#when she walks into the party wearing that red dress knowing they were all judging the hell outta her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thetriumphantpanda · 7 months

Text

i work from nine to five; hey hell, i pay the price | Marcus Pike

Summary | You use the office halloween party as a way to prove you can push yourself out of your comfort zone. You didn't expect that to mean that the apple of your eye, Marcus Pike, would take an interest in you.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Plus Size F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Warnings | Explicit smut, workplace 'romance', negative talk about bodies, body issues, plus size reader, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, dirty talk, mention of food and alcohol, halloween vibes, costumes, pet names, but nothing else.

Authors Note | I told myself I wasn't going to do halloween writing, and then I had a very vivid image of Marcus Pike bending me over his desk at a work party.... So I did some halloween writing. As a woman who lives life in a bigger body, this one goes out to everyone else who has felt the way reader has felt. These are MY OWN experiences, attitudes I've had given to me, and given to myself, they aren't universal, we all feel differently about ourselves, but if you've ever been made to feel less than because of the way you look, just know I see you and that Marcus Pike would absolutely take you apart regardless of how thick your thighs are. If you liked this, please consider supporting me through my Ko-Fi.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You tug at your skirt a little, trying to pull it down over your thighs. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to choose something skimpy for the office Halloween party. A way to challenge yourself, finally start to work through the years of bullying at school, and the off-hand comments from your almond-mom who had always told you things like, ‘you could stand to lose a few pounds’, or ‘surely a salad would be a better idea?’.

It had been such a relief when you’d gotten this job two years ago, finally earning enough on an FBI salary to move out of your family home and into your own space. A space where you weren’t judged for how many fries you had on your plate, or how the pair of trousers you’d chosen to wear made your belly look. It had been good for you, and ever since, you’d been trying your best to challenge yourself to do things you never thought you’d ever have the confidence to do.

Things like standing in the office, in a pair of fishnet tights, with a skirt so short that if you bent over, Dave from Finance would get a complete eyeful. Looking around though, you couldn’t help feel like it had been a terrible idea. Amy from HR looked absolutely phenomenal in her devil outfit – a red bodycon dress that looked like it had been painted on, showing not a single imperfection on her body – and Jessica, who worked reception, in a Catwoman jumpsuit that hugged her figure perfectly. You don’t think it would ever go away, the comparing yourself to everyone else, even though you knew that Amy and Jessica would totally have their own insecurities about things.

You were trying to make yourself at small as possible, crowding yourself into the corner of the room, hand clutched around a plastic cup full of ‘spooky punch’, that Hannah, the office manager had put together, which comprised of mostly vodka, some orange juice and what looked like a whole bottle of green food coloring, with some eyeball candy floating around in it. She’d put together a Halloween playlist, which was currently blasting The Monster Mash at a decibel you think should be illegal, and everyone had contributed to her spooky buffet, which was just normal food cut into shapes – like your addition of frozen pizza that you’d cut out with a ghost-shaped cookie cutter. You know you should go and mingle. Adam, on your team has already tried twice to get you to join their little group, so you relent, and walk over, giving everyone a warm smile. It’s all going well, until Alison, nods her head in your direction and stats speaking.

“Did you work late?” She asks, to which you shake your head.

“No, why?”

“Oh,” She grimaces, “I just didn’t think you’d dressed up, is all.”

And you know it’s mainly because she’s oblivious to mostly everything, but it smarts. Sure, the orange turtleneck is something you’d worn to work before, as are the black platform heels, but the skirt that ghosts the bottom of your ass and the fishnet tights that are still probably one size too small are not something you usually wear, nor are the fake glasses, with thick black frames, or the fucking magnifying glass you’re clutching. You sigh, make your excuses and walk over to the buffet table, picking up one of the slices of pizza you’d brought. Once you’ve eaten that, you reach for one of the cupcakes at the back of the table. It’s iced like a pumpkin and the cake looks to be chocolate, which is your favourite. You’re peeling off the wrapper and about to take a bite when someone interrupts you.

“They’re delicious.”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Marcus Pike. Head of Department. Not your boss, but your boss’ boss, and the most beautiful man you think you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d sat in on meetings that he chaired, supposed to be taking notes but instead focused entirely on him and how he commanded the room. The way he talked with his hands, and how much you wish you could have him run those over your thighs. Or the way he would chew on his bottom lip when he was concentrating, wondering whether he’d like it if you did that if he were to ever kiss you.

“Oh.” You exhale softly, suddenly uber aware of the fact he’s probably just watched you eat the ghost-shaped pizza, and now, not a minute later, getting ready to bite into the cupcake, you go to set it down on the table, but he stops you, hand gently holding onto your wrist.

“Please,” He says softly, “I made them, so I need the ego boost.”

You smile a little, finally meeting his eyes, “You just said they were delicious, what do you need my opinion for?”

“I remember the raspberry muffins you made last week,” He smirks a little, “And the apple turnovers the week before those, and everything else you bring in, I need to know what the office star baker thinks about my effort.”

You’re going to refuse, say you’re already full, despite the pizza being the first thing you’d eaten that evening, that you’ll take it home with you and report back on Monday, but his beautiful brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, so you sigh, peel the rest of the wrapper off and take a bite. It’s actually delicious. He’s put some kind of orange flavouring in the icing, and the cake itself is really good.

“You were right,” You smile, “It is delicious.”

He smiles, like he’s won a prize and it makes you feel a bit fuzzy inside, that this man next to you has been affected by your praise.

“Great costume, by the way.” He compliments, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body.

“You mean you don’t think I ran out of time and came in my office clothes?” You tease.

“You’d wear that skirt to the office?” He’s smirking at you, and also offers you a wink, which has your hand dropping to the table, holding yourself up, why on earth was Marcus Pike flirting with you? “It’s good, Velma, right?” He motions to the magnifying glass abandoned on the table.

You chuckle a little, “First prize, got it first time,” You then take a moment to take in his costume, he’s wearing a brown jacket over one of his usual shirts, a brown satchel is draped across his body and he’s got a hat on, but it’s the whip that really gives him away, “Indiana Jones?” You say quietly.

“The one and only.” He smiles, opening his arms a little.

You think it must be the amount of vodka that Hannah put in the punch, but even so, your next question shocks you, “Do I ask where you got the whip from?”

He looks around dramatically, “Just checking Amy from HR is out of earshot,” Then he leans in a little closer, “It’s from my own personal collection.”

You reach your hand out, letting your fingers run over the material where the handle is holstered in his pocket. It feels expensive, although it’s not like you have much experience with them to pass judgement on what’s expensive and what isn’t.

“Feels expensive,” You hum, “Guess that head of department salary has to get spent on something.”

He reaches down and takes your hand in his gently, running soft circles over the skin on the back of your hand, “You really do look lovely tonight,” He speaks softly, “Enjoy the rest of the evening.”

And then as quickly as he was stood in front of you, he’s gone. You let out a breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding in, focusing on the way your chest is heaving and you can feel your pulse in your head. You pick up your plastic cup and down the liquid that’s left in the bottom, wincing at the strength of the vodka, then deciding you need a top up.

You mill about for a little bit longer, but still feel like a bit of a spare part. You’ve shown your face, spoken to everyone you should have, and now there’s a glass of wine and a bubble bath with your name on it back home. You pick up your coat from the back of a random office chair, grab your bag from your own desk, and sneak out as quietly as you can. You’re halfway down the hall, almost to the elevator, when you hear a voice from behind you.

“Running away?”

You turn around, Marcus Pike is leaning against the doorframe to his office. He’s taken the satchel off, and the whip is no longer in his pocket. He’s crossed one ankle over the other, arms crossed over his chest.

“Feeling a little like a spare part,” You shrug, “And there’s a glass of wine calling my name at home.”

He nods in understanding, “You drink whiskey?” He asks.

“If I have to.” You answer back.

“Well, how about you stay and have one with me,” He offers, “Leave that wine for another day.”

You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, because why on earth would Marcus Pike want to have a drink with you? It feels like someone somewhere is having a good old laugh at your expense, but you feel your feet leading you towards him, brushing past him and into his office.

You’ve been in here a handful of times before, mainly to drop of reports and papers, and only once whilst he’s been there. It’s been a very professional relationship up until now, no flirting, nothing inappropriate. You drape your coat over the arm of the small couch he’s got there – you imagine he sleeps on it when he hasn’t got time to go home during crunch time of investigations. Your bag sits on the floor next to it.

He leaves the door open, giving you an out if you want it. He points to the couch, tells you to sit down, which you do, pulling once again at the tiny skirt, trying to cover the way the skin of your thighs bulge through the holes of the fishnet tights, ultimately failing, as Marcus reaches into one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out two crystal tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them both equally, handing one to you, but he doesn’t sit next to you, he just leans against the edge of his desk.

“I always thought it was a myth,” You muse, “Agents with whiskey in their desks.”

He smiles at you, “It’s in there for big wins,” He explains, “Cracking cases and that kind of stuff.”

You nod your head, taking a small sip of your drink, wincing as it drags down your throat, “What’s tonight’s big win?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and then cringing a little at yourself.

“You looking that sinful.”

You’re taking a sip when he says it, so you end up spluttering quite unattractively at his words. Is he serious? You dab at the corners on your mouth, setting your glass down on the floor, “Sorry,” You mutter, “But are you for real?”

He smirks, “As real as you and I.”

He pushes himself off the desk, puts his drink down on it as he moves. He takes three wide strides until he’s stood in front of you. You look up from where you’re sat, hands folded in your lap. He reaches out, drags the fake glasses from your face, throws them absentmindedly onto the couch next to you. You’re breathing heavily as reaches out with one of his hands. The flat of his palm cupping your jaw, whilst his thumb traces along your bottom lip.

“Do you want me to close the door?” He asks, voice lower than you’ve ever known it.

You have no words, your tongue refusing to work, so you nod instead, because as much as you’re still thinking someone is going to come in and tell you you’re being pranked, you also want to know what he’s going to do next. He’s back to you in moments once he’s closed the door and turned the lock. The light above is harsh, but it’s needed, because the blinds are closed.

He's standing in front of you again, this time both his palms are cupping your cheeks, and he’s leaning down, ever so slowly, until his lips are a hairs breath from yours. God, you want him to push the last few millimeters and kiss you, but he’s stopped. Waiting. And you don’t want to break first. You’ve done it before, gone to kiss someone, and then felt them laugh just before you can, because why would they want to?

“You gonna kiss me, pretty lady?”

“I want you to kiss me first.” You admit on a shaky breath.

You’ve got your eyes closed, so you can’t read his eyes, look for the sense of regret in them, so it’s a shock when you feel his lips on yours. It’s so soft, barely there, before he’s pulling away, still close enough to feel his hot breath over your skin though.

“There,” His thumbs are moving across the skin of your cheeks, “Now you.”

So, you do. You reach your hand around to the back of his neck, pull him into you and really press your lips to his. His bottom lip slots between yours and you suck it gently into your mouth. You smile a little at the sound that comes from his throat, then he’s opening his mouth against yours and you’re following, doing exactly the same, letting his tongue behind your teeth as it melds with your own. His hands are dropping from your face, trailing down your shoulders. He leans forward into you a little, his hands under your arms to tug you up.

You drag your mouth from him to stand up, his hands dropping to your hips to guide you behind his desk. There are nerves bubbling under your skin because you know what he wants as he pressed your ass into the wood. He wants you to sit on it. To be fair to the department, it’s a sturdy looking desk, but the thought of the way it’s going to creak under your weight makes you want to crawl into a hole. Marcus doesn’t push though, just brings his mouth back to yours, letting his hands wander a little, dragging them back up your body to palm your tits through the layers you’re wearing.

“I think you did this on purpose,” He speaks against your mouth, “Like you knew this woman had always driven me wild.”

You don’t mean to, but it makes you laugh, “Don’t tell me Velma from Scooby-Doo was your sexual awakening?”

He laughs back, doesn’t confirm it, but doesn’t deny it either. He’s looking down your body, having pulled back a bit, “Fuck,” He mutters, “Every time I look at you, it gets better.”

“The magic of a slutty Halloween costume.” You shrug.

He nods his head, but speaks again, “It’s not just that though,” He’s speaking softly now, “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, wandering around the office all the time, driving me mad.”

This would normally be the time that you’d try and fight against the compliments being thrown your way. Tell them they must be lying, or joke that they need to get their eyes tested. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like you should do that here. There’s something about Marcus that makes you think he wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t string you along this far just to have a laugh at your expense, so you don’t do it, for the first time in your life.

You reach up to his shirt, undo two of the buttons, “You know,” You hum, “I think exactly the same as you, with your whip or not.”

He breathes out, taking hold of your wrists to stop your movements, “Let me make you feel good?” He asks.

You meet his eyes, feeling heat rise across your face, but you nod anyway, because you’ve come this far, and you can already feel wetness pooling in your panties. He drags his hands down your body, grips your hips and forces you to sit on the edge of the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, as he pushes the material of your skirt to gather at your waist. Your legs open further, and Marcus groans when your movement reveals the see-through black lace of your panties. It hadn’t felt right to dress as a sexy Velma and wear your normal underwear, is how you justify it.

You’re expecting him to tell you to lift up so he can drag your tights off you, but instead, he hooks a finger through the material at your groin and fucking rips them apart. It makes you gasp. You’d chide him for ruining them, but at this point you don’t care. They were cheap, and if it means you’re going to have his mouth on you quicker, then you’re not going to complain.

Marcus leans forwards, you can feel the heat of his breath splaying across the lace material, and then he drags his tongue across the length of your folds over the lace of your panties. Even with the material barrier between your skin and his mouth, you’re tipping your head back in pleasure, letting out a breath as he repeats his movements, dragging his fingers just behind his tongue on his last pass of movements. It’s not enough.

“Please, Marcus.” You beg quietly.

“What do you want, pretty lady?” He asks, looking up at you with angelic eyes, as if he couldn’t possibly think what it is you want from him.

“Your mouth.”

“You already have it.” He points out, proving his point by licking another stripe up your panties.

“Marcus,” You sigh, “Move the… fuck… move the damn material out of the way.”

He lets out a huff of amusement, “See,” He says, doing exactly as you ask, hooking his fingers under the material and moving it to the side, “All you had to do was ask.”

He doesn’t waste any more time now. Letting his tongue dip between your slick folds, dragging the wetness that’s pooled at your entrance up to your clit, where he flicks softly with the tip of his tongue. You feel his thumbs spreading the lips of your cunt, baring you to him so he can really start to work you up. He presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, working it gently as your hand settles into the curls on his head, anchoring him there. He’s doing all the things you love, moving between wide stripes of the flat of his tongue, and quick flicks with the tip, until your hips are grinding against his face and you’re biting down onto your bottom lip to keep quiet.

“You taste so fucking sweet, pretty lady,” He speaks against your skin, surprising you a little as he pushes not one, but two of his fingers into your soaked cunt, “Feel good?”

“Oh God,” You breathe out as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed inside of you, “Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.”

He doesn’t, the obedient man that he is. He starts dragging his fingers in and out of you, whilst his lips wrap around your clit, pulling it into his mouth, laving it with attention from his tongue, which sends you over the edge.

Your thighs are clenching around his head as your body convulses. All you want is to cry out, call his name into the room, but even though you can hear the music from the party down here, anyone could be walking past, and it would be just your luck that it would be Amy from HR. His mouth is working you through those aftershocks as your thighs ease the pressure around his head.

He's breathing as heavy as you are when he stands, slotting himself between your open legs. You can feel the hard length of him pressing against your silken center, as he dips his head to kiss you again, your taste intoxicating on his tongue.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, almost desperately, “You gonna let me?”

“Please.” Is all you can get out, as he drags you off the desk, flipping you around so your front is pressed against the wood of the desk.

He’s got his hand on the nape of your neck, pressing you down. You can hear him undoing his belt, dragging the zipper of his jeans down. You shuffle a little, widening your stance as he takes his place behind you. You can feel him dragging his cock through your folds, gathering the slick he’s pulled from you, before he’s plunging into you in one go. It takes everything you have not to scream. He’s big. Stretching you like no-one has before and it feels so fucking good.

Marcus is still gripping the back of your neck as he starts moving, his other hand gripping the plush cheek of your ass, spreading you open even more as he slowly drags himself in and out of you. He’s going slowly, and you think that the way his breath is hitching in his throat means he’s struggling to keep his composure, so you decide to have a little fun.

When he’s pulled almost all the way out of you, you turn your head as much as you can with his hand resting there, looking over your shoulder at him as you wiggle your ass, slowly backing into him, letting your cunt suck him right back into you again.

“Baby, you can’t do that,” He pleads, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, “Carry on like that and this will be over before it’s begun.”

“Don’t care,” You mutter, “Harder, please.”

He starts pounding into you now, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obscene. You’re both trying as hard as possible to keep the moans and groans as quiet as possible, and you can’t help but wish he wants more, that he’ll take you home sometime, unwrap you and let you scream for him, but you decide to focus on the here and now.

“Touch yourself.” You hear demanded from behind you, “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

You snake your hand underneath you, pushing the discomfort of how your arm is trapped between your body and the desk, and start tracing quick circles over your clit. You’re already sensitive, hanging on the edge from his mouth, so you press harder, move your wrist faster.

“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Marcus groans behind you, “Close, ain’tcha?” He asks, “Go on baby, let go for me, let me feel you.”

