.
"Get up! I'm taking you to the airport. Now!"
You stared at him, stunned, and slid to the edge of the bed.
"Are you serious?" you asked uneasily, and he was already tossing you a pair of jeans from your closet.
"I've never been more serious! Come on hurry up!"
So you picked yourself up, took new courage and got dressed. Excitedly, you kneaded your hands the entire car ride. At the airport, you already felt so sick that you wanted to throw up.
With Gunwoo, you ran past the many people. Like in an anthill, tons of people were scurrying around. Businessmen with suits, families with a convoys of suitcases, and groups of young people visiting relatives or were on vacation.
Hurriedly, heart pounding, you kept a lookout for Woojin, but he was nowhere to be seen.
"Maybe we're too late," you gasped as Gunwoo stretched his head and kept a lookout. He was taller and thus had a better view.
But there he suddenly pointed to a counter where Woojin was about to walk through the gate.
"There he is!" he shouted. His curly head and broad shoulders clearly set him apart from the other people.
You didn't have to think for a second to sprint. Like a maniac, you pushed past the people, earning indignant stares, but nothing would stop you from reaching him.
"Woojin! Wait!" you shouted, almost running over an old man. You apologized hurriedly and kept running. He turned around in amazement and when he saw you, he took a step out of the crowd.
Your feet seemed not to touch the ground and as soon as you reached him you threw yourself into his arms so violently that he staggered back a few steps, but he held you so tightly that that you lifted off the ground.
His smell and touch glued the pieces that had once been your heart back together.
You held him so tightly and swore never to let him go. By now you had attracted the attention of most of the people around you, but that didn't stop you from sobbing in relief.
You broke away from him slightly, but only to look him in the eye. He set you down carefully and his amber eyes scrutinized you in complete wonder. You wrapped your arms around his neck and began to chatter away like a waterfall:
"I'm so sorry. I was so stupid. It's totally fine if you don't feel that way, but I'm pretty sure I fell in love with you. You mean so much to me and I can't sleep, eat or breathe without you... I just didn't want to mess up and get in the way of your dream.“
"Y/N..." he tried to interrupt you for the first time, but everything that had been building up burst out of you.
"You’re an amazing boxer and I didn’t want to make things complicated for you. Also I've never felt anything like this before and I was afraid you wouldn't want me."
"Sweetheart. Y/N?"
Sobbing, you didn't realize you were crying until he wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs and cupped your cheeks lovingly. Breathing hard, you looked up at him and he smiled warmly.
"May I say something now?" he asked quietly, and there was so much affection in his eyes that you just nodded, sniffling.
"I'm in love with you. For quite a while now. I didn't know this feeling. When I was near you I felt things I had never felt before. But now I know: I'm deeply madly and head over heels in love with you."
"Really?"
He laughed at the look on your face. You were too cute with those puffy lips, reddened eyes, and beautiful affection in your eyes.
"Yes. Can I finally kiss you now?"
You nodded and that's when he pulled you by the chin into a kiss that blew away all the pain of the last few days like a violent whirlwind. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest as you snuggled up to him and deepened the kiss.
Now you knew what this strange feeling was that floated between you like a lukewarm summer wind. It was love.
The word suddenly didn't feel so far away anymore.
With closed eyes you slowly separated from each other, smiling and savouring the moment. You blushed when you saw how many pairs of eyes were directed at you. Nevertheless, you could not stop smiling at each other.
Then an announcement rang out, announcing Woojin's flight in a few minutes.
"I have to go..." he muttered in anguish, and you stroked his chest with your hands.
"Yeah I know."
He didn't want to let you go and it was obvious how much he was fighting with himself.
"Just to make sure: You're my girlfriend now?" he asked with that typical cheeky grin.
Your heart fluttered and you wanted to squeal with delight. You laughed blissfully and overwhelmed with happiness. He wanted to bottle up that sound so bad and keep it with him forever.
"Yes. All yours..." you replied and he looked at your features dreamily.
"All mine," he murmured and pulled you by the hips into a kiss again. It was getting harder and harder to separate from each other, but you managed somehow.
"You have to go! Otherwise you'll miss the flight," you gasped breathlessly, pressing your forehead to his.
"Will you call me?"
"Of course. After all, we're officially together now. We'll cheer you on from home until you get back," you said, and along with the joy, a little wistfulness now crept in.
After all, this was still goodbye. A temporary farewell, but still devastating now that you finally stopped being stupid and found each other.
"Take care of Gunwoo for me!" he said and that's when you noticed your brother standing behind you, smiling broadly but with teary eyes.
"Come here Bro!", Woojin said then and spread an arm invitingly.
Gunwoo literally jumped into the embrace and so you three squeezed each other tightly.
"Show them and win!" said Gunwoo and you thought you heard a muffled sob.
When you broke away from each other, you all had tears in your eyes and yet you were grinning broadly.
"We see each other soon...Maybe you can visit me?" said Woojin, and neither of you would move, nodding while sniffling and pouting.
When your brother pulled him sobbing into his arms once more, you laughed softly and wiped the tears from your eyes.
Then the idiot that you somehow fell in love with turned to you again, pulled you closer by your face, and gave you one last, loving kiss.
"I love you, dollface"
"I love you, idiot"
With that, you let go and watched Woojin disappear through the gate. Gunwoo put an arm around you and you leaned your head against his shoulder. That wasn't exactly what your brother had in mind, when he wanted you two to know each other but having your best friend as possible brother-in-law wasn't that bad either.
Before Woojin disappeared completely, he saluted Gunwoo, which your brother returned with a laugh. Then he was gone and there were only the two of you again.
With a muffled sob you hid your face in your hands, while Gunwoo led you outside the airport.
„I‘ll miss his stupid face“, you cried and Gunwoo chuckled slightly.
He shook is head and looked at you with a healing smile.
„Who would have guessed…“
The End
——
© Sky-yuna — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.
@marked-unknown @littlebaby-bunbun @officialshania @choisoorin @fanaticnae @hoe4wonwoo @lola2004sworld @penny44224 @artisticbirb @amnmich @spaggedy @tasteskz-sworld
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Text
Apple Pie
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hi my angels!!! Apple pie part 2???!!! Now listen… there’s no smut PLEASE don’t be upset. I really wanna make this a series i have a lot of stuff planned out especially for the next chapter </3 i hope you guys like it.
DISCLAIMER: IF YOU WERE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW/DARK CONTENT OR ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY BLOG. MUAH.
Warnings: Panic attack, mentions of cleaning and bandaging wounds, accidental injury and mentions of blood. Leon is lowkey obsessed but hates it, so he shut it down.
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Word count: 2,444
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Nine o’clock.
Does he show up early? Does he come a minute late?
Leon stares at himself in his mirror, sighing when he feels he doesn’t look.. acceptable.
Was he a creep?
Like, hey, you made me a really fantastic pie, and you watered my lawn while I was out of town, and now I watch you from my living room while you’re in your kitchen.
It’s weird. Yet he found so much comfort in you living this ordinary life, baking pies and watering plants and checking on your strawberry bush daily as if they’d grow overnight. You were simple, and oh, how he craved simple.
His arms tugged at the t-shirt he slipped on, just a plain blue one. But he couldn’t help but run his fingers over the forming scabs on his wrist and arms; with you a distraction he had forgotten he had come home from a mission. He groaned in frustration as he tugged the t-shirt off, slipping on a black long sleeve. It was going to have to do.
Shit, he had no flowers to give you? Nothing? He leaned himself back, peering out his bedroom window to see you in your kitchen still, swinging open the oven door and the smoke piling out, making your glasses fog up as you attempted to reach for the dish inside without sight. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he grabbed his keys; just a quick trip to the grocery store for some flowers for you.
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White roses? No red, pink? Tulips? No..
He stood clueless in front of the flower cart, looking at all the neatly wrapped bouquets before him as he rubbed the back of his neck in confusion.
“What’s she like?”
An older woman asks Leon, leaning heavily on her cart for support as she looks at him. Leon cleared his throat as he looked at the tiny woman, shrugging as he laughed defenselessly.
“That’s the thing, she’s my neighbor. I hardly know her.”
The older woman couldn’t help but smile cheerfully at Leon as she walked over to the cart, handing him the mix of yellow roses and white daisies. She nodded her head as she tapped his hands
“She will love those, trust me. I was young once being given roses by a handsome man.”
Leon watched the woman walk away, tapping the flowers against his arm before he walked to the register, the teenager giving him a dead-tired stare as he scanned the code for the flowers.
“Twenty-four seventy-nine.”
His monotone voice almost caused Leon to convulse as he reached into his pocket, pulling out the one hundred dollar bill and a fifty. He hands the money to the young man, who stares at him, confused
“An older woman is walking around here; you’ll notice her, you’re the only register open. Please pay for her groceries with that money.”
The teenager sighed as he slipped the bills under the register, looking back to Leon’s
“Receipt?”
And before Leon could even respond with his quick no thanks the kid cut him off, sighing as he started scanning the following customer's items
“Great. Have a good one.”
———————————
Leon’s hands were so overly sweaty, and why? He cracked his neck as he parked in his driveway, his eyes shifting to his dashboard to see it was nine ten. Shit. He practically ran to your door, his fist colliding with the white door. He squeezed the flowers in his hands before the door opened, your apron around your waist as you smiled at him. You were a mess, but he couldn’t help but admire it.
As he walked into the house, the instant smell of food hit him. He saw your eyes shifting back and forth to the flowers as you untied the apron from your waist before he awkwardly handed you the flowers.
How did he know? You held the flowers in your hands as he followed you into the kitchen, where you had dirty dishes thrown around, but all the food was prepared and ready.
“It’s funny because I tried to grow daisies for almost three years and I gave up because I stopped having the time for them.
You laugh as you grab the slim glass container, leaning over your sink and turning it on for the water.
“Yeah?”
Leon asked as he leaned against the door frame, his eyes tracing your every feature as he looked you up and down as you were so distracted with the flowers.
You set the vase on your window seal, smiling at the gorgeous flowers.
“Well, thank you Leon, they're beautiful.”
Leon nodded his head as a you’re welcome as you pointed to the table
“Please sit, let me serve you.”
Leon stared at you, confused as you pulled the pretty white plates from your cabinet.
Serve him?
Leon walked towards your dining room, how cute you set up all the glasses and silverware.
He pulled his chair out to sit down, noticing the slight creak of the chair as he scooted himself closer to the table. His ears pick up the sound of you hissing, your feet tapping against the floor from burning yourself. His head leaned back in concern before you walked out of the kitchen, two plates in your hand. He never really noticed what you wore, the light denim jeans and the baby blue t-shirt, that gorgeous gold necklace around your neck that he would surely ask about later. He didn’t mean to stare, you leaned over the table and placed the plate in front of him before you walked to the other side of the table, sitting down. Your foot brushed against his leg- did you mean to do that?
“Do you cook like this every night?”
Leon was shocked at your cooking capability just by the apple pie alone, but the plate in front of him was set so perfectly with mashed potatoes, chicken and a mix of fresh vegetables, it’s probably from the garden you mentioned.
“I usually eat at work, actually. A lot of my vegetables were just harvested today, so you just got lucky.”
You always eat leftover noodles from work, always too focused on other things to prepare yourself dinner most of the time. You don’t know what came over you but you knew you had to cook Leon dinner. Maybe he looked too tired, or perhaps you just felt bad for him, you didn’t know.
The silence between you two was slightly awkward, your eyes occasionally glancing up at Leon who seemed to really be enjoying his food.
“What do you do for work?”
The question made Leon’s chest hurt as he swallowed the chicken in his mouth, wiping his mouth with the napkin. How does he answer? Yeah, I work for the D.S.O. against counter-terrorism. Did I mention I've fought literal zombies?
“I’m an agent for the local police department.”
Good save.
“Oh wow, really? Guess that explains your wrist?”
Leon frowned in confusion before he looked down, seeing that his injuries were just past his wrist.
“Right, I never feel them so thanks for pointing them out.”
Leon chuckled as he followed your actions, sipping his wine. He almost choked on the red liquid as you reached forward, grabbing his hand, your soft fingers tugging up his sleeve.
“It’s swollen around the area, see?”
His eyes follow your finger as you trace the red around the wounds, the cool air finally hitting them made them hurt worse than he thought it would. Leon just nodded his head as you stood, grabbing his plate and walking to the sink putting the dishes back.
“Don’t move!”
You call out from down the hallway. You opened the closet door, clicking your tongue before you hummed in satisfaction at the sight of your first aid kit. Your body turned the hall and walked into the dining room, smiling at Leon as you sat down the first aid kid, clicking it open.
Leon wasn’t a man who bandaged his wounds unless it was vital. A little road burn or a small burn wouldn’t kill him, just wash it with soap and it should be good. You stood beside him, your glasses resting against the very tip of your nose as you poured alcohol onto the small wipes. You gave him a friendly glance before you began wiping at the red skin, Leon clearing his throat in discomfort as you continued to wipe at his skin. You placed the wipe down onto the table and grabbed at the antibiotic ointment, squeezing some onto your pointer finger and rubbing it against the edges of his burn. You hummed a soft tune to yourself as you began wrapping his arm in the white bandage, smiling as you finished, pushing your glasses up your nose.
“All done.”
Leon’s fist clenched and unclenched as he looked at the bandage, he couldn’t help but let a slight smirk grow on his face as he looked at you.
“What, you’re a doctor now?”
Your eyes rolled as you shoved everything back into its container and shut it, your body turning to walk away.
Why did he suddenly feel so angry? His chest bubbling with an unnerving pain as he pressed his fist into the table, the noise of you rambling on about something filled his ears and it became muffled as he stared down at the table, he stood up, pushing his chair in before he stormed down your entryway and clear out the door.
You shut the closet door the same time Leon slammed the front door, the pictures on your wall shaking causing you to run down the long hallway, looking into the dining room to see Leon not in the dining chair. You took a few long strides to your kitchen, peering out to the window to see Leon walk into his house, his window shaking as he slammed his door too.
You stared at all the dishes in the kitchen, scattered everywhere. Your hands were shaking, why? Just clean up. Don’t cry, you don’t even know him? Why would you cry, You don’t even know Leon and he didn’t know you. You stared out your front window, stuck in your own mind as you scrubbed viciously at the dishes, a hiss leaving your lips as you looked down at your white sink, now painted with your blood.
“Fuck..”
You whispered as your shaking hand dropped the knife, running towards the bathroom.
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Leon’s door slamming made even him flinch. He couldn’t even pinpoint his anger, his fingers ripping off the bandage on his arm, throwing it into the small trash can in his bathroom as he turned his shower on, his breath heavy as he tugged his shirt over his head, dragging his pants down his legs. His face was flushed a deep red, he briefly caught a look at himself in the mirror. His arm glistened slightly from the medication you rubbed into his skin. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he still struggled to catch his breath, stepping himself into the shower, an instant sigh of relief poured from him as the hot water trickled down his skin.
His mind was racing, his head dipping into the water and wetting his hair. He stared at the water swirling down the drain, he was too scared to close his eyes. He was always afraid to close his eyes. Leon never sleeps and when he does he wakes up angry, and frustrated.
Leon slipped on the plaid pajama pants, his hand combing through his hair as he looked up in the mirror. His eyes scanned the scars on his chest and torso. His footsteps were slow as he walked toward his living room. He can sit on the couch forever, his eyes hooded as he watches the random news channel. No matter what was on the TV, he couldn’t help but look over at your window. His throat felt like it was closing as he watched you staring out your window, he almost jumped up when he watched you wince and run off out of his view. If he knocked on your door right now, you’d slam it in his face. And somehow out of all the things invading his mind, you were again the main focus.
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Waking up the following day was more challenging than usual, the deep gash in your hand wrapped tightly. It’s already nine, you were thankful you had the day off. You somehow pulled yourself out of bed, still in your pajamas. You never really were your own first priority. You opened your front door, hair still messy as you filled your watering pot to the brim. You set it down carefully by your bushes, dragging your hose towards Leon’s lawn. You were still half asleep so you were just stuck in your habits, your finger pressing into the hole of the hose as you watered his bushes, your other hand coming up to rub your eyes.
———————————-
Leon grumbled incoherently as he sat up, that sore pain in his spine making itself well aware as he did so. The noise of running water made his brows frown as he walked into the kitchen, turning his sink on. He kneeled down and rubbed his face with the cool water, a quick breath of sudden adrenaline leaving his lips as he held at his sink. His eyes squinting as he sees you, standing in your pajama shorts on his lawn, rubbing at your tired eyes. You did cut your hand, the bandage getting a bit wet as you moved your hose around his yard.
“Jesus Christ.”
Leon mumbled as he pushed himself off his counter and to the front door. You obviously didn’t hear him walking onto the porch, his arms crossing over his chest as he watched you.
“Good morning.”
Leon’s voice snapped you awake, the hose splashing up at you, misting your face. You pushed your finger back into the hole of the hose as you cleared your throat. Was he always this handsome? Leaning against the frame of his porch, his arms against his chest and his muscles being shined on perfectly by the sun.
Yet he could say the same about you, your hair tangled so slightly, the cute cat sweater lifted so slightly, your stomach showing.
“Hey, Leon. I’m sorry, I guess I’m into old habits.”
You laughed as you pressed your foot into the hose to cut the stream. Do you ask him about why he stormed out? The way he was looking at you made you want to just run back into your house, close all your blinds and just go back to sleep.
“Stop watering my lawn.”
Leon’s voice was stern, his hands dropping to his sides as he walked back into his house, your face yet again meeting the auburn door.
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blubffsd · 1 year
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— WORLDS COLLIDE PT. 3
summary: The lie you believed your whole life just fell apart, the person you loved the most let you down once again. Why did you think this time would be different?
previous chapter
note: i really don't know what song to recommend for this part, just play your favorite sad song lol. please pretend that on social media it says "Mia" instead of Y/N, i edited it like 3 times and it never saved so i gave up.
@http-isabela love u 😚💞
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Indignation.
That's what Mia feels now.
She has a hard time believing what she sees, but unfortunately it is real.
They backstabbed her in front of miles of people.
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It wasn't until she arrived in Argentina that she found out about their tweets, all thanks to Anto, who had found out from Jorgelina Cardoso, Di Maria's wife.
After Mia found out, the players of the Argentina team found out too, Lio told them what happened after Anto told him.
Most are completely outraged by the audacity of her brother-in-law and his wife to make such comments.
All of them are still euphoric for having become world champions less than 2 days ago, and even more so now that they are waiting in Ezeiza to celebrate with the Argentines at the Obelisk.
So right now they do and say things that they wouldn't do at another time.
And Mia too.
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Will she regret of this? Yeah.
Does she care now? No.
Obviously people suspect that the tweets are for Melissa and Jirès (especially those of Enzo and Julián).
If Kylian and Mia's names was a trend before, now there are even newspaper articles speculating what happened between them.
And as if that weren't enough, now she has his boyfriend's fans attacking her on twitter, just like when he said he's dating her.
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Jirès even had the audacity to reply to her tweet.
Mia knows she were wrong a lot, but is all that necessary?
It's okay that they're mad at her and she understand it. But why increase the hate she is getting?
Why are they treating her like this if two days ago they had dinner with her and told her how grateful they are to have her in their lives?
Did they lie to her or were her attitudes so bad that they changed their opinion drastically?
Even if it hurts Mia keeps seeing the tweets out there about all the drama.
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Wonderful.
Now they are relating the songs of her favorite singer with her love dramas.
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THEY EVEN MAKE A PLAYLIST. (it's real btw)
Mia lets out a laugh when she saw the songs they chose to "cry over your divorce".
At least they are not criticizing her or judging her actions.
It doesn't make Mia feels better, but she doesn't feel worse. That's okay.
She wants to believe that's okay.
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Mia arrives at her father's house hours after arriving in Argentina.
Anto insisted so much that she stays with her and the children but Mia refused, she needs to talk to her dad, she miss him so much.
Mia knocks on the door of the house while she sees the Argentine flag hanging.
Her father opens the door for her in a matter of seconds and when he sees her he smiles and hugs her.
Mia smiled slightly as she felt his arms around her.
It feels good to hug him again. And that he is the one who took the initiative makes her happy.
Although deep down in her heart she knows that he is hugging her because Argentina won the World Cup and not because she came home after 5 years.
He invites her in and she enter his house.
Everything in the house was the same as when she left, but it felt different.
—Sentate si querés (Sit down if you want) –he says pointing to the couch in front of Mia.
She nods and sit back watching him do the same.
There is an awkward silence between the two of them until Mia speak.
—Y... ¿cómo andás? (So... how are you?) –her father turns to look at her and smiles widely.
He's going to talk about football.
—Estoy re bien, hija. Me siento tan feliz, nunca me había sentido así en mi vida, te lo juro. (I'm fine, daughter. I feel so happy, I have never felt like this in my life, I swear.)
He doesn't have to swear for Mia to believe him, she knows he's not lying. He was never this happy.
—Qué alegría, pa. (What a joy, dad) –she smiles slightly not knowing what else to say.
Mia wish she were as happy as her dad, but she can't knowing what she did.
She can't get Kylian out of her mind and how he must be now, a few hours away from his birthday.
She knows she have to explain everything to him but she doesn't have the courage to do it.
What excuse could she make for having abandoned him after not having achieved what he dreamed of all his life?
Mia comes back to reality when she feels her dad's touch on her shoulder.
—¿Eh? ¿Qué pasó, pa? ¿Me dijiste algo? (What happened, dad? Did you say something?)
She hears her dad laugh and sees how he shakes his head.
—Te pregunté qué dice tu noviecito por haber perdido (I asked you what "that guy" you're dating thinks about losing) –a mocking smile appears on his face.
"That guy you're dating"? Is that the way he intends to name her boyfriend?
—No sé, todavía no hablé con él. (I don't, I didn't talk with him yet).
—¿No quiere hablar con vos todavía después de haber perdido? Qué idiota. ¿Cómo se llama? ¿Kyle? ¿Kylan? (He doesn't want to talk to you after losing? What a idiot. What's his name? Kyle? Kylan?)
The mocking smile doesn't leave her father's face and that can't bother Mia anymore.
He doesn't even know his name.
—No es ningún idiota y su nombre es Kylian. Me sorprende que no sepas el nombre de mi novio, con quien estoy hace 4 años. (He's not an idiot and his name is Kylian. I'm surprised you don't know the name of the guy I've been in a relationship with for 4 years.)
Her father laughs mocking Mia's words.
—Kylian, nombre de perdedor en las finales (Kylian, name of a loser in the World Cup finals) –he laugh again.
Mia frowns. He's acting like her boyfriend hasn't hattrick or won a world cup yet.
He's trying to humiliate Kylian and she is not going to allow it.
—Te recuerdo que "ese perdedor" ya ganó un mundial y en su primer intento, y también casi gana su segundo mundial por su cuenta (I remind you that "that loser" has already won a World Cup and in his first attempt, and he also almost won his second World Cup on his own).
Now her father is the one who frowns, surprised by her words.
—Dejá de defender a ese tarado, ese chico no vale la pena, te lo dije millones de veces. Estás haciendo lo mismo que hiciste en 2018. (Stop defending that dumb guy, that boy is not worth it, I told you millions of times. You're doing the same thing you did in 2018.)
Mia takes a deep breath trying to calm down, what is happening cannot be real.
—Te hacías la que querías que ganáramos nosotros para que acá en los medios de comunicación no te dijeran nada, pero seguramente querías que gane ese estúpido que tenés por novio. Y sí, no querías que te pase lo mismo que en 2018, que lo apoyaste a él cuando estaba jugando contra tu país y me hiciste quedar como un tarado. Me traicionaste y me dejaste de lado por tu novio, lo elegiste antes que a mí y no tuviste ni un poco de consideración conmigo (You pretended that you wanted us to win so that here in the media they wouldn't tell you anything, but surely you wanted that stupid boyfriend of yours to win. Of course, you didn't want the same thing to happen to you as in 2018, that you supported him when he was playing against your country and you made me look like a stupid. You betrayed me and dumped me for your boyfriend, you chose him over me and you didn't have one bit of consideration for me).
Mia can't believe what she is hearing.
—Ese chico te va a dejar por la primera chica que encuentre, no sé cómo duró tanto con vos. Todos los futbolistas son iguales. No me sorprendería si me decís que prefiere el fútbol antes que a vos (That boy is going to leave you for the first girl he finds, I don't know how he lasted so long with you. All footballers are the same. I wouldn't be surprised if you tell me that he prefers football over you).
That was the last straw.
—Entonces estás diciendo que Kylian va a hacerle lo mismo que vos me hiciste a mí (So you're saying that Kylian is going to do the same thing to me that you did to me?)
Mia feels her dad's stunned look and her let out a sarcastic laugh.
—Según vos él va a elegir el fútbol antes que a mí ¿no? Y me estás advirtiendo. Qué considerado, no querés que pase por lo mismo que me hiciste pasar vos (According to you, he is going to choose football before me, right? And you're warning me. How thoughtful, you don't want me to go through the same thing you put me through).
Her dad gets up from the couch completely angry.
—¿Qué decís, nena? Si a vos te di todo lo que pude para que no te faltara nada (What do you say? If I gave you everything I could so that you didn't lack anything).
Mia sighed completely frustrated, he doesn't get it.
Obviously he doesn't get it.
—Ya sé y te lo agradezco. Pero siempre hubo algo más importante que yo, no te importaba qué pasaba conmigo ni nada, nunca fui tu prioridad (I know and thank you for that. But there was always something more important than me, you didn't care what happened to me or anything, I was never your priority).
She feels how a lump forms in her throat and tears appear in her eyes.
Her father keeps glaring at her in front of her, as if she just insulted him.
—Siempre había un partido más importante que mi cumpleaños, una práctica más importante que mi graduación. Cuando nací mamá me dijo que te quejaste porque tenías que jugar un partido ese fin de semana y no ibas a poder por tener que cuidarme a mí. Y tenés el descaro de venir a advertirme de Kylian. (There was always a game more important than my birthday, a practice more important than my graduation. When I was born, mom told me that you complained because you had to play a game that weekend and you couldn't make it because you had to take care of me. And you have the nerve to come warn me about Kylian).
Her father does not take his eyes off her.
—Bueno, y decime entonces, ¿dónde está tu noviecito ahora? ¿Te buscó o algo por lo menos o no le importas lo suficiente como para querer saber dónde estás? (Well, and tell me then, where is your boyfriend now? Did he look for you or something at least or does he not care enough to want to know where you are?).
That hurt Mia.
Kylian hasn't called her.
But she didn't call him either and she should have.
—Él al menos no me llamó gritándome que soy una traidora, que no merezco vivir y que dejé de existir para él como tú lo hiciste (He at least didn't call me yelling that I'm a traitor, that I don't deserve to live and that I ceased to exist for him like you did).
There isn't a single hint of regret on his face, her father looks at her seriously, as if telling her that if he had to do it again, he would.
—Estabas apoyando al enemigo (You were supporting the enemy).
Mia remember Hiba's words to her during the match.
"You're wearing Kylian's jersey and sitting next to his family as you clap for the enemy."
This whole situation is so similar to 2018 but feels so different.
—Kylian necesitaba mi apoyo y estuve ahí para él. (Kylian needed my support and I was there for him).
Her father laughs sarcastically.
—¿Y por qué estás acá conmigo y no con él? Si él tanto te necesita (And why are you here with me and not with him? If he needs you so much).
Mia looks at her dad and then at her bags.
He's right, for the first time since she were born.
Why is she there with him if the one who really deserves to talk to her is Kylian?
Why did she think her dad would change this time?
Why is she there with him and not with Kylian? How could she get so carried away?
Mia takes her bags under the stupefied look of her dad and take one last look at his house.
The walls still have the same photos of her dad when he played football, it makes Mia a little sad to remember when she asked him why he hasn't photos of her there.
"It's just that I don't care enough about you".
After saying it, he laughed, implying that it was a joke.
Mia opens the door and walk out of her dad's house.
Maybe it wasn't after all.
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note: HELLOWODOWODO
taglist: @nightlockcornucopia @melliflulu @mad-die45 @bifici @woozarts @neymarsrealgf @meanwhilesomewhereelse @psgkm7 @matthiashelvarsgf @krillfromsky @ashley-leclerc @mxgvmiii @like3dbypierregasly @httpspedri26 @aerangi @berryhtrs @lena-03 @gash167 @claaau5 @notanenthucutlet @okayline @noodle81937
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The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Chapter One
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The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Chapter One Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 4867 Warnings: major angst, major fluff, mentions of murder, graphic descriptions of dead bodies, crime scenes, near-death experiences, slow-burnish romance, death, canon violence, rape, swearing, guns, knives, prostitution, canon cuteness of the team. Spoilers: Maeve's death, mentions of previous cases or canon events from seasons 1-10.
Spencer and you have an unspoken connection with one another. Nothing has ever happened between you two, especially since everything went down with Maeve, but your love has grown and overcome and is now clear as day to everyone. However, just when Spencer builds up enough courage to ask you out officially, you're requested on an undercover mission that halts your budding relationship in its tracks.
Months go by without a word from you until bodies of prostitutes start showing up in New York and the BAU is brought in to help. Spencer and you finally reunite as both your cases collide, but your lives and your love are both on the line now.
Will you and Spencer be able to find the way back home this time?
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Epilogue
~~~
In the bedroom of his apartment, Spencer fiddled with his tie as he looked in the mirror. He didn't know why he bothered though, it was always perpetually crooked. Something you always tease him about.
Teased.
He clenched his jaw at your memory. It had been eleven months since you'd left. Eleven. Months. You just... up and disappeared without a call or a note. Heck, he would've taken a text despite his adversity to how it was inevitably devolving people's interpersonal communication skills.
When he'd shown up to the office on Monday, he expected to see your dazzling figure with two coffees in hand - one for yourself and one for him - and that infamous bright smile on your lips. He hated to admit it, but he'd become reliant on you to always be there. You had only joined three years after he had, around a similar to time to Emily (who had been like a big sister to you), but even after others came and went, you had always stayed.
You had stayed with him. By him. He selfishly thought sometimes it was for him.
So when Hotch had informed him and the rest of the team that you had been offered another position with a different unit across the country, he shouldn't have been all that surprised that you had jumped at the chance to do something more than what you were doing at the BAU.
Again, selfishly, he thought that what you both did would be enough for you. It was for him.
He should've been happy for you despite how shocking the news came. But instead he was struck with an odd sense of open-endedness - no closure. If you were leaving, you would've said something... right? He wasn't the best at recognising social cues or reading people's emotions, but he couldn't have mistaken the smile you'd given him when he'd asked you out that night. It was joyous, it was relief, it was overwhelming excitement for the future. There could've been no faking that you felt what he felt and wanted what he wanted.
His fingers dropped from his tie, seeing no point in trying to fix it any further. Instead, his gaze drifted to his hair. It was long again, unruly curls caressing the top of his neck and tucked as neatly as possible behind his ears. You would always play with those curls as you gave him head massages when he was having his migraines, and kept the habit up whenever Spencer was stressed or tired. It helped him relax, it soothed him.
The image of you pouting whenever he got his hair cut short and close-cropped tugged his lips slightly upwards. He smoothed back the curls on his forehead. He had a random thought to just shave them all off. They were just another reminder of how much time had passed since you'd left.
He raised an eyebrow at himself in the mirror.
He wondered if he could rock the bald egg look.
He grimaced at the thought and shook his head. What the hell am I doing? He rubbed at his tired eyes before looking at his wrist watch briefly. He had to be in the office in just over an hour. So he quickly grabbed a suit jacket from his closet, but decided halfway to the kitchen that he would need extra warmth today and so turned around to grab a cardigan from his messy chest of draws.
He winced at the chaos of colours and material he found waiting for him. For a highly organised, intelligent man, he really could be a complete mess.
He wasn't looking for any particular one, but he absentmindedly sought out the regal navy blue one you'd gifted to him on one birthday. It was the most worn in his collection by far, having worn it multiple times a week (sometimes even consecutively) in the past eleven months. He fiddled with the soft material for a moment, and he swore he could still smell your perfume on it.
Vanilla Caramel and Peonies. An odd combination, but just the right balance of sweetness and freshness.
It was the right balance of you.
She's not coming back, he told himself, and his broken heart yearned for what could've been once more. He'd called you - well, tried calling you - for days, weeks, months even after you'd left. But he'd just go straight to voice mail, and you had never tried to call him back. It was like six years of working together had never happened, like they had never mattered.
Like he had never mattered.
He shook his head and dropped the cardigan in favour of an emerald green one that his mother had just sent him from one of her travels. It was oddly cold compared to yours, but at least he knew where his mother was and that he was on her mind, no mattered how disorganised it had become.
He wondered if he was still on your mind, wherever you were.
It didn't take him long to put on the green cardigan, grab his lunch from the fridge - it was just leftover Chinese from the takeout place down the street - and lock his apartment up before making his way to work. The drive to the FBI Head Quarters in Quantico was its usual, monotonous route, making it to the highly secured facility in under an hour. He entered the bullpen and went straight for his desk first, placing his satchel bag on it before heading for his safe haven - the break room.
They'd just closed a case yesterday and so he expected to be filling out a lot of reports today. Thus the reason for the copious amounts of sugar in his coffee he was currently making.
'Whoa! Talk about having a sweet tooth. Save some for the rest of us, Reid.'
Spencer looked over his shoulder to see Kate Callahan walking through the door into the break room, an amused and slightly baffled expression morphing her gentle features as she eyed Spencer's coffee making. She walked over beside him to grab a mug from the cupboard and poured herself some coffee from the freshly brewed pot beside Spencer.
Spencer spared her a tight-lipped smile. Not long after you had left, so did Alex. It was like a double blow to Spencer's trust system, with two pillars of reliance being taken away so quickly and without warning. Kate had joined the team soon after that, and Spencer was glad to see the past few months that Kate had slotted in with the team just as nicely.
But she sadly couldn't fill the you-shaped hole in his heart.
'Sorry,' he said, putting the sugar container down finally and began to mix what he could in with the hot coffee. 'Our days started earlier when I first started, and normal coffee just never did the trick for me. Now I can't have it any other way but tooth-rottingly sweet.'
She chuckled as she placed the pot down and drank it straight - no creamer or sugar or milk at all. 'Doesn't worry me. I'm a true espresso gal, but I think Morgan may have some issues if all the sugar somehow disappears.'
'I won't tell if you won't,' Spencer offered, tapping the spoon on the cup's edge before placing it in the sink. He took a tentative sip from the hot drink, and relished at the sweetness that warmed his throat.
Kate winked as she took a sip from her own coffee. 'It'll be our little secret.'
Before either could make a move to return to their desks - where no doubt towers of paperwork were waiting for them - the bright, colourful figure that was Penelope Garcia stopped by the doorway. 'Good morning, my beautiful people,' she said by way of greeting, although her smile didn't reach her eyes like usual. 'I know you all just got back but we've got another case. Roundtable when you're ready.'
Kate sighed with exhaustion but Spencer nodded his understanding. Paperwork soothed him, but he didn't necessarily want to be soothed right now. He wanted action, a distraction, something to physically do. Anything to take his mind off you.
'Looks like paperwork will have to wait,' he said, bounding after Penelope with Kate in tow.
'Don't sound so happy about a dead body, Reid,' Kate suggested.
'You don't know it's dead body,' he argued as he swung by his desk to grab his bag and rejoin Kate to walk towards the Roundtable Room, all the while not spilling his coffee. 'Statistically, it is more likely that there are multiple dead bodies involved considering we don't get called in for singular homicide events very often unless it's a high profile victim, in which case the unsub could be a highly trained assassin or of military background. But those statistics are another collection of data unrelated to serial killing, so it's more likely the case involves a serial killer, and therefore multiple dead bodies.'
The two of them entered the Roundtable Room to find the rest of the team already seated and Penelope standing in front of the screen, ready to present.
'What are we talking about?' JJ asked.
Before Spencer could answer, Kate cut in with, 'You don't want to go down that rabbit hole.'
'Okay, my pretties,' Penelope started, clicking a button to start the presentation. Three pictures of women appeared on the screen, alongside birth certificates and a picture of their dead body. 'We have three dead women: Anna Carswell, Petrina Summers, and Larissa Pembroke; and as you can tell from the pictures, their deaths were very messy. There are signs of sexual violence from what remains of their... um... mutilated nether regions.'
'They were stabbed?' Kate asked, her face pinching with disgust and sadness for the women. Spencer didn't blame her. There was blood everywhere including the walls of the dumpsters they were found in. It was enough to make him squeamish; he couldn't imagine what Kate, JJ and Penelope were possibly feeling.
Penelope nodded grimly. 'Yeah. Anna Carswell was the first victim and was only stabbed five times, but the others both have twelve stab wounds each.'
'So much rage...' JJ mused softly as she examined the pictures.
'That,' Derek started, 'or twelve is a significant number for the unsub.'
'Or he's trying to send a message to someone,' Hotch added. 'Look at her clothes, her shoes, makeup and hair.'
Spencer narrowed his eyes to inspect each area individually, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what Hotch was talking about. 'Styled or big hair; tight-fitting tops, skirts and dresses that leave little to the imagination; significantly high heels; and bold jewellery and makeup,' Spencer listed his observations pragmatically before looking away from the screen to address the others properly. 'I don't want to stereotype, but my guess is that they're prostitutes.'
'And boy wonder wins this round of Guess Who,' Penelope announced. 'All of them worked as prostitutes at popular establishments around Manhattan, but they were so far strung that local police didn't put the killings together until Larissa's body was found last night. The first victim was killed six months ago, but Petrina and Larissa make two in the last month.
'That's a bit of an escalation for the unsub,' Rossi finally said, having been quietly contemplating since Spencer walked in. 'Why the sudden increase in kill time, do you think?'
'Maybe he's impotent,' JJ offered. 'Maybe Anna Carswell was just an accident - see, look at the jagged and varied placement of the stab wounds. And for the past few months he's been trying to repress the urge to kill again, and some recent event has been his stressor.'
'JJ's right, Petrina and Larissa's stab wounds are cleaner, intentional. He's perfecting his craft,' Kate stated.
'Who called it in?' Derek asked.
'The first two victims were found by dumpster guys picking up the trash, but Larissa was found by a homeless man trying to find some food,' Penelope said. 'Local authorities have all callers in at their main office and are expecting you within the next two hours.'
'We'll keep debriefing on the plane,' Hotch said as he stood up, tablet in hand. 'Wheels up in twenty.'
Suddenly his phone pinged, and he took a quick glance at it, his face turning grim.
'What is it, Aaron?' Rossi asked.
Hotch pocketed his phone as he said, 'That was the New York FBI office. They've found another body. Wheels up in ten.'
~~~
Spencer stood across from the coroner with the latest victim's body laying between them.
Roxy Vega. Sounded fake, but that's who her brothel manager identified her as. She was the one to call Roxy in, but said that one of her girls was the one to find her. Spencer and Morgan were to go talk to her and the manager after looking at the body.
'She's the same as the others, poor thing,' the coroner said, her brow scrunching with displeasure. 'Stabbed to death. Twelve, to be exact.'
'Anything from the toxicology report?' Derek asked.
She shook her head. 'Hasn't come back yet, but I can guess she'll be like the others too and be clean. People think prostitutes would be similar to junkies, but the truth is it's usually whoever they're serving that put something in their system to... elevate the experience.'
Spencer and Derek must've been pulling shocked expressions, because she chuckled, putting her clipboard down on a table beside her. 'I used to do some escorting myself to help pay off medical school before I got this job. Nothing extreme like these girls, but the same principles applied.'
Spencer gave her a tight-lipped smile before pointing at the sheet. 'If you don't mind, can I look at the wounds myself?'
'Sure,' the coroner said, and delicately manoeuvred the white sheet covering Roxy so that it covered her upper body still. Even the dead deserved some modesty.
But Spencer wasn't perturbed by her female genitalia. He was more interested in the twelve stab wounds that scarred her lower abdomen and pelvic area. Six side by side in each area.
'That's odd,' he murmured to himself.
But Derek heard him. 'What is?'
Spencer hovered his pointer finger over each wound. 'Look at these,' he said. 'They're almost exactly parallel to one another, all in a row. And the cuts are all the same length, too.'
'Well that rules out our unsub being rageful,' Derek added. 'If he was angry when he killed them, the wounds would no doubt be all over the place, and varied in length if he did it in a frenzy.'
'So our unsub is cool, calm and collected,' Spencer mused, but something still didn't add up. 'There is almost something ritualistic about the placement. Like it's a symbol.'
'Well, he's definitely trying to send a message then,' Derek said, eyes drifting back to Roxy laying on the table. 'But who is it for?'
'And has it been heard yet?' Spencer added. The buzz of his phone prompted him to pull it out of his coat pocket and answer the call.
'Hotch,' he answered. 'Morgan and I have just finished at the morgue. The lines on the latest victim suggests that these could be ritualistic killings or a message to someone or even a group. The stabs were clean so the girls, well Roxy at least, would've been restrained or knocked unconscious before they were stabbed.'
'That changes the profile from a raging serial killer to someone who had these killings premeditated,' Hotch concluded. 'Good work, you two. Head down to the brothel to see the manager and the co-worker who found her. Local authorities took their statements but maybe they know more than they think or are letting on.'
'Okay,' Spencer agreed. 'What are you guys doing?'
'JJ and Kate are talking with the victim's families one at a time and Dave and I are at the headquarters talking with the officers and detectives who started this case. I'll ask them if they noticed the stab wound patterns, see if it means anything to them.'
'We'll call JJ and tell her the same,' Spencer said. 'Maybe the unsub is taunting the parents somehow and the key is in the stab wounds.'
'Okay. Call back when you're done.'
'Got it.'
Spencer hung up and turned to the coroner. 'Thanks so much for your help. If you could send that M.E. report to our unit chief, that'd be most helpful.'
'Of course,' she said, offering a kind smile. 'I'll keep looking for other anomalies, particularly if you think they were somehow restrained or unconscious before they were stabbed.'
'The mass blood spillage was just for show,' Derek said. 'I have a bad feeling these girls weren't stumbled upon by accident. There's more to this, and whoever these stab wounds were meant to warn is the key to solving who is behind all of this.'
Spencer quickly thanked the coroner for her time before he and Derek were out the door and in an SUV driving to downtown Manhattan to the brothel.
The Chateau, despite its name, was just a small sign hanging above a door that needed a fresh coat of paint about ten years prior. No doubt the sign would light up neon at night to draw in the locusts that were cheating husbands or deadbeat wannabes. But it was located on a busy street, and daylight made it look unassuming compared to the big billboards and towering office buildings around it. Just a hole in the wall, really.
'This place looks like a dump already,' Derek said as they examined the outside. Posters advertising all kinds of entertainment from the establishment were pinned to billboards either side of the door and down the wall where people stood in line to get in perhaps. But they were torn, like flyers from a travelling circus long ago.
'That's probably a strategic method,' Spencer said. 'It's what many opium dens in Shanghai used to do back in the 1920s to avoid law enforcement suspicion. Of course, brothels and even opium dens are legal today, but they now act as the fronts for more illicit dealings.'
'Right,' Derek said, reaching out for the door handle tentatively. 'Let's just hope that isn't the case today. We've got enough to worry about with four dead girls let alone some underground, black market bullshit.'
Derek wasted no more time in opening the door and stepping inside, Spencer right on his heels. But as soon as the daylight faded and their eyes readjusted, they both gaped at what met them inside.
Lavish gold and black velvet carpet lined the floors, swirling in intricate, flowery designs that made Spencer feel dizzy for a second. A settee sat to their left in a small alcove where gold curtains were pulled back, but Spencer took a guess as to why they would be closed at certain points. All the furniture were beautifully crafted pieces with a black gloss layer and gold lining certain edges that sparkled in the low light from the victorian style lamps hanging on the walls.
It scared Spencer how accurate he had sort of been. It felt like he was in a 1920s film noir club where gangsters met up to make and complete deals. Where they smoked cigars, and the showgirls wore sparkly, frilly, feathery dresses and patterned pantyhose. In the back of his mind, Spencer knew it was a brothel, that the gold and sparkles were just a front, but he couldn't help but be impressed by the attention to detail. Right down to the artwork that hung on the walls, all of which were from famous painters from the time period.
'They're amazing, aren't they?'
Spencer spun alongside Derek at the new, commanding voice that entered the room, and found a woman in her late forties to early fifties standing by a podium where the registry would no doubt sit each night for customers to sign in and out of. He had to give it to the establishment, it was committed to the act.
'Y-Yes,' he stuttered an answer, looking back at the painting in front of him. 'It looks like- I'm sorry, but are these the real thing?'
She laughed heartily as she sashayed over to them, the bellowing arms of her white, silk sleeves flowing gracefully with her movements. 'Goodness, no. The real ones are more than likely in a museum somewhere or hanging above the bed of some rich bimbo who doesn't understand what it is or who even painted it.' Despite the malice in her words, her red lips parted in a sultry grin. 'But alas, these do just fine. As do you, might I say.'
Spencer didn't like how her eyes raked over him and Derek ever so slowly, like she was some predator contemplating what part of her prey she should consume first. This is what JJ, Kate and Penelope must feel most of the time, he thought, averting his eyes as best as possible from the woman's snake-like ones.