And it’s his voice that does it, that finally tips you over the edge, has your cunt clenching around him, walls fluttering and teeth biting into your bottom lip as your knees give way. Thankfully, Marcus is gripping at your hips, which helps to keep you upright.

“Where, baby?” He asks, voice strained, and you don’t catch what he means, “Quick baby, where do you want me?”

“Anywhere.” You groan out, “I don’t care Marcus, just come for me.”

You think for a moment he might stay inside you, which would be fine, you thank the implant under the skin of your arm, but at the last minute he’s pulling out of you, feeling the hot slick of his cum on the skin of your ass as he lets out a low groan out of his mouth. He’s breathing heavily behind you, pulling his jeans back up. You try and move, to push yourself up, but you’re worried if you move further you might collapse.

“Stay there.” He says gently, leaning over you to pluck a few tissues from the box on his desk, gently wiping away the mess he’s caused, pulling your panties back into place and letting your skirt cover as much of your ass as it can in your position.

“You okay?” He asks softly, helping you to stand, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear.

You nod, because you are, you’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, never been made to come so hard in your life, but there’s an anxiety settling in your stomach. What always happens now is they’ll tell you they had a great time, but don’t think they want to see you again, which is going to be even more embarrassing because you have to work with this man.

It's almost as if he can sense your anxiety, because he’s cupping your cheek again, leaning to give you a soft kiss on the lips, “Would you maybe want to go out sometime?” He asks, “I know we’ve done things out of order, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.”

You smile, because it does make you happy, that the man you’ve fancied for the best part of a year actually wants to take you out, “As long as you promise to take me back to yours after and let me see you naked?”

He blows out air from his mouth, but his eyes are twinkling, “You drive a hard bargain,” He muses, “But you’ve got yourself a deal.”

He’s moving from you now, over to the couch, picking up your coat and your back, motioning you over so he can help you into your jacket, hooking your bag onto your elbow, then moving to gather his own things, “Wait, right now?” You ask, sounding surprised, as he shrugs his jacket on.

“I know a great diner just down the road.” He shrugs, picking up his satchel.

He’s walking back to you, but you put a hand on his chest, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” You ask, watching a confused look fall over his face, you dart your eyes to his desk, where the whip from earlier is lying abandoned, “I’m only coming back to yours if you bring that.”

You watch as a smirk splays across his lips. He snatches the whip from his desk, shoving it into the satchel, “Well, pretty lady, lead the way.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #Pedro Pascal #The mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #plus size reader

437 notes · View notes

chaengluva · 24 days

Text

Massive Deal [5]

Regina George x Fem!Reader: Words: 4.0k: Chapter Index

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you hang up the phone, a pit forms in your stomach. The thought of going to Regina's Halloween party brings back memories of the embarrassment and humiliation from the last party. You start to dread Monday morning, knowing that you'll have to face Regina and her friends at school. The fear of reliving that same nightmare makes you wish you could just disappear.

The rest of the week ends. You try not to think about the party in a few weeks. You're just scared to go to school. Everyone knows you are lesbian. You just need to figure out who runs the account. You can't shake the feeling of being exposed and vulnerable, and the thought of facing Regina's clique only adds to your anxiety.

You spend hours trying to piece together who could be behind the account but come up empty-handed. As the days pass, the dread of Monday is over you the whole weekend, you don't even get to enjoy it.

The morning arrives, and you hesitantly make your way to school, the burden of the secret Instagram account heavy on your mind. As you walk through the halls, you feel eyes on you and whispers following in your wake. The fear of being outed consumes you, making each step feel like a mile.

When you first walk into school, you feel everyone's eyes on you. You hide yourself and decide just to go straight to class.

In class, you try to focus on the lesson at hand, but your mind keeps drifting back to the mystery of who could be behind the account. Was it someone from Regina's clique? Or maybe someone you least expected? The uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

During lunchtime, you sit alone at a table in the corner, avoiding eye contact with anyone who passes by. You can't shake the feeling of being watched and judged for who you are. The anxiety builds within you like a storm ready to break.

After school ends, you head home with a heavy heart, dreading the next day when you'll have to face them again, and again, you have to avoid yourself from everyone.

You can't talk to Bella because of what she did, and she is sitting with Charlie and Jennie, so you can't sit with them either, so you just sit alone because Oliver hasn't been at school the last few days.

As the Halloween party approaches, the tension at school only seems to intensify. The stares and whispers from classmates make you feel even more isolated. With Bella's betrayal still fresh in your mind, you find yourself sitting alone at lunch, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The thought of facing everyone at the Halloween party fills you with dread, but you know you can't hide forever.

A large part of you doesn't want to go; another part just wants to go to see what all the hype was about. Also, Gretchen wasn't letting you stay home; she forced you to come. You were dressed as the devil, wearing a red satin dress with a black lace design. You also wore red devil horns to finish up the look.

When you walked inside Regina's large house, Gretchen dragged you away, leaving you alone. You sighed, walking around the house to get a drink.

You grab a drink and turn around, bumping into someone walking the other way. Your eyes go wide when you notice who is in front of you. It was her, the queen bee; she looks so good in her costume, and in some ways, you were matching.

She was wearing an angel costume, and you were wearing the devil, but if you were to think about personalities, it would be the other way around.

She looks down at you with hungry eyes, pushing past you to get herself a drink. You roll your eyes and walk somewhere else, talking with people along the way. You were leaning against the wall, holding your red solo cup, and a few boys decided to come up to you.

"You're really pretty." One of them said, You awkwardly laugh, hoping it would change the conversation, but it didn't. The other boy put his hand on your waist, and you started to feel very uncomfortable.

"Um, can you please let go?" You said, with an awkward tone, that the other guy puts his hand on your back and moves it down to grab your ass. You gasped, being speechless and not knowing what time it was. You quickly moved away from them and said, "I don't want to do this."

The two boys look at each other and laugh. One of the boys said, "We know you're a dyke." The other one nodded, saying, "We were just trying to make you normal again." You have been through this many times—so many times when the whole situation became normal to you—but it still hurts.

You turned around to leave, but a familiar voice came from behind you, making you turn around. "David, Carson." Regina said with bitterness as she moved to stand next to you, "I don't remember inviting you so the two of you can leave."

"Oh, we didn't mean—" They tried to come up with an excuse: "Save it! Leave." She snapped, and the boys quickly ran off. You were about to thank Regina, but she grabbed your hand and rushed you upstairs before you could.

She took you into her room, leaving you confused. (You weren't complaining, though.) She sat you down on her bed and looked at you up and down. "Your outfit is cool." She said, smiling, reapplying her lipstick. You nervously smile, feeling intimidated by the beautiful woman in front of you. "So, is it true?" Regina asks.

You give her a confused look, standing up, then asking, "Is what true?" She laughs, "Is it true that you're a lesbian?" You were taken back by the question; you knew that she follows the account and she already knows the answer so you weren't going to get away with lying so you take a deep breath and say, "Yes. It's true."

Regina moved closer to you, grabbing your face and saying, "Perfect." She pulled you in for a kiss. Passionately moving her lips against yours, she shoves her tongue inside. After a while, she pulls away, and the biggest smile is on her face.

For a second, you thought, maybe you weren't delusional; maybe your crush actually liked you back, and you could start dating her and happily tell all your friends, thinking this, you say. "Wow, that was." You begin to talk, but Regina cuts you off.

"Pathetic, you're fucking pathetic." Regina said, giggling. You couldn't help but let the tears fall through. You felt so embarrassed and ashamed. You rushed downstairs, and you pushed past Gretchen, who looked concerned.

You called a taxi and decided you didn't feel like going home; you just wanted to go to a club. You took your devil horns off so your outfit seemed more suitable for a club. You walked in, deciding to order a cocktail. You put your hands in your face, feeling abandoned and broken by what Regina George did to you.

You felt someone sit next to you. You turned to look at her, and she smiled at you, asking, "Rough night?" You sighed, nodding your head. She giggled. "What's your name?" You smile back at the girl, saying, "I'm Y/n. Y/n L/n, what's yours?"

"My name is Leighton, Leighton Murray."

You smile at the pretty blonde girl. Turning away to drink your drink, she reaches for you to touch your shoulder. You turn to look at her, and you make eye contact for a few seconds before she speaks up. "You're really pretty, you know." Leighton whispers, putting strands of hair behind your ears . Your heart flutters at her words, and you feel a rush of excitement. "Thank you," you reply, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. Leighton's smile widens, and you can't help but feel a strong connection to her in that moment.

"So, what brings you here?" You ask, looking the girl in the eyes. "Well, my dad decided to pick up this job last month; I had to move schools in my senior year." Leighon says, taking another sip of her drink. You frown, feeling slightly bad. "I'm sorry," you say. She shakes her head and giggles. "You don't need to be sorry, pretty girl." You feel yourself blushing at her words again.

Leighton's casual personality puts you at ease, and you find yourself opening up to her without hesitation. You end up talking for hours, you forget everything that happened that night, and you pull out your phone. You gasp when you realise it was past 4 a.m., you get up, say goodbye to the girl, and you leave the place.

When you got home, all the events of the party started flooding back to you, and you remembered the pain you had and what Regina George did to you. Another part of you was also annoyed with yourself for not getting the girl's number; you really only knew one thing about her: that her name was Leighton Murray.

You toss and turn in bed, unable to shake the memories of the past creeping back into your mind. The pain of that night resurfaces, making you question everything you thought you had moved on from. The image of Regina George's malicious smile flashes in your mind, fueling your anger and frustration. You make a mental note to find Leighton Murray, to reach out, and perhaps to find solace in someone who understands. With determination in your heart, you drift off to sleep, hoping for a better tomorrow.

The next morning, you wake up quite late; it was definitely past two in the afternoon. You open your eyes, and your heart drops when you hear Regina's voice from downstairs. What the fuck? Why would Gretchen invite her? You don't want to see her irritating face, so you climb out of your window.

You grab your helmet and hop on your bike, deciding to ride to the mall to clear your mind. The cool wind against your face helps alleviate some of the anger and frustration swirling within you. As you pedal through the familiar streets, you can feel the tension slowly melting away. The rhythmic motion of cycling helps you focus on the road ahead, pushing aside thoughts of Regina and Gretchen and the thought of the girl at the bar last night.

Arriving at the mall, you lock up your bike and take a deep breath as you enter the bustling shopping centre. The sound of chatter and laughter fills the air, distracting you from the negative thoughts that have been plaguing your mind. You wander through the stores, browsing aimlessly as you try to find some sense of peace.

After a while, you decide to stop at a café for a cup of coffee. Sitting alone at a table by the window, you watch people come and go, lost in your own thoughts. You order a chai latté and a caramel slice. As you sip your drink, you hear a voice calling out your name. You turn to where the voice was coming from, and you smile when you see Jennie.

She sits with you, giving you a hug. "I haven't seen you in ages!" She exclaims, You nod your head. "Yeah," you say, frowning slightly. Jennie frowns back, holding your hand. "Hey, you know I don't care that you are lesbian." She says this, rubbing your palm with her thumb. You nod your head, but the memory of what Bella did to you comes flooding back.

You start to talk for a while, and you try your hardest not to bring up what happened with you and Bella because you don't want to ruin their friendship, but she keeps asking why you aren't sitting with her and the others.

You look at her dead in the eye for a few seconds; you don't say a thing; it makes her scared, so she breaks eye contact, which makes you speak up. "I was seeing Janis, and it turns out she was cheating on me with Bella."

Jennie gasps; she puts a hand on your back, giving you comfort, but you were already over that. "I think Bella runs the North Shore memes account." Jennie nods, agreeing with you, but she is only doing that to make you happy. She shakes her head to break out of it and says, "Let's not jump to conclusions. Who knew you were lesbian before the whole post?" Jennie asked.

You sighed deeply and answered, "Bella, Gretchen, Janis, and Damien." You say, Jennie nods, writing it down. You giggle at her actions, but then speak up again, "Oh! Janis' mom knew, but that's not important." Jennie cut you off by putting her finger on your lips. "Shush, all information is important."

The two of you talk for an hour, discussing all the needed information. "It's like we need the photos and the red string." You joked, and Jennie's eyes lit up. "Oh my god! Yes! Come home with me after school on Monday." She said, grabbing all her notes and standing up, "Jennie, I was joking!" You exclaimed, but she was already gone.

Monday came around quickly, and you sighed, knowing that you would have to face Regina. You put black jeans and a pink top on. You were about to ride your bike, but you got a text from Oliver saying he would pick you up.

He pulled up to the front of your house, and you could see the shock on his face. "Oh my god! Your house is massive!" You smile, getting in the car and giving him a hug.

"I haven't seen you in a while." He says you nod your head, you don't bring up the Instagram account the whole drive, and you talk about other things, like how you are excited for the school year to end when it literally just started.

He pulls up into school, and you two say goodbye to each other and head off to your home room. When you get to your home room, you put your face on the desk and hope this day will go fast, and you just hope you don't have to face Regina.

You hear the principles in a loud voice start to talk: "We have a new student joining us today." You didn't look up because you knew it was going to be someone boring. "Her name is Leighton Murray."

Your head shot up, and you made eye contact with her. Your heart started beating really fast when she started to smirk. She walked over and sat down next to you. "You're the pretty girl from the bar!"

You just nod, too flustered to even speak, which she finds adorable.

Leighton and you had a few classes together, and she would spend them sitting next to you because she had no other friends, but that wouldn't last long. Many people aspired to be friends with her because she was like a magnet, but all she wanted was you.

Leighton was drawn to your quiet confidence and genuine personality, making you stand out among the crowd of people vying for her attention. Despite the many offers of friendship she received, she always made time for you, solidifying your bond even further.

You noticed that all the stuff she owned was desirable; she was rich and she was pretty. You couldn't help but think about what it would be like if you were to date her. - Lunch came around, and you were going to take her to sit on a desk by yourself since you have no one else to sit with. Leighton didn't mind that at all.

Meanwhile, Regina Geogre was fuming; she was so annoyed as she looked over at you. Gretchen noticed this and snapped her out of it. "Regina? Can you stop looking at my sister like that? It's gross." Regina rolls her eyes and makes eye contact with her short friend.

"Who is that chick next to her?" Regina asks, with bitterness in her voice, "She's in Karen's English class; I think her name is Leighton?" Gretchen says, looking over at you and the blonde, smiling when she sees Leighton playing with your hair.

She turns back to face Regina, who is looking at you and Leighton with evil eyes, then she looks over at Karen, who is looking between Leighton and Regina. "You guys look similar." Karen says, and Regina shakes her head, "God, no, don't say that; that chick is ugly." She rolls her eyes as she continues to eat her lunch, but she can't stop looking in your direction.

Meanwhile, you were talking with Leighton about what has been happening: "Well, my girlfriend cheated on me, then my high school crush used me to make fun of me, so I might take a break from dating; I think I might develop trust issues." You say, Leighton mods, rubbing your back and playing with your hair. You look up, and you see Bella and Janis kissing. Even though you were over the situation, it still hurt to see.

"Y/N!" you hear someone exclaim, turning your head. You smile when you see Jennie and Charlie on the other side of the table. "Hey guys!" You smile. "Charlie, Jennie, this is Leighton; Leighton, this is Charlie." You introduce your friends to your new one, and you see Charlie and Jennie look at each other and smirk, making you confused.

Charlie turns to you; she grabs your hand and says quickly, "Jennie told me what happened with Bella; I'm so sorry." She says sympathetically, and you shake your head with a small smile, "It's okay; I'm over it now." You paused looking at everyone that was sitting on the table.

You notice the tension in the air. You take a deep breath before saying, "The only thing that is on my mind right now is who owns that account." You say, and the three girls nod, "We will figure it out at mine today." Jennie says, you smile and nod, "Leighton? Charl? You wanna come?" Jennie asks, looking between the two girls, and they both nod because they want to figure it out just as much as you do.

The bell rings, and the four girls stand up from their lunch table and head to class, while Regina is still sitting down, staring in your direction. Grtechen notices this and waves her hand in front of Regina's face. "Do you have a crush on my sister?" She asks, with hurt in her voice, and Regina gags, "God, no, I'm not a dyke."

Gretchen takes a deep breath. She looks over at Karen, and the two girls head to class, leaving Regina alone. Regina looks at her timetable and smirks when she realises she has a free period; she knows you also have one at this time; she knows you spend your time in the library; she waits a few minutes before she heads off to the library; she sees you studying alone, which makes her happy; she walks over to you and sits on the table you were sitting on.

You notice a presence on your table, so you look up and gasp when you see Regina. Without a word, you get up. She grabs your wrist and pulls you back down. "Wait." She says her voice was stern; you knew she wasn't fucking around. "What do you want, Regina?" You ask, rolling your eyes.

"I just wanted to talk to you," Regina replies, her eyes searching yours for a reaction. You can sense a hint of weakness beneath her tough exterior. "I've been wanting to apologise for the way I treated you before. I was wrong, and I'm sorry." Her words catch you off guard, and you can feel the tension between you slowly dissipating. You took a moment to process her apology before responding.

"I'm not buying your bullshit again, Regina." You say, getting up, pulling away from her grip on your wrist, and leaving. You walked somewhere where Regina wouldn't be able to find you; your best option was a space behind the bleachers. You sat there until the period was over. It was a long time of just hoping that it would end, but when the bell finally rang, you rushed out to the parking lot.