He decidedly did not like the feeling it gave him.
Sensing his partner's discomfort, Derek reached into his jean pocket and pulled out his badge. 'Thank you, but we're here on official business only today.'
Those snake-eyes latched onto the badge, and it only took her half a second for her sultry smile to drop and to cross her arms. But not out of embarrassment, more like how a child did when they didn't get what they want. 'So you're the FBI agents I was told was visiting me today. How charming.' She held out hand to Derek, and Spencer couldn't help but notice how bare it was compared to rest of her. Long dangling emeralds hung from her ears, matching the beautiful emerald necklace around her neck. But no rings, or bracelets.
Odd.
'I'm Madame Lacroix,' she said, Derek finally taking her hand. 'I am the manager of The Chateau.'
She held her hand out to Spencer, to which he awkwardly splayed his hands up by his chest in a mock surrender. 'I, uh, actually don't do handshakes, sorry. Just a personal thing.'
Madame Lacroix looked him up and down from over her nose, which was an impressive act as she stood a good head shorter than him. After a moment, she dropped her hand and the matter, turning back to Derek once more.
'Madame,' Derek started. 'We just want to ask a few questions about Roxy Vega. We understand she was... one of your own for a while now. Is that correct?'
'Yes,' she answered, her painted face taking on a contemplative, even fond expression at the mention of Roxy. 'She'd been with us around eleven months. Some of the girls were supposed to take her out this coming weekend to celebrate. Geez, did those girls love partying.'
'How so?' Spencer inquired.
That snake-like gaze whipped back to him in an instant. 'They would have weekends away once every couple of months. Fancy yachts, expensive clothes, gourmet restaurants. One time, they went to the Greek Isles for a week.' She shrugged nonchalantly. 'But they could always pay for it. My girls are the best at what they do. So much so they are able to pay me and keep a good amount of earnings for themselves. And before you ask, everything is perfectly legal here, I have papers.'
'We're not really interested in that, Madame Lacroix,' Derek continued. 'You say Roxy was part of a, shall we say, an exclusive group in your establishment.'
'If you're implying that I play favourites, I don't, agent,' Madame Lacroix said, her tone dancing with silent threat. 'All my girls work the same hours, and relatively earn the same amount. It's completely on them if they decide to form friendships or alliances wth one another.'
'Was the girl who found her in that group too?' Spencer asked for Derek.
She nodded. 'Usually, Roxy and her girls don't let newcomers into their group. And if they do, it's not until they're a few months into working here. But yeah, Serena was pulled into that group from the moment she got here only three months ago.'
'Do you know where she was before The Chateau?' Derek asked.
'Yeah, she was uptown at a strip club, Guilty Pleasure. I know the guy who runs the place, and I don't blame her for leaving.'
Guilty Pleasure. The name rung familiar with Spencer, and so he pulled Derek away a little to whisper in his ear. 'That's the club Larissa used to work at.'
'And what are the odds that Larissa is now dead?' Derek added, eyes lighting with recognition. He quickly turned back to Madame Lacroix, urgency written on his face. 'Madame, there have been three other girls found in similar fashions to Roxy.'
For the first time since she entered the room, she didn't appear in control of everything happening. Her face dropped and a look of confusion and shock reflected in her eyes. 'Three other girls? Oh my goodness...'
'If you'd like, we can continue this talk in your office?' Derek offered, to which she nodded and began walking towards the podium, which Spencer now realised was in front of twin staircases heading downwards either side.
'I usually conduct private business at night, so my office is down in the Pit where I can make sure my girls are okay,' she explained as they descended into the a dimly lit bar reminiscent of the roaring 20s.
A giant glass chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling, providing enough light to see the retro bar to the left, the cabaret setup of chairs and tables that faced the small stage at the far end of the room, and the empty booths where more settees and lounges sat with curtains drawn back for now. Again, Spencer was struck by how much it felt like stepping back in time. It was truly impressive.
Spencer halted, however, when Madame Lacroix stopped and turned back to face them, genuine concern furrowing her perfectly plucked brows. 'You don't think Serena has anything to do with this. Do you?' she asked.
'We don't know that for certain,' Derek answered. 'But we would like to have a talk with her so we can start clearing up this mess. Do you know where we can find her?'
She nodded, then pointed to a door over their shoulders. 'She's here doing stocktake for me today, actually. She does so on occasion when my workmen are busy with other jobs. A load just came in this morning. You can found her sorting through it out back in the loading bay.'
'Thank you,' Spencer said before turning to speak with Derek. 'I'll go talk with her while you finish here.'
'Shout if something goes wrong, okay?' Derek warned, to which Spencer agreed and made his way to the back door.
He couldn't stop his nose from scrunching as the scent of rotten food and heavy alcohol wafted up it. Giant bins were pressed against the far corner of the loading bay, but it wasn't a very big room, so the smell was easily detected.
Looks like the stocktake room doubles as the bin room, he thought as he stepped further into the bay, where crates were stacked taller than him with food, glassware, alcohol. Amongst the stacks was a shuffling of feet, then a hard thud that resulted in a harsh cry and an 'Ouch!'
'Hello?' Spencer called out while searching his way through the stacks. What did a brothel need with so much stuff anyways? 'Serena?'
'Over here!' a heavy Brooklyn accent replied. Spencer followed the voice, finding a hunched over woman cradling her exposed toe. She wore burnt orange platform wedges with jeans and a white tank top that left little to the imagination of a one Dr. Spencer Reid. Her hair was a puffy mess of curls like the blowouts back in the 80s, and it was so big he couldn't see her face.
'Are you okay,' he said, rushing over to help, but she just held up a hand, her face still covered.
'Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, doll,' she replied hastily, shakily. 'Just hit my toe, is all.'
'Well, here, let me get you some ice-'
'That's not necessary, hun. Really.'
'Well, at least let me have a look at it. You might've gotten a splinter in it or-'
'Stop.'
He was already bending down when the word hit him. But not just the word, but the voice that came with it. It was different to the Brooklyn accent now. It was... familiar.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as familiarity turned into recognition; and when he looked up from his half-squat position, he froze where he was and stared. Because the woman he saw wasn't an unrecognisable face of some girl called Serena.
His mouth had gone dry at the shock, and so he gulped a few times, trying to find the words he'd been holding back for months. But instead, only one word came to the surface.
'Y/N?'
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deathlieteez · 8 months
Text
ATTENTION (3.2)
yunho x reader
♡ attention series masterlist ♡ ┋chapter 1┋chapter 2.1┋chapter 2.2┋chapter 3.1
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chapter 3, part 2: (the grudge) the truce. yunho shows up at your house on friday night even when he told you he'd be busy, and his attitude tells you that something is definitely going on. you feel like he can talk to you through his hands, his kisses and the way he looks at you. he's decided to get you, for the first time since he broke your heart, showing a little more of your most sincere feelings.
appears: yunho as your exboyfriend x femb!reader + choi seungcheol (seventeen) as ur best friend.
genre: angst, smut, a little fluff. college au.
warning: unprotected sex (be careful hun♡), cursing, mean/heartbroken reader, heartbroken yunho, petnames, oral receiving (yunho)
word count: 6.8k (sorry)
intentional use of lowercase letter
english is not my mother tongue
songs i get inspired by: i hate u i love u - gnash + die for you - the weeknd ft. ariana grande + collide - justine skye ft. tyga + i feel like im drowing - two feet + creepin' - the weeknd + if you want love - nf + sorry, i love you - stray kids + we go down together - dove cameron ft. khalid
it is not meant to be representative of jeong yunho's personality or any ateez or another groups' idols who appeared ♡
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ♡ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
when friday night finally arrived, you were ready to go out. again, a tight dress hugged your curves gracefully, and together with your make-up gave you the femme fatale look you enjoyed building on. seungcheol looked you up and down several times as you finally came out of your room. it was the first time you didn't let him watch you change, and although it made him curious and a little confused, he didn't say anything, respecting your space and privacy. after all, you hadn't had sex for a while either, managing to subtly reject him, even though it was completely obvious to him. he didn't say anything about it either, because his friendship with you was much more important. however, once he could see your body move clearly under that revealing, skimpy piece of fabric, his head stopped cooperating for a moment, letting the part of him that wanted you to death speak once more "my god, you look beautiful" he mused, almost in a whisper as you walk towards him with a necklace in your hand that you're unable to put on by yourself, letting out a small laugh.
"so you like it?" seungcheol carefully pushes the hair away from your back, watching you cocking your head slightly unconsciously. the curve of your neck makes him swallow hard, imagining how amazingly good a few of nibbles and hickeys would look decorating your delicate skin, and that he would gladly make.
"love it" confesses, unfastening the chain effortlessly. you feel his hands slide down your bare arms from your shoulders next, his breath hot against your earlobe. you tensed slightly, even though it's actually a fairly familiar sensation. but lately can't help but mistake desire for guilt when you're not focusing your attention on yunho, much to your chagrin, so instead of being turned on, any contact with a man other than your fucking ex is repulsive to you.
cursing yourself under your breath, knowing there is very little to be subtle about now that you are alone and there is no obvious excuse or reason to stop something you both enjoyed so much not so long ago, "but think i would like it better lying on the floor" he whispers, "we don't have to go today" suggests then, the breath in your lungs preventing you from speaking, nor do you have the courage to turn around and ask him to stop running his hands down your sides, anticipating the feel of your bare skin. you felt really bad. cheol was your best friend and in bed he worked wonders, so there was no reason to say no. besides, in his eyes, you hadn't had sex for literally months, and he had been drooling over you for just as long, and the memory of your beautiful body writhing under his touch, the same one that made you so uncomfortable right now, "what are you saying, beautiful? i missed you like crazy" with the first kiss on the hollow of your neck, you can't take it anymore and finally turn around, abruptly moving away from him.
a lot has changed in you, in fact you'd swear that everything has, but you'd be lying - you were still a terribly faithful and devoted person. it seemed like that was one of your greatest virtues as well as a fucking curse, because losing your desire for any other guy but fucking jeong yunho was out of the question. but it was impossible to avoid it. his image came to your mind every time you even tried to dance with someone else, and when someone touched you, your skin practically burned with the desire that it was none other than yunho. at first you tried to silence all these thoughts, tried to silence all the voices in your head that told you it wasn't him, but after a while you decided to accept it, and so the number of times you saw yunho increased considerably, though neither of you complained. despite the fact that you had to be completely honest with yourself, and thanks to this dialog that was only going on with you in your head, the only time you really found this strange mania of having only yunho in your bed annoying was when it involved seungcheol.
although he never pressured you in any way, you saw the disappointment in his eyes every time you rejected him with excuses and sweet words. he told himself that it was okay, that being your friend was more than enough, and it was true, or it would be if you never stopped flattering him, touching him, and getting close to him as if could never refuse anything he had to offer. for you, this was just the nature of your relationship, and had not yet fully understood the strong sexual component hidden in your little games and frictions, so you never stopped them, and cheol never stopped thinking about you sexually. that's why when practically pushed him out of your atmosphere, with an uncomfortable smile on your face, which, by the way, was hell red, he could only ask, "am i missing something? did something wrong?" sounded slightly offended, although he tried to hide his frustration to not look childish, blaming you for not wanting to have sex with him anymore.
you sigh and close your eyes tightly as you mentally debate whether or not it's a good idea to tell him the truth. you knew that seungcheol would support you in whatever decided because he truly loved you, but after everything that happened you felt stupid and didn't know if you were strong enough to put into words what was going on. didn't care if yunho's friends knew, because their opinion seemed to be irrelevant to you, but your own friends… that's another story. obviously chaeyoung had deduced something from some hint you dropped from time to time, but the rest had no idea, and cheol made it clear at that moment, completely lost and frustrated "you didn't do anything wrong, cheolie" stammered, scratching the back of your neck in search of courage, "it's just that… there's something that…" you were about to say his name, about to put the relationship that had hurt you so much and over which you had cried so much with seungcheol himself back on the table, ready - or not so ready - to make a fool of yourself in front of the man who had warned you over and over again to kick him back to his fucking house if he came back. not only did you not kick him any of the times he came back, you went to his fucking house to look for him yourself, but as if you had said it, the doorbell rings, saving you for a few seconds from making a fool of yourself.
"i'll get the door, you keep trying to formulate a sentence that makes sense" he sneered, disappearing into the hallway for a moment. you heard the door open but nothing else, neither a greeting nor footsteps returning to the living room, so you asked who it was, raising a voice, "i don't think you need to explain anything to me anymore" seungcheol appeared around the corner of the hallway, his completely inquisitorial face peering out, both eyebrows raised and lips flattened into a thin line. you followed him with the worst feeling in your stomach, which was confirmed when you met yunho's slender figure in front of your door. his face was serious, had no doubt why, but could still see the anxiety lurking behind his gaze. without a word, he entered your apartment and bumped seungcheol with his shoulder, who laughed ungracefully and held his breath, trying to control himself when he looked at you.
"can we talk about this later?" you muttered, avoiding his gaze at all costs. he felt a pang of disappointment, no longer because he almost certainly knew what was going on - although anything to do with fucking yunho would have touched his balls just the same - but because you had kept it from him since god knows when. however, he said nothing more about it and just nodded, giving you the benefit of the doubt. kissed your forehead before saying "if anything happens, call me. i'll be here in a second" you smiled at him and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek, encouraging him to leave.
you had something important to sort out at your house, you knew it just by looking at his face, without having to say a single word. after all, you've been close for years, so you knew yunho better than yourself, although now you can't be sure of anything. it was already past eleven o'clock at night, but you expected him to have spent the whole day with those "plans" that weren't with his friends, and apparently wouldn't let him spend the night with you, so were quite surprised, but not upset. you didn't mind arriving later than the others, you would soon catch up with them, you were much more curious as to why yunho was at your house. when you closed the door behind you, you could see your ex in an almost frantic state. he started pacing around the room, head down, staring at the floor as if searching for answers in the wood grain of the worn parquet, desperately trying not to make his point. without coming out of shock, you tried to talk to him "yunho, what are you doing here, is everything ok?" being careful not to be too harsh, maybe just a little distance, but make sure you didn't push his boundaries too much, not then he seemed to be completely gone.
"had to see you" confessed without any shame. indeed, the anxiety had already wreaked havoc on his nervous system, and when you approached him, knew that the alcohol had been there as well. you rubbed your face with both hands, worried on the inside, tired on the outside. "what didn't expect was to see him" he growled, again uncensored. he knew for sure that it would never be a good idea to bring seungcheol into the conversation, because you would defend your friend tooth and nail, but he didn't care at that moment. all yunho wanted to do was see you. he needed to touch you, smell you, hear you, have you close to him. he was lucky to find you still at home because he didn't want to do it surrounded by a bunch of sweaty people with the frantic rhythm of a song in the background that would force him to dance. he wanted intimacy, once again.
you are sincere this time, making his eyes travel to yours for the first time, raising one of his eyebrows, unsure if he heard right. he looked so pitiful at that moment that you tried to comfort him, even if it was with lies? more than pitiful, in your eyes he looked defeated. something you had always been very good at, from the moment you met him, was reading him. you knew when he was happy, sad, excited, horny, hurt… and of course, defeated. you'd only seen him like that once in your whole life, but that day, which was nothing else than the day everything went to shit between you, stuck in your mind and with it yunho's expression. how he watched you walk away, without being able to do anything but look away, unsettled him second by second; oddly enough, he looked exactly the same at that moment. although apparently everything would be a matter of time that night.
"i shouldn't care, should i?" he let out a bitter laugh and dropped his body onto your couch, his legs spread wide and his head resting on the back with his eyes completely closed. you hated to admit it, but you were genuinely worried about him, so you were frustrated because you didn't know how to try and help him without giving him the fucking privilege of seeing that you still cared about his fucking well being. you took a deep breath and followed him to the couch, sitting carefully across from him on the little cafe table.
"no, u shouldn't" you state, yunho sighs.
"why do you have to make everything so fucking complicated?" he suddenly says, confusing you even more "why can't you just be a normal girl? talk about fucking feelings, learn to forgive, not act like you don't give a shit about everything" he growls, this time rubbing his face "i'd love to understand how i got to fuck with your head so much, or maybe you were already like that before i met you" he thinks out loud, making you laugh. he had a certain reason that it would be stupid to deny: you didn't have an answer for that either. the ideas in your mind confused reality and fiction every time, involuntarily, the logic in your head tried to make sense of what was still going on with yunho. when you looked at your reflection in the mirror once you kicked him out of the house, who you saw was not yourself. sometimes felt that you were playing a role, that what you were doing had only a childish and - a bit - cruel purpose, but then you found yourself comfortable and strong in your new skin, enjoying the way yunho came back to you again and again, and, damn, you loved how he needed you, so much that, maybe, you started to need him too. that's why, and for your own pride, you always used to opt for keeping your composure, for keeping that role.
your laughter is not subtle, but thunderous and full of sarcasm, which gets his attention again. he leans back on the couch to see your smile, which actually hides a terrible desire to punch him in the face with an open hand. licking your lower lip, you lean forward and close the distance a bit, showing a little more of your cleavage - obviously yunho is quick to take a first look "m going to be nice to you, whether you deserve it or not, and 'm going to shut the fuck up because i can see u're really fucked up" your voice is soft, doing a great job of controlling yourself, something you've perfected over time thanks to him "but don't know how far my patience will go, so if you just came here to spew bullshit out of your mouth, can go tell it to yourself in the mirror.
yunho's gaze sharpens on you, feeling the blood in his body begin to rush hard through his veins as his heartbeat increases. the memories of a few hours ago come flooding back to his mind: smiles, caresses, promises. with you now, all he gets is sarcasm and sourness. yet for some twisted reason that eludes his logic, he wants more. he was tired of always wanting more than you could offer, even if it was just that condescension and coldness, followed by a few kisses and a fuck. he suffered like a fool, but was addicted to you, and seeing the person you were now, he didn't understand why. A nasal laugh anticipates the movements of his body, which is already attracted to yours as if you were a big magnet and he a weak and light piece of metal. he enjoys seeing you, smelling your perfume and almost feeling your aggressive but attractive fucking attitude penetrate his head. you enjoy it too. you enjoy how his gaze moves quickly around all the corners of your face, taking longer to notice your lips, your cleavage and your naked thighs. You enjoy how he takes the initiative to get closer to you. and you enjoy it even more when you hear him say the following: "i came to see you because it's you who fucked me to the core," he growls again, carelessly placing the palm of his hand on your thigh, covering it almost effortlessly. tightening his grip, you tilt your head to the side with an unfriendly smile on your face.
"if you don't like it, just go" you say, while being absolutely sure that yunho wouldn't do that. he couldn't leave you, because he needed you as much as you needed him. a grin appears on his face, but it is far from being sweet. his tongue runs along his lower lip, grabbing your wrist to pull you towards him, pulling you effortlessly, because you would let yourself be carried away by whatever yunho could offer you. that was the only truth, one that you would never admit and that you would take with you as a secret confession, but he was still the only person in the world who could make you feel so much and so intensely with so little. a look, a touch, a kiss, even a word. in the same second, you could hate him with all your heart and crave him as if he were your last meal. you also missed him deeply when he was gone, because obviously bringing your ex back after living together for so long had consequences. weren't sure how you felt about him, but what you did know was that you weren't interested in finding out, focusing all your efforts on keeping your cool as much as you could - which was too much for yunho - and not letting anything resembling the word love come up again, because it was obvious that you still resented him deeply.
when you are close enough, he doesn't need much to pull you from your hips and make you sit on his lap. you put both hands on his shoulders for support, while he caresses the line of your sides over the fabric of your new dress. for a few seconds, you remain silent, eyes fixed on each other, like trying to speak without saying a word. however, you don't quite understand what's happening, why suddenly yunho looks and feels completely different. his gaze on you is somehow different, something you've never seen in him before. "you don't want me to go" his voice is soft and rough, as if he's trying to hypnotize you with a melody similar to the hamelin flute. another battle raged inside you: could you be honest again and let yourself be carried away by a side of yunho you seemed to be getting to know at that moment, or continue with the role.
was it right to give in even a little to someone who had broken your heart? despite what he might think, you felt weak in his arms because you knew for a fact that you shouldn't be there. but there was something about the way he touched you that kept you coming back. it was probably an obsession, a dark desire that he would never leave your sheets, no matter how badly you treated him, no matter how he made you feel. told yourself that you deserved to have him and that he deserved everything you did, like it was your personal sweet revenge. but moments like that, when he looked at you as if he knew your every secret and still wanted to discover you beyond the layers of clothes and skin he always ended up exploring, moments when it wasn't just desire you read in his pupils, when you could still read love and admiration in his eyes… moments like that made you vulnerable to him.
"you've done it so many times before, sweetie" without giving in to the pang in your chest and the need to tell him he was right your words echoed bitterly through yunho's head with an infinite echo. you yourself could see his face darkened slightly. and then he didn't know exactly what he had come to do beyond satisfying his thirst of you- he felt different, things were changing and there seemed to be no return, so he hoped, foolishly, that you could understand him by the way he had come to you that day, because that's the kind of connection he always trusted you two shared. he didn't really know what he was surprised about or what he was waiting for. you don't want me to go, he said it more to himself than to you. he needed to hear you say it. ask him to stay, because if not… he was afraid he wouldn't (want) be able to come back.
he squeezed his eyes shut as he thought of her again. short brown hair that made her look so adorable against the roughness of your figure; her beautiful smile full of promise, empathy and compassion; her slender, slim body that felt so delicate under his huge hands and that he had been able to enjoy almost completely just a few hours ago. only one thing stopped him from devouring the sweetest girl he had ever met after you, and that was exactly you. he felt like he would be letting you down if he just did it, and felt like the dumbest person in all of south korea because was - wrongly - sure that you were still fucking around, especially with choi damn seungcheol. so when he apologized to her for not going all the way, came to you like a madman. the taste of her lips was still present on his, just like her perfume was still on your ex's skin, but you were so lost in what you already knew that you didn't notice any of it. for you, seeing him close his eyes was a sign of pain, but the reality was that he wasn't even thinking about you.
his hands left your body to cup your face this time, caressing it with his thumb as he slowly opened his eyes to meet yours. you were confused and he could see it clearly, loving to see you like this, finally a little more vulnerable. he enjoyed it as much as it tortured him. sighed softly before he said, "when i've really done it, u're going to miss me" another overwhelming truth that made your chest tighten at the thought, but again you didn't let him know that he had hit the key. what would happen when this was over? you didn't want to think about it. just the thought of it, awakened a new wave of desire and need in you, to hold him close, to taste him. you tried to move closer to him, to finally join your lips, but he stopped you "so beautiful" he whispered "it hurts just to look at you" with the words coming straight from his throat, you swallowed, soaking in a new sensation under his touch. "and we fit so well together" he left your cheeks to lower one of his hands to your waist while he outlined your face with the other. aware of his own movements, he left a soft kiss on your chin, "your all drive me crazy" as his fingers trailed down your skin, a trail of wet kisses erasing the path he had drawn with his touch. felt your chest shrink as your panties soaked with each new contact of his lips. you had no idea what he was up to, nor how it made you feel, but there was no way you were going to stop him. "if you had asked, i would have done anything for u, know that, right?" he looked at you again, this time sinking his fingers into the bare skin of your thigh as his words penetrated your head. you didn't want to say anything anymore, afraid to break whatever it was doing to you.
yunho was pushing the boundaries you had set for him and would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised you allowed it, but was glad you didn't stop him as he worshipped you for a damned long time. it was as if it was written in the stars, probably the most opportune day for you to let him show something beyond a hard cock and how good he could make you feel with his body. felt like saying goodbye to him, even though you couldn't recognise what was happening. your eyes moved silently to his lips as he spoke his words to you, and yunho felt his heart ache as he watched you wanting him in a different way. you respected what he desired at that moment, which was nothing more than to worship you, and it felt slightly as if time had not passed. nostalgia overcame him and he had to fight back the tears in his heart at the memory of a sweeter version of you, madly in love with him and not heartbroken because of him. he would have given anything to keep you like that forever, to freeze the vague feeling of recovery, to satisfy the grief that tormented him for having lost you.
it was an idea he had recently accepted. he had lost you, and the one who was with him so many nights these last months was not you, it was the memory of you, a mere shadow that could only comfort him for a while, because you no longer wanted him. because yunho was sure that there was no more room for him in your heart, so he decided that for his own sake he should leave you behind, though not yet. "do you want to kiss me?" asked with a trembling voice, and you nodded without taking your eyes off his mouth, which was smiling slightly. he didn't want to prolong it either, so he finally let his lips caress yours first, gently, letting his breath creep down your throat as a foretaste of his own tongue, which attacked your mouth as soon as you could really feel it. hands travelled down your back until they reached the zip of your dress, letting it fall gently through your skin, using his hands to remove the fabric from your shoulders, following the same path that seungcheol had just followed. the difference was that it felt good now. it was good because it was yunho who was touching you.
you didn't know what was different this time, but your skin reacted to it by making even the hairs on your body stand up, causing yunho to smile in the kiss as he brushed the skin on your arms. oxygen was getting scarce, but you didn't care, you wanted to go on, you wanted to devour him in the sweetest way possible "seems you missed me" the voice is soft against your lips, but you stand firm with the little conviction you have left, at least until he asks you to "tell me, please" resting your forehead on his, closed your eyes tightly, gathering the courage to confess.
"yes" you whispered, "thought i wouldn't see you today" he was still looking at you, still holding on to the memory of your awkwardly made-up eyelashes, with an extra black lump that curved upwards as if they had no end, the curve of the bridge of your nose and the way your cheekbones outlined your pretty face. yunho wanted you to open your eyes, but you were still too cowardly.
"that bothered u?" he whispered, stroking your hair "not being able to see me today" you nod, breathing deeply with your lips sealed. don't know why, but a handful of tears threaten to leave your eyes, so you pushed them shut tight before opening them. his were full of tears too, along with something that, again, you couldn't identify mixed with a very, very sweet smile "so you want me to be here" he says and you nod again, as if you've forgotten your role and even how to articulate a word.
for yunho it was enough. he had got what he wanted, as if he finally reached the end of a very complex book, as if he had discovered you. but even though he was satisfied, he wasn't well. he was sad, and he knew that even if his whole body asked him to kiss you again, which he certainly would, it wouldn't be the solution. despite knowing this, his lips met yours briefly before the kisses traced a new path down your skin, your chin, then your body and finally your breasts, exposed as the fabric of your dress fell over your hips. used both hands to lift the skirt of your dress, exposing your underwear, which he immediately removed so that you could feel for the first time the mess he had made of you, just with his kisses and his words. at this point yunho wanted to taste you as soon as possible, and he could just fuck you and satisfy the bulge that was already growing painfully under the cloth of his trousers, but would be missing a wonderful opportunity to enjoy you. looked up at him almost anxiously, tilting your body back slightly, leaning on your arms on the small table so you could spread your legs for yunho. he dug his fingers into the skin of your thighs, leaving wet kisses on the inside, and made his way to your cunt. with his teeth he pulled your lingerie aside and licked your clit without waiting, making you sigh. you trembled at the sensation, as if you hadn't fucked him the day before, as if you hadn't seen him for ages. yunho increases the strength in his grip on your thighs before he releases one of them and you use his fingers inside your completely flooded hole, smiling with pleasure as he hears a moan catch in your throat when he slips two fingers in at once. he knows your body, knows how to make you see the fucking stars and is doing it when you've only just started.
he abused your hole with his fingers, licking your clit like it was his last meal, and you were embarrassed even by the amount of moaning and pleading that came from your lips as you felt your orgasm unfold in the pit of your stomach. buried one of your hands in his hair, pressing it against your pussy while fucking his mouth with your hips. yunho fought against everything in his goddamned being not to fuck you right then and there, deciding to make you come in his mouth before he fucked you senseless "fuck, fuck, fuck" the pitch of your voice is quite high, unable to contain yourself. yunho's tongue flicks harder than thought possible, you try to push him away at the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm, but he sinks his head hard between your legs until a deep moan leaves your throat and you breathe again, albeit unsteadily, as you cum in your ex's mouth. yunho, without any regrets and swearing he could only cum from the scene he's just experienced and your completely banged up image, licks every drop, tasting you.
your hot body glistening in a thin layer of sweat, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch the breath you didn't know you were holding. shit, you were amazing to him. from another fucking world. "that was…" you mumble, unable to find words good enough. yunho grins at you again, this time full of pride, and stands up to kiss you, giving you a taste of your essence. he moans against your lips as he feels your hand on the bulge in his pants, on the verge of tears from the need to sink into you.
"drop my pants the fuck down" he growled, making you laugh, but obeyed without hesitation. you unbuckled his belt in the middle of the kiss, not without difficulty, then took over his buttons and pulled them down roughly, eliciting a moan from deep in his throat that he stifled by biting down a little harder on your lower lip. "to bed," he demanded.
"how about we end it here? i don't want to wai-" you try to sound seductive, but his voice, so much harder and deeper than yours, cuts you off.
"today i'm gonna fuck you in bed" he demands again, forcing you to get up. you start to walk in front of him, jumping a little when you feel his hand hit your ass. you're not surprised by the act itself, because actually yunho has always been like this, but he hasn't been like this with you for a long time. he liked to feel you, to play with you, to show you that every part of you pleases him at every moment, and to touch your ass and then hug you from behind and kiss your shoulder gently, as if he hadn't just finished eating your pussy was part of his love language.
"and these urges, where do they come from?" asked with a hint of amusement in your words. when finally reached your room, yunho pushed you onto the bed and climbed on top of you, resting his knees on either side of your hips. the corners of his lips were also raised, showing an amused grimace.
"i want you to think of me tomorrow when you wake up" he confessed, kissing your lips briefly, "and whenever you go to bed" another little kiss.
"we've fucked here tons of times" you said, raising your eyebrows.
"today is going to be so much better," he whispered against your lips, coming within inches of your face as he removed his boxers. you helped him with the shirt, revealing his slightly toned but mostly slender torso, his smooth, almost porcelain skin and his incredibly broad shoulders. you ran your hands over his skin, admiring him for the first time in a long time. yunho didn't know if the tears he felt caking his chest were from happiness or sadness.
"you're amazing too, yuyu" with your words, yunho closed his eyes again, like he was trying to remember your voice as you confessed your biggest secret to him. now it was your turn to appreciate how incredibly beautiful his face was. his naturally shaped, beautiful pink lips, his big, slanted eyes, closed and adorned with hundreds of eyelashes, the straight bridge of his nose or the hot way his hair stuck to his dirty skin with sweat, even though he hadn't even fucked you properly yet. you cupped his face with both hands to bring your lips together again, "what are you waiting for? make me miss you every time you're not here" his eyes snapped open, taking a few minutes to stare at you almost in disbelief before his gaze focused on you and a confident grimace crossed his face.
what the fuck was that and why did you have to tell him that night? it was as if you suddenly knew what was about to happen, even though in reality you were just letting yourself go for the first fucking time. he aligned his cock, hard to the point of pain, with your entrance and let out a little laugh in anticipation of the first thrust. he didn't bother to be gentle, ramming you again and again, hitting your g-spot and making you moan each other's names like a mantra, bringing you together in a frenzy you hadn't felt in a long time. yunho watched as you arched beneath him, your eyelids shut tight and your hands lost behind his back, digging your nails into his skin as you moaned and cursed at how good it felt. there was nothing different about his actions; he wasn't fucking you differently, he wasn't kissing you differently or even touching you in new ways, what made him better than ever was that you were allowing feelings to creep in beyond pure pleasure and that was taking you so much higher without you even knowing it.
just like yunho, who melted into you every time you groaned his name as if it was the only word in your vocabulary. he placed his hands on your hips and deepened his cock inside you, making you tremble. he knew by the way your walls absorbed it that you were close, so he made sure to stimulate your clit as well. "why do you always feel so incredibly good, jagiya? " he whimpered over your lips "even more stunning when my cock is stuffing you. look at that, when did u become so needy?" your chest rose and fell with difficulty as you felt your orgasm approaching for the second time with the help of his fingers and his voice "you're the best thing i've ever seen in my whole fucking life" as you arched your back and got another access to your insides, yunho had to restrain himself not to screw it up. not to say something that had always stuck in his throat, from the first day until today, and that he feared forever, even though he didn't want to "going to cum, aren't you, beautiful?" he grunted instead, bringing his free hand to the curve of your neck and squeezing lightly. you nodded with tears running down your cheeks, feeling yourself getting closer and closer "cum on my cock, jagiya, 'm close too" with his words, you pushed his face to yours with both hands to kiss him again.
you savoured his mouth with your tongue for a few more minutes before you moaned loudly against his lips, absorbing his cock with your walls like there was no tomorrow, pushing him into his own orgasm as well.
after a few seconds he dropped his body next to you and quickly wrapped you in a hug. you were so close, in such a different way, that you were afraid that even yunho could hear your heartbeat, which was beating particularly fast, not only from the recent orgasm, but from the way he felt it on your skin. he kissed your forehead and it was then that you dropped practically all your barriers and lay down on his side so that you could hug him tightly as well. yunho bites his lower lip, wanting to cry out all the things he's feeling right now, completely lost in you, while you sink your head into the hollow between his chest and neck. it's just then that you notice a new scent on his skin. a sweet, floral, distinctly feminine one. and it wasn't yours. fatigue grows in your stomach and you gasp for air, wondering if it's just your imagination, if your brain is playing tricks on you because you gave in to yunho. whether it's true or not, you wanted to cry at that moment too. "can i stay tonight?" his voice was almost a plea, and for a moment you thought you understood what was going on.
with fear forming a lump in your throat, feeling too much and trying not to ask if it was true what had just crossed your mind, you answered him "please".
that night, when yunho didn't let go of you for a single second, you wished with all your heart and soul that time would stand still. that this bed, which suddenly felt so much like home when he held you between the sheets, would hold you forever. it was a terrible feeling and it burned like hell, but you let yourself be caught up in it, at least for that night. you let yourself fall for him and for everything he made you feel, even if didn't want to name it, just for that night. yunho didn't feel much different from you, only he could recognise how he felt about you. he still loved you, and he always had. but you hurt him, and he knew that the truce you had signed today would not last beyond next morning. it was necessary, it had to be like this. because he had made a deal with someone else, and because you didn't deserve him to break that promise for you. so as soon as the first drops of light came through your curtains, yunho left your house. he kissed your forehead in tears and stayed for a few minutes to watch you sleep, to imprint your image on his retina, before he walked out the door for the last time, again without saying goodbye, denying you the chance to see him suffer for you once more.
when you wake up a few hours later, the first thing you notice is his absence. you sigh, feeling empty and blaming yourself for letting him spend the night. when you pick up your phone, among several messages from chaeyoung, blaming you anyway because she knows exactly why you didn't show up at the party, there's one from yunho.
see you tonight.
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hi thereeee. im so sorry for the late, but i am really busy these days with college and i have any time for writting or doing anything else than studying :( in this part i think i've gone tooooo much, but i cant help myself and this is only the aftertaste to the last part (which is already written, just need to be translated).
hope u enjoyed and see u soon, lots of loveee ♡
☆tags☆ @yeosangsbb @atinyluv238 @livingdeadlisa @kunikku
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ♡ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
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jjkamochoso · 20 days
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The Perfect Fit
Story Overview: Levi Ackerman begrudgingly finds himself falling in love with the Survey Corps’ seamstress. Will they be able to own up to their feelings for each other? Or is their love doomed to fail before they discover the truths of each other’s hearts? This slow burn reader insert story will be filled with angst, yearning, and a bit of mystery as we slowly unravel the truths behind Y/N’s past… and explore her and Levi’s future!
Chapter 3
Chapter 2 linked here
Chapter 4 linked here
Levi Ackerman x female reader
Warnings: cussing, minor character death (not graphic)
As the hours rolled by with nobody from the surrounding villages showing up to their appointments with you, you started to get stressed out. Were they all a bunch of no shows on purpose? Your prices weren’t extravagant but you knew times were tough on everyone, especially after the breach of Wall Maria. Citizens of Wall Rose were fighting for their fair share of resources and jobs while refugees tried their best to not starve on the streets. It was a constant battle for food and wages for anyone outside Wall Sina and you hated to see people fighting amongst themselves when a much larger threat loomed right outside the failing walls. With nothing else to do, you took the time to look over Captain Levi’s torn cape and decide how you were going to mend it. Why did he do that in the first place? Was he taking pity on you? You didn’t mean to tell him all your financial woes, they just slipped out in the heat of the moment. Maybe he just wanted to test your skills with the sewing machine he got you? Yes, that had to be it. You had given the machine a trial run earlier and now you felt confident enough to use it on commissioned pieces. Taking in a deep breath to steady yourself in the midst of the most important project of your life, you got to work.
You sewed tirelessly throughout the afternoon and evening, barely stopping for breaks. You needed to be sure this cape was done before you took your horse into the village tomorrow to see a veterinarian. Speaking of your horse, you heard her let out a long, high pitched whinny. You quickly pushed your chair away from the table and hurried outside. She looked even sicker than she did this morning—an extremely bad sign. She could barely stand, wobbling in her pasture. There was no way she could make the journey into the village, you’d have to run there and ask for an emergency veterinarian house call. You began to cuddle up to her, whispering sweet nothings to her to calm her down, and you could tell she was becoming more and more content. Placing a long, sweet kiss to her snout, you reluctantly pulled away.
“Hold on for me, sweetheart. I’m going to get you some help. Just hang in there. Please.”
Your horse just looked at you and you prayed to whatever higher being might hear you that she understood your intentions. You ran back inside to grab a lantern and jacket for the run through the chilly night air. Taking one last look at your horse, you ran as fast as your legs could take you to the village with the vet.
You were sure that when you came running into the village you looked like a complete madwoman, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that you needed to get to the vet’s house as fast as humanly possible. When you saw his house, the front lantern thankfully still lit, you ran up to the door and pounded on it.
“Dr. Becker! Dr. Becker! Please, it’s an emergency! My horse is sick. I need your help, please!”
There was no answer. Your fists collided with the door mercilessly until finally there was movement behind the creaking wood.
“Don’t you realize how late it is, girl?” the older doctor asked, opening the door. He had a disgruntled look on his face that only slightly softened when he noticed how desperate and close to tears you were.
“Please, Dr. Becker, my horse is sick. She can barely stand, won’t eat, and she’s been coughing. I’m begging you, please do an emergency house call right now for her. I don’t know where else to go.”
He sighed, rubbing his hand on his face. “I’m off duty right now, you know.”
“I know. I have money,” you said, pulling out a pouch of coins and letting him inspect them to prove their authenticity. He let out a “hmmph!” and collected his medical bag.
“Come, child. Show me the way.”
When your house came into view, it took all you had to not climb out of the cart you were riding in to run and greet your beloved companion. As Dr. Becker parked his horses, you ran over to your own. She was lying down, completely still.
“No, no, no!” you exclaimed tearfully, your hand in front of her snout to check for breathing. There was none. Dr. Becker made his way over to you, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“I’ll check to make sure she’s truly gone before I leave.”
As he got on the ground to check her pulse, your mind was reeling. What were you going to do? You barely had enough money to cover the vet visit, there was no way you could afford a whole new horse! And what about your own house calls? You used to ride your horse into the village once a month to help out your elderly customers who couldn’t make the journey to your workshop. The kind veterinarian caught your eye and shook his head.
“I’m sorry. She’s dead.”
You were too numb to cry. In a daze, you handed the doctor your pouch of coins to cover the inconvenience of coming all this way, but he would only accept a third of the full payment.
“You need the money more than I do,” he explained, eyeing your deceased horse and ramshackle house. When he said goodbye and left, you realized you truly were alone. You didn’t know what to do with your horse’s body. It was going to be another hot day tomorrow and you didn’t want her to rot in the sun. It was too late at night to do anything about it, though, so you covered her with a sheet and went to bed.
The next morning was extremely difficult for you. You had to drag your body out of bed, the stresses of last night weighing you down. After you nibbled on a small breakfast, you heard a cart coming down your dirt path.
“Dr. Becker said there was a deceased animal here to dispose of?” one of the men had asked you when you walked outside. You confirmed, pointing the team to white sheet in the pasture. They loaded her onto the cart and you whispered a final farewell to your best friend and most faithful companion. Going back inside, you looked around you, gauging what work still needed to be done. You spied Levi’s cape in the same spot you discarded it hours prior. You knew that had to be finished first since he was coming to pick it up later today. You tried to drown yourself in the work but it didn’t distract you enough. When your tears landed on his cape, it took everything inside you not to scream out in frustration. You went to the bathroom to splash water on your face, hoping it would ground you. Instead, you just took notice of your unkempt appearance. Your life had gone from normal to shambles in a matter of hours and you were at a loss of what to do. It was difficult times like these that made you wonder if you made a mistake leaving Wall Sina…
No.
You couldn’t afford to dwell on things you can’t change. You could only look forward and that’s exactly what you were going to do. Getting ahold of yourself, you reminded yourself that Captain Levi entrusted you with his cape, meaning your career, at least, wasn’t in shambles. You had a great skill set that was near impossible to replicate so at least you had that going for you. You got back to work, still worried about your future but less distraught.
Another work day over, you awaited Levi’s arrival at your door for the pick up of his belonging. When the clock struck 5pm, you expected to hear him knocking at your door, but there was nothing. You didn’t know much about the man, but you knew he was always on time. You furrowed your brows when it turned to 5:10 and there was no sign of him. Was he going to stand you up like everyone else today?
BAM BAM BAM
Whoever was at your door, it certainly wasn’t the captain. You heard bickering on the other side of the door.
“Eren! You can’t pound on a door like that, especially if it’s a lady’s house!”
“Shut up, Armin. We’re in a hurry. I don’t need Captain Levi being any madder at us for being late than he already is.”
You opened the door to reveal a trio of teens.
“Ms. L/n! We’re here to pick up Captain Levi’s cape,” Armin said, a sweet smile on his face. You were well acquainted with these kids, mostly because they were always running into battle and ending up with torn uniforms (especially Eren—what on earth could he be doing to always end up with shredded shirts?).
“I’ll get that for you right away. Please, come in.”
The kids walked into your place, seemingly scrutinizing it.
“Yes, I know it’s dirty and falling apart. Your captain already lectured me on it.”
“That’s no surprise. He’s always in a bad mood,” Eren grumbled. You gave Armin the cape and Mikasa handed you the money. It was a large sum but you couldn’t even find it within your heart to be excited.
“Thanks you guys. Want any treats while you’re here?”
Their eyes lit up. Even Mikasa seemed to have a happier expression on her face as you handed them each a small piece of pastry you had made a few days prior. As they snacked, you noticed Mikasa eyeing your embroidery hoop.
“I do embroidery too. Anything you want, I’ll do it. Personal clothes or inside of uniforms. Names, symbols, whatever. Since you kids are almost single-handedly keeping me in business with all the clothes of yours I fix, the first few personalizations are on the house.”
Mikasa looked lost in thought, like she was remembering a long lost memory or something. All of a sudden, her face turned back to her near emotionless state. The three of them gave you their thanks and were ready to leave when Armin spoke up once more.
“Ms. L/n? Where’s your horse, I brought her a small apple slice. I know how much she loves them.”
You really didn’t want to cry in front of the kids over something so silly but you were close to breaking down.
“She died last night,” you explained, letting out a shaky breath. “She was sick for a short period and died in the 20 minutes I left to get the veterinarian.”
The blonde, upon hearing the news, gave you a big hug. “I’m so sorry, I knew how much you loved her. We all did.”
“What are you going to do now? Get a new one?” questioned Eren.
“I’m not sure yet, but that’s not for you kids to worry about. Now head back before Captain Grumpy finds out you’ve been messing around here too long.” When the kids and their horses were out of view, you let out another long sigh. What were you going to do?
Levi had been swarmed with meetings, swarmed with paperwork, swarmed with people bothering the shit out of him. He was in a worse mood than usual and anybody who got in his way felt his wrath. He felt bad for snapping at people, but his head just hadn’t been in the right place the past few days. Ever since his run ins with the seamstress, she hadn’t left his mind. She was strange to him, too happy go lucky for her own good. She was careless; who walks through forests without a horse these days? She was too kind for her own good. He was also jealous of the way y/n’s job was ridiculously ordinary. Being a seamstress in these times sounded woefully mediocre compared to fighting titans. It was, admittedly, still an important job. He gave her shit for showing preference to Hange’s uniforms, but if he was telling the truth, he would’ve never noticed that she wasn’t using a sewing machine. Her work was neat, precise—traits Levi could appreciate. The thing about y/n that bothered Levi the most was how damn pretty she was. Sure, he’d been attracted to a few women here and there, but they all paled in comparison. There was something about her that was magnetic, pulling Levi in, causing him to want to know more about her. This thought made him want to puke. He couldn’t get attached to any more people, he couldn’t afford to. Levi’s heart had been smashed into too many pieces by now, too many deaths he’d had to face of people he loved. His head was in the right place, trying to convince him to ignore her and focus on his duty as a soldier, but he found himself listening to his heart more and more. Finding that sewing machine for you was a pain in the ass since they were extremely hard to find, especially in working order. He had pulled some strings to get information, eventually buying one off a villager who’d “acquired” it in the interior. Then, him taking you home was something he’d never thought he would do for some stranger, especially letting you hold him in such a way that made his breath catch in his throat and his hands go clammy. The final nail in the coffin was when his fingers disobeyed any notion of common sense, ripping the biggest hole he could manage in his cape for you to fix so you could make some more money. It was no secret he had a soft spot for animals, but there was no reason he should’ve felt as bad for you and your horse as he did. Also, your house was a total wreck and he wanted to scream at Erwin for allowing you to reside there. When he thought back about his actions, he grimaced. You were just some girl he met a few days ago. How were you making such an impact in his life already? That’s why he made Eren and his friends pick up his cape. He needed to avoid you for as long as possible, needing a clear head and heart to save humanity, not pine over a random woman. He looked over the freshly fixed cape, admiring your handiwork. He could barely make out where you had sewed it back together. Your talent was a sight to behold and he was glad his intuition was right to put his trust in you. He placed the soft cloth into a drawer to wear another time and decided he needed some tea to clear his head. When he reached the cafeteria, he overheard the trio talking about you.