You waited for your friends to come out; you were standing quietly by Jennie's car as you patiently awaited. For what felt like hours, the three girls came out, slowly walking to you.

"We looked for you in the library, but we couldn't find you." Jennie says, hoping in the driver's seat, Charlie hums in agreement, "Yeah, where were you?" She asks, getting into the passenger seat. You sigh, hoping into the back seat, "It's a long story." The girls nodded. They know if you wanted to tell them you would, so they don't ask anymore questions.

When you get to Jennie's house, you sit around with her. Charlie and Leighton spend a few hours linking everything up, and your main suspects are Janis, Gretchen, Bella, and Regina. You hate that your sister is up there, but it makes sense. You just hope it isn't true; you just want to find out who the person who outed you to the whole school is.

"If it's Gretchen, I will lose my mind," you say, frustration evident in your voice. Jennie places a comforting hand on your shoulder, offering a sympathetic smile. "We'll figure this out together, no matter who it is," she reassures you. With renewed determination, you all start brainstorming ways to gather more evidence and finally uncover the culprit behind the betrayal.

After another hour of going through the suspects, you feel like you have gotten nowhere. Jennie and Charlie sigh. "We are going to the store to get snacks, Leighton; please look after her." You nod, feeling grateful for your friends' support. As Jennie and Charlie leave, you turn to Leighton, feeling a sense of determination wash over you. "We can't give up now," you say firmly. "We will find out who did this, no matter what it takes." Leighton nods in agreement, and the two of you dive back into the investigation, determined to solve the mystery once and for all.

It feels like they have been gone for ages. You were hungry, and you needed a break from this whole thing. Leighton senses this, so she stops what she's doing and moves to sit next to you. She placed her hand on your thigh, which made your heart race and your face turn red. "Let's stop this; when they come back, we will have a break. I can sense that this is very overwhelming."

You take a deep breath and nod, grateful for Leighton's understanding and support. As you sit there together, the weight of the investigation temporarily lifts, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you. The tension in your muscles begins to ease as you lean into Leighton's comforting presence.

Her hand was still on her thigh, and even though she was scrolling on her phone, you saw an opportunity, and you decided to try and take it. "Leighton?" You said, voice barely above a whisper, that you would be surprised if she heard you. "Yeah?" She asks, lifting up her face from her phone and turning it off to face you.

There was intense tension between you two; your faces were close together, her hand was in your lap, and you were desperate to break it off. In an attempt to hint at her, you glanced at her lips before looking back into her eyes. You were hinting at something, and she noticed. You both began to lean closer, and she smirked and moved her other hand to grab your waist.

Before your lips could touch, the door opened. "We are back!" You heard Jennie yell.

#regina george #regina x fem!reader #regina george 2024 #reneé rapp x reader #renee rapp #mean girls 2024 #mean girls #lesbian #janis imi'ike #janis imiike x reader #orginal character #reneé rapp #fluff #angst #wlw #gxg #regina george x reader

156 notes · View notes

sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 11 months

Note

Hey i really love your fics. I was wondering if you could write(if you'd have time,of course) Sihtric x reader where she gets transported back in time from 2023 into 9th century, I was thinking season 3. Anyway, so Sihtric could meet reader in the middle of a forest, and he will be live really surprised by her appearance, like mini skirt and a blouse,or short dress, and he gets instantly smitten with her. And she thinks that he is some sort of cosplayer,but she soon realizes that she travelled back in time. So,they get together on his horse and meet with Uhtred and the rest of the boys and go back to Coocham. She gets a place to stay and helps Gisela. I don't know how it goes from there,you could make it whatever you want. Thanks im advance,could you do it like longer and include some smut. Thanks a lot. Have a good day. (Also,have I mentioned that you're my favourite writer here?) Bye.

Warnings: a little suggestive, not much.

Pairing: Sihtric x modern!you (f)

Summary: see request!

Word count: 3k

Note: first of all; OH MY GOD thank you, yes! I am thrilled to write this. I did make some slight changes to your request as I know fics with this theme have been written already, and I don't want to accidentally write something that's nearly the same. So, you requested a longer fic, and this is part 1. Part 2 will be up soon, and that's not the end of it as I am having a lot of fun with this one. And I am your favourite writer? Stop it! Thank you, dear anon. I hope you enjoy this part.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @heimtathurs @bubbles-for-all-of-us @valeskafics

'You know of Kjartan?'

******************

You don't remember how you ended up here, or why, all you know is that you woke up with a killer headache in the woods. It seemed like you had spent the night there, as you found yourself waking up, covered, under a pile of crispy leaves. In your Halloween outfit. That's right. You apparently got so drunk at the party that you fell asleep in the woods somewhere on your way home, dressed like a slutty Freddy Krueger, wearing a short, ripped, red and green sweater dress with black fishnet tights underneath and black biker boots. It seemed like you also had been robbed when you were sleeping, as your phone was gone, as were your hat and the bladed glove, which were both part of your outfit.

You felt rather relieved when you walked into a man, who was also dressed up, while you had tried to find your way out of the woods. Which seemed impossible, because you simply didn't recognise anything, as if you had never been there before.

The man was a little startled when you suddenly ran up to him, asking for help, and it confused you even more that he had looked confused.

'Can you help me?' you had asked, 'I've lost my phone and I seem to be lost too. I have no idea where I am. I was at the party last night, I assume you were too, judging by the outfit,' you gestured at him, 'I just need to use your phone. Maps, you know? So I can figure out where I am.' The man was quiet as he took a bite of his apple. And as you simply waited for him to take out his phone, you took in his appearance. He was handsome. You don't remember seeing him at the party, as you were sure you would remember a pretty boy such as himself.

He had short, dark hair, shaved on both sides with two small braids which had some beads in it. A tattoo graced one side of his head, starting above his ear and ending onto his neck. You wondered if the tattoo was real, because you thought it looked pretty damn hot, but it could be a jobstopper. He was wearing a thick, black fur cloak, which you were quite jealous of, because you absolutely regretted dressing up the way you did. You were freezing.

You couldn't really tell what was underneath the cloak, but you couldn't lie, you'd love to find out what he was hiding under there, but all you could see made you assume he just really liked Game of Thrones or something. You could see his shoes and they seemed rather rough. The man was surely dedicated to his outfit.

'You're dressed up as that winter is coming guy, right?' you asked, breaking the awkward silence as the man didn't seem to reach for his phone, or anything else.

'Lady?' the man simply said, confused. You felt slightly spooked as he suddenly spoke.

'The tv show?' you frowned, 'what's his name, ehh, crap. You know, winter is coming or whatever he says? John something… Stark? No, Stark is Iron Man, ehh, you know, right?' you tried and failed. The man looked you up and down, still confused, but you could see he was more or less checking out your bare legs.

'I do not understand, lady,' the man spoke more words now, carefully, and you felt your knees weakening upon hearing his soft, low voice and that sexy accent he carried.

'It's, ah,' you sighed, 'nevermind. I never saw the show either. I just, can I please borrow your phone?'

The man looked at you curiously. Still very confused, but also curious now, and it seemed as if he was thinking really hard about his next words to you.

'No?' he said slowly, not sounding really sure about his own words. But the man simply had no idea what he was saying no to.

'Oh,' you grimaced, 'eh, okay. Can you then at least tell me where we are?'

'Near Coccham, lady,' the man suddenly spoke confidently and a smile appeared on his lips.

God, he was absolutely adorable, calling you 'lady'? Oh, he could call you 'lady' whenever he wanted. Where did this guy come from? You sure hoped you had a mutual friend, because you were to get this boy's number somehow. And as you were already imagining what he looked liked under that cloak, you barely registered what he had said to you.

'Wait,' you suddenly snapped back to reality, 'where?'

'Coccham, lady,' he took a step closer, 'Wessex.'

'Wessex?' you frowned. Last time you checked the party was in London.

'Are you from Mercia?' the man asked, getting a better look at you as his eyes grew wider with each step he took towards you.

'Mercia?' you shook your head, 'n-no. I'm from London.'

'Lundene?' the pretty boy gasped, and his eyes couldn't possibly get any bigger, 'but Lundene is a dangerous place for a lady like you.'

'Eh,' you chuckled nervously, 'it's… not really? I mean, I grew up there, so, you know?'

'You live there, lady?'

'Yes?'

'Do you work there?'

'Well, duh, yeah.'

'Are- are you a whore?'

'Excuse me?' you scoffed.

'Lord Uhtred says I- I shouldn't fall in love with a whore again. They only want my silver,' the cute boy suddenly rambled, 'and I mean, I-I have silver! I do. Enough, lady. I can… I could buy you pretty things, if you like, and… but, n-not if you are a whore. I shouldn't do that. Not again. Lord Uhtred says you all want the same,' he stopped talking and suddenly looked shy, as he saw your confused and offended look.

Of course, the hot guy was an absolute nerd and probably a fulltime larper, not that there's anything wrong with that, it just wasn't really your cup of tea. You almost rolled your eyes when you suddenly wondered if larpers like to get a little spicy and hot when they wear their outfits. Was he just role playing now? Was this a larper way of hooking up? You became a little interested in playing along, seeing where this was going, and if he would ever break character. Or… if he was lucky and ended up in your bed, you wondered if he would still call you 'lady'?

'And… what is it we want?' you feigned curiosity.

'My silver, lady,' he chuckled lightly.

'Your silver,' you nodded and tried to look serious, 'and this lord…'

'Lord Uhtred,' the man smiled proudly.

'Uhtred. Where is this lord?'

'In Coccham, lady, I can take you there.'

'To meet the lord?'

'If you wish to, yes, lady.'

His offer was a little tempting, you wondered where on earth he would take you if you accepted. To see a lord? Lord who? And where? Was there a little larp camp somewhere in the woods where you'd be put on trial for dressing like… a whore apparently? Or would he take you to some kind of medieval sex dungeon where you could meet his "lord"? You snorted lightly at that last thought.

'Sure, why the hell not,' you blurted out, 'I am cold. I just want to get out of here. Take me to your lord,' you sighed.

'You are cold, lady?' the man looked a little concerned, which you thought was sweet, even if it was just an act, he did it well, and he was really cute.

'Yeah,' you scoffed lightly, 'I slept here apparently. I'm freezing my ass off.'

The man frowned with a smile as he listened to you. Then he unclasped his cloak and took another step closer to offer you the warm fur.

'Take this, my lady, it will warm you.'

'Eh, are you… sure?'

'I insist,' the man smiled. So damn adorable.

'O-okay, thank you,' you smiled as you took his cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders.

It was heavier than you expected, but it was nice as it was still radiating from the man's body heat, which warmed you instantly.

'Thank you,' you said again, 'what's your name?'

'I am Sihtric, lady, and you?'

Sihtric took your hand as you told him your name, and he pressed a gentle kiss upon the back of your hand, which unexpectedly made you blush.

'So, is Sihtric your real name?'

'Yes, lady,' Sihtric said with a smile, which faded slightly for a moment as it seemed he started to doubt his own name, but his grin quickly reappeared again, 'it's Sihtric, lady,' he nodded confidently.

'So, it's not the character you are dressed as?'

'W- what do you mean?' he asked hesitantly.

'Your name,' you smiled friendly, 'like, on your passport it really says Sihtric?'

'My… pass for… a -a port?,' Sihtric said slowly and shook his head, 'I- I am afraid I do not understand, my lady.'

What a peculiar guy he was. You figured he was probably the typical quiet, shy and polite guy, who would later on completely ravage you with his lord in that sex dungeon you still expected to see.

You smiled at him and told him to forget about it, and just take you somewhere warm. To which his face lit up and he told you that you could ride with him. You gladly accepted and couldn't wait to get into his car. You hoped it was a fancy car, one with heating in the seats, because your legs felt like popsicles now. You followed him and studied his outfit as you glanced over to him a few times. His armour looked good, expensive. You wondered where he got it from. Etsy, maybe? Definitely custom made. The guy must have money. You liked his Mjölnir necklace, the one thing you did recognise, and you told him. Which caused him to blush lightly as he clutched it in his fist, telling you that you must have been sent by the gods.

You felt yourself blush at his words and you had to admit, the medieval way of flirting definitely did something to you.

You studied his face now that he was closer, and you noticed he had several scars. Your eyes then trailed down to his hands, and you became a little uncomfortable as you saw that not just his face, but also his hands had scars, which looked a little too realistic. You wondered if larpers really went for that many details these days. And then you noticed his rings and the tattoos on his fingers.

'Are those real?' you pointed at the lines on his fingers, to which he nodded with a shy smile.

'Does it mean something?' you asked, genuinely curious.

'Each line is one man I killed during battle.'

'Oh,' you said, not expecting that for an answer, 'and… h-how many have you… killed?' you played along.

Sihtric looked at you and held up both his hands, showing you he had quite an amount of lines tattooed. You gave him a polite smile and looked down at your feet, slightly concerned, while you continued the walk to his ride.

'There she is,' Sihtric smiled after a short while.

'A… a horse?' you frowned.

What in the fuckery is this? He had a horse? The man literally had a horse, here, in the woods, while he was dressed as a medieval themed stripper with all his gold and silver.

'Sihtric,' you said calmly, 'is this,' you paused, not trying to snap at him, 'is this your… ride?'

'My horse, yes,' Sihtric smiled, once again proud, 'expensive she was, but a great beast.'

You watched Sihtric pet his horse and you were just at a loss. You grew a little tired of the joke, as you just really wanted some food, some water and warm clothes. Preferably at your own house. But as you still had no idea where you were, or how you ended up here, you really had no other choice than to go with Sihtric. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, you just didn't know what.

'Lady,' he smiled, 'will you hand me the cloak?'

'Eh, sure?' you said, taking it off and handing it to him.

You shivered as you watched Sihtric throw the majestic cloak around his shoulders, and then he beckoned you over. Cautiously, and confused, you walked over to him and his ride, and with ease he mounted you upon his horse. You chuckled lightly at the incredibly weird moment, but the warmth of the animal was pleasant against your cold legs. Before you realised it, Sihtric got up on his horse and sat behind you. Without speaking, he pulled you firmly against his chest, wrapping you inside his warm cloak along with him as he took the reins and ordered the horse to walk.

You had to admit there was something romantic about this, and if this Sihtric guy was trying to hit on you, he was definitely doing it the right way. You couldn't help but feel warm and comfortable against the stranger's chest and inside his cloak. You dare say you even felt safe.

'Are you spoken for, lady?' his voice sounded pleasantly close to your ear when he spoke after a while.

'Eh, no,' you chuckled lightly, 'I am not.'

You heard Sihtric hum softly and you couldn't stop the sudden smile that formed on your face. So he was hitting on you.

'Why?' you decided to ask, 'are you spoken for?'

'No,' he said softly. You glanced over your shoulder and looked up at Sihtric, whose face lit up again and he said, 'not yet.'

You blushed lightly as you understood what he meant, and you quickly turned away from him. If he married you during the larping, would it be official? You had so many questions. Even more questions raised, as your feeling of dread raised too, when you realised you still didn't recognize anything around you as your journey continued. And the feeling of disorientation consumed you when you suddenly saw a fortress in the distance. And you finally gave in to your gut feeling, accepting that something was very, very wrong.

You were sat upon a horse, in the arms of a very hot, medieval looking man, who had asked if you were a whore, and you both had no phone. You had no recollection of getting here, you did not recognize these lands, and you knew for a fact that the fortress you closed in on, was not something created by larpers. Not on this scale.

You tried to put everything together, realising this was some Back to the Future shit. Except, this wasn't the future. This was back to the past. Way back to the past. You suddenly felt lucky that you had paid attention in school during the history lessons, as you were pretty good at that, and you remembered that Wessex became the Kingdom of England in 927. But, clearly, Wessex and Mercia were still separate now, so the year was not 927.

'Where are you from, Sihtric?'

'Dunholm, my lady.'

Dunholm. You remembered Dunholm. You knew there had been a battle and you tried to remember what year it took place. You couldn't get it right. But Dunholm… it bugged you. There was something you knew about Dunholm and clearly wanted to remember. You fidgeted with Sihtric's cloak, pulling some threads as you tried to remember what you learned about it.

'Kjartan,' you suddenly said out loud, 'the cruel.'

Sihtric abruptly stopped his horse.

'You know of Kjartan, lady?' he suddenly asked, his voice a little less soft than before.

'I-I have heard of him, yes.'

'Then you know he is dead.'

Kjartan was dead. Okay, good. Information. When did Kjartan die again? Ehh, it had to be… around 879? 880 maybe?

'Oh, yes,' you chuckled, trying to sound confident, 'of course, he is dead. Ehh.. a shame right?'

'Sure. A shame I didn't kill him,' Sihtric huffed as he spurred the horse to continue.

'Oh,' you grimaced, looking down at the lines on his fingers, understanding that Kjartan was not one of those lines.

'W-when exactly did he… die?'

'It's been thirteen summers, lady.'

Thirteen. Okay, that means you're probably in… Oh, dear god…

'893,' you whispered as you walked through the gates of a burh, which Sihtric had told you was Coccham.

******************

'We are here, my lady,' Sihtric said, quickly dismounting his horse. He held his hands out, helping you off his horse by placing his hands on your hips while you found support by resting your hands on his shoulders. And so he gently brought your feet back on the ground. All while his big eyes looked at you with admiration, as if you were otherworldly. Sihtric was simply besotted by you and your appearance, and he already knew that he would do whatever it would take to make you his wife.