“That’s so sad about Ms. L/n’s horse. I wonder how she’s going to keep working without her,” Armin had said. Levi’s eyes widened slightly. Did your horse die that quickly? That would be bad news for you, personally, and him, professionally. He and the Scouts relied on you to come in half the week to do your work in the castle. There was no way you would be walking here and back, Levi would never allow you to put yourself in danger like that. He pretended not to listen, warming water in a kettle.
“I know. I feel bad for her, but there’s no way we can use the resources to keep traveling back and forth every time we need something fixed. It would be easier if she lived here.”
“Maybe if y/n lives here, you won’t have to do uncharacteristically nice things to spend time with her.”
Levi jumped at the sound of Hange’s voice unexpectedly in his ear. “Fuck off, four eyes. You almost made me spill my tea.”
Hange just laughed while Levi rolled his eyes. He hated to admit it, but Eren and Hange both had a point. If you worked for the Survey Corps, why wouldn’t you live with them? There was plenty of room here, it wasn’t like the place was overflowing with soldiers. He took his tea to go, finding solace in the quiet of his room. If Hange and the other soldiers wanted you to live here, fine. He just didn’t want to get involved with anything surrounding you. What did he care what you did, where you lived, what you spent your time doing? And where did Hange get the idea he wanted to spend time with you? Your meetings had been coincidental and ones of convenience. Whether or not you moved in with the Scouts, it would be of no matter to Levi. Like he thought before, he didn’t need another person to care about—you would die prematurely and leave him all alone, just like everyone else did.
Chapter 4
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misspearly1 · 1 year
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When Two Worlds Collide Series
Chp1 || Chp2 || Chp3 || Chp4 || Chp5 || Chp6 || Chp7 || Chp8
Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader x Arthur Morgan
Chapter Eight: Home
WC: 10k
Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Alternative TLOU & RDR2 Universe. M/F/M Relationship. Story events relating to in-game missions (Our Best Selves & Red Dead Redemption). Dutch being scary, intimidating and unhinged. Graphic Violence (death/murder/robbery. The usual rdr2 stuff). There’s some angst and tension between Joel, Arthur and Reader in this chapter, but I promise it isn’t what it seems. I don’t want to give away too much in the warnings lol. Light smut. Kissing & mentions of sex. Angst with a happy ending and some fluffy vibes. 
Spoiler Warnings in the AN notes below the cut. Please read carefully. 
AN: There are mentions of character deaths in this chapter. If you haven’t played RDR2 and do not wish to know about who dies, then don’t read this chapter, my loves. Otherwise, if you don’t mind reading about that, then you can continue with the story. I hope you’ve enjoyed this series, and while there is such a huge amount of plot that I’ve missed out (bc the game is humongous), there will be future one-shots to fill in the gaps. Thank you so much for reading <3.
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There’s a lot that can happen in the space of twenty-four hours. A lot of good things, and a lot of bad things that you cannot control no matter how much you try to. Some things aren’t meant to be controlled and that’s just, unfortunately, the way life goes. It’s plain and simple. You can try to go against fate, but what’s meant to be, will be. 
You could, however, try to plan something to perfection, but it’s bound to go wrong somewhere along the way. In one moment, you could be fine, and in the next, you could be so neck deep in shit that you don’t even know if you’ll make it out alive. A flawlessly executed plan cannot be achieved, especially not when it involves a mad-man who’s surrounded by a small group of paranoid men. 
In order to survive, there are risks you must be willing to gamble on, sacrifices that you need to take and life-saving decisions that need to be made in the heat of the moment. Freedom isn’t something that can be bought with money, even if you were the richest person in the world. It has to be paid for in blood, but the questions are: whose blood will be spilled, and who will survive? 
Well, there is a shortened version of what happened to the Van Der Linde gang in the last twenty-four hours, but the longer version would begin last night when Joel, Arthur and John returned to Beaver Hollow after blowing up Bacchus Bridge… 
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You hate this place; hate living in a camp where the air reeks of decayed flesh and rotten bones. It’s an ugly environment, and smells twice as bad as it looks. The gang moved here many weeks ago to avoid the law patrolling Saint Denis and the surrounding area, meaning you could no longer hideout at Shady Belle. That camp was no better anyway. The crocs made an appearance everyday and reminded you of your place in the food chain, which would depend on how good you are with a weapon or how fast you could run. 
Though, here at Beaver Hollow in the wooded area of Roanoke Ridge, you are reminded of the previous settlers that used to live in this camp everyday. The Murfree Brood gang. They are a homicidal group of individuals, territorial and just down-right inhumane. They were feared by many, and the locals told you of the horrifying things they used to do in these neck of the woods, hence the reason for that lingering smell of decayed flesh and rotten bones. It still remains in the air, and it burns the hairs in your nostrils and makes your stomach churn. 
You hate this place, but most importantly, you hate what this gang has become over the last several months. You hardly recognise some of the people anymore. Many are depressed and ready to call it quits, whereas others are just getting started with the savagery. It’s been many moons since you’ve felt a slither of peace and serenity, but hopefully, that will soon change. 
At the sound of hoofbeats drawing near camp, you snapped out of your thoughts and rose to your feet. “What the hell took ya’ll so damn long? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” You stormed toward the edge of camp as Joel and Arthur approached on their horses. The anger was palpable in your tone of voice and it caught the attention of many curious eyes within the gang as they all looked in your direction and watched the dispute unfold. 
You crossed your arms and waited for either of them to answer your questions, but all you got instead was some incoherent mumbling under their breaths as they rolled their eyes. This, of course, pissed you off even more and you went on to berate Arthur and Joel for their actions today. “Neither of you told me where you were going, nor did you even say goodbye. I had to find out you were blowing up a goddamn bridge from someone else!... Why didn’t you talk to me before you left?” 
“Because of this attitude right here.” Joel pointed to you, sighing. “Because you’ll complain about it and try to stop us from leaving. We have to blow up that bridge for the train robbery tomorrow.” 
You argued further and asked. “And why does it have to be you and Arthur? Why couldn’t someone else go with John? There’s plenty of people around here who're more than capable of handling explosives… I don’t even get why you have to blow up the fucking bridge in the first place.” 
“Darlin’, you must understand. It’s all part of Dutch’s plan to get outta here and gone for good.” Joel tried to calm you down, but it didn’t work as you waved your hands around and replied acidly. “You think I care about him? I don’t give a fuck about his goddamn plans!” 
“Check your tone, Y/N.” Arthur cut in now, his voice firm and his brows wrinkled with a mild warning. “I understand you worry for our safety, but we’re not little boys that you can boss around… We can take care of business without getting hurt, so don’t doubt, Dutch. He knows what’s best for us.” 
“Oh, so almost dying on many occasions now is ‘taking care of business’, right?” You made a gesture with your fingers when quoting him, and emphasized your dislike over their secret decision making. They went ahead with this job without talking to you about it first. “I thought we were a team, but apparently not… You left in the dark, and I don’t like that at all so don’t fucking do it again.” You concluded your argument before walking off, leaving them both to think about the mistake they made. 
Once you were out of their sight and had entered your tent, they turned to each other and shook their heads frustratingly, expressing just how much they couldn’t be bothered with another war of words. It was exhausting and they were just simply too tired to argue again tonight. As they dismounted their horses, the sound of snickering could be heard from the back of Beaver Hollow near the cave entrance. It was evident that Dutch and Micah found the altercation hilarious, whereas everyone else remained quiet and went back to what they were doing prior. 
Dutch was smirking as he watched Joel walk towards your tent, “Going to reconcile with the nag, I imagine.” He sneered, then rose to his feet to chat with Arthur and John as they came forth to report how they got on with the job today. “Well done, my son.” He clasped a hand over Arthur’s shoulder, praising him for how he handled the situation with you just now. The man simply enjoyed watching him put you in your place. It was entertaining indeed, but most importantly, the loyalty was most appreciated. 
“Ahh, she’s just frustrated, Dutch. Pay her no mind.” Arthur brushed off the compliment, grinning devilishly. “I’ll take care of that later tonight anyhow.” He uttered with a wink, insinuating that you needed some sexual attention and that was the reason for your outburst. The comment made the men chuckle amongst themselves, but the sound of your voice shouting in the distance cut through their laughter, causing each of them to turn and look towards your tent. 
“Hm.” Dutch hummed, then speculated confidently. “That doesn’t sound like frustration, my boy. It’s more like she’s ready to kill you both.”
Micah added to that, saying. “I don’t know how you put up with it day n’ night… Must be some good pussy, Arthur.”
“The best there is.” Arthur stated when turning to face them again, still wearing that devilish grin on his lips. “You need me for anything? I gotta go lend a hand before it gets real ugly in there.” They laughed with each other once again before Dutch shook his head, confirming that he didn’t need anything further. They’re all set for the day now and all that’s left to do is to wake up tomorrow, rob the train and from there, they can hop on a boat and flee to another country. 
Dutch doesn’t really care for the ongoing quarrels between you, Arthur and Joel. It doesn’t keep him up at night. He could care less, so long as you don't get in the way of his plans or take two of his most trusted allies away from him. Even if you do complain and kick up a fuss about it. To put it simply, Dutch is happy; everyone is happy. “Good luck in there. We’re rooting for ya, son.” He waved to Arthur as he walked away. 
Micah couldn’t resist the urge to provoke the man and suggested crudely. “If ya can’t handle that woman, send her over to me. I’ll shut her up for ya.” 
Arthur, however, didn’t give any reaction Micah was hoping for and simply shook his head with a quiet chuckle escaping his lips instead. Since his back was turned to them as he walked towards your tent, they couldn’t see the look of disgust on his face or the blind rage behind his darkened eyes, so they were none the wiser about how he truly felt at this exact moment. 
If there was a chance that he could get away with it, he would empty his gun into Micah and beat Dutch to the ground for their foul-mouthed remarks towards you this evening. It was sickening words to say about any woman, let alone the woman he’d lay down his life for and that pissed off Arthur beyond comparison.
Stay focused, he told himself as he exhaled calmly, trying to release some of that anger locked away deep within. It didn’t really work as well as he hoped it would. He was still angry, disgusted, and most of all, he was disappointed too; disappointed that it’s gone this far. 
Every day and night, Arthur wore a mask in front of everyone, but when he opened the tent and stepped inside, the man he truly is inside was revealed. “Are you ok, sweetheart?” He asked in a whisper, swallowing the lump of regret in the back of his throat. 
“Of course.” You nodded. Furrowing your brows with worry as you reached out to take his hand, you could see the way Arthur was appalled with himself for how he spoke to you a few minutes ago. He doesn’t like talking to you like that, but it was absolutely necessary and he had to make it look real. There was no other way to do it. “Wipe your eyes and come over here before anybody sees you, baby. It’s ok.” You reassured him quietly so that no one else could hear. 
“It’ll be over soon, tough guy.” Joel murmured as he, too, reached out for Arthur and pulled him into a hug. “We won’t have to keep this up for much longer. I promise… It’ll all be over soon.” 
Together, you lay down in the darkness of your tent and held each other closely. You kept a tight lid on your emotions as now wasn’t the time to break character, otherwise this ruse that you’ve worked hard to create would crumble in a matter of seconds. You weren’t mad with Arthur, nor was he really warning you to watch your tone about Dutch earlier. It’s just part of the plan to escape tomorrow. 
Tomorrow when Dutch isn’t around Beaver Hollow to stop the gang from leaving with his chest full of cash.  
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The chattering twitter of a bird reached your ears when you awoke at the crack of dawn. Nature singing its morning song was most soothing and you opened your eyes to find a beam of light shining down on your tent like it was a sign of good luck. You hoped it was a sign of good luck because you’re in dire need of it. As a matter of fact, the whole gang needs it because today is the day you finally make your escape and there’s only one shot at this. It has to be executed perfectly or else innocent people could die. 
Tilting your head and gazing across the beauty of Arthur’s face as he rested deeply, you managed to smile through the intolerable levels of hardship in which you’ve all endured. You wished that he looked peaceful, but even in repose, he looked plagued with a mass amount of concerns eating away at his brain during the night. The man was just so exhausted, mentally and physically, and it was starting to show too. His eyes were heavy and sunken, and his face marred with worrying 24/7. 
None of this is fair, you thought while gingerly tracing your fingers across his face. It wasn’t fair that he had the weight of the world on his shoulders all the damn time like this. Nor was it fair on Joel either, or anybody else for that matter. It wasn’t fair on you and the gang, and it certainly wasn’t fair at all for those who were killed along the way. There were so many, and all of them died in vain. 
“I love you, Arthur Morgan.” You leaned in close to say softly, paranoia keeping your voice barely above a whisper in case someone was eavesdropping outside of your tent. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened, hence your reasoning to be so secretive about how much you truly love each other. “I love you too, Joel Miller.” You added to that whilst palming your hand across his muscular arm draped over your stomach. 
It’s been a long, hellish journey so far together. This world and the life of an outlaw gang is cruel to those who least deserve it, but you won’t be suffering for much longer now. We’re almost there, you said inside and gave yourself the push you desperately needed to get moving. After planting a kiss on Arthur’s lips and turning to Joel to kiss him too, you climbed out of bed and continued with the ruse you’ve been playing for months. 
As much as it pained you to do so, you couldn’t let yourself get carried away when displaying your affection towards them. Someone could see and they’d quickly piece together that you’re lying. Dutch or Micah could see that Joel and Arthur are pretending to be loyal. It’s just part of the plan, and it’s been working flawlessly so far. Hopefully it continues to be flawless, you thought. 
Getting dressed and mentally preparing yourself for the enormous task ahead, you try to stay in the moment rather than thinking about the future. It would be silly to indulge in the hopeful thoughts of what happens after you escape because you need to escape first. Then, and only then, you can be free to think about what happens next. Besides, you don’t want to say it out loud, or even think it in your mind, but you already know where you’re going when all of this is finally over and done with. 
Once you were ready to leave, you grabbed your light summer jacket and draped it over your arm, but one step forward is all you took when suddenly, a hand was placed on your hip, urging you backwards. You closed your eyes to fight the oncoming tears and savoured the tender embrace you’ve missed so dearly. Arthur and Joel sat you down on the edge of the bed, cradling the back of your head gently as they kissed your neck. They moved upwards in a delicate manner, tickling your skin with their beards before placing their lips against the shell of your ear. 
“We love you too.” They breathed in unison, their voices heavy and laden with nothing but lust, endearment and devotion. The beautiful moment in which you shared together was short-lived as you slipped away from their grasps. You couldn’t let yourselves get carried away. It’s too dangerous and risky, today more than ever. 
Jerking the tent open and marching your way outside, you angrily put your jacket on whilst walking to the edge of camp. “Fucking useless idiots…. They will never understand,” you complained under your breath, and it’s just as well that you did because Dutch was also awake and he was watching you carefully. You could see him in the corner of your eyes as he stood by his tent, observing the camp like he does everyday now. It’s become a daily occurrence since he’s become an unrecognizable paranoid monster of a human being. 
With the timely fashion of Joel marching out of the tent as well, and Arthur right behind stopping him from chasing after you, it sold the act perfectly as Dutch grinned with delight. He believed the performance and puffed on his cigar like it was a victory to have them on his side. You wished it was possible to see the look on his face when he realizes that he’s lost everything, but you’ll be long gone by then. The man can’t be forgiven for the things he’s done. Too many people have lost their lives and many more have suffered for too long. 
Instead of standing around the edge of camp like you initially planned to do, you decided to walk further away and hopefully clear your mind a little before getting to work. Arthur however, also decided to play into his character a little more by yelling out. “I don’t have time for your games today, woman. If you leave and get lost, hurt or taken away somewhere, don’t count on me to come get ya… I’ve fucking had it with your childish behaviour.” 
Shaking your head at the man, you stayed within eye distance and sat down in the grass, your head plopped between your hands like a spoiled brat who was told ‘no’. You closed your eyes and smiled on the inside, thinking about what Joel and Arthur were truly saying in their minds right now. It’s probably something to do with worrying for your safety. They’re always worrying these days. 
You sat in silence for a short while until someone came along and disturbed your peace. You would have welcomed the company, but the man who approached is not who you were expecting. “Good morning, Y/N.” Dutch greeted you, and his smug tone of voice had your eyes rolling behind closed lids. 
“Morning, Dutch.” You opened your eyes and turned to look at him, your lips pressed together with detest. “What can I possibly help you with today?” You asked, to which the man chuckled deeply before crouching to the floor to be at your eye level. It was an intimidation tactic, and you certainly felt intimidated, but you didn’t show it. 
“You can help me understand what the big issue is.” He elaborated with a deep sigh of annoyance. “Why must you insist on giving Joel and Arthur so much hassle? They’re doing their best for all of us.” 
“Because I don’t want them to die like the others.” You retorted, then went on to list those people who died and really emphasized just how much he has lost because of his madness. “Jenny, The Callander Boys, Kieran Duffy, Bill Williamson, Molly O’Shea and Hosea Matthews. You remember their names, right Dutch?” 
“Of course I remember their names.” His jaw clenched in reply, but he missed your point entirely as he added to that. “They didn’t die for nothing. They died fighting for our freedom from the law. Can’t you see what we’re all trying to do here? It’s just one more job, then we are gone for good.” 
You closed your eyes briefly and shook your head over the mention of Hosea. He would’ve died for nothing — he would have died if you didn’t fake his death and get him away from Dutch. Nobody knows that he is alive. Not even Joel and Arthur, but it was all part of your own secret little plan all along. The old man will be coming here to Beaver Hollow when most of the men leave to rob that train, and he will be the one convincing the remaining members of the gang to escape, not yourself like Joel and Arthur believe. 
After a long pause for thought, you couldn’t hold your tongue anymore and expressed exactly how you feel towards Dutch. “Yeah well, there’s always one more job though. Always one more big score to take and we’ll be gone for good.” As those words sank in, you rolled your lips together and nodded. “That’s what my big issue is. You don’t know when to stop until it’s too late, and we’ve lost too many innocent people along the way, so forgive me for my lack of trust in you, but it’s really hard to trust someone that’s going to get the people I love killed.” 
Dutch also took a pause for thought. He took your words into account and processed them before replying. “Well, my choices haven’t exactly been the best these last couple of months, so that lack of trust is something I can understand.” He empathized with you, and you don’t know why he’s even trying to in the first place. Empathy isn’t his forte. It’s not like him to be understanding and reasonable like this at all, and that worries you more than his intimidation tactic of leaning in so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your face. 
You wanted to look to Joel and Arthur for some guidance through this unfamiliar territory, but you’re supposed to be angry with them. So rather than crumbling under Dutch’s pressure, you simply asked. “If you can understand my lack of trust, why don’t you try to get it back? You had my faith once before. You could have it again if you didn't do so many foolish things.”
“Foolish?” He raised his brow in a way that offers you a chance to take back what you said, but you didn’t. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline you got when finally speaking a piece of your mind to Dutch, but you nodded to him and confirmed that you meant it. And he didn’t like that at all, not in the slightest. There was a difference in his demeanour that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The difference was subtle and barely noticeable to the eyes, but you felt the shift in his energy. 
You were instantly put on high alert and felt queasy. It was alarming to see such a sudden difference in the man. You watched the wickedness take over his eyes when he grinned, and it was an ominous looking grin. The kind that displays a glimpse of his soul within, which was dark and sinister. Dutch didn’t look at you. He looked through you with a cold, empty stare and his unbroken gaze sent a chilling shiver down your spine. 
“You seem to have misunderstood, Y/N.” He lowered his voice to a dangerously low octave. His tone was calm, but make no mistake, he was revealing his true colors. They were malevolent and hostile. “ I do not care for your faith in me. I care for your blind obedience… Do you understand that?” 
By now, you were sure that Joel and Arthur were watching this interaction very carefully, and it was reassuring to know that they’re quick with drawing a gun from their hips. Quicker than you’ve ever seen before, and should Dutch do something reckless such as raising his hands to you, it would be the last thing he ever did. The man would be dead before he’d even think about drawing his weapon.  
However, back-chatting him right now and endangering the lives of other people in camp was not a risk you were willing to take. He wanted your compliance, so you gave it to him. “Yes, Dutch.” You nodded. “I understand that loud and clear.” 
“Good.” He rose to his feet quickly, the rapidness in his movement startling you. “Oh, don’t be afraid. I wouldn’t do something so… foolish to you now, would I?” The man mocked you, and it stung. He patronized you for flinching, and it hurt. He teased you and ridiculed you for being frightened with one simple word, and it boiled the blood in your veins to a level in which you’ve never felt before. 
Dutch Van Der Linde is a monstrous person. He, who caused the death of Jenny, The Callander Boys, Kieran Duffy, Bill Williamson, Molly O’Shea and countless more innocent people in his lifetime, cannot be forgiven. He, who left Joel and Arthur behind for dead, cannot be trusted. He, who uses fear and intimidation to bend people to his every beck and call, is a cowardly man. You harboured nothing but hatred for him, and it physically pained you to give a satisfactory answer. 
“No.” You shook your head and fed his sick, evil, twisted ego. “No, you wouldn’t do something so foolish to me.” 
“That’s better, Y/N.” He concluded before walking away with a boastful gait, as if he were so proud of himself to make you fall in line like the rest who ever dared to question him. You looked at Joel and Arthur briefly, and merely because of the fact Micah was watching, you made a point to scoff and look away, acting like you were offended that they didn’t step in to help just now. 
You couldn’t communicate that you were fine because Micah would see that you’re trying to reassure them. He is as extremely paranoid as Dutch was and you have to be careful around those sorts of people. You opted to look beyond the camp and tried to enjoy the comforting scenery of nature instead. Joel and Arthur could visibly see that you were okay and that’s all they needed to be reassured. 