His hands lingered on your waist as he looked down into your eyes, and that's when you noticed he had two different coloured eyes; one hazel and one blue mixed with grey. And if you weren't so anxious, you would've thought it was the most mesmerising sight.

Sihtric noticed your face had grown grave with concern, which he didn't understand. You came from Lundene, of all places, you shouldn't have reason to feel anxious about a place like Coccham. And as Sihtric felt somehow naturally drawn to you, he didn't like the way you had become tense. Yet he also didn't know how to comfort you or if you would even allow him. But all he wanted to do at that moment was to wrap you in his arms. Instead, he took off his cloak again and threw it over your shoulders, covering you up.

Sihtric said he didn't want you to be cold, which was partly true, as it was winter and the lack of clothes you had on was concerning, but he also didn't want any other man to see what he already felt belonged to him.

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric kjartanson #tlk

306 notes · View notes

bellascool · 1 year

Note

Hey! An enemies to lovers with gavi?

ENEMIES TO LOVERS

thanks for requesting bae ��

masterlist

request on my profile

posted : 14/02/23 (European date)

He hates you so why does he keeps stopping you from fucking other guys?

WARNINGS : cussing, slightly sexual content (smut)

"Can't you just shut the fuck up for once?" Pablo said to you as you were talking to your friend Pedri

"Mind your own damn business Gavira, I'm talking to my friend" you replied back giving him a death stare which caused him to loudly sigh

You and Pablo actually hated each other. It started in high school when that bitch always made fun of you for the slightest reason.

At first you didn't pay attention but then, it became really annoying having to listen to him judge you all day.

"Y/n are you listening to me?" Pedri asked next to you

"Oh uh no sorry I was thinking of something else" you apologized

"Of course she didn't listen, she never does" the golden boy said next to you

"Shut up no one asked" you replied with the same attitude

"I asked if you wanted to come to my friend's party tonight?" Pedri asked smiling

"Oh sure, I mean I really need to chill out if you know what I mean" you playfully said as you both laughed, Pablo didn't say anything this time which was weird

"Nice, now I have to be seen with a bitch who just wants to be fucked all night by some random dudes" he finally said making you mad

"Oh my god! Can't you just shut the fuck up for once, like LITERALLY. I fuck who I want you ain't my dad" you almost yelled before getting up and leaving the backyard still angry

He definitely crossed the line.

You put on your red dress who revealed your perfect curves, it was short but still comfortable enough to wear it. You did your makeup and put on some red lipstick, wanted to look as slutty as possible just to make Pablo mad.

After finishing your makeup and putting on your heels, you grabbed your purse and went outside where Pedri and Pablo were waiting for you, parked in front of your apartment.

You hopped in the back and kissed Pedri's cheek, leaving a lipstick mark.

"Thanks for inviting me again!" you said while doing a little dance

"You're so embarrassing" the young boy said making Pedri laugh while he drove to the place

"Shut up or I'll kiss you everywhere so you have lipstick marks" you jokingly threatened

"Do it and you'll never be able to see the light again" he threatened back with a smirk

"Bet." you were about to kiss his cheek but Pedri had to interrupt

"I'm sorry to interrupt but we're there" he said while getting out of the car followed by you and the other bitch

It was a big ass luxury mansion, you could hear people laughing and music from there.

"I'm going to meet my people, I just know it!" you said before entering the mansion while dancing with your shoulders

You immediately went to the kitchen to grab a drink but bumped into someone who spilled some of their drink on your covered chest

"Gosh I'm so sorry I didn't see you!" it was a tall man, he was really good looking, dark skinned, tall, perfect face features "please let me help you dry yourself" he apologized again

"It's fine, I should've looked where I was walking. I'm Y/n by the way" you said with a smile which he returned

"I'm Jude, nice to meet you" he had a british accent which made you go crazy down here

He finally took your hand and went to a door next to the living room. It was the bathroom.

"Sit on the sink while I help you dry your pretty dress" he said with a smirk, you could already feel your panties get soaked while you did what he asked

"By the way I like your ring" you randomly said, cursing yourself for being so embarrassing

"Thanks beautiful" he replied back after grabbing a little towel and getting in front of you, gently pulling your legs apart so he can stand between them

Your breath was heavier and you could feel a tension when he started to slowly dry your skin, his eyes looked in your covered chest.

You didn't even notice you both leaning in but as you were about to kiss, the door swung open, making you stop what you started.

"I can't believe it! While Pedri and I were searching everywhere for you, you were getting fucked in the bathroom!" you recognized Pablo's voice and it made you 100 times angrier

You stood up, grabbed Jude's hand and walked past him, not giving a single look in his direction.

"I fuck who I want!" you yelled before going to the kitchen with your new friend "I'm sorry about him, he's always like that" you apologized

"It's fine, he's probably just protective" the man said behind you

You grabbed drinks for both of you as you started a deep conversation, feeling a gaze on your back.

Minutes passed and many, many drinks were consumed, everything was fine until Jude suddenly sighed

"y/n, you're a beautiful person like really but I don't think that I should be the one talking with you right now" he said before pointing Pablo who looked at you with a strange look.

It was a mix of anger, sadness and jealousy?

Nah you're crazy y/n, you thought to yourself.

I mean, he's Pablo Gavi, THE Pablo Gavi who absolutely hates you.

You turned to Jude and smiled a little before wrapping your arms around his neck while his found a way around your waist.

You finally pulled off and he left not before saying goodbye.

Man, you really loved talking to him and now you were all alone.

Not knowing what else to do, you poured yourself a drink, then a second, a third and-

Oh well you didn't even count anymore, all you knew was that you were drunk as fuck.

You started dancing with random people before bumping into a chest.

"Oh no not again" you mumbled as you tried to go away but stopped when you recognized the scent of the person you hated

"Y/n, there you are" he said grabbing firmly your waist

He looked as drunk as you were but you didn't care.

You both smiled to each other as you bounced your hips to the beat.

Pablo squeezed your hips, pulling you closer to him so your bodies were now glued.

Your arms around his neck, you gently put your head on his shoulder, still dancing.

"You look pretty y'know" he started with a smirk making you look at him

"You think so?" you asked with the same tone

"Your dress fits you perfectly but.." he marked a pause to slowly lick his lips, you could already feel yourself getting wet "you'd look even prettier without" he whispered in your ear making you shiver

"You should see to know" you whispered back

He didn't even hesitate to press his lips against yours, ruining your lipstick as his tongue found a way to meet yours.

The kiss was heated and soon enough, you felt something poke your lower stomach.

You broke the kiss, smirking as you took his hand and went outside.

The fresh air hit your face, helping you sober up but you still didn't regret kissing him.

You both stopped and you quickly ordered an uber since you weren't in the state to drive.

You leaned against the wall, still holding hands.

"Did you mean it?" you asked, turning your head to see him as he did the same

"Mean what?"

"All the messed up things you said to me" your question made him sigh as he looked down

"Y'know, I never meant anything, I guess I was just too scared to admit that I loved someone" he said not proud of himself

"You love me?" you asked confused

"How can I not love you?" he looked deep into your eyes

You smiled and leaned over to connect your lips but broke it before it could become heated.

Your uber arrived and you both hoped in the back of the car.

His hand was on your thigh and his pinky finger kept stroking it, slowly going upward.

As soon as you closed the door of your apartment, he pinned you on the wall, pressing his wet lips against yours as you put your arms around his neck.

His hands found a way to your hips, giving them a squeeze, making you jump and wrap your legs around his waist.

He didn't wast any time and went to your room, closing the door with his foot.

If anyone told you 2 days ago that you would be making out with your enemy, you would have laughed in their face.

308 notes · View notes

b4mpyre-k1zz3s · 8 months

Text

Red Carpet Dreams

Y/N gets caught up in the chaos that is the premier for Jackass Number Two.

Johnny Knoxville X Gn!Reader

(Fluff)

2.9k Words

Warnings: Very suggestive content, crude language, drug use, alcohol, prostitutes, near drowning, partying (it’s Jackass), fake relationship, flirting, paparazzi

An: Aaaaaa!! I had so much fun with this one!! For all who sent in asks- thank you!! I’ve been writing a lot more recently and I’m working on more requests at the moment so look forward to them!! :)

“Hi! My name’s Katie Cordoba, and I’m here at the premiere of the new feature film, Jackass Number Two!” The red lipped, smizing news lady chattered into the camera, obviously feigning excitement. You rolled your eyes at the charade- four years ago, those Hollywood bigwigs would’ve turned up their noses at those guys, but now they’re all over it, as Johnny would put it to you, like flies on shit.

You blended in pretty well with the rest of the crowd, all eagerly looking around, waiting for the big Hollywood movie stars to make their appearances. It made you wonder what normal premieres were like, with everyone fully dressed, mostly sober, and generally law abiding. But just as you were mulling it over, the first guest was arriving.

As the car door popped open, Steve practically fell out, however the beer in his hand was miraculously unscathed as he tumbled to the cement, as was the cigarette hanging from his teeth. Getting to his feet, he didn’t even bother to pull up his pants that were now sitting about six inches below the waistband of his gray tartan Hanses. His skinny, shirtless body was bathed in a flurry of camera flashes, stroking his already swollen ego.

Following behind him, and catching you off guard, came a woman you had never seen before. Of course, people went wild over this, shoving microphones in his face from all angles. “Steve-O!! Steve-O, who is this dashing young woman you’re with?” The lady from before muscled past you, shoulder pads and all. “Well,” Steve wrapped an arm around her cockily, slurring his words, “this here is my girl, Trixie!” She giggled. The reporter lady probed more, “Oh, you two are just adorable!! How did you two meet?”

“I saw her on a street corner a few blocks from here!” He seemed to catch the reporter off guard, something stilling behind her eyes. Leave it to Steve to bring a prostitute to a movie premiere. You could hear her start to say something then stop. “Well, I, uh- I hope you two have a nice evening.” Steve grinned, taking a drag, “Oh, you know we will!” And there he went down the red carpet, giving her a firm slap on the ass.

Following behind him with that goofy smile was Chris, boasting one lady on each arm. To all your scrutinizing, they seemed perfectly normal, not paid by the hour women. He stood for a moment in his slacks and suit jacket, posing for paparazzi photos, beaming. He whispered something to one of the girls that made her eyes go wide before unbuttoning the jacket, taking it off and throwing it over his shoulder…and exposing his lack of a shirt. Of course, you weren't complaining, and judging by the excited roar that swept through the crowd, neither was anybody else. Turning to follow after Steve, he put an arm around each, “Let’s rock n roll, girls! Yeah!”

Another car pulled up, and Ryan walked out, cool as always behind those sunglasses. He didn’t even bother to dress himself up, wearing the same clothes he passed out in last night when you had to drag him back to the hotel from the bar. “Ah! Ryan! Tell us about the new movie!” Another interviewer held a boom mic out to him, a camera guy over his shoulder with one of those CRTV sized pieces that probably cost a year of your salary. He shot a look over you as he leaned against the metal rail nonchalantly. “I mean, this one- we decided to kinda take it in another direction. It's a sexual thriller, yeah. Oh, and while filming it, Knoxville died- horrible accident. He actually-“

Blindsiding him, Bam hurled a handful of flour at him, the cloud covering not just Ryan but anybody within a 3 foot radius, including the interviewer and, by extension, you. After accidentally inhaling some, you nearly hacked up a lung, the flour sticking to the inside of your throat like paste. Through the dense white cloud, you could barely make out Bam tackling Ryan to the ground, tumbling with him for a moment. As the dust cleared, Bam threw up the horns at one of the big cameras pointed in his face, yanking Ryan to his feet. As the two hauled ass down the carpet, leaving as soon as they arrived, Bam leaned down to pick up his board, which you didn’t even notice that he rode in on.

It had been about half an hour since the event had officially started, and your little starlet still hadn’t arrived. He was fashionably late, as usual- Knoxville didn’t do anything fast- the closest he got was doing speed. Bam would tell the media that Johnny wasn’t there because he punched the intern that got his Jamba Juice order wrong and they were bandaging his sore little knuckles, but it usually was from traffic. That seemed to be the case once again.

But when that shiny black limo pulled up, and Johnny stepped out with those glinting Crest teeth and his sharp Hollywood three piece suit, you almost forgot that he was the same man that you saw a month prior farting on Jeff with baby powder in his crack. Of course, everyone went wild at his mere presence, earning an appreciative chuckle from him as the crowd buzzed like a hive of bees. You smiled, not even caring that you were blinded by camera flashes that flanked you.

All of a sudden, you felt a hand grab your arm and pull. It took you a few panicked seconds for you to realize that you were on the carpet. Moreso, it took the warmth that was pressed against your back to murmur close to your ear for you to really get what was going on. “Just be cool, Y/N.”

Johnny’s head whipped back up, smirking back at the cameras while guiding you with his hand around your waist like nothing was out of the ordinary. You stared like a deer in headlights with a dumb smile on your face, finally understanding what it looked like from the other side of the barricade. And, of course, he just had to walk you over to that reporter lady, waving around her microphone like an idiot. “Johnny! Johnny- over here!” She feigned a smile, hiding exasperation, “We’ve seen so many, uh- lovely couples tonight, so I am just dying to know who you’ve got here!”

“Well this here is Y/N.” He pulled you closer, his hand grasping you near his torso again as he leaned down to the mic, his chin resting on your shoulder, “And they are allll mine, so don’t you fellas be ‘gettin any ideas!” He pointed to the cameras like he was addressing the viewers at home. You blushed, giggling at his joke that he obviously made to get you to loosen up. The lady beamed, convinced at your charade. “Wow! How long have you two been together?” Unable to come up with an idea, you leaned into Johnny, “You know, I actually think the movie’s starting soon! So we really have to go- sorry!” The lady nodded, saying something to the camera crew as you hustled through the doors. “You did so good there!” He excitedly patted you on the back as you got into the theater. “I had no idea what I was doing!”

“Hi! I'm Johnny Knoxville, and welcome to the premier of Jackass Number Two!” The packed theater cheered as Johnny spoke at the lectern, looking more like an actual movie star under the lights of the stage than he usually did in his dickies and t-shirts, the light glinting off of his glasses as he continued, “But…I would be remiss not to introduce the fine men that risked their lives- and livers- to make this film possible. Let’s bring ‘em out, boys!”

Like the most demented parade ever, they did. Starting with Steve, who came in walking on a pair of aluminum stilts. Though you knew he knew how to use him, he made a big show of looking like he was losing his balance, teetering for a moment before tipping stern first, landing flat on his face with a clatter and an, “Ah, fuck!” Snickering, Johnny feigned concern, turning to him, “Hey, you alright, Steve- O?” He laid there really still in the fetal position for a moment, the crowd holding with baited breath, before he gave a stiff nod.

In the midst of the horde cheering, you could hear music from somewhere in the theater. You, and maybe half the people in attendance , knew exactly what that meant. And while Steve was still there on the ground, groaning and fiddling with the leather straps of the stilts, in from stage right comes Mr. Party Boy himself. “Sounds like someone called for a party!” From your seat in the front row, you were actually close enough to catch the pair of tear away pants Pontius discarded as he stripped down to his silver mankini, dancing onstage. Giggling, you sat back in your seat, watching everything play out in front of you.

Oh, and did it play out. As the finale for the grand display, an orange blur flew in from one side of the stage- Dunn’s motorcycle. You were a little scared, having no idea how it got up there, but all you could do was stare However, it took him hitting the brakes hard, leaving an inky black skid mark on the wood, for you to notice Bam, who was getting pulled behind like he was water skiing on his skateboard.

He landed, sprawled on the laps of 3 different people in the front row, his board disappearing completely backstage. After the initial groan from the impact, he burst into laughter. He was about a seat or two away from you as he rolled off of the people, leaving them to sputter and straighten their suits and fancy dresses, muttering about how he dressed or what a roughian he was. “Dude!” He scrambled to his feet, grabbing your arm and yanking you up.

Before you knew it, you were up onstage, staring back at the packed theater. Goddamn it, it happened again. Johnny looked confused at what Bam did before he caught on, cackling. “Oh! Last, but not certainly least, Bam reminded me that we would all like to thank our very lovely manager, Y/N, for gettin’ us off our sorry asses so we could be here tonight!” Johnny pulled you in, his muscular arm firmly around your shoulders as the crowd roared in applause. You stared at the sight in front of you unbelievingly, wide eyed. Johnny chuckled. “Alright, let’s get this thing started!

And the premiere went great!! The audience loved the film from the title screen to when the credits rolled. When the theater wasn't nearly vibrating from laughs, it was full of gasps and cringing at some of the more painful moments. Hell, you heard a good handful of the vomit bags the red velvet clad ushers handed out at the door were filled by the end, which brought you a strange sense of pride.

The trouble came, however, with the after-party.

“Come oooon, Y/N!” Steve hung onto you as you two sat on the couch, his arm thrown over your shoulders. He was like a round vase, wobbling around even though he was sitting. “It's not that bad…Knoxville does this shit! Maybe if you tried some, you could get that damn stick outta your ass.” He looked up at you with pupils that eclipsed his irises, making him look eerie in the multicolor club lights. You rolled your eyes. “No way!” He looked at you adoringly, “He does, I swear.” Misinterpreting you, he giggled, “Hey- Hey. Have I ever told you that I love you?” Scoffing, you rolled your eyes, peeling his arm off of you. “Yeah, right. You’re just high.” He had a sort of feigned earnestness as he rambled, hushed and surprisingly coherent. “First of all- its MDMA. Second of all- I really do, baby! You’re, like- the love of my life. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you!” He was so distracted by talking that he didn’t even notice when you got up and walked over to Chris at the pool table. He just sat there, speaking to nobody in particular.