As the morning breezed over and the gang geared up to leave, you stayed around the edge of camp and kept a lookout for Hosea. He said he wouldn’t get too close, and you trust that he’s capable of keeping himself hidden amongst the trees in the wooded area of Roanoke Ridge. Freedom was nearing and you could almost taste it when Dutch finally left Beaver Hollow. He took ten people with him, including Joel, Arthur and John, and left ten people behind – all of whom you could trust. 
Just for safety measures and extra precaution, you waited twenty minutes for the ‘all clear’ signal from Hosea and rose to your feet with a smile on your face. It felt so victorious and overwhelming to actually express your joy. It was nice to let that mask slip away and stop acting like you’re so damn angry all the time. You turned to the camp and looked across the many miserable faces that people wore, feeling giddy and excited to reveal everything you’ve worked so hard for. 
“Everyone! Gather round everyone… Gather round.” You called out happily, capturing their undivided attention. “I have good news to tell you and it’s really important that you all listen very carefully.” 
“Oh God.” Mary-Beth and Karen gasped simultaneously, and Abigail finished off voicing their immediate concerns. “Oh no… Please tell me you're not pregnant. You can’t be pregnant at a time like this, Y/N.” 
“What—no, no. Jesus, no. I’m not pregnant, ladies. Settle down.” You barked out a laugh, and felt the tension leaving your shoulders as they all sighed with relief. Hell, even Miss Grimshaw was relieved to hear that, and she’s the one who asked Joel and Arthur to knock you up. Albeit, that was months ago when she was full of booze, but it was nice to see the gang smiling again, and they felt a shimmer of happiness because Dutch wasn’t around to ruin everything like he always does. 
You tried to explain what you so eagerly wanted to tell them, but the words never passed your lips as they all gasped at the man approaching the camp behind you. That man was Hosea, and everyone ran towards him in a flurry of panic. There was complete pandemonium as he was surrounded by the men and women remaining in camp. Abigail and Jack hugged him tightly, then Susan, Tilly, Karen and Mary-Beth moved in afterwards to convey just how much they missed him. Charles, Mr. Pearson, Reverend Swanson and Uncle also shook the man’s hand and held him close. 
It took a whole fifteen minutes just to calm everybody down before you could even begin to explain what happened. Time was ticking fast and you didn’t have very long to retrieve their belongings, steal the savings chest from the cave and get gone before Dutch came back. You and Hosea had already amassed a large sum of cash by yourselves anyway, and so has Joel and Arthur too, but the savings chest would ensure everyone had a head-start in their new lives. 
Once you gave everyone a quick rundown of the plan and why you both went through all the trouble to help them escape, nobody refused to leave or opposed the idea of getting out while they still had the chance. This was their only chance and they snatched it up without hesitation. You were more than relieved to hear their reactions. Words simply couldn’t portray the unfathomable level of joy you felt, and without wasting anymore time, you all got the work right away, which didn’t take very long in the end as most were willing to leave everything behind and start fresh. 
When everyone was on their horse and ready to leave, the next order of business was heading towards the Grizzlies East region of Ambarino. There’s a hideout called The Loft, and you are to wait there for Joel and Arthur’s return with John, Lenny, Sean and Sadie – the last members of the gang needing to be saved, once and for all. 
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Everything went wrong. The plan went south… In the space of hours, the plan went horribly wrong. 
This morning when Joel and Arthur watched Dutch get in your face, their hands balled up into fists at their side so tight that their knuckles turned white. The urge to break character was strong. They were ready to jeopardize everything they’ve been working towards and kill anyone who tried to hurt you or the gang. But they couldn’t. No matter how hard it was for them, they couldn’t break character. 
It was a bad day for Joel and Arthur right from the moment they opened their eyes and couldn’t hold you like they really wanted to. It hurt and cut them deeper than any knife could when they shared a kiss with you for no longer than two seconds. They wanted to tear your clothes off and make love to you, but they couldn’t. They haven’t been able to for weeks. But when they left camp and couldn’t say goodbye how they really wanted to either, they knew that you’d be out of there the second that they left. 
That train robbery is where everything went wrong. They made it to Saint Denis without a problem and boarded the train without any further issues as well, but later down the tracks when they made their intent known to the passengers on board, that’s where it started going downhill rapidly. There were many army guards to kill and twice as many more chasing them on horseback. 
The train was a slaughtering machine on wheels since the gang were aboard. They killed each and every one of those men hunting them down via horseback. Except there was one more hiding in the treeline who shot John in the shoulder and caused him to fall off the back of the train cart. He would be dead or captured, but just in case there was a chance that he could be saved, Dutch, Micah, Cleet, Joe and Javier went back for him while the rest stayed on the train to fight yet another patrol of army men. 
Determinedly, the army didn’t give up and continued pursuing the gang. There were too many to fight all at once. The train was never supposed to be this heavily guarded, therefore Arthur was forced to get behind the maxim gun. He mowed them all down until the coast was finally clear, then they moved up the train and blew a hole in the armed carriage before grabbing everything they could. It was packed full with sacks of army payroll, and they took it all.  
At the end of the line, everyone quickly hopped off the train before it rode over Bacchus Bridge. The very same bridge that Joel, Arthur and John blew up to smithereens yesterday. It was a spectacular show watching the train fall down the gap in the tracks and smash into the canyon below. The job was done and they did it. Joel and Arthur did it. They got the money and had the opportunity right there and then to take Sadie, Sean and Lenny out of there for good, but it would mean leaving John behind. They couldn’t do it–wouldn’t do it. 
Rather than snatching up the opportunity to escape with enough money to supplement the gang's new life, Arthur and Joel made their way back to Beaver Hollow instead. It wasn’t supposed to go down this way. John wasn’t supposed to get shot and fall off the back of the train, but they couldn’t control the situation no matter how much they tried to. 
However, it only got worse from that point onwards as they approached the path leading into camp and found Charles waiting for them. He wasn’t supposed to be there either. He should’ve been at The Loft with you and the rest of the gang, but he stayed behind to alert Joel and Arthur of Abigail's predicament. She was separated from the gang when they left Beaver Hollow and taken away by Agent Milton to be put on a boat and tried for murder. 
Arthur had to save her. He couldn’t leave the woman behind and make her child an orphan. So he and five people that he could trust with his life stormed their way through Van Horn, killing the Pinkertons stationed there, including Agent Milton. Rescuing Abigail wasn’t an issue. The issue was making the decision to go back for John, or go to The Loft and be reunited with you. 
Even if Marston wasn’t alive, they had to be absolutely sure before they left without him. But this time, Arthur and Joel weren’t taking anyone else with them. They strictly ordered the others to take Abigail and go to The Loft to wait for their return. They would go back to Beaver Hollow and finish this thing once and for all. Besides, they wanted to have a little chat with Dutch anyhow, and let him know who the real rat in the gang was. That person was Micah Bell. He was selling out the gang at every chance he could get, and maybe, just maybe that information would buy their freedom. It could give them a chance to get out of there alive. Well, that’s what they hoped for. 
Arthur was naïve enough to think Dutch would believe him over the rat, but he was sorely mistaken. The confrontation finally came to a head and Joel drew his weapon first, pointing it directly at Micah. Everyone else drew their guns too. There was a standoff between two people against five, and all of them were ready to shoot each other, but when John suddenly emerged from the trees, yelling at Dutch for leaving him behind, it alerted another squad of Pinkertons roaming around Roanoke Ridge. They had no choice but to fight the wave of detective agents closing in. 
Of course, Dutch being Dutch, it came as no surprise that he left John behind for dead and it came as no further surprise when he ran away with Micah, Cleet, Joe and Javier, leaving Arthur, Joel and John to defend themselves at Beaver Hollow. The camp was completely overrun and they were surrounded by Pinkertons. It was so dark and misty in those woods that they could barely see two feet in front of them. So trekking through the cave was the only way out. 
That cave had always spooked Joel and Arthur. It was a torture chamber for the Murfree Brood Gang when they used to live there, but today, they were chased through the tunnels by agents instead. Once they eventually found their way out on the other side, they whistled for their horses and only had a moment to catch their breaths before taking off again in a hurry. The chase continued and they were hunted down by Dutch and the Pinkertons at the same time. 
Having been chased up the mountains, the fight was inescapable. They couldn’t out run them any further and decided to stand their ground. Maybe it was meant to be or maybe it was just a long list of things going wrong today, but Joel, Arthur and John couldn’t avoid one more battle. Arthur drew his gun and shot first, dropping one of the agents firing from the treeline in the distance. They were everywhere. 
Bullets came from all directions and whizzed past their bodies. It was miraculous that neither of them got shot. John had already taken a bullet today. He couldn't take another. Eventually, all the agents were killed and the coast was clear to keep going forward, but when Micah came out of nowhere and tackled Arthur to the ground, they fought each other viciously. He managed to land a few punches before Joel raised his gun to kill him, but then Dutch called out and put a stop to that. 
“Let them handle this like men.” He said at the time, and lowered his weapon to show that he wouldn’t interfere with the brawl. John and Joel kept an eye on the man, their fingers steady on the trigger of their weapons in case he tried anything while Micah and Arthur continued to beat each other up. It was a fight to death, and it was brutal to watch unfold. They’ve seen Arthur fight many times in the past, but not like that before. He managed to get the upper hand on Micah, and he didn’t stop striking him with his bare fists until he was dead. 
When Dutch saw a copious amount of blood spilling from Micah, he didn’t utter a single word and ultimately accepted his defeat. It was over. He lost everything and it was finally over. There was nothing left for him and he walked away, completely and utterly broken. John stood back with a sickened stomach as Joel pulled Arthur off Micah’s lifeless body. And finally from there, all three of them walked away too, leaving a trail of death behind in their wake. 
As unfortunate as it was, their horses were killed during the chase up the mountains and they had to walk the rest of the way. It would be a treacherous hike through the Grizzlies East region of Ambarino, locating you and the rest of the gang hiding out in The Loft, but it was a journey they needed most. The time they spent together was serene, but freedom didn’t feel real to them and it took a while to actually believe it. There were a few moments today where they didn’t think they’d make it out alive. 
But they did make it out alive, and here they are now. 
Joel and Arthur were walking along a trail when the silence was broken, and it was from John speaking about taking Abigail and Jack far away from here to settle down someplace that he can call home. Suppose that’s when it finally settled in that he was free from Dutch, and the first thing he thought about was his family. It was a heart-warming thing to hear, but Arthur made him promise to never look back once he does leave to find his forever home someplace far away from here. 
Arthur made John promise to never return to the old ways of being an outlaw as it would bring nothing but harm to him and those he loves. He just wanted the man to make use of this fresh start in life and live out the rest of his days in peace. He deserves it. They all do. And that’s something Arthur can’t wait to give each of the remaining members of the Van Der Linde Gang – a new life filled with peace and security. 
When climbing over the peak of a hill and The Loft finally came into view, they could see a couple people standing in the watchtower above the lodge. The place was divine and beautiful, purposefully located within the mountains to provide a set of eyes in all directions. Arthur smiles upon remembering the first time he brought you here, and it really didn’t come as any surprise that you suggested this place as the meet-up point. 
Perhaps if this was a perfect world, he’d live out the rest of days here in Ambarino with you and Joel, but that could never happen because someone, from somewhere, will eventually come for that bounty on his head. Further, Arthur thought to himself, someplace further away from all this. As they neared the lodge and watched the gang in the watchtower scrambling around anxiously, they saw the door down below open up and two people barrelling outside. 
Those two people were you and Abigail. You both ran along the trail so fast that Joel, Arthur and John stopped walking to brace for the impact. You came hurtling towards them and they held their arms open as you crashed into their chests, the sight making them smile and laugh as they held you tightly. “We’re alright, sweetheart.” Arthur murmured, his lips pressed against your forehead. “We did it… We survived.” 
You grabbed them both as hard as you could and sniffled through an apology, “I’m sorry. We tried to save Abigail but…There were too many and I’m so sorry I put that on your shoulders.”   
“S’okay, darlin’.” Joel shushed you gently when burying his face into your neck. You could feel the man’s tears against your skin and it made you cry with him. It was an equal mixture of happy and sad tears. You were so profoundly happy to see that they’re alive, but you’re still grieving over everything that’s happened in the last few hours. God only knows what they’ve been through together, but you could see the blood splatter on Arthur’s clothes, and his knuckles were black and blue. 
You could also see that John was shot in the shoulder, and he winced plentifully when sharing a few loving words between fervent kisses with Abigail. They broke off and looked at Joel and Arthur, nodding appreciatively. “Thank you.” Whispered Abigail as she took them into her embrace. “I could never thank you enough for bringing him back to me… And you,” she pulled back to look at you now, crying. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You did everything you possibly could to save me, but Jack was your first responsibility first.”  
“Thank you for taking care of him, Y/N.” John added, his tone deeply grateful for everything you’ve done to help his child and the gang. You felt a little more at ease upon hearing their gratitude and wiped your teary eyes. It was rewarding to know that you did something right at least. There was so much that went wrong today, and you fought for a way to save Abigail, but Jack and the rest of the gang would have been put in danger. You had no choice. They had to be taken care of first, and Charles offered to stay behind to save her instead. 
“I’m glad we’re all together now.” You breathed with a ghost of a smile on your lips, then took Joel and Arthur hands in your grasp before leading them both toward The Loft. “Come with me and Abigail. There’s someone very important here to see you three.” 
“Who?” Joel, Arthur and John asked in unison, the sound of their curiosity making you laugh softly. It was so sweet and endearing to hear them in suspense about whom you're referring to. Their minds were boggled, and your heart was leaping out of your chest when you reached the door to the lodge because the man who so desperately wanted to see them would be waiting inside. You and Abigail entered first, then stepped aside to make room. 
There were thirteen people inside the lodge all together and it was cramped. Most were up-top in the watchtower, but Hosea sat on the bed in the corner, sipping on a hot tea. “Howdy fellers.” He smiled as he rose to his feet. “Long time no see, eh?” 
It was uncertain how they would react, but when John rushed forward and stumbled straight into Hosea’s chest, it made you gasp with joy. And when Joel moved across the floor, also taking the man into a tight hug, it made you grin with delight, but when Arthur stood in the doorway, his face as white as a ghost, you held your breath. He didn’t move an inch because he feared that what he was seeing wasn't real. He couldn’t feel his heart beating and didn’t blink at all, only stared at the man he believed to be dead for weeks. 
“Is that any way to greet me?” Hosea made a joke and chuckled, but his laughter quickly faded once he saw the tears welling up in the corners of Arthur’s eyes. It was a heart-rending and tragic sight to witness. The old man approached him carefully and reached out to hold his shoulder. “Take it easy, my son. It’s ok, just take it easy.” He whispered in a soothing tone of voice, hoping to ease Arthur’s distress. 
“W-wha… How…” Arthur tried to speak, but couldn’t properly form the words. It was astonishing and miraculous, unbelievable. But once he felt Hosea’s hand holding his shoulder, his knees buckled beneath him and he fell into the man's arms, heaving a heavy breath of relief. 
For a moment there, Arthur truly believed that he had died and gone to heaven. It would explain why he’s able to see the old man again, but with the sudden realization that he wasn’t dead, and he was in fact, very much alive, the comfort and reassurance flooded his veins rapidly. He just couldn’t express how insanely happy he felt to see Hosea again and simply held him instead. 
Crying is not something you see Arthur do very often. He’s shed a few tears here and there in the past, but for the most part, he’s generally quite emotionally guarded. Right now though, he let the tears fall freely from his eyes and sobbed in Hosea’s arms, releasing all of the emotions he’s kept bottled up inside for weeks and months. The sight was incredibly upsetting to witness and you moved towards Joel to bury your face into his chest, hiding your own tears. You’ve never heard such agonized cries before and it was painful to listen to. 
In spite of how distressing it was, they needed this moment together. Arthur needed to hold the man who raised him since the age of fourteen. He needed to be given that very specific kind of consolation that only a father figure like Hosea could offer. They spent hours in close proximity to each other. You couldn’t pry them apart even if you wanted to. They were inseparable. 
Hosea explained everything that had happened and why he needed to fake his own death while you stayed outside the lodge and helped Susan put together a small encampment. The gang needed somewhere to sleep for the night, possibly several nights, and you wanted to keep yourself busy anyhow. It was a great distraction from this whole mess with Dutch which helped to ease your mind. 
Later, when the dust eventually settled and everyone felt a sense of normality again, you sat around a small fire with the gang and enjoyed every passing moment in their company. Jack was resting on your lap while Abigail was tending to John's wounds in the lodge with the help of Susan and Reverend Swanson. They know a thing or two about stitching up a bullet hole in the shoulder, and he should be back on his feet in a couple of days once the pain eases off. 
Joel leaned into your side and whispered in your ear. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you look with a child in your arms, darlin?” 
“No actually. You haven’t.” You felt your cheeks burning and smiled a flattered kind of smile under his playful gaze. It felt so good to be yourselves again. “Don’t be getting any bright ideas, Joel.” You returned the teasing banter, to which Arthur joined in now and asked. “Why not, sweetheart? Haven’t ya thought about it before?”
“Oh no… Not this again.” You shook your head and laughed at them both. 
“C’mon gorgeous… Enlighten us with how you feel about having our babies.” Arthur chuckled deeply, his tone seductive and fun-loving. He isn’t being serious about having kids. Surely he isn’t. But you have to admit that the topic of conversation would be a whole lot better than talking about all the shit you’ve just been through today. You zoned out for a moment and thought about having kids with Joel and Arthur at some point. The answer to that question wasn’t an immediate no. You could see yourself round and plump with their babies, but not now and not anytime soon. 
“A penny for your thoughts?” Joel looked at you with a smirking smile, his beautiful hazel-coloured eyes exhibiting a hint of lust. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it, but it’s just something me and Arthur think about from time to time.” 
“Really? You and Arthur think about that?” You asked, shocked to hear that they are, in fact, serious about having kids. You didn’t think they’d want to, especially not after everything that Arthur went through when he lost his son, Isaac. It hurt you so much just hearing about what happened to the young boy, and you can only begin to imagine how he felt during that time of his life. He only ever talked about Isaac and his mother Eliza once, and once was more than enough, but… Maybe someday when he's ready, he could open up a little more and allow himself to heal. 
You didn’t know at which point you started crying, but Joel and Arthur instantly put themselves to blame and apologized for bringing up the subject about having kids again. They mentioned it months ago when Susan asked them for a grandbaby, and the way you feel now was the exact same way you felt back then: deeply flattered, admired and honoured. 
“No, it’s okay.” You wiped your eyes and refused their apologies. “You haven’t upset me, I promise. It’s just that I um… Ok, I am a little upset, but it’s not for the reasons that you think.” 
“You wanna talk about it?” Joel offered an outlet; offered a way for you to attain some release by talking out your feelings, but you politely declined and shook your head. “No, not yet, handsome… But I think that, for now I’d just like to hear what you and Arthur have been thinking about from time to time.” You laughed sweetly, your eyes glossed over with a pretty tint of love and affection for them both. 
They blushed a little and explained in their own ways why they wanted to have your children at some point in the future. It’s simply because they love you so much and they can see themselves living a long life with you as their lady. ‘Our one and only gal’, they often say, bringing you nothing but the best of compliments. Even now as they lean in close to whisper those words in your ear, it consumes your whole entire being with love. 
After exhausting the idea of having kids with them, you concluded. “I suppose that when we’re ready, I’ll remove this implant in my arm.” 
“I never quite understood how that thing worked.” Arthur looked down at your arm, his finger lightly gliding across the little flexible plastic rod beneath your skin. “How does that stop you from getting pregnant?” 
“It releases a hormone in my bloodstream.” You shrugged. Laughing with the vulgar thoughts popping into your mind, you covered Jack’s ears and whispered to Arthur. “Besides, don’t you think it’s nice to pump me full of cum without consequence, sexy?” 
“Oh.” He looked away from you, blushing a lot more this time. The man’s skin was flushed with a rosy red colour as he thought about what you said and how it made him feel.  “Yeah. I do think that’s really nice, sweetheart. And it’s also something that we’ve not had the chance to do in a little while now either.” He looked back into your eyes and smirked, his gaze dropping to your lips briefly. “Why don’t you and Joel go wait for me in the tent? I’ll take Jack back to his momma and come see you both after.” 
“Yes sir.” You winked with the authoritative term, knowing exactly how that makes Arthur feel. Carefully handing Jack over and kissing him on the head, you whispered goodnight to him and took Joel’s hand before heading towards your tent. It wasn’t placed too far away from the rest, nor was it too close either, but one thing you’re certain about is that you’ll have to be quiet. 
And that would be difficult to do, just like it always is when Joel and Arthur make love to you. 
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“Is there anything else you’d like to come clean about, sweetheart?” Arthur turned to you and asked, as if he were annoyed, but his facial expression said otherwise. He smiled at you with a twinkle in his eyes and shook his head, shocked and disbelieved. You not only kept a secret about Hosea from him and Joel, but you also kept another secret from them too; a secret that brings you right back to the oak tree on the hill. 
“No, that’s everything. I promise.” You giggled in reply, the sound so sweet to his ears that it made him laugh with you. “I didn’t like lying to you both about these things, but I had to because you already had so much going. Besides, it all worked out in the end, right?” 
They both sighed. “Yeah,” and Joel added to that. “I suppose you did the right thing by keeping all that mess with Francis from us. We’d just worry about yer and make it worse.” 
“M-hm.” You hummed in agreement with that. They certainly would have worried for your safety all those months ago when you freed Mr Sinclair from rotting away in that jail cell. The reason Arthur never got a written response from the man is because the law picked up the letter from the post office. Francis addressed the letter with Arthur’s full name instead of his cover name, Tacitus Kilgore, and he, of course, was pulled in for questioning. The law, however, didn’t release him right away and decided to keep the man in lock up. 
Six months ago exactly, when you sat around a small fire with Hosea outside of Shady Belle, he brought good news about Francis. The old man had found where the law was keeping him detained and had already devised a crafty little plan on how to break him out too. You had a lot of fun that day. It felt like a breeze to work alongside Hosea and the act of breaking someone out of jail wasn’t all that hard in the end. Perhaps it’s because of good planning, or maybe it’s because Hosea is the wittiest con-man there is, and he can bluff his way through just about anything. 
You were admired by the man's work and it was a pleasure to work with him each and every time after that point. Francis was freed from his jail cell and once you made it someplace safe, he finally showed you the way back home through the mirror. That was months ago, but now several weeks have passed since escaping Dutch and it’s time for you to go home now. The gang was taken care of and their safety was ensured. Joel, Arthur, Hosea and yourself made sure of it. 
John took his family out west and bought his very own plot of land, where he will build his own ranch with the help of Charles, Hosea and Uncle to live out the rest of his days. Sadie lives close by so that she can visit regularly too. Mr Pearson and Miss Grimshaw are currently working in Rhodes. They bought their own stores there and will live a happy life in proximity to each other. Karen and Sean left the country via boat. They’re going to Ireland and maybe even travel across Europe. Lenny is heading home to find his mother and be reunited with her. Mary-Beth resides in Valentine where she’s taken up the hobby of writing romantic novels. Swanson moved to New York to become a preacher and Tilly moved to Saint Denis. 
Everyone has been taken care of. Arthur wouldn’t be leaving this world behind if they weren’t. You remember asking him a long time ago to come with you and Joel, but he declined the offer to stay and protect his family instead. You understood his decision back then, but didn’t truly see just how devoted he was to ensuring their safety until you became a part of the gang as well. It made a lot of sense once you became a part of the family, and you, too, became determined to secure a better, safer, future for them. 
However, the time has come now for you to go home and start a new chapter in life. It’s for the best since Arthur still has a large bounty on his head. He doesn’t want to flee to another country across the seas, but with some persuasion from Hosea, he agreed to go with you and Joel instead. It’s going to be another tough adjustment for each of you to get used to. A whole year has passed since you’ve seen your home, and Arthur isn’t familiar with the future of course. There’s a lot that you’ll need to go when you get back, but for now, you’re taking it one step at a time. 
“Are we ready?” You ask them both excitedly. “It’s going to be hard for the first couple of days, maybe even weeks, but I can’t wait to go home with the two men I love most.” 
“Who are these two men you speak of?” Joel teased with a smirk on his lips. “Surely it can't be a pair of fools like us.” He said, and his remark made you slap his chest playfully as Arthur chuckled beside him. After a moment, Joel took your hand and Arthur’s hand before leading you both towards the tree. “Yes, darlin’. We’re ready to go home with the woman we love most.” 
You smiled and leaned in to plant a kiss on his lips, before turning to Arthur and kissing his lips too. The adventure you all went through was frightening and difficult, but you managed to find love along the way from two beautiful men. You got the best of both worlds when those two worlds collided. 
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defleppardfan1 · 5 months
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When Love and Hate Collide: Masterlist
Joe Elliott x Reader
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Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Middle Chapter (NSFW), Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Epilogue
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oddinary4bts · 3 days
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Chasing Cars | teaser (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: alcohol consumption, curses
☆word count: 1.1k
☆a/n: teaser time babyyyy!! I hope you guys love it :') thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
The hour is late. Jungkook is tipsy, far more than he thought he’d get tonight, but then again, Taehyung is not in a better state, and Sera, Jimin’s girlfriend, had to force him to go home before they got too drunk.
They’re all supposed to help Taehyung’s little sister move in tomorrow, Jungkook included.
“Man,” Taehyung lets out, and Jungkook looks away from the game of Smash they’re playing - that he’s majestically losing - to focus on Taehyung.
“What?” he lets out.
“Can’t believe Y/n will be here tomorrow,” Taehyung answers.
“Can’t believe you’re forcing me to live with a girl.”
Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t worry, Y/n is chill.”
Jungkook doesn’t doubt she is, considering how well he gets along with Taehyung, and Taehyung’s made it seem that he gets along well with his sister. He imagines Y/n’s just going to be a mini Taehyung, which frankly could be fun to have around.
But he doesn’t know anything about her other than the fact that she is Taehyung’s little sister.
“You know,” Taehyung adds as the game finishes. “I meant to tell you something.”
Jungkook cocks his pierced eyebrow in question. “Yeah?”
“Just wanted to say that if you touch my sister, you’re fucking dead.”
Jungkook bursts out laughing, shaking his head, but Taehyung remains entirely serious. Like he meant what he just said - could he?
“You’re joking right?” Jungkook asks as his laughter fades away.
“No, I’m dead ass,” Taehyung insists. “You breathe in her direction, and you’re dead.”
“Damn.” Jungkook widens his gaze, and then picks up the beer he’s been slowly drinking since Jimin left. “Understood.”
Hell, Jungkook knows that he sleeps around. Taehyung does the same - he can’t help but understand Taehyung when he says to stay away from his sister. And he thinks it’ll be easy. Y/n’s probably just going to be a clueless baby college kid, and though Jungkook doesn’t mind going for younger, he’ll have plenty of new faces to explore once Frosh week starts next week anyways.
So he promises Taehyung he has nothing to worry about, and they play a couple more games before they head to bed.
Jungkook wakes up early the next morning, the sun shining right in his face the most efficient alarm he’s ever used before. He wants to go to the gym before helping Taehyung’s sister, and though he hates being awake so early, he immediately forces himself to get up lest he falls back asleep.
His workout goes well, and he’s pleasantly sore when he heads back home. He’s lucky - he manages to park not too far from the apartment. He’s walking home, gym bag in one hand and his phone in the other, when Taehyung texts him to ask where he is.
Jungkook types ‘Fuck off’, pressing send as his attention is solely on his phone.
Until said phone flies out of his hand as he collides with a girl he didn’t notice, and Jungkook watches in horror as the device falls in a flower bed.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you say, and you immediately dive into the flower bed, retrieving Jungkook’s phone. 
You hand it to him, and Jungkook just stares at you, mouth agape. He’s aware he’s staring and that he probably looks stupid, but he’s dumbfounded.
You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot.
“Don’t worry about it,” he answers quickly when you cock an eyebrow, your cheeks slowly turning red. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“At least it didn’t break,” you say, and you flash him a quick smile.
It does things to his heart that Jungkook barely comprehends - it’s like his heart is going miles a minute, yet it’s soothing, warm, much like the pavement feels in the summer when the sun has just dipped below the horizon.
“Right, yeah,” Jungkook answers, and his cheeks burn.
His cheeks fucking burn, and he wishes he could just disappear, dive below the ground until you can’t see him anymore. You just keep on smiling, eyes never disconnecting from his, and he wonders if you, too, feel like he does.
Shit, he thinks he might even hear bells in the distance.
You glance away, and it’s like he’s falling forward while not moving at all, and all he can do is pathetically clear his throat, as if that’s going to offer any help.
“I see you’ve met Y/n!” Taehyung yells from behind you, and Jungkook freezes.
Jungkook freezes, and then something burns in his lungs, like he’s under the surface struggling for futile oxygen he knows he won’t find.
You are… Taehyung’s sister.
You’re Y/n.
His best friend’s little sister.
The one thing Jungkook can’t have.
It makes him feel cold, his heart suddenly dropping in the Arctic sea amongst the icebergs. 
“We literally ran into each other,” you say, looking back towards your brother.
And Jungkook sees it - your hair is the same shade as Taehyung’s, your face has the same shape. The smile though - your smile is different from Taehyung’s, and maybe that’s why he was fooled.
Fooled for a few seconds which felt like an eternity.
You walk away then, heading to the open back door of a car. You grab a box, and Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket, eyeing a bag on the backseat.
“Do you want me to bring this in?” he asks.
Only because he wants you to look at him again. His heart flutters in his chest when you do, and he forces it down with a swallow as you nod once.
“Yes, please!”
Jungkook nods too, and he grabs the bag before following you in. His right foot lands on the first step leading to the apartment when Taehyung stops him with a hand on his arm.
Jungkook frowns slightly, meeting his best friend’s gaze.
“I’m serious, JK,” Taehyung says through gritted teeth. “You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”
And Jungkook knows right then and there that he’s fucked. Entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.
Because he already wants you, and he hasn’t even talked to you for more than twenty seconds.
“Don’t worry,” he reassures Taehyung, and he hopes Taehyung can’t hear how fake he sounds.
How is he supposed to resist indulging in you when he already knows you’re all he’s ever wanted? 
He really is entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.
☆☆☆☆☆
Chapter one coming on May 10th, 2024!
What did we think? Are we excited to read?? Let me know here!
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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natashasfilms · 2 months
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Chapter Ten - The Fisher King: Part 1
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Summary: FBI agent Leila faces a profound life change after giving birth to a baby girl, supported by her loving husband. Despite the challenges of motherhood, Leila returns to her role as a dedicated agent a few months later, ready to confront gruesome and haunting cases with the BAU team.
Pairing: BAU!Fem!OC x Male!OC , EVENTUAL Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Fem!OC (Like much later)
Warnings: This story contains mature themes such as sexual content, strong language, violence, mentions of alcohol and drugs, blood, gore, and death. All the usual Criminal Minds stuff. And there is NO CHEATING.
Note 1: I imagine Leila Kade as South Asian but I have decided to let you, the reader, imagine her appearance, hence the reason why I have not given her a face claim. However, her race does not affect the story, whatsoever. You, as the reader, are free to imagine her however you want. If you don't see her as South Asian, then that's fine. It won't affect the storyline. I also imagine the OC!Male as South Asian, but again, it won't affect the storyline.
Note 2: The team will consist of the main cast (Emily, Derek, JJ, Spencer, Penelope, Aaron, and Rossi) but will also include Elle Greenaway and Jason Gideon because they were some of my favorite characters and I wanted to include them with the rest of the team. Basically, Elle and Gideon never leave when Emily and Rossi join.
Note 3: There will be multiple time skips throughout this series. For example, the first chapter will begin on the first season and episode of the show but then there will be a time skip to later episodes (because there are obviously way too many episodes to write this series on and I wanted to include specific episodes that would help the plot of this story). This means that this series will be a slow burn romance but I believe it to be better this way. This will also stray from the actual show a lot, so don't expect it to follow the plot precisely.
Series Masterlist
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Season 1, Episode 22
Leila's excitement peaked upon learning that she would finally enjoy a long and refreshing break from work. Aaron's decision to grant the entire team two weeks off filled her with anticipation. All she could think about was being able to devote her undivided attention to her family without the burden of a new case weighing on her mind.
As she ensured she had everything she needed from her office packed into her bag, she let out a sigh of relief. Rushing out of her office, she almost accidentally collided with Aaron, who had also just emerged from his own office.
"Hey, ready to leave?" Aaron's bright smile greeted her. It was the happiest Leila had seen him at work, and she couldn't help but feel that this break was the best thing to happen to them in a long time.
"Two weeks with no contact from this place? It's like a dream come true," Leila said giddily as they descended the steps. "And now it sounds like I hate my job."
Aaron chuckled, reaching the last step. "I don't blame you. It's nice to finally have some time away from here." As they approached their cubicles, they noticed Elle and Derek. "Hey, don't knock family. I'm going to get nothing but for the next 336 hours," Aaron remarked.
Derek hummed with a smile on his face. "Good for you."
"Haley's got a list of chores a mile long and I can't wait," Aaron exclaimed excitedly. "The biggest decision I gotta make is what I'm gonna do first."
"I bet she has a thought or two about that as well," Elle responded, sharing a grin of her own.
"Bring it on," Aaron said loudly, walking away from them.
"Bye guys, have fun!" Leila waved goodbye, rushing out the doors.
"Thank you, Grace. Please enjoy the next two weeks off," Leila expressed her gratitude, cradling Jasmine as the little baby babbled happily. "You're the best."
Grace returned her appreciation with a warm smile, gently patting Jasmine's head before bidding them farewell. "You three enjoy your two weeks off. You guys really deserve it."
"You're the sweetest, drive safe!" Leila called out as she watched Grace leave the house. She then looked down at Jasmine, who was still babbling away. "Let's wait for daddy to come home from work, and then we can have lots of fun, okay sweetie?"
A few moments later, Leila heard the garage door open, indicating Zaid was home. As soon as he walked in, Leila rushed over to him, still holding Jasmine. "There's my two gorgeous girls, come here," he greeted warmly, wrapping his arms around Leila, being careful of Jasmine in her arms. "Both mommy and daddy have two weeks off from work, so we're going to make the most out of it, alright Jas?"
When Leila had told Zaid that she was getting two weeks off from the BAU, he didn't hesitate to take some time off from his job as well, wanting to spend as much time with his family as possible. "Mhm, and I know a few ways we can spend it," Leila grinned, giving him a quick peck on the lips. Zaid winked before gently taking Jasmine from her arms, twirling her around as Jasmine giggled joyfully.
After dinner and some playtime with Jasmine and her favorite toys, Leila and Zaid finally settled their baby down for the night. Ensuring she was comfortable, they quietly exited her room. As they left, Zaid playfully grabbed Leila's waist, causing her to squeal a bit too loudly. He quickly covered her mouth with his hand. "Shh, you're going to wake her, honey."
She scoffed, gently pushing him away before turning to face him. "Well, then don't give me a reason to scream."
Realizing what she had just said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Zaid began to chuckle, his hands coming up to gently cup her face. "I think you're underestimating me, love," he teased affectionately.
Leila rolled her eyes before Zaid leaned down to capture her lips with his own. He pushed her against the wall, his hands reaching for their own bedroom door before opening it and pushing her inside. Zaid swiftly picked her up, Leila wrapping her legs around his waist as they fell onto the bed.
Their lips continued to move against each other while Zaid tugged at her shirt, his hands moving under it to touch her skin. Leila hummed against his lips as he tugged at his hair. "You gotta be quiet for me, honey. You can do that, can't you?" Zaid muttered against her skin, detaching his lips from hers to move down her neck. She tried to speak but couldn't, her mind focused on the pleasure he was giving her. Instead, she nodded her head. "Good girl," he chuckled, and the two fell into a world of pleasure soon after.
The ringing of the phone in the middle of the night jolted Leila from her slumber. She lay on top of Zaid, his arms encircling her, and her frustration grew as the phone persisted. With a groan, she reluctantly reached out to the nightstand, not bothering to check the Caller ID before answering. "Agent Kade," she mumbled into the phone, trying her hardest not to fall back asleep.
"Agent Kade..." the voice on the other end spoke, but Leila was too tired to register whose voice it was. "You need to focus on what truly matters. There's someone in danger, someone who needs your help. There have been many destroyed relationships in the family, don't get lost in the details. Remember, everything starts at the beginning. Time is of the essence, and the youngest holds the key. You must find a way to save her. Can you do it, Leila? Can you be the hero she needs? Can you finally do what's right?"
Leila furrowed her eyebrows as her eyes shot wide open, sitting up on the bed, still holding the phone against her ear. "Who's speaking? What are you talking about?" The sudden change in Leila's demeanor caused Zaid to become worried, who had awoken after she picked up the phone.
"Save her before it's too late," the voice said once more before the line cut off.
"Who was that?" Zaid asked with concern, his eyes scanning his wife's face.
She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, shaking her head. "I have no idea."
Leila glanced towards their bedroom door and swiftly rose, hurrying to Jasmine's room, with Zaid close on her heels. Relief flooded her as she laid eyes on her sleeping baby, Leila's fingers instinctively clutching the crib's bars. Zaid approached, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, prompting her to look up at him. "What's going on?" he asked, concern etched in his voice.
She swallowed hard, stealing one last glance at Jasmine before guiding Zaid out of the room. Leaning against the hallway wall, she crossed her arms tightly. "I just got a really strange call. Some guy insisted that I have to find a way to save a 'her.'"
"Her? Which her?" Zaid asked, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.
"That's what I don't know," Leila replied, exhaling heavily and shaking her head. "But there was something else." Zaid nodded, encouraging her to continue. Leila took a shaky breath before speaking. "He said something about a family, Zaid."
His confusion deepened, knitting his eyebrows together. "What do you mean?" he questioned, seeking clarification.
Leila pursed her lips, pinching the bridge of her nose. "He said that there have been many destroyed relationships in the family and proceeded to finish off by asking if I can finally do what's right." As soon as those words left Leila's lips, Zaid's eyes widened in shock. "There's no way, right?"
Zaid shook his head, gently rubbing her back in reassurance. "I'm sure it was just a prank call, honey. Don't worry." Despite his comforting words, Leila couldn't shake off the unease that settled in her mind. Her heart skipped a beat when the phone rang again, causing her to jump in fear. "Hey, it's okay. I'll answer this time, okay?" Zaid offered, his voice calm and soothing as he grabbed the phone. He answered the phone and listened intently to the person on the other end. Nodding in acknowledgment, he glanced over at Leila, who still wore a concerned expression. "Yeah, she's right here," he said into the phone before handing it over to her, silently mouthing that it was Aaron who called.
Leila furrowed her eyebrows, her concern growing as she brought the phone to her ear. "Hey," she answered, waiting for Aaron to speak.
"I just got a call from Derek," Aaron spoke, his voice tense. "The Jamaican police arrested Elle for a suspected murder."
"What?" Leila exclaimed, her voice tinged with shock.
"I honestly thought it was just a stupid prank call, but he called you too?" Leila asked in disbelief. "And now Elle has been arrested. What the hell is going on, Aaron?"
As the two FBI agents were en route to Jamaica to meet with Derek and Elle, they learned that Elle had been framed for a murder. The authorities had discovered a blood trail leading to her room at the resort where she and Derek were vacationing. The victim had been decapitated, making identification impossible thus far. Aaron ensured to bring in bureau lawyers and a crime scene unit as they didn't know what they were dealing with.
"I don't know," Aaron sighed, rubbing his temple. "So much for two weeks off." The two sat across from each other in the jet, grappling with the unfolding situation. Leila was certain that Elle was being framed. It was out of character for her to commit such a crime. "You didn't have to come, you know?" Aaron remarked.
Leila rolled her eyes. "Like hell I wouldn't." Aaron couldn't help but smile, chuckling softly at her response. Leila tilted her head, narrowing her eyes in confusion. "Why are you laughing?" she asked, puzzled by his reaction.
He shook his head, reassuring her that it wasn't bad. "You're a good friend," he affirmed, knowing that she would always stick up for everyone on the team no matter what. "We're all lucky to have someone like you on this team."
Her lips turned up into a smirk, laughing at his response. "Aw, Aaron. Don't get so sappy on me," she teased. "It's not good for your image." The comment made Aaron roll his eyes.
They soon arrived in Jamaica, driving to where Elle was currently detained. Upon meeting up with Derek, he explained everything to them to the best of his ability. Once they arrived at the location, the three of them walked into the room where Elle was being questioned. Aaron presented evidence to the investigator, proving that Elle was not even present when the murder occurred. Reluctantly, the investigator handed over the keys to unlock Elle's handcuffs.
They left the room, and Leila immediately enveloped Elle in a tight hug, relieved to see her freed from the unjust ordeal. "Are you okay, Elle?" Leila asked, gently rubbing her back in comfort.
Elle pulled back slightly to answer, her expression a mixture of confusion and exhaustion. "I don't even know what the hell just happened." 
The four of them walked away, ready to depart for Quantico, eager to find out what was going on and who was sending them strange messages.
Once back at Quantico, they were informed that the headless victim's head had been sent to Gideon. The victim, identified as Marty Harris, had been rooming with a man named Frank Giles at the resort. Giles was revealed as the murderer but had fled Jamaica, prompting a search. Meanwhile, the unsettling individual who had called Leila on the phone had been sending cryptic messages to the entire team, repeatedly urging them to save a girl.
"So, clearly we have a psychopath intent on drawing us into his game," Aaron stated, the team gathered in the conference room, attempting to piece everything together.
"Playing with us," Gideon finished, his tone grave.
Elle chimed in with determination. "Then let's return the favor."
"He kept telling us repeatedly to save her. What 'her'?" Derek questioned, his brow furrowed in frustration.
Gideon pondered for a moment. "The items he's sent must be some kind of clues."
"We should put them all up on the board, then," Leila suggested, prompting Aaron to nod in agreement. JJ grabbed a marker to start writing on the board.
"I got a Nellie Fox baseball card from 1963 and I got a head in a box," Jason began.
"I got a rare butterfly in a shadow box," JJ spoke, turning her head towards the team before she turned back around to write the clues onto the board.
"And repeated messages to 'save her,'" Aaron added.
"He called me and said that 'There have been many destroyed relationships in the family,'" Leila retorted, shaking her head, her initial thoughts when she first heard the message gone from her mind. "Whatever that's supposed to mean."
"I got the decapitated body," Elle said, walking back and forth in the room with her arms crossed. "And a nice visit to the Jamaican Police Headquarters."
"Reid called from Nevada," Gideon informed them. "He's on the way back here with a skeleton key and a note he got, too."
"And the guy who called me said, 'The youngest one holds the key,'" Aaron finished off.
Elle raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "That's Reid."
"Okay, but wait a minute. UnSubs, they don't contact us this way," Derek began, shaking his head. "I mean, they might taunt us, dare us to catch them, but they don't drag us into their fantasy."
JJ turned to look at Derek, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. "Why not?"
"Because they're sexual fantasies," Derek responded, waving his hand. "I mean, taunting us is a show of power, but making us the object is…" he paused, shrugging, before clasping his hands together. "I don't know what the hell that is."
"There's something else about the baseball card," Gideon started to say. "Nellie Fox was one of the stars of the 1959 White Sox. I went to almost every game with my father that year. Fox was my hero." Leila tilted her head, her mouth slightly parted as she tried to comprehend everything. "So is it a coincidence that he sends this to me, or does he know how I feel about him?"
The little story made JJ pause, turning her head back around towards the team when she realized something. "I collected butterflies when I was a little girl. That's how I knew what butterfly was in the box."
Derek tilted his head. "So then he knows us?"
"I got an anonymous message," Aaron said, shooting down the possible idea.
"I got a police raid," Elle added.
"And I got––" Leila paused, her breath catching in her throat for a moment, everyone else in the room staring at her before she continued. "I got a random phone call in the middle of the night. So I guess not."
"But he knew exactly where we were," Derek continued, paying no mind to the sudden hesitation in Leila's voice. She let out a silent breath of relief, but her eyes locked with Gideon's, the older man staring at her as if she was hiding something. She quickly looked away as Derek continued to talk. "Hotel in Jamaica, Gideon at the cabin, Reid in Vegas, you two at your homes."
Suddenly, a certain blonde walked into the room, her expression somber. "He got that from the Bureau computers. Your locations are always logged in there so they can locate you if necessary," Penelope informed them, holding a piece of paper in her hand. The team turned their attention to her, urging her to continue. "And I checked the log. The hacker was definitely in the personnel folders. There were room numbers for the hotel in Jamaica, the address of Gideon's cabin... There's a lot of information in those databases."
Aaron, maintaining his usual stoic demeanor, questioned her. "Have you figured out how he was able to breach the Bureau's computers?"
Penelope swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "I'm still working on that."
The team noticed the tremor in her voice, sensing that she was holding something back, a realization that struck Leila as hypocritical, given that she was doing the same. "Garcia, if you know something…" Aaron prompted, his tone firm.
"No, it's, um…It's just…I…" she stuttered, struggling to articulate her thoughts. "I was playing a game yesterday. An online game."