“Hey, Y/N! How’s it goi- aagh!” His speech was cut off as Chris got hit square in the balls with an 8 ball. It was certainly a sight, seeing him spread eagle on the green felt, wearing nothing but the silver mankini, his very exposed skin illuminated by the dim yellow ceiling lamp. “Oh shit! Are- are you okay?” Holding his crotch, he winced for a moment before falling over, tumbling to the side with a grin. He nodded, putting you at ease a little. You breathed a sigh of relief, “Well, Steve told me to tell you that he’s over on the couch if you wanna hang.” Not passing up at any opportunity to bro out, he headed over to him, smiling like a golden retriever.

Just as he left, your vision caught the pool from the corner of your eye. Since the party was held at the VIP suite of a hotel, the room had everything- of course the pool table, but you also had a deluxe lighting system, an open bar, and, of course, a private swimming pool. Curious and hot, you crept outside to investigate.

The second you opened the sliding glass door, you were drenched by a wave. Opening your eyes, you saw Bam in the pool, flipping his hair back as the people around him cheered. You’d later find out he did a ‘super badass gainer’, as he put it. The chlorinated water permitted your clothes, leaving you bitter and dripping wet as Bam laughed at you, finding this hilarious. Grumbling, you took a seat on one of the lounge chairs with a broken strap, dripping onto the pavement.

And just as you sat down, Ryan came waltzing by on the deck, clearly drunk off his ass as he dragged his feet. One minute, he was up and walking- the next? Plunk. In the water. He didn’t even try to swim up, just sort of sitting down there, bubbles rising from his lips down by the bright, medically white LED pool lights. If you weren’t so worried about him, you might say he looked like a peaceful wet specimen down there.

But your veiw of him was erased- ripples and splashes distorting the reflection of him as he was quickly hoisted out from under his shoulders. Of course, that's what it took for people to stop staring at Bam, being the attention whore he was. Ryan’s savior grinned, laying him out flat on the cement, “Now this is why you should always have a lifeguard on duty, boys and girls. That’s what I- Bunny the Lifeguard- am able to save this young man’s life. I’m just gonna perform a little mouth to mouth and he should be just fine!”

Just as Chris slowly leaned down, about an inch from his face- Pow! Ryan’s fist shot up, planting one on him square in the jaw as he lurched up, coughing up water and soaking his t-shirt for the second time that night. Once he got it all up, he sputtered out, “Holy shit- dude! Are you alright?” Pontius rubbed his jaw, wiggling it a little to try and get it back into place, still smiling, “Yeah, man!” He helped him to his feet like nothing happened, the two chuckling.

As the night grew darker, a breeze blew past you, making you shiver in your seat, ushering you back into the party, warm with bodies in motion. The music R&B- loud but dull, the kind that made the insides of your ears tickle. Leaning against the wall, you looked around you at the party, everyone flirting and talking and laughing. But your head just throbbed.

“Hey, sweetheart. Can I buy you a drink?” Your ears perked up at the sound of his voice as you head whipped around, your vision dark as your face landed firmly in the vintage t-shirt covering Johnny’s chest. “Woah there…little forward, are we?” You could feel the skin and muscle right beneath the fabric. It felt warm, comforting- nice, in a weird way. He grinned as you quickly pulled away. “I’m pretty sure this is an open bar.” He raised his eyebrows with a gleam of hope, “Well, what’s your poison?”

Johnny looked at you with sweet dark eyes as he glanced over his sunglasses, close enough that you could smell the booze on his breath, “I’m sure you’d be more comfortable in some dry clothes, baby. I got a real nice shirt you could wear.” You gulped down the liquid at the bottom of your red solo cup, his attempts at flirting getting less cringy as you got more drunk. “That’s cute. Hey, why aren’t you hangin’ with Steve? I’m sure he’d be happy to let you help him do lines off some dead hooker’s ass.” Your giggling at your own joke was quieted as he gently held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning you to face him.

“Y/N- If anything, I’d rather do lines off of yours. God knows you have a great one.”

#jackass #johnny knoxville #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #fluff #jackass x reader #johnny knoxville x reader

55 notes · View notes

hsgucci94 · 1 year

Text

The ghosts came out to play

Summary: Harry and Y/N attend a Halloween party…

Content warnings: fluff??????

Word count: 3.1k

masterlist

———

Harry wasn’t so sure about dressing up that night. Yes, it was Halloween. Yes, they had been invited to a party. But no, he wasn’t in the mood to put together a few items just to try look like a movie or a book character, or even like a celebrity he might or might not know. At 35 years old, custom parties were no longer his thing, and he didn’t find Halloween as fun as before.

Y/N knew that, and of course she was more than okay with him not dressing up, but she did. Her outfit was all black: black t-shirt, black stockings, black short skirt and black boots. Nothing Halloween themed, until she added a devil horn headband and a red tail. Now she was officially a little devil, and Harry couldn’t help but chuckle the moment she walked into his bedroom fully dressed up.

“That’s gotta be your most self-explanatory costume till date, darling.”

“Oh, shut up,” she retorted, jokingly smacking his arm, which only caused him to laugh harder. His arms wrapped around her waist, and pulled her close enough to kiss her, her red lipstick slightly staining his lips. She giggled at such sight, before passing her thumb over them to clean them off.

“I’m so excited for tonight,” she smiled.

“You are?,” he mirrored her expression. Her happiness was always so contagious, and that was just one of the many things he loved about her.

Y/N nodded, pecking at his lips again, “I’ve the feeling it’s gonna be a good night.”

After dating for a bit longer than a year, Y/N was thrilled to be getting to know more about him. She had recently met his family, and that night was about to meet some of his closest friends.

Ever since their relationship started, they had been taking it slow and doing things low-key, almost hiding from the world and its sick curiosity. It was already hard enough for him to date as a famous singer and actor, so things were even more complicated now that he was a divorced man dating a girl 11 years his junior.

But Y/N had been like a breath of fresh air to him. They got introduced to each other at a friend’s birthday party and slowly hit it off; date after date and one step at a time. She soon turned into his lucky charm, the one that had helped him see things differently after having to face such a tumultuous divorce. He wanted to make her happy. If possible, as happy as she made him, so even though he would have much rather spent the night at home, watching movies, eating spooky candy and having makeout sessions every now and then, he had agreed on going to that Halloween party just because he knew she would enjoy it.

“What if I dress all black, too, and wear my red-pearl necklace? Would that match with you?,” he asked her, suddenly cheering up a bit on the whole 31st of October celebration thing.

“You sure you wanna dress up?”

“I know I said I wasn’t going to, but now you’ve made me a little envious,” he chuckled, sweetly pinching her cheek, “I don’t have anything, so maybe you can help me come up with something homemade?”

She nodded, smiling. “Of course, H. I’ve got a red trident that I’m not gonna use anymore, so I think that will be more than enough. We won’t most definitely win any couple’s costume competition, but at least we’ll look good,” she giggled, and his smile only got bigger.

When he parked in front of Niall’s house, Harry’s hands were pretty sweaty. His mind had been off all the drive there, and he was glad Y/N didn’t seem to notice while singing and humming to the songs that were playing on the radio.

At 35, he was still feeling as nervous as a 15 year-old now the he was about to introduce his girlfriend to his friends. Not because they were going to judge him for their age gap, but because it was the first girl he had been with since his separation two years back. He wanted that night to be fun and go smooth for the both of them, so hopefully it would.

“Wow, your friend Niall really went all out with the decorations,” Y/N said, admiring wide eyed the way his house had been transformed for the occasion.

Harry chuckled next to her, passing his arm around her shoulders, “The Irish always knows how to throw a party.”

Candy bowls in every table, fake spider web hanging from every single ceiling corner, and the dim light that lightened up every room gave the place the right spooky atmosphere.

“Hey! Where’s your costume?,” Niall shouted, a beer in hand as he approached his friend. Apparently, he was a Vampire; the cape and fangs gave it away.

Harry rolled his eyes, before lifting the red trident up in the air as if it was so obvious what he was dressed up as.

“You’ve always been shitty at coming up with good ones…, oh, lord. Good to see ya, mate,” the Irish man replied, bringing him into a hug, “Oh, -wait, this is her?,” Niall rose his eyebrows, looking between Harry and Y/N a couple of times the moment he noticed her standing next to each other. When he saw his British friend nodding, he smiled, pulling Y/N in for a hug, “Ah! So good to finally meet you!”

“Guess this is the poor girl that’s been bearing with your ass, Styles?,” Louis spoke, peeking behind Niall, “Y/N, right? Welcome to the squad, love.”

“Thank you. It’s so nice to finally meet you two,” she replied, smiling at the two men standing in front of her.

“So, devils?,” Louis asked them, pointing at their costumes.

“See? It isn’t so rubbish if you can guess it at first try,” Harry retorted, looking directly at Niall.

“Whatever,” this one answered, rolling his eyes, “Go make yourselves at home. There’s plenty of food and drinks for you both to have a terrific night,” he winked at them, before turning around and leave to greet someone else, Louis dismissing them a few minutes later with a small pat on their shoulders.

That was exactly what they did. They walked into the kitchen, where Harry took advantage of all the time he had spent at that house to grab the things he needed to make Y/N a drink. And of course it couldn't be any other than a Bloody Mary.

"The occasion calls for it," he smirked at her, handing her the glass. She laughed a bit, accepting it and taking a good sip.

"'S good, Styles," she passed her tongue over her lips, cleaning them.

"Thank you, miss."

"Aren't you gonna make one for yourself?"

"I don't feel like drinking tonight," he admitted, shrugging. She nodded, and entwined her arm with his before taking them to the living room, where music was blasting through the speakers as Frankenstein, the Little Mermaid, the Cookie Monster and many others danced to the rhythm..., or not at all.

"It's gotta be the scariest room in this house," Harry murmured just for her ears, looking at the dance floor.

"Harry!," she was quick to scold him between giggles, "Not everyone's lucky enough to have your moves, Mr. Treat People With Kindness."

"Right, 'm sorry," he chuckled, and she then hid her face in his jacket because she couldn’t stop laughing at his terrible joke.

In that precise moment, he was glad they were both there, and that she had managed to convince him to come to that Halloween party he didn’t even want to attend in the first place. The day he received Niall's invitation he texted him right away letting he know he wasn’t up for it. But then Y/N found the card and her eyes sparkled. She even gave him a twenty-minute rant about how Halloween night was meant to be spent outdoor at someone's house drinking extra bitter beer while plying beer pong, which seemed enough to convince him. Little did she know that what got him to agree on such plan was actually her excitement and the fact that he just couldn’t ever say no to her.

When she managed to stiffen her laugh, she looked up at him, and he took the opportunity to grab her chin and press a kiss to her lips, savouring the Bloody Mary from her tongue. "Did I tell you already how hot you look tonight?," he whispered against her mouth.

"Not yet..., no," she bit her lip, her cheeks blushing a bit.

"Alright, you two! There's an empty guest room if you wanna use it, lovebirds. Harry knowns which one I'm talking about," Niall chuckled, passing next to them.

Of course he did, he had slept there countless nights.

Y/N only blushed harder at Niall's words, while Harry's countenance turned pale.

The night Rebecca handed him the divorce papers after confessing she had been sleeping with her coworker before deciding to put an end to their marriage, that's where he slept. When she asked him to pack his things and leave the house they had bought together, that's where he went. When he had no place to stay or will to live for almost six months after their divorce was filled, that room became his shelter. And as thankful as he was and would always be for Niall for being a best friend when he needed one the most, that room, that house even, was still haunted to him.

Y/N noticed his sudden mood change, "Hey..."

"I'm fine... I just need some fresh air," he assured her. She nodded, and was ready to walk outside with him until he gestured her to wait for him there. She frowned, but just watched as he opened the front-door and disappeared.

Out in the night, Harry forced himself to take a deep breath, feeling the air escaping his lugs as he was finding it harder to breath. The memories he had been hiding in the back of his mind for so long were starting to make a comeback, reminding him how heartbroken he once felt. The past was feeling so overwhelming so out of the blue, his eyes started getting watery, and soon he was letting all his pain and frustration out in the form of tears. They ran down his cheeks desperately, wetting his face, and even though he was alone and no one could see or hear him in that state, he hid his face between his hands, using them to cushion his sobs.

He didn’t know how long he had been there for when he heard Y/N calling his name.

"Harry?"

He quickly passed his hands over his face, cleaning his wet cheeks with the back of them. He readjusted his clothes and took a deep breath, wishing his cheeks weren’t as flushed as they usually got whenever he cried.

"What happened?," she cautiously approached him.

His back was to her, so she hugged him from behind, her hands resting over his stomach. He closed his eyes, feeling relieved to have her there. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he rested his hands over hers. They stayed there in silence for a few minutes, until Y/N broke it, once she realised he had no intention of talking to her about whatever made him feel that way.

She wanted to understand why he hadn’t opened up to her yet, but deep down she couldn’t. Thirteen months together and it seemed like she was pages ahead of him when it came to their relationship. She wondered right there and then if they would ever be on the same one.

"Last month was our one-year anniversary," she softly spoke, "By then, I had already introduced you to my family and my closest friends. You, on the other hand... I've been honest with you, Harry, I opened up to you in ways I didn’t to anyone before," she gulped. He knew well enough where her words were heading to. "I've got the feeling that...," she gulped again, unable to mouth her thoughts out, scared they might be true.

He closed his eyes, not knowing she did, too. He closed them because her words hurt him, unaware his lack of them pained her.

Y/N let out a rather quiet sigh, before unwrapping her arms and turning around to make her way back inside. She had the feeling she was slowly losing a battle, and was not so sure if she wanted to stay to pick up the rubble.

"I'll go grab my things and take a taxi home," she mumbled. Then, silence. The was the last straw.

He could feel her slowly slipping though his fingers only because he was afraid of letting her in completely. During their last months together she had included him in all her family and friends gatherings, showing him how serious she was about them both. Him, however, introduced her to his mum the week before, only because Anne decided to surprise her son in his London home, not knowing Y/N, her partner, would be there as well. His mum wasn’t even aware he was in a relationship.

Harry needed to get his act together, he knew that. He didn’t know how, however. He had posponed for so long talking about Rebecca, and his feelings, and the way he was afraid of letting someone else come into his life just because he wasn’t capable of losing someone he loved again..., he didn’t know where to start. So he just got inside Niall's house, and looked for Y/N.

He found her in a corner, thanking Niall for the invitation and saying goodbye to both him and Louis. Harry cautiously approached her from behind, resting his hand in her back as he lowered his head enough to say: "Don't call a taxi, I'll drive you to your place". His friends looked at them confused, a bit conflicted wether they wanted to know what was up with them or not at all. They chose to leave and let them fix it on their own.

Y/N shook her head, before turning around to face him, "I think we both need some time alone."

Harry scratched his nose, "No, we don't. We're fine together."

"We clearly aren’t if you don’t feel like you can trust me with whatever it is you aren’t telling me, Harry," she quickly retorted, in a pissed tone that soon turned into a hurt one. Her voice cracked by the end of the sentence, and she had to pinch hard the inside of her cheek to avoid her emotions to take over. She wanted him to confide in her the same way she did on him..., was that too much to ask? "Is it me? Am I the problem?," she continued, her eyes getting watery the more she stared at his, "Didn’t I show you you can count on me the same way I can count on you? I just... don't understand why you keep pushing me away."

"Come with me," he said, and grabbed her hand, walking them both out of the living room and up the stairs. His feet took him almost instantly to that room in particular, and as soon as he was in front of it, a knot grew in his stomach. But he pushed the uncomfortable thought away and opened the door, letting her in. When he shut the door behind him, he glued his back to it, before grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her to him, his arms wrapping her in a hug.

His eyes remained closed, unable to open them and see the four walls that brought so many bad memories to him. He thought he had already escaped them, but there they were, back on his mind.

He didn’t remember a time where he had been more miserable than that one, so talking about his divorce and how it made him feel wasn’t an easy task. He them pulled away enough to fix his eyes on her face, passing a hand through it to put some strands of hair behind her ear, "You know I divorced a couple of years ago, but you don't know why: my ex-wife cheated on me," he gulped, "I came home one day and she told me she had been sleeping around with her coworker and that that was the end of us. I hadn’t really felt so strong about someone until I met her, and I truly thought we were gonna be together forever. I... I loved her,” a small sigh escaped from his lips, "Once our marriage ended, I lost my mind. She took the house, so I came here to sleep. This was my room, and until then I don’t think I have ever cried so much in my life," a sad smile peeked enough through the corners of his mouth, "I know this conversation should have happened sooner, my darling, and I’m sorry. I guess I’ve kinda been taking things slower than usual between us because I don’t want you to get tired of me like my ex did. But she’s my past and you’re my present, and I promise to prove you so from now on.”

Y/N had been silently listening to him talk, and now that he had finished, she didn’t know what to say, so she tightened her grip around him as a response. Her face hid in the crook of his neck as she told him with her hold everything she couldn’t with her voice. Harry felt relieved for finally having opened up to her, and was glad to know she wasn’t going anywhere.