Gideon raised his head. "A game?"
Penelope quickly interjected to clarify. "Not on the Bureau computers, sir. On my own personal laptop."
Derek sighed, leaning forward. "No, Garcia. No, no, no."
"I don't understand," Aaron said, clearly puzzled. Leila released a breath, realizing the implications. She knew Penelope didn't mean any harm, but she couldn't help but pinch the bridge of her nose.
"Wireless Internet," Derek explained succinctly.
"By wirelessly hooking into the Net here to get online, the hacker could have accessed my computer first, and I have far less protection on my own laptop," Penelope clarified.
"And he could have infiltrated the entire Bureau computer system this way?" Aaron inquired, his brow furrowed and his arms still crossed.
"Yeah, it's possible," Penelope confirmed solemnly.
"Playing a game?" Gideon shrugged, standing up from his seat. "How could you be that stupid? Information, files. You have a responsibility," he said frustratedly, and Leila noticed the hurt on Penelope's face.
"I know, sir. I'm so sorry," Penelope apologized, her voice breaking. The team looked at her with sympathy, but then she spoke again. "But I found him."
"You what?" Elle questioned, disbelief evident in her tone.
"I know who he is, the hacker. His name is Giles. Frank Giles," she rushed out, unfolding the paper in her hand. They all looked at each other as soon as she revealed the name, their eyes widening. "He lives in Arlington, Virginia, four miles from here. I have his address."
Leila stepped forward. "Garcia, you said Giles?" she asked, seeking clarification.
They soon went to Giles' address to apprehend him, only to find him murdered in his room, stabbed with a sword. A chilling note, written in his blood, adorned the wall, stating, 'Here thy quest doth truly begin.'
Searching his room for any clues, they discovered a bag of money on his dresser. They assumed that Giles had carried out the murder of Harris as instructed by the unsub, who, in turn, rewarded him with money. However, the unsub had turned on Giles, ultimately killing him. The unsub continuously left them clues, using language reminiscent of the medieval times.
They found a CD the unsub left for them, watching it once they got back to the BAU. He named them one by one, including pictures of them, making it clear that only the team was to complete the 'quest.' Despite the unsub's instructions to exclude anyone but themselves from the case, Gideon was adamant about holding a press conference.
After the press conference, they continued to sift through the clues. Leila glanced over and noticed that Elle had fallen asleep on the couch. "Someone's really tired," she remarked, her gaze fixed on Elle's sleeping form.
"Can you blame her?" Derek questioned, giving Leila a sympathetic look. "She hasn't slept for thirty-six hours."
Aaron entered the room and immediately noticed Elle asleep on the couch. "Elle?" he called out.
The brunette quickly shot up. "I'm awake."
"I'm sending you home," Aaron told her firmly.
"No," Elle sighed, resisting.
"You need to get some rest, and we won't do anything without you," Aaron reassured her.
"Elle, seriously," Derek spoke up. "We're not any closer than we were. Get out of here. Go home."
"But––"
"It's an order." Aaron gave her a pointed look.
Elle turned to look at Leila, who nodded in agreement. "You need to sleep, Elle. Go home and recharge, you'll feel so much better."
With a defeated breath, Elle stood up from her spot on the couch and walked away with Aaron. Leila, Derek, and Spencer continued to work on the case, but nothing seemed to be coming to mind. Leila's eyes focused on the rows of numbers on the paper the unsub had sent them. The unsub told them that they needed a specific book to decode the message, but they were unsure of which book to use.
Leila ran a hand over her face, massaging her temples as she felt another headache coming on. She stood up from her chair to take a break, letting the team know that she would be back after a few minutes. Exiting the room, she headed towards her office but then noticed Haley with Jack in the stroller sitting in Aaron's office. She was only here because the unsub dropped off a note at their home. 
Knocking on the door, she heard a faint "come in" and she walked inside. She gave Haley a warm smile as she hugged her. "You look really tired, Leila. Are you doing okay?"
Leila chuckled, nodding. "This unsub is really kicking our butts right now. We still feel like we're getting nowhere with all of this."
Haley gave her a sympathetic smile, putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, you guys will eventually figure this out, just like you always do." Leila returned the smile, but then her eyes moved over to the stroller. "Jack's still asleep. Aaron told us to stay here until it's safe."
"And he made the right call," Leila responded. "I'm going to get back. I just needed a small break from being in that small room."
"Of course, I'll see you later, Leila." Haley waved goodbye as Leila exited Aaron's office. Leila decided to walk to her office and try her best to think of anything that could help.
She sat in her chair, her mind drifting to Elle, who was likely already sleeping in the comfort of her own home by now. She felt a pang of sympathy for her best friend, knowing everything she had endured over the past day, from being arrested to the unsettling games the unsub was playing with them. She was relieved that Elle had finally gone home to get some rest.
Yet, despite this, she couldn't shake off the strange feeling that something was about to happen.
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hobateas · 2 years
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the art of craving | intermission 1
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It's easy to feel like you're floating on the clouds when you're near them, it's easy to have them right under your grasp and feel as if they are yours, but why does it feel as if the more you crave them, the more it all seems to fall down?
alternatively, you're a fluffer, irrevocably in love with the seven you work with and it's hard to navigate through your feelings when your hearts are fluttering messes in the presence of each other.
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. porn industry workers!ot7 x f!reader (side f!oc x reader)
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞. smut, fluff, crack | f2l | fluffer!au | pornstar!au | unrequited love!au | mutual pining!au.
𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 18+ (mature)
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 2.4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. dom!bts | sub!reader | misunderstandings | pining | lesbian content (reader is bisexual) | chapter specific: one second of sub jinie and dom oc (misha) | mentions viagra | masturbation (m receiving) | marking | roleplay (it's a porn set) | mentions sex but no description.
𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬. thank you dee @sugakookitty for this amazing banner! :D and also thanks a ton to my little birbie pauli @kookstempo im still surprised you read it so fast and managed to turn this piece complete, thank you babe <3
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞. i know im incompetent but hey, this is something haha! this is the backstory of the favour the boys plan on asking misha for, and an insight to their relationship! any feedback or comments are appreciated <3 comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist!
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series masterlist. ʚɞ next.
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“Misha, for fuck’s sake! Stop dragging me around, woman!” Jin whined as said woman’s grip on his wrist tightened.
“Shut up for one second, Jin.” She grumbled under her breath, feeling nervous about what she was about to ask him.
Misha abruptly stopped, making the poor man stumble over his feet. He barely managed to catch his balance before he was being pushed inside a dark room, wherever it was. There was just a small ray of light coming in from a crack between the blinds and it smelled funky, like a mix of moss and cleaning supplies.
He scrunched his nose at the stench, hands resting on his waist with a sass known to only him. With a glare at the woman's figure, or what he hoped was the woman's figure, he took a step closer, so that in the event he tripped and fell, he took her along with him, cushioning his fall with her body.
“I swear on my life, Misha, if you have brought me here to kill me, I will end you.” He threatened, vigilant eyes on the unsuccessful lookout for any threats. 
“Oh my, this is- oh fuck. Gimme a minute.” 
He could hear the tremble in her voice and his gaze softened. 
An outsider would describe Misha as a bold and intense force, they’d justify it in the way she walked around like she could end the world at the snap of her fingers. But unlike Thanos, she was kind-hearted, and did not intend to kill anyone, much to Jin’s relief. But there was an edge to the way she talked, the way she commanded and stole your gaze towards her. She was alike Namjoon, but the only difference was the man loved, but the woman fucked. Did u just add italics or am i blind
“Alright, but tell me what’s up. I hate suspense.” He muttered.
“Yeah, alright. Here goes nothing.” She took a deep breath. “You know Jihoon? The new recruit? He’s the one with the pretty bangs and pretty eyes and the pretty voice and-” 
“Oh! I see what this is about. You’ve got boy problems~” Jin chuffed, doubling over as he clutched his stomach harshly.
“W-Well yeah! I mean- it’s only a silly lil’ crush but-”
“A silly little crush.” He cackled. “I’m sorry but what the actual fuck?”
He longed to see Misha’s face, he was sure it would be burning up in embarrassment. 
“Jin. Please.” He heard her murmur, voice scratchy.
“I- Oh my, Misha, you have a schoolgirl crush on the new guy. I’m actually gonna-” 
He felt a hand push him backwards and an ungraceful sound left his throat as his back collided with the door they had entered from. That door was disgusting, it probably hadn’t been cleaned in a decade and his back had touched that. A full-blown shiver spread down his spine as he attempted to move to wherever else he could but failed as the hand kept him locked in place. 
Misha stood on her tiptoes, leaning into his ear. There was still some distance between the two of them, but Jin didn’t know how to feel about the close proximity. The desperation in her voice was real, she was speaking the truth about her crush on Jihoon. Though he could feel the guilt slowly build up in his gut, he didn’t think he was entirely at fault either.
Given Misha’s fuckgirl reputation, he just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that she wanted to commit to someone. 
Guess people do change after all.
“I’ll make you a deal. Be a good boy and listen, okay?” She wrapped her hand around his bicep, her warm breath hitting his sensitive neck. 
Jin couldn’t help but squirm lightly, swallowing thickly as he saw her in a whole new light. A sheen of sweat covered them both, out of arousal for one and humiliation for the other. The silence that covered them both for the next few seconds was suffocating, yet neither dared to move.
“You tell me how to woo a boy - the dates, words, and all that cute shit. In return, I’ll do whatever you want when the time comes. No take backs, no excuses. Fair enough for you?” She hummed sweetly, as if coaxing a child.
“Whatever I want?” Jin shuddered. 
“Anything. I mean it.” She affirmed, moving her hand to his hand, rubbing the skin in soothing circles. 
It was weird for Misha to be this close to her co-star without having it be in a scene. She wasn’t big on physical affection, ironic considering her job as a pornstar. But she had to make a living and circumstances led to this; it was written in her destiny to be where she was right now, and so she accepted it. She didn’t know if she was pushing Jin too hard, but it’s hard to unlearn what you learned young.
“Y-You don’t have to do it, but I’d greatly appreciate it.” She mumbled, patting his hand as she stepped back from his bubble.
“Hey, I don’t mind. It’s a two-way street after all.”  He shrugged, finally pulling himself off the repulsive door.
Misha lifted her head with a million sparks in her eyes, eager to meet Jin's hand in a shake to finally confirm the deal. 
“You’re sure, right?” 
“Yeah, why not. I’m not the best in the dating category but I do have a few inklings here and there.” 
“That’s completely fine. We can put two ‘n two together and come up with something.” She smiled.
“Yeah, and we can always take the help of Yoongi and Hoseok. They are the best at romance, from what I’ve heard. Do you know Soyeon from the camera department? They dated her for a month or two but she still doesn’t shut up about the roses and chocolates they bought her during that time.” He recalled, bile in his throat as he imagined himself being whipped for someone like they were once upon a time.
“That annoying woman? I’ve heard so much shit about her.” Misha agreed, thoughts shifting to the sappy moments she remembered witnessing on set.
“Well, to each their own, hmm.” 
“Let’s get out of here now, you’ve been taking up too much oxygen.” It was as if the intensity of Jin's eyeroll could be heard from miles away that made Misha snort.
“Step one is to not snort like a fucking pig, Misha. I’m sure Jihoon would want to date a human, not a damn pig.” Jin whistled lowly, ideas simmering to life about how he could annoy the living shit out of her and get away with it. 
He ignored the offended look shot his way and quickly opened the door, stepping out with his blushing ears. Eyes darting to either side of the door, he motioned Misha to leave before he did, so in the off chance someone accused them, Misha’s ass would be whipped first.
“You better hold your part of the deal, Kim.” She muttered as they walked down the hallway, a good five meters between them. She was whisked away by one of the makeup stylists before he could retort.
Kim Seokjin was a man of his word, and if the feelings were mutual between Misha and Jihoon, he'd do everything in his power to unite them. Maybe this was the universe's way of telling him to become a part-time matchmaker. 
Though in all the years of his life, he had never been appointed to work as a wingman for someone. He didn’t have experience in that department; after being surrounded with people with drop-dead gorgeous looks and sex appeal, to put it quite simply, they had no trouble with finding themselves women and men who threw themselves on them, and neither did he. And that’s exactly why he thought he’d do well, his charms were irresistible and persuasion was of second nature to him. 
But he was also an astute man, and he knew that if Jihoon was even half the man he was, he’d fall at Misha’s feet, begging for a taste of her ambrosia without needing a strong push. 
“We’re starting in two, hurry up everyone.” Namjoon commanded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he shoved a tense Jeongguk to the side before walking up to the three actors. 
“Okay, Jin, Taehyung and Misha. The first part was already filmed with Taehyung, all we need is the foreplay part. And Jin, you take the viagra and hop in once that is coming to an end. I hope you all read the script and are aware of the scenes?” A raised eyebrow in their direction was all it took for them to swallow roughly and nod their heads.
“Great. Jin, go jerk yourself off or something, you’re up in ten if everything goes as per plan, alright? You two, do not disappoint me.” 
The dark aura was unmistakably beguiling, slowly lulling everyone into their professional modes. 
Every single light was switched off and the room went dark before they were turned on again, this time a dark red that made the atmosphere more sensual than they cared to admit. Though it was evident in the way a shiver crept down everyone’s spine - they were more afraid of messing up and hearing from Namjoon directly.
The man was scary as it is, but he was the devil when he was angry.
Jin slowly made his way to an empty chair, a woman with a makeup brush following him while fumbling with his robe. She tried to pull it down with nimble hands to touch up his collar bones before giving up and leaving, seeing how the man wasn’t ready to show off his assets just yet. A sigh left his mouth as he got comfortable in his seat, hands trailing down his chest and thighs to what laid in between.
The viagra was working, that was a no-brainer. As he touched the leaking tip with his thumb, he hissed, throwing his head back at the stinging feeling. A few heads shot up in fear, hoping that Director Kim hadn’t heard the sound, but Jin couldn’t be the least bothered, not after having known said man for years. 
His almond eyes searched for Jihoon’s figure in the dark, curious to see how the man would react when he saw Misha being fucked by someone else. It was a given that he’d feel the slightest sting if he liked Misha in any way other than platonic. 
When his eyes landed on a slouched figure on the left side of the room, in the corner, with hands dangling on the sides and a nervous face, he immediately recognised him. As the sloppy sounds of sex hummed in the background, there was an evident tick on Jihoon’s face. 
“Oh baby, I love you so much~” Misha’s breathy voice echoed in the room, followed by three loud whooshing sounds of Taehyung leaving his handprint on the flesh of her ass.
He felt creepy watching Jihoon so intensely, but he couldn’t deny the rise he got out of watching the poor man suffer. He stood there awkwardly, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt before proceeding to not-so-subtly cover his front with cupped hands.
Jin almost guffawed at the scene, inviting more than a few worried stares from the staff. He played it off with a dorky smile. This was definitely the most fun he’s had in weeks, nay, months. Jihoon probably hadn’t noticed, not with the way he was desperately trying to focus on the floor, but the pornstar did notice how Misha kept glancing back at her crush, even as she got her brains fucked out. 
Oh boy, he was going to have so much fun being a wingman.
It took a while before the shoot finally wrapped up, much to everyone’s dismay, but seeing the gentle nod Namjoon gave before telling everyone to go home was definitely worth the hours of work.
A small groan left Jin’s mouth as Yoongi gently pressed an ice pack to the scratches Misha had decorated his back with, the red aggravated skin finally getting some relief. He couldn’t complain, however, not for a single moment, when he glanced at Jihoon who helped Misha to her room, wrapping her up in a fluffy robe with forbearing touches.
He also saw the tick in his jaw when he looked back at Taehyung and himself, before shaking his head and finally leaving the set.
“Did you see that?” He snickered. 
“See what?” Taehyung asked, taking a swig of cold water.
“Jihoon and Misha.” 
“What about them?” It was Hoseok who spoke up.
“Well, Misha oh-so-nicely asked me to be her wingman to help her get together with Jihoon. And get this-”
“Don’t fuck with us, Jin. Misha has a crush on the new dude?” Yoongi grumbled, pressing the ice pack further into his back, enough to have him yelp in pain.
“Firstly, I hate all of you, especially you, Min. And secondly, I am not lying,” He moved his hands in weird gestures, “She asked me to be her wingman, with the cute dates and words and what not, and in return, she said she’ll do anything I want her to.”
“What’s that got to do with us?” 
“Uh, well, you see, I’m not well versed in the matters of the heart and I need your help to help Misha to, y’know, woo Jihoon and it’s-”
“We get it, you’re an incompetent fuckboy. We’ll help but we want a share in the reward.” Yoongi nodded, completely serious.
“I hope you burn your dick. And don’t waste the reward on stupid shit. Taehyung, I’m looking at you, especially.”
“Huh? Me? What did I do?” The man questioned, offended bythe words of hate thrown his way. “Exist.” Jin retorted. 
“Uh guys, I hate to be the one to break your bubble, but I think they won’t need any help.” Hoseok walked to their side, blushing ears and an embarrassed smile on his face.
“Why? Oh…”
A loud moan echoed in the room just then, prompting everyone to clear their throats.
Misha was going rough on him, that was certain for sure. 
“Oh well.” 
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toburnup · 2 years
Text
📌 Adure fic masterlist
my ao3 | 💙 favourites | 🪐 in progress
series:
mark my skin, use your teeth 💙 [E] Eddie does his own tattoos. Steve would look hot with some ink.
take the edge off 💙 [E] Robin and Steve make a bet that Steve can't cum for 30 days. Eddie is... unhelpful.
there's something about us [M] Steve and Eddie keep having sexual tension, and eventually someone has to say something, right?
sleep it off [E] The venom from the bat bites has an... interesting effect on Eddie and Steve. ⚠ Dubcon warning: sex pollen.
cybersex [E] Steve sends an intimate video the wrong number.
parasomnia [E] Eddie knows when people dream of him, feels every touch. It doesn't happen often. That is, until Steve moves in.
multi-chapter:
throw me one 💙 [E] 40k, 5 chapters | Steve and Eddie are friends with benefits with the important caveat - no kissing, ever, under any circumstances.
cuffing season [E] 22k, 3 chapters | Steve and Eddie are handcuffed together for 24 hours.
is your light on? 🪐💙 [E] WIP | From '87 into the future, Steve and Eddie collide over, and over, and over.
oneshots:
subtext (something i can't quite put my fingers on) [T] 3.4k | Five times Robin suspects something between Steve and Eddie, and one time she figures out she's right. Steve & Robin centric.
let it roll into the night 💙 [M] 19k | It takes one year for Steve to fall in love.
hanging by a thread (connecting me to you) [G] 2.6k | Eddie comes out, Steve responds poorly, Robin has something to say. Steve & Robin centric.
the pulse that i'm pressing 💙 [T] 3.5k | A day-trip to the lake. Steve swims like a fish, Eddie's stuck on shore.
that backseat afterglow [E] 4.3k | Argyle, Jonathan, and Eddie pick up a reluctant Steve in Argyle's van. There's nowhere to sit but Eddie's lap.
break for me [E] 3.6k | literally just a handjob fic
after the beep [T] 1k | Steve leaves Eddie a drunk voicemail
lead the way [T] 3.5k | The gang goes through a haunted house, Eddie offers Steve his arm
stuck between your tongue and teeth [E] 3k | Ever since Eddie and Steve started having sex, Eddie has been - quiet
like a bruise [T] 1.4k | Steve has a bruise on his leg and Eddie can't stop staring
smoke signal 💙 [E] 5.7k | Steve finds an outlaw hiding out in his barn
defrost [E] 9.3k | Eddie hates Steve. And now they're trapped together in the car, in the snow.
and steve makes three [E] 7.8k | Before it was Tommy and Carol, it was Tommy and Steve.
to cherish [M] 2.5k | Steve is getting married. Tommy helps him write his vows.
where it counts [E] 4.7k | Steve and Eddie have a series of movie nights
make some room [E] 15.1k | Steve and Chrissy are married, Eddie crashes on the couch.
no pressure [E] 11k | Steve kisses Tommy. It's a joke, it doesn't mean anything. There isn't an explanation for what happens after that.
filling in [E] 2.5k | Chrissy's usual massage therapist isn't available. She gets the new employee instead.
agitation [E] 3.3k | Jonathan likes taking photos, Steve likes being looked at. It works.
cushion [E] 2.1k | Eddie sits on Steve's lap during movie night.
other:
three minutes 🪐 [not rated] | All my 3 minute fics / tumblr writing in one place.
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skibasyndrome · 20 days
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Hey Simon 💜,
I was wondering about 8, 9, 14, 24, 31, 33, 38 and 40 for the fanfic asks.
Please just pick the ones you want to answer :)
Hiiii, thank you so much for the ask, dear Sophia 🥰💜
8. How slow is a slow burn?
God do I love a slow burn. But at the same time! With Wilmon slow burn just feels near impossible. I feel like there's always already this spark of intense interest with them, at least when I write them.
But tbh, my definition of a slow burn is very wide. Do they long and pine for two chapters? Slow burn. Do they long and pine for 20 chapters? Slow burn. Whatever feels like it's right for the story.
But yeah, idk if I could ever do the more general definition of a slow burn justice, lol, I mean I had Wilmon hooking up in a club and Wille is already plotting their future together 😭😅
9. Thoughts on cliffhangers.
LOVE. They PAIN me, but fuck, do I love cliffhangers. I haven't really had a chance to use them because I haven't posted any longer fics but let me tell youuuu cliffhangers are coming!
14. Write and share the first sentence of a new fic. Just that.
Simon hurries along the path towards the lecture hall, backpack slung over one shoulder and camera in his hand.
(iykyk 👀)
24. Thoughts on flashbacks/flashforwards.
Hmmm, I've personally never used them a lot because I can never quite manage to weave them in organically imo. If I so have to refer to something in the past I generally try to keep it short and as vague as possible.
31. What was the most difficult fic for you to write (but in the end you made it)?
Hmmm... I mean I gotta say that back in the day I simply never finished fics that seemed too difficult 💀 But for my new writing "era" or whatever you wanna call it I reeeeaaaally struggled with Never Letting You Go because I somehow had all these doubts and all these fears and was convinced that everybody would hate it 🙃 But you know that best, Sophia, thanks for helping me get through that low 💜
33. Give your writing a compliment.
I like to think that my explicit scenes are realistic 👀
38. "This never happened" fix-it fics or "this happened but" fix-it fics?
Ohhhh, I love when people find a way to fix things while keeping the problem in there. That's just super impressive. Idk if I could do that though, I like to just ignore inconvenient parts of canon with no reason other than "because I said so".
40. Write a 9-word fic.
this is so fun but so difficult every time
They collided, setting fire to the air around them.
Please send me writing asks <3
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