“I don’t want to keep you like a secret, neither I want you to feel like one,” he mumbled, “But I do want our relationship to feel special, so that’s why I’ve been taking my time to figure out where the right time to do what was.”

“So me meeting your mum wasn’t actually scheduled for another few months?,” she replied, graciously frowning at him.

He chuckled, playing along, “Something like that, yeah.”

“Jokes aside…, thanks for telling me this, H.”

He nodded, a small smile growing between his lips. He then pressed their lips together and kissed her, their tongues soon intensifying the kiss. “Do you still want me to take you to your place?”

“Not really. Can I still stay the night at yours?”

“I find the whole question pretty offensive, if you ask me,” he replied, pecking at her lips again, “Of course you can, love. In fact, I wouldn’t like you sleeping anywhere else tonight.”

#harry styles #short story #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles prompts #harry styles stories #harrystyles #hsgucci94 #hsgucci94 imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #hsgucci94 prompts #hsgucci94 stories #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #hs #harry styles au

219 notes · View notes

greazyfloz · 1 year

Text

Lovers & Strangers - Chapter 3

Later that day, I’m back at my house doing homework with my two roommates. My roommates are pretty chill. I meant Beth last years in one of my classes and she had an extra room open so I decided to join the as I thought rooming with someone I have class with would be good for me. I was totally wrong. She acts like my mother half the time. Like I want to party and she basically will tell be to get a life.

As I am sitting there doing my homework my phone rings. I look to see Ethan’s name light up my phone. I stand up and Beth and Roselyn, my other roommate, both roll there eyes as I answer and walk towards my room.

“Hey shouldn’t you be at Yost?” I say as the boys have a big semi-final game tonight against Ohio State

“Yeah, just about to leave, you still coming to the game?” he asks me.

“Wouldn’t miss it!”

“Are you going out after?” he asks me

“Yes, so if you are looking for a DD, it is not me” I say laughing into the phone

“No, I wasn’t, I’m not stupid Y/n. Was going to see if you wanted to come with us”

“You guys still going out if you lose?” I ask him “Well, we aren’t talking about losing” he says laughing making me laugh

“Yeah sure, I’ll let the girls know I’ll meet them wherever we end up”

“Okay great” He says, “Oh and Y/n?”

“Yes?” i say

“Why were you wearing Mark’s shirt this morning?”

“Eth, I seriously don’t even know! Ask him!”

“Alright, I gotta go” he says hanging up the phone after we exchange our goodbyes

I text Nicole letting her know that I would be over soon to get ready for the game together. We typically all hung out at Nicole’s as her and Khloe were roommates with a couple other girls. I quickly threw a bunch of stuff in a bag and headed out. My roommates ofcourse questioned be on my way out the door but I managed to leave without being pestered to much from them.

When I get to Nicole’s the drinks were already flowing. I take a cup before heading to her room to get dressed. I get dressed and I hear Savannah arrive. She soon makes her way up to the room and sits next to me at the mirror to finish our makeup. My phone dinged a couple times from Ethan, and Savannah questions me: “All the girls think you guys fuck, do you?” she asks me, and my jaw drops and my cheeks go bright red.

“Sav!” I say laughing

“I know he is your bestie, but like he is SOOOOOOO hot” she starts, “I mean no one would judge you, I would fuck him if he was my bestie” she says as I finish my makeup.

“You’re funny Sav” I say standing, “Now can we go take some pictures! I need to redeem myself on Instagram after last night” I say making her laugh. We both went downstairs and took a couple pictures before joining the pre-game inside. I make sure I get tipsy enough to be amped, but also not tipsy enough to be drunk.

We head to the arena and take our seats within the children of Yost. They whole game the team was on fire, well from where I was sitting. The guy beside me held a huge poster of Mark’s head, great I really can’t get away from this guy

The game ends and the team is officially going to the finals! We are all pumped from the win and the booze Cassidy snuck in Yost for us. The girls told me they heard the after party was at the local bar and I replied that I would meet them there as we said our goodbyes. I sat at my seat for a little bit and waited for Ethan to text me as I didn’t want to stand with all the parents smelling like booze.

When I finally get up to make my way down, I finally get a text from Ethan,

Ethan 💛 : Where are you?

Y/n: On my way

Ethan 💛 : Tunnel

I make it to the tunnel and see Ethan, standing with Mackie, and Mark. As I get closer to him I begin to speed up a little and jump up wrapping my arms around his neck. He arms his arms around me and spins around once putting me down on my feet, “Congratulations Eddy!!” I yell out and he shushes me a little laughing

“Thanks Y/n/n” he says still laughing at my tipsiness. I look at Mark and he is just staring down at Ethan’s hand on my hip. He realizes I see him and shuffles,

“Yeah, well let’s get going so you too can get a room” Mark awkwardly says.

When we get back to the sophomore house, we immediately start pre-gaming. I hung out with Ethan along with Rutger and Johnny who rode back here with Dylan and Luke to join the pre. “You are already drunk, aren’t you Y/n” Rutger laughs out in response to me completely forgetting the story I was telling them

“No, just ready to go to the bar” I say and they all laugh

“FIRST UBER IS HERE” Dylan yells out and I grab Ethan and push through the crowd

“Move” I say pushing someone out of the way as I continue pulling Ethan behind me. Ethan is laughing by the time we make it to the door, “What?” I ask

“You’re really eager to get there”

“I want to dance and my friends are there already” I reply

We made our way out to the car and there was only one seat left. Ethan hops in first and I sit on his lap. Beside us was Mark and at this point I was drunk enough to fight. “So Mark. How did I end up with your shirt on last night?” I ask making everyone choke a little laughing

“Because you couldn’t handle your liquor and as much as you love embarrassing yourself passing out of random couches, you were embarrassing Eddy” he says and I look at Ethan,

“I never said I was embarrassed, I didn’t even know you passed out” Ethan says then looks at Mark

“I was embarrassed and I don’t even like you” Mark starts then shakes his head, “Damn, just be grateful and move on”

“Move on? You stole my clothes!” I say and he looks back at me again

“I threw out your slutty shirt, and put your pants in the wash because you can’t handle your fucking liquor”

“Damn Mark! Why are you getting so he-”

“Leave it!” Ethan finally buts in and I roll my eyes. The rest of the car ride was silent. Poor Seamus and Gavin who sat in the other two seat in the uber were visibly uncomfortable.

When the uber arrived, I got out and walked into the bar without waiting for Ethan. I make my way though the crowd to find my friends. I find Khloe in the crowd and make my way over. She can tell immediately pissed off and nods her head towards the group. I nod and meet her over to the rest of the girls.

“Oh no, what’s wrong” Nicole asks

“You and Ethan are FUCKING?! And he ended things?!” a drunk Savannah speaks

“Jesus Savannah! No!” I yell at her and the whole group goes wide eyed staring at me, “I’m sorry, I’m just so sick of Ethan LETTING people be mean to me!” I say and then explain what happened.

“You sound like you need a drink!” Nicole says grabbing my wrist and pulling us to the bar, she looks up at the bartender and yells, “6 shots or jagerbombs please!”

“3 and 3?” I ask joking that we weren’t going to share with the rest of the girls

“No” she says as the bartender comes back with the shots, “1” she points and me “and 6” she says sliding the tray in front of me. I shrug my shoulders and take on after the other quickly, earning a bunch of cheers from people around us.

“Can we dance now?” I say and Nicole nods, bringing us to the dance area and motioning for the rest of the girls to join.

As we all danced grinding on each other I caught Mark staring across the room, he looked good. If he wasn’t such an asshole maybe I’d invite him to dance. I lift both my eyebrows at him before turning and heading to the bar for another drink. “4 shots of tequila” I say to the bartender and he leaves to go make my drinks

“Those better not be all for you” I hear Ethan say behind me grabbing my waist.

“They are” I say turning to look at him taking his hands off me

“Let’s go home, please” he drunkenly pleads

“Why? Are you horny Ed?” I ask as the shots get put on the bar table beside me. I take one back looking at him without making a face

“Yeah I am” he says reaching over grabbing one of my shots at the same time as I go back for a second and with swing it back at the same time. I look at him

“Ask Mark” I say to him, downing the last shot then walking back towards the girls but he grabs my wrist and pulls me towards him

“My uber is here, the boys are all still here. I know you’re going to get horny eventually, so you are either coming or your fucking yourself” he says making me instantly wet

“Maybe I’ll get someone else to fuck me” I say back to him and he shrugs his shoulders.

He leaves and I instantly regret not going because now I’m not only drunk but I’m fucking horny. I make my way over to my friends and we start dancing. A little after, I looked around to see if Ethan actually left or not, and made eye contact with Mark once again looking me up and down. I turn towards the crowd then feel someone’s palm rest against my back, I turn to see Mark. I am way too drunk to even fight with this man, so I pull him into dance with me, “this why you came over Estapa?” I say causing him to sway his hips with mine to the music. He nods a little as I put my arms on his shoulders. Mark sucks on lip then brings my hips into his. I turn in his arms and begin grinding against him. I feel him getting hard against my ass as it swings back and forth.

My ass rubbing up against his hard bulge is making me even more wet. The more I dance against him the wetter I get, so I turn to face him and we both had the same idea. Our lips smash into each other and we begin making out in front of everyone. I pull away quickly though and look around to see if anyone saw, luckily I don’t think anyone did. I look back at Mark and say. Mark pulls his phone out as I continue looking around then brings his hands back to my waist, “let’s get outta here” he whispers in my ear and I nod at him.

We hopped into the uber and Mark immediately attached his lips to my neck causing me to throw my head back. I reach down to his leg and start rubbing up and forth before making it to his bulge grabbing it softly as I massage him through his pants. His lips dettach from my neck so he can whisper out “fuck”. I turn my head and he looks down at me, “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t even be able to walk tomorrow” he says smashing his lips on my and we continue to makeout for the rest of the drive.

We arrive at the sophomore house, and get out of the uber. Still outside, Mark pulls me close again and begins making out with me again. “Jump” he says into the kiss and I obey as Mark catches me and lifts me as I wrap my legs around his waist. We continue making out as he opens the front door to the house, at this point I was too drunk and way too horny to care if we got caught by Ethan. Thankfully, the house was dark and everyone was either asleep or still out.

“Fuck, your sexy” Mark says after he puts me down on his bed. He walks back to the door closing then locking it. He checks his phone quick and then takes his shirt off. He turns to see me standing in front of his bed only in my bra and panties. He steps closer to me and I bend down and lick from his v-line and over his abs and chest. I continue up the middle of his neck and flicking it off his chin. I bite my bottom lip and begin kissing his neck as I reach down feeling the hard bulge growing in his pants. “How are you even harder than before?” I ask him smirking into his neck.

“Fucking slut” he moans out. I fall to my knees and kiss him through his pants, then look up to see his reaction. I kiss him again over his pants and I can see the sexual frustration take over. He pulls down on the waistband of his pant, and I help him by pulling them all the way down. I look back up to Mark

“You want to see me put your cock in my mouth?” I say massaging the bulge in his pants

“Fuck slut” he says again

“I can’t wait to feel you down my throat” I say before slowly pulling his briefs down

“Stop teasing” he says and I begin pumping him in my hand as I tilt my head under his shaft to take his balls in my mouth. I suck on his balls while I pump him until he gets impatient and starts thrusting his cock farthur in my hand causing his ball to fall out of my mouth, rubbing back and forth against my face, “Fuck! suck my cock like the little fucking slut you are!” Mark moans

I let go and tilt my head upwards and lick from the bottom to the tip of his cock then again twice more before sucking hard on his tip. “H-holy Fuck!” Mark groans as my tongue begins swirling around his tip. I begin rocking my head back and forth on his cock then taking it out and spitting on it to jerk him off fast. I enter him back in my mouth further than before and bobble my head.

I begin to slid him further and he grabs onto my hair pumping himself back and forth as my throat begins making gluck noises. I moan a little with the impact on his cock. “Oh you like that, does the little slut love having a cock pushed all the way down her throat” he says before jamming his cock as far as he can down my throat. I choke out and he releases his cock from my mouth.

I stand up and Mark pushes me back on the bed. He crawls on top of me and jams his ring and middle finger deep inside of me. “oH” I moan out and Mark’s lip attaches to mine. We begin making out rough and sloppy with each other as Mark pumps his fingers in and out of me. He begins to pump them faster and faster before he curls them. “I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum” I moan onto Mark’s lips and he pulls away and smirks at me

“How does this little slut taste?” he says taking his fingers out of my pussy and replacing them with his mouth, he sucks my clit for a bit before kissing down to my pussy and sticking his tongue inside flicking it. His hand rubs circles around my clit hard and fast making me whimper a little loud as I start to cum. Mark's tongue cleans the inside of me tasting the cum I squirt into his mouth. He pulls away and more cream oozes out of me.

Mark makes his way up to me pressing his lips back to mine, “You want my dick, you slut?” he asks and I nod, “then be fucking quiet, unless you want to be caught”

I bite my lip and nod and he climbs to his side table grabbing a condom and sliding it on. He leans in and grabs my tits hard causing me to throw my head back. He massages them hard then brings his mouth to one of my tits, sucking and nibbling on them as he slides his hard thick cock inside of me.

“H-holy” I moan out as Mark begins thrusting hard inside of me letting out a hard breath after every pump inside of me

“You like this dick” he says beginning to speed up, “huh, does the little slut love this dick?” he says again thrusting so hard I close my eyes and breath out small moans. “Open your eyes, I wanna watch you watch your slutty little pussy take all of this dick” he says slamming into me

“M-mark!” I finally moan out his name and he bites his lips as he hears his name escape my lips.

“Yeah thats it, whose big dick making you feel like this? Huh?” he says breathlessly as I watch the sweat roll down his chest

“M-mark” I moan, followed by “oh fuck”

I squeeze my vagina so it tightens around Mark's cock causing him to have to pump himself even faster and harder inside of my pussy. Mark lets out a breathy moan

“Yes, Y/n! Oh fuck!” he moans out as his thrusts begin to slow, I smirk as he calls me by my name instead of ‘slut’ for the first time, “I’m so fucking close! Oh fuck!” he moans out. I decide to tighten my pussy one more time earning a grunt from Mark, “Fuck Y/n!” he moans as he finishes cumming inside the condom. He pulls out and gets off the bed to throw it out. I stand up and take my clothes and run down the hall to the bathroom, to get changed enough to go to Ethan’s room.

I get changed and open Ethan’s door to see him sleeping, I get undressed and slide one of his t-shirts on and make my way under his covers. I turn so our backs are facing each other and drift off to sleep.

#mark estapa smut #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa #ethan edwards imagine #ethan edwards #umich hockey smut #umich blurbs #umich hockey imagine #umich imagine #umich hockey

127 notes · View notes

momobani · 2 years

Text

LOVE IS BLIND (or voluntarily shuts its eyes) - YANG JEONGIN

PART 1 OF THE CURIOUS LIVES OF THE SIGMA KAPPA ZETA - 12.5k

Fashiondesignmajor!Jeongin x fem!reader

Sum: you hadn’t heard of Versace or Armani, but you had heard of Yang Jeongin.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, mention of weed, mention of food, angst, fluff (not proportional to the angst tho sorry), no smut but a whole kith <3

Song rec: (although a little ironic) Versace on the floor - Bruno Mars

A/N: somewhat inspired by the TV series Sex Education, arguably one of the best N-flix shows, give it a watch if you’re old enough lol. As foretold, this may come under the umbrella of ‘idiots in love’, enjoy <3

Sometimes there are certain people you can never remember meeting for the first time. Were you in the same class? Did you catch the same bus that time? Was it a party? Did it matter?

You weren’t sure you cared about the answer to any of those questions as you counted the bills in your hand, the pad of your thumb grazing the paper with a satisfying shuffle sound. This right here is why you were involved with “Young Master Fennec”, or as you knew him, Yang Jeongin, in the first place.

Your cut was juicy despite you only being his secretary or assistant or whatever; you weren’t here for labels either. The red velvet curtain of the photo booth is pulled aside and Jeongin’s latest client walks out. You give the guy your best customer service smile as he exits.

“Come again!” You call loudly, giving him a wave. Judging by his outfit, he might become a regular.

Jeongin emerges from the adjacent, conjoined photo booth, putting the tiny voice modulator gadget in his jacket pocket. It was like a confession booth, he’d told you when you were picking locations for appointments. You had to confess it was a pretty smart idea.

You turn your attention to him. Jeongin is wearing grey jeans, the legs rolled strategically once, twice, and a white t-shirt underneath an emerald corduroy jacket. The tell tale signs of a fashionista were all in the details.

It screamed ‘campus model’ so you had no idea why he even bothered with the anonymity - people probably guessed it was him since he was one of the only people around here who knew the difference between dressing well and just buying expensive clothes. That’s and he was a member of one of the most well known frats on campus. Yeah, that might do wonders for his anonymity. Not.

“And that’s another one saved!” He grins, as you slide your headphones down to hear him. He insisted you kept those on while he was in meetings for the sake of client confidentiality. “How did we do?”

“A fat stack considering he paid you to trash talk his closet. Here,” You hand him a bunch of bills. “Thirty bucks.”

“Thankies, it’s nice doing business with you.” He accepts the money and shoves it in his other pocket. “And clearly the people know that Young Master Fennec is here to help them, that’s why they cough it up.” He adds cockily.

You sigh loudly. “Did you have to choose a fursona for an alias? You may as well just have called yourself Fantastic Mister Fox to the same effect.”

“Uh uh,” he sing songs. “Say that again and I’ll make it sixty-forty for me.” He threatens, the smile remaining. Jeongin liked to flaunt his generosity for leverage whenever you disagreed with him, your current fifty-fifty split always on the line.

“Alright, fine, do whatever you want. I’m just the admin, I know.” You check your wrist watch. “You’re going to be late for your five-thirty, Young Master, let’s get going.”

And so you left the mall basement, going up the escalators twice to reach the rooftop. There was a partial carpark and a cafe to the side of that. You left Jeongin at one end of the parking lot and called the client over the phone.

She was coming up the escalators when you met her, offering her a blindfold (a sleeping mask with a sheep design) as you reached the door leading to the rooftop.

“Seriously?” She asked. You nodded apologetically.

“Seriously.” You confirmed. You helped her put it on and held her arm, guiding her to where Jeongin was waiting. He skipped the voice modulator this time and just picked a voice impression to do. This time it was his grandma nagging voice.

You put on your headphones again, slipping one side off a fraction so you could listen to him. You had to admit it was one of your favourites.

Imagine paying to get lectured by a grandma about your terrible fashion choices whilst blindfolded on a rooftop. Then again, you weren’t going to judge because you were the one getting paid to help this person get schooled by some guy pretending to be a grandma on a rooftop.

Some things you just didn’t need to question. Like how the hell you even ended up doing this with Jeongin of all people.

Maybe it was all those parties.

You’d been headed to the bathroom when you found the door open and some guy trying to roll the sleeves of his flannel while looking in the mirror. You also noticed his hair was slightly damp, presumably with water. You thought you were drunk because surely no one needed a mirror to roll their damn sleeve, right? He told you he was just listening to Jeongin’s advice and apologised for holding up the bathroom. At the time a little bell rang in your head but you couldn’t picture who this Jeongin was.

That same night you met your friend Changbin around the beer pong table, offering him a beer. He had just tied his over shirt around his waist, leaving him in a tight black t-shirt that showed off his muscles. You asked him what he was doing instead of taking the can of beer in your extended hand.

He told you Jeongin said he should wear it like that if he wanted to reel in that hook-up of his, some soccer chick who was definitely looking in your direction. You nodded and left after handing him the beer. You didn’t want to disturb your friend’s odd mating ritual or whatever was going on there.

Those instances a couple months ago revolved around this Jeongin dude and both had occurred in the same place.

The Sigma Kappa Zeta house.

At the time, you imagined he was either in the frat or a friend of theirs. Whatever, so he was just some guy not minding his business.

Except it wasn’t whatever when you were at the next SKZ frat party.

You ran into some girl crying on the staircase because her dress was ripped. Your braincells shuddered, quaking in their boots. What do you do in that situation? Was that really a problem, you asked her. The rip wasn’t obvious or giant. She just wailed harder so you gave her your cardigan to cover it up.

An hour later you got dragged away from your comfy spot on the couch chatting with Changbin and the previously aforementioned soccer chick to a hallway. The girl with the ripped dressed pointed at you.

“It was her!” She said. The guy standing next to her had his arms crossed, his pronounced biceps completely contrasting with his pout while he stared you down. His glare was accusatory and you were suddenly annoyed. Then you saw your cardigan in one of his hands.

“So it was you.” He said, his voice serious. He unfolded his arms, holding the cardigan up to you. “Do you know what this is?” He asked. Was he trying to make a joke or something?

“Um,” you blinked. “My cardigan?”

“Cream!” He replied dramatically. You had no idea what was going on. The colour of your cardigan was cream but that’s where he lost you.

“What about it?” You shrugged. He had the audacity to look offended.

“You do not put cream over fuscia! Oh my god! Take it!” He thrust the cardigan to you. Then he turned to the girl with the fuscia (you assumed) dress. “Okay listen, we can salvage this. All I need is a pair of scissors and a belt. Come with me.”

You were too stunned to speak. Had you had too much tequila already?

All you knew was that your legs carried you forward, following the fuscia up the stairs. You leaned on the doorframe and watched as the guy worked fashion wonders. He made several incisions on the dress, carefully shaping them while the girl just stood still, in shock. Then he pulled a thin belt off the dresser to his left and threaded it through the cutouts.

The girl gasped in amazement, her jaw falling open. She screamed happily and thanked him several times before scampering off to rejoin the party.

You thought you dreamt it. Every part of that incident seemed bizarre to you, so it really would be possible for it have been some kind of lime induced fever dream or something.

And that’s how you met Jeongin. Maybe. You think. It’s a little blurry in your head. You felt his face was somewhat familiar so maybe you had seen him before.

After being hung over for a day or two, you woke up with the the brilliant idea; why didn’t he do this regularly? And get paid for it? The inspiration originated in your bank account, the realisation that you’d need a lot more money for law school soon. You offered to be his manager, every star needed one, right?

His eyes sparkled when you called him a star. You had him hooked.

Another day, another hopeless baby bird that can’t figure out what to wear.

You’re listening to music while Jeongin is with a client at the other end of the cafe booths. They’re sitting back to back and talking, while you sit three booths down and facing the client. You don’t look at her as you sip on your drink, you’d rather not make that awkward eye contact.

You were the business’s face, the first and last point of contact, managing the schedule, the finances and the clients, not the advice giver. It wasn’t that taxing to fit into your timetable and besides, the money you made was completely worth it. You made more than minimum wage in an hour and you didn’t do any hard labour.

The fashion clinic was perfect because you made money while Jeongin got to do one of his favourite things; telling people what to do, well he calls it ‘helping’ but to you it was the same difference.

You’d get clients to send in photos of things they wore, pieces in their closets and give them to Jeongin to assess before each consultation. There he would talk to them about how to use those clothes and when. The process made sense to you even if you didn’t understand a thing about fashion. So you just went along with it.

A couple minutes later the client smiles at you and leaves, making sure not to look at Jeongin, mimicking how you imagined Orpheus walked out of the Underworld without looking back. You smile back, sliding down your headphones as Jeongin slides into the opposite seat of your booth with his iced Americano.

“Done and done. How much did she pay?” He asks, his smiling eyes crinkling in curiosity.

You had both agreed to work on an semi-open tariff basis, meaning that there was a minimum price (twenty bucks) and clients were free to add more if they wished. Depending on the client’s wish, you negotiated raising the price for the depth and scale of the advice Jeongin was giving, like the other day, the guy in the photo booth wanted a full closet evaluation. So he paid for it.

“Forty in total. Twenty for you, Young Master.” You say as you slide the bills across the table.

“You know, I can tell you’re calling me that sarcastically.” He pouts as he pockets the money. Today he’s wearing a white button up and beige sweater vest with black slacks, not missing matching silver chains on his wrist and around his neck that accented the veins protruding from each. Not that you were paying attention, of course.

“What, you actually expect me not to clown you? Pfft.” You sip on your drink.

“I don’t expect anything actually, just don’t call me by my name in public. I have to keep my air of mystery.” He says pointedly, looking around the empty floor of the cafe with paranoia.

“Alright, Jeongin.” You reply, containing a smirk.

“You did that on purpose, YN.” He narrows his eyes slightly but you can tell he’s not annoyed. One corner of your mouth turns up despite your efforts.

“How’s your saving going anyway?” He asks after a moment. You weren’t expecting him to care much about why you’d suggested this business, but he did occasionally ask you how you were managing with money.

Whilst Jeongin was a thriving fashion design major, you were a struggling prelaw major, knowing that this was only the first level of Hell you had to endure. You knew you better start saving money from now so you could manage things when you actually started law school and you’d been very transparent about it when you had made your business proposal to Jeongin.

“Not bad, I’m being careful and putting most of it aside, it’s better than getting a job too since I have time to study.”

“Oh yeah, I forget that some people are actually here to learn something.” Jeongin muses, suddenly deep in thought.

“At least you’re self-aware.” You say, eyebrows quirking.

“Hey, only people in our programme can make fun of it, don’t look down on us. We do learn stuff.” He berates you immediately. You must have hit a nerve. “Just ‘cause you’re a masochist doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t want to have fun in our degrees.”

“‘Fun’ and ‘degree’ in same sentence just sounds absurd to me, but you do you, I guess.”

“It’s kind of good though, when I become a world famous designer, I’ll need legal representation so at least I know someone I can trust.” He says reassuringly. It’s so typical to get comments from everyone asking if you can be their lawyer or wanting free legal advice from you when they found out you were going to law school. You weren’t even there yet for fuck’s sake! What if you failed to become a lawyer?

“Ah yes, Young Master, I’m sure you won’t forget about the little people that you knew along the way.” You roll your eyes.

“Of course not, now let us go, for the fashion peasants of this world need me!” He practically giggles, his eyes sparkling in the LED lights of the cafe. You humour him, nodding and getting up. There was never a day you were bored when you were with Jeongin.

It’s somewhere around midnight and your fifth shot of tequila that you and Changbin are laughing at something soccer chick said, your little group becoming a regular at the kitchen island every weekend at the SKZ house. You’d sent Jeongin to make a couple of rounds whilst he was still one shot in and therefore mostly sober, pointing out clients that might be waiting at particular spots around the house.

The music’s loud, the bass thumping from the living room through some solid looking speakers. There was an aux cord with a whole laptop attached to it, the frat’s president Chan providing most of the music but taking turns with some of the other guys in the house while he ran around making sure everyone was being safe. (You swore he was tallying each shot that travelled from your cup to your mouth).

Jeongin had told you that Chan wasn’t that uptight but judging by the way he locked his actual laptop in a safe, he may be at least stressed in a slightly control freaky way, though you couldn’t fault him since he practically parented this whole frat.

You sat on the counter top, pouring out drinks for the three of you, only half listening to the chatter around you and the music from across the hall. You spot Felix, one of the other Sigma Kappa Zeta guys, coming towards your group and you instinctively pull out another paper cup from the stack and pour another drink out, finishing the bottle to the last drop.

“Hey, you guys,” he directs a sweet thousand watt smile at you. “Did you try the weed brownies yet? I made them fresh today after class.” He opens the Tupperware in his hands, offering it to you. You’re tempted but ultimately pass and so do Changbin and his date. (You had no idea what their deal was, if she was his date or not, but they were constantly together at parties nowadays.)

You offer Felix the drink and he takes it with a quick ‘thanks’ before disappearing to deliver more brownies, stopping by people, Boy Scout style. Your semi-drunk self chuckles at his enthusiasm and you take another sip to finish your cup.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” You tell your friends and hop off the counter in search of the bathroom. They acknowledge your comment but are absorbed in their own world.

As you walk around the house, you keep an eye and ear open for Jeongin, to see if he was with clients or just partying. You don’t spot him so you make your way to your destination. There’s only a slight queue outside and you lean against the wall in case you sway.

You’re at a comfortable buzz-like tipsiness but not properly drunk at this point in the night. You tended not to get too drunk anyway, partially because your tolerance was high but also because you didn’t trust anyone at these parties to put yourself in a vulnerable position like that. Simply, you were a cynic and believed the worst could happen.

Your bathroom trip sobers you up a tad and you head back to the kitchen.

On your way, you hear Jeongin’s voice through all the static of other noise. You’d listened to him talking so much that you could recognise his voice anywhere. You stop and look around, turning in the same spot as if you’re trying to echo locate him. You hear him once more and find the general direction of his voice then follow it. It’s coming from a room down the hall and your legs carry you there.

The door is wide open and Jeongin is sitting down presumably with a client. You hang back not to disturb them and observe from a distance. He’s sitting with a sketchbook, a pencil in his hand, focusing on the page in front of him. You can’t see what he’s drawing but you can see how focused he is. The client is talking about something and Jeongin is nodding and sketching at the same time.

It strikes you how professional he looks even though he’s just some guy giving advice at a party. You feel a faint smile of admiration make its way to your lips. He’s completely in his element and you can feel the gears in his brain turning from here. You had to admit he was pretty cool when he did that. But you would only say that in your current tipsy state, of course.

After a moment, you leave, wandering through the sea of party people again back to the kitchen.

You can hear Changbin’s loud and drunk voice from a few steps away. But you stop short before turning into the kitchen as you overhear the conversation.

“…I can’t believe he won’t tell YN he likes her,” you hear him slur. “My little brother is such a coward. The kid just needs to do it. Like-” you hear the sound of his hand slapping the countertop. “Ripping off a bandaid.”

The sound of your name rings out to you, the sound barely just registering in the cavities of your head. His little brother? Is he talking about Jeongin? Must be, though you were aware Changbin was one of the older members of the frat since he’d taken a gap year so potentially it could be any of the younger guys. You didn’t really know all of them that well though.

But what soccer chick says in return confirms it for you.

“Jeongin seems like the shy type, let him be, he’ll do it when he feels ready. Now let’s go, I have practice in the morning.”

What were they talking about? It was absurd.

Yang Jeongin? Like you? That’s the dumbest thing you’d ever heard, the most prolifically idiotic statement of this century and last. There was no way. They’re bullshitting.

The two of you were just business partners, friends if you stretched, which you would admit, though your definition of friendship was a little rough around the edges.

Surely you would have noticed if Jeongin was acting like he liked you? To be fair he’d always been fairly nice but he’s nice to everyone, except for the sassy quips that escape his mouth every once in a while but even those aren’t supposed to be mean.

To you, being nice didn’t equate to liking someone. Why would it, really? You can be nice to anyone and everyone for no reason.

You decide to ignore it for now. This doesn’t matter, it’s not like he’s said anything so you’ll operate on the basis that you never heard this.

You can hear footsteps coming closer to the kitchen door and you scramble to get back up the hallway so your friends don’t see that you’d heard anything. Even if you had, you’d tell Changbin’s drunk ass not to yell about it so loudly next time.

You stumble backwards and end up accidentally colliding into someone’s back. You whip around startled, and the apologies start to tumble out of you. You see it was Seungmin and his girlfriend and they both look more startled than you and you worry that you might have ruined their conversation.

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” She says to you, smiling artificially, which made you think it was really not okay but you nod politely, say sorry again and scram.

You look back just to see Changbin and plus one leave, not even glancing back.

After about a half hour, you leave the party, not finding the overwhelmingly crazy environment fun any more. You can’t find Jeongin anywhere to say goodbye. You walk home alone, tugging your jacket closer to your frame, mulling over what you’d heard.

Your curiosity was getting the best of you; was it true? Could it be? No one had liked you before, at least to your knowledge.

If he did say something, would you reciprocate? You weren’t sure. You enjoyed being in Jeongin’s company, finding it easy to get along with him but it was probably because you had something to be working on, a clear cut goal of what you needed to achieve through your business relationship.

True that at first you were wary of him after the cardigan incident, he seemed like a wild fox to you, unpredictable and overly passionate but as you got to know him, you adjusted to his volume or he adjusted his volume for you, and you came to respect his passion for what he wanted to do.

Sure you liked him as a friend but could it ever develop into romantic feelings? You hadn’t ever bothered exploring romantic feelings before, your crushes being fleeting and shallow enough to be forgotten after a little while, so much so that none of them really stuck. You’d never prioritised having a boyfriend before, thinking that you had too much on your plate to attempt dating. It might have made you numb to the idea over all this time and perhaps you still were numb to it.

By the time you got home to find your two roommates passed out on the couch, drunk snacked and washed up, you’re still thinking about the same thing. You almost feel silly for the impact this information is having on you. Well, alleged information, you didn’t have solid proof.

Proof.

That’s it!

You needed to get evidence. For that you’d need to observe Jeongin and give it some time to see if his behaviour chalked up to what Changbin said. The cogs in your brain started turning already…

You had a couple of classes, and consequently a couple of headaches as the professors droned on about the exact same stuff that you read in the textbook. You went back home and ate lunch, scheming your plan into existence.

Yesterday you’d booked two appointments at the mall for Jeongin, both on the rooftop instead of the photo booth since the weather was nicer than usual.

You weren’t even vaguely self-conscious, or not yet, about your plan since you had nothing to lose; it’s not like anyone will actually care, sure they might stare at you in the street but embarrassment was temporary and you could survive it while you focused on the big picture - figuring out if Jeongin did in fact have any feelings for you.

So you commenced the plan.

You put on the cuntiest, most horrifically abysmal combination of hot pink crop top and leopard print high waisted lounge pants you could find, a blue Hawaiian shirt, and topped it all off with a pair of crocs that sported a flame design, as if your feet were one of those toy Hot Wheels. (How some of those had ended up in your possession was a long and arduous tale that you did not wish to remember but one part involved making bets and let’s just say you were not a gambler).

You looked in the mirror and decided you belonged in the circus or some kind of institution. In other words, it was perfect. Maybe all those themed frat parties were not so dumb after all - your closet had become a wonderland after each one.

You make your way out, almost killing one of your roommates by making her choke on her orange juice as you walked through the living room.

“YN, what are you we-” you hear but you’re already out the door, taking long strides ahead before you could be dissuaded from this ridiculous idea.

You weighed up whether you wanted to walk or take the bus, but you end up on the bus since you could just sit at the back and nobody would look at you. Not that you cared, of course. You just wanted for the ground to swallow you up, no big deal.

(Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.)

Jeongin is waiting for you on the rooftop as you walk up behind him.

“Hey.” you say, anticipating his reaction.

“Hi.” He glances at you but does a double take, his eyes roaming over your outfit. You could swear his eyes bugged out slightly but he turns back to the view. “Is the client here?” He doesn’t mention anything, and you’re not sure if it’s the desired effect or what this result even tells you.

No comment at all? No judging side-eye or even a sassy head swivel from him. What did that mean?

This is why you could never be a science major of any sort. You’d bet in your hypothesis that if someone did what you’re doing, he would not hesitate to critique them but you hadn’t really thought about how to gauge his reaction if the outcome was otherwise. Does this mean he doesn’t care about what you wear or about you? Or both?

It honestly felt like both. He didn’t care enough about you to care about what you wore. It made you feel less important than a client. Ouch.

You’d never cared that much about what you wore even though you know it was something people used to express themselves, sure it was great if you wanted to do that but it wasn’t you personally, you just wore what was comfortable and practical and didn’t look horrific on you. Yet, suddenly you knew you were expressing something on purpose and you wanted a reaction.

You didn’t get one. It was cruelly anti-climactic.

Were you disappointed? If you could call it that.

You’d just have to do it again and more often and see if he says anything. You wanted to test what he really thought of you, despite not knowing if it was the right way to test it. It’s not a conversational thing you felt you could bring up. You weren’t blunt enough to right out confront him about what you’d heard from Changbin. It might even cause tension between the two of them, so better do things your way.

Your phone rang and you hurried to go pick up the three forty five client.

After the appointment, which lasted a grand total of five minutes, a new record of speed for whatever reason, you and Jeongin descend the escalators again. You’re happy to go home already since you’re starting to remember to be self-conscious around other people but Jeongin insists you stop by a claw machine game he spotted on the way down.

“You’re not a kid, you can go alone.” You tell him. Jeongin’s mouth forms a pout and you know you’re about to be convinced to stay.

“Yeah, but it’s no fun if you go alone. Besides, it’s weird if it’s just me.” He says. “I’m pretty good at it anyway, it won’t take long.” He adds more cheerfully. There’s a curious part of you that decides to take him up on his word, but you don’t expect anything.

You take that back.

‘Won’t take long’ was an understatement. Jeongin had been right. He was actually good at this.

You’d always thought that claw machines were designed to be a con and were supposed to empty your pockets in the process of frustrating you. But this is the first time you witnessed someone winning with your own eyes.

He managed to win a fluffy ram plushie within five minutes flat. It was basically the shape of a loaf of bread but with a cute face and some curvy horns on either side of its head. Jeongin pulled it out of the little door at your knees and held it up victoriously.

“See!” He grins, admiring his handy work. “Give it a name.”

“I don’t know,” you shake your head, looking at the plushie sceptically. You were waiting for it to make an impression on you. “Hmm, it just looks like a ‘Ramie’ to me but that somehow feels unoriginal.” You conclude. Jeongin turns it around and stares at it too.

“Eh, you might be right.” He agrees. You look at him expectantly, anticipating something brilliant from the creator of fursonas himself. “He’s a Ramie.” Jeongin confirms. You scoff at his cop out.

“You can dish it but you can’t take it, can you?” You roll your eyes. “Can we go now?” You cross your arms, starting to feel impatient.

Every time a kid with their parents or a gaggle of kids walked past, ogling at you, you felt a shred of your dignity wither away like the petal of a flower falling off. You also hated standing there in fucking crocs; it felt like a trespass against your soul.

“Yes, we can. Here.” Jeongin thrusts Ramie at you and you almost drop him in surprise.

“Why are you giving it to me?” You ask, getting a steady hold on the fluff after a moment. Jeongin glances over his shoulder at you with an unmistakable smirk.

“I can always win another one.” He shrugs and walks away.

You stare after him, speechless, your haste to leave forgotten. When did Jeongin get cool?

As your experiment carried on, you varied dressing crazily and dressing what was normally to you, Jeongin not batting an eyelid at either. You were starting to suspect maybe Changbin had been wrong; maybe what he’d said was a drunken, speculative statement and didn’t hold up against sober reality.

You were so tempted to up it to even more extreme looks but you still valued your dignity and you also couldn’t keep asking to borrow your roommates clothes to mix and match with yours. It was kind of exhausting thinking of new things too.

(You’d really put in a lot of effort, sometimes matching a brown jumper with a silver skirt, or a button up with joggers when you felt a little lazy, once going as far as thrifting to find a purple jacket that would be an eyesore with your azure tank top. It worked, though you weren’t sure you should be proud of that.)

You were headed to another appointment with Jeongin, this time giving a special consultation to the younger sibling of your client for her prom outfit. Naturally you bent your practice a little and went to the dress shop to meet the client. You’d cut the anonymity too, making sure the kid wasn’t going to be freaked out or anything.

Today you’d dressed with inspiration (read: a failed cosplay) from the classic Mean Girls; you’d taken to watching movies to find outfit ideas. After a marathon of Legally Blonde, 10 Things I Hate About You, and Clueless, you’d picked up a few things, specifically picking out clothing items that would certainly and definitely clash when part of the same outfit.

You’d found a pink polo similar to the one Cady borrows from Damian, some “army pants” (just khaki green cargo pants), and “flip flops” (well Birkenstocks that you had no idea were called that until recently, curtesy of the fashion guru himself) paired with florescent Grinch green socks. You felt as if you had really transcended your deliberate and humble experimentalist beginnings to morph into a fashion menace. You felt powerful, unhinged and unstoppable.

You were so set on pushing Jeongin to snap, it didn’t even feel like your original experiment’s purpose any more, you just wanted him to do something. It didn’t even have to be anything big, just like an eye roll or something.

You enter the dress boutique and call your client. He picks up on the first ring and tells you that they’re waiting on the second floor. You go up and meet them, a brother and little sister looking at dresses that were lined up on racks positioned around the room. You feel a pang of endearment at the scene.

After clarifying the budget for the dress, the brother and you take a seat on one of the tiny couches across the dressing rooms and wait for a mini-fashion show. You’re not surprised when the girl comes out in dresses that are both beautiful singularly but also perfectly suited to her energy, whether it was the right colour, or style or both, Jeongin had picked wisely. She looked so happy trying them on as you all told her how pretty she looked.

For a moment you were glad you’d started this clinic other than the money it paid. Maybe this is what Jeongin found rewarding in it - helping people feel more confident about themselves and have fun expressing themselves. Had you misunderstood what you’d been doing all this time?

You looked over at Jeongin, who sat on a stool a few meters away from you, focused on looking through photos the girl had given him to look at to understand her style further and see a variety of colours on her so he could gauge what else to try.

He seemed so absorbed, his broad shoulders tensed as he hunched over his phone. Today he wore a flannel and t-shirt combo and black jeans, paired with a small baseball cap, possibly one of the most generic outfits you’d ever seen him wear. Must be his attempt of looking as non-threatening as possible.

You watched as he tilted his head in thought, pursing his lips as he came to some sort of conclusion. The girl came out in yet another dress, a lovely lilac piece that had a high low hem, reaching just above the floor, and a boxed neckline matched with some short sleeves. It was possibly the best one so far and she was positively beaming.

The brother gasped next to you when he saw his kid sister and you glanced at him to see him smiling affectionately. This might be the winner.

Except Jeongin takes absolute pride in his work and is very thorough so he asked her to try on a few more before making the decision, thus extending your live viewing of Say Yes To The Dress. You sighed and leaned back to wait for the next series of dresses. You wondered what you would have worn if you’d gone to prom.

While you wait, you decide to have a little wander to stretch your legs and see if anything stands out to you in case Jeongin had missed it.

You walk along a line of racks, trailing your eyes over each dress. A deep bordeaux piece catches your attention and you pull it out of the pile gently, holding up the hanger. It doesn’t exactly scream ‘prom’ but it’s lovely nonetheless. It’s a spaghetti strap almost floor length number, with a slit and some tiny embroidered flower chains along the bodice. You had to admit it was gorgeous.

“That would look great on you.” You jump out of your skin as Jeongin sneaks up behind you, his voice quiet but sincere as he stands a little too close to you. Your pulse is thundering in your ears. Why was he here thinking about what you’d look like? That wasn’t the task you were getting paid for.

“Jeez, you move like a Tesla.” You complain. You collect yourself for a moment, not used to him being in this close proximity. “It doesn’t matter how it’ll look on me, give it to your client to try, she might like it.” You hand the dress to Jeongin adamantly. You don’t wait for him to respond before you make your way back to the couch.

You try and forget whatever the hell that was, fighting the blood rushing to your cheeks and focusing on the myriad of dresses that come next.

Eventually they narrow it down to the lilac number, a dark sapphire strapless cocktail dress and surprisingly the bordeaux dress that you’d chosen. In the end the lilac wins, mostly based on happiness levels and as it should, you think.

The brother starts to pay you while the girl is getting changed back to her normal clothes. You look over his shoulder to see that Jeongin is busy talking to a staff member. The client wants to give you sixty bucks but you tell him you’ll give him a fifty percent discount since they had to buy the dress too so he gives you thirty.

“Thanks for making my sister happy you guys, I appreciate it.” He says as they part ways with you after buying the dress. You smile genuinely and nod. Jeongin is also incredibly happy, his eyes shinning and crinkling with his grin.

“No problem. You know where to find us if you need anything. Have a good time!” He says brightly. The girl thanks you again and they set off.

“Here’s your cut.” You say as you hand him the thirty when you step out of the shop. You don’t know what possessed you to do it, but it felt good, a tiny sprout of serotonin filling your system.

“Thanks.” He accepts the money, his fingers brushing yours briefly. You ignore the way it sets alarm bells off in your head and retract your hand quickly.

“So I’ll see you on Thursday?” You look up at him. “You have an early slot in the library, 11:45, okay?”

“Sure, do you want me to walk you home?” Jeongin asks. It had been a couple of hours since you’d been in the shop and it was getting dark outside already. He’d never asked you before and while you appreciated the gesture, you couldn’t wait to get away fast enough and you’re not even sure why.

“No, no, it’s alright, I’m catching the bus anyway. See you, Jeongin.” And you speed down the street, only realising you’re walking in the totally wrong direction to where your stop was. You end up going to a cafe on your way to get something to drink since you were really parched.

There’s a quiet radio playing in the background as you wait for your order. You recognise the song but it takes you a few seconds to identify it. You stand listening for a moment, utterly still and use it to calm down. What was that at the shop? He shouldn’t sneak up on you like that, it made your heart race and you didn’t like it.

It was unnerving.

You watch as the wind moves the clouds over the horizon, lifting the wisps of white rapidly through the air as the sun shone through their cover. You’re on the library rooftop, standing some distance away from Jeongin’s consultation, contemplating what to have for dinner later. You had already figured out lunch so you may as well move on.

You clearly weren’t going anywhere soon.

You were a little torn between chicken or ramen. You might see what your roommates were up to and see what they wanted or you could just keep debating it alone since you were bored.

This appointment was taking a little while since the client kept flirting with Jeongin. Initially you had had your headphones on, minding your business but it was sort of hard to miss the forced giggle that pierced through your music.

You thought it odd; what could Jeongin have possibly said that was that funny? Like okay he was funny but did it really make her squeal like that? Jeez, it was so loud, you thought your ear drum might burst. Regardless, you slid one side of your headphones to the side and listened, not out of curiosity but out of suspicion.

The girl was trying the most but Jeongin was as awkward as ever.

“So do you think I should wear outfits with more cleavage or should I try to show off my long legs more?” She asked, for a moment it sounded like a genuine question but then she kept sweeping her hands over her short clad thighs. You had to salute her strategy, it was pretty on the nose but unfortunately Jeongin’s nose was buried in the notes he’d made before the meeting. Regardless, something about the situation bothered you.

“Do whatever you want, I’m just here to tell you what clothes go well together.” The reply was as oblivious as ever. You bit back a laugh. Ah, that’s more like it, that’s the Jeongin you know. He’s not smooth, she’s just into him. That was hilarious in itself since she was wearing the damn blindfold and could only hear his voice.

To be fair to the girl, Jeongin had skipped the voice modulator again and instead opted to deepen his voice whilst throwing in the occasional southern dialect phrase in, and that might seem hot to some people if you were into it. Not that you were, of course.

You forced yourself to cover your ear properly again. You didn’t want to hear any more of it.

You hear at least four more songs before the appointment finishes and you send your client off. She gave you fifty in total. You split the money between you and Jeongin does a double take.

“Wow, amazing. I must give really great advice.” He grins to himself. The two of you are standing at the railing, looking out to the skyline of campus. It seemed so vast from here, this little bubble of your university.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” You mutter, thinking she was probably had other intentions but you let it slide.

“What? Did you say something?” He tilts his head at you, the way animals do.

“Nothing, at the risk of inflating your ego, you do actually give good advice.” You look away as you say it, somehow feeling awkward yourself. You meant it but you weren’t exactly the type to say stuff like this out of nowhere, so you tried to be as nonchalant as you could.

You were reserved, especially if you thought highly of someone. Did you think highly of Jeongin? Must be so if you were stingy with praise. That and something about his shining confidence made you want to humble and level him a little; you didn’t want him to spiral out of control and become an asshole.

“Wow! Was that a compliment? Haven’t heard one from you, like ever?” He laughs.

“Don’t make me take it back, Young Master.” You warn jokingly, feeling his eyes fall on you. You keep your gaze on the horizon, tracing the skyline with your eyes.

“No, no don’t! It’s just that you don’t say stuff like that usually, it was refreshing. And besides, who doesn’t love being told they’re awesome?” He smirks happily.

“I never said you were awesome.” You hum, turning to leave. It was getting a little gloomy outside, the sky filling with darker clouds; the weather was giving you whiplash.

“But I know it’s what you meant!” He calls out after you then scrambles to catch up. You allow yourself a smile at his confidence, or was it blind optimism?

You descend to the ground floor and exit. Jeongin follows after you like a stray puppy, his long stride easily making the distance that separated the two of you.

At the bus stop, there are a couple of other people, seemingly from your university. Two girls who side-eye you and start whispering amongst themselves, as if you weren’t standing like four feet away. You knew what they were talking about, your outfit consisting of a jean skirt and a purple puffer vest over a green button up.

You felt a little annoyed whilst they giggled, the whole thing giving you flashbacks to high school where for some reason people wouldn’t mind their own damn business. Who ever said that college or life were any different? You wished the bus would come faster.

Jeongin said nothing.

“You doing anything for spring break?” He asks finally as you wait. The question takes you by surprise; was he looking for work during vacation time?

“Nothing, but listen, you should just use it as a holiday, I don’t think we should have any appointments.” You tell him.

“That’s not why I was asking. I agree though, I don’t feel like working over the break.”

“Oh, okay. Then what is it?”

“We’re throwing a bunch of parties, the one next Saturday is going to be a little fancier so dress nice, okay?” He informs you. You maintain a poker face as the light bulb goes off in your brain. You just couldn’t help doing stupid things could you?

“Aha, sure, I’ll see you there.” You smile.

Were you going overboard? Probably. Were you going to stop your ridiculous mission? No, since you were very much determined to break him. You felt like now you were testing your friendship more than anything else.

Friends looked out for each other if something was off about them, right?

You were kinda over the experiment and hated most of the stuff you wore but it was one of those things like impulsively cutting your hair, or splashing into puddles even though you knew your shoes were going to be fucked when you did.

You knew the consequences objectively, but you did it anyway.

It’s not on your bingo cards when you walk into the Sigma Kappa Zeta house and find every other party goer is wearing super random and clashing outfits, as if they decided as a collective to get dressed in the dark.

What the fuck was happening?

Jeongin told you to ‘dress nice’, so naturally you did the opposite, dressing in the most outrageous pieces of clothing you had. You were wearing a crop top with a cartoon drawing of a monkey which was made with some felt fur fabric and a pair of lounge pants covered in silver sequences, which made you look like a walking disco ball if you walked past a light.

Despite that, you basically blended in. How had you not heard this was a themed party? (Probably because you didn’t have a lot of friends.) And in that case, what was the theme? YN’s silly wardrobe? Fashion disaster?

You walk around to see if you can find any of the SKZs to tell you what you were seeing and end up in the kitchen when you don’t find anyone. You stand at the counter, trying to get a grip. Was Jeongin on to you?

Regardless, it opened your eyes. You’ve been ridiculous this whole time, you and your silly little outfits and playing dress up for no reason.

“You didn’t like it?” You jump at Jeongin’s voice behind you. You whip around to him and your eyes bug out. He’s wearing a black and white spotted button up, black leather pants and a massive fur coat over the top of it all. A pair of sunglasses adorns his face, the glass faded black so you can’t see his eyes.

“Like what? Jeongin, what is all this?” You demand. He hums in thought for a moment.

“A concession? A truce? Whichever you prefer.” He shrugs.

“What?”

“I admit and acknowledge your fashion choices, now for the love of Gucci, please stop being a menace to society and just be you, okay?” He smiles. You look at him blankly.

Was he talking about your experiment? Did he know what about that? You hadn’t told anyone why you were doing it so how on Earth would he know?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You decide to play dumb.

“I think the monkey on your shirt does though.” He scrunches his nose at it. “The YN I know would only ever wear that ironically or not at all.”

“Then you don’t know me very well.” You counter, starting to feel your fight or flight response kick in.

“I think you’d be surprised how well I do know you. Enough to know you’ve been up to something.” He crosses his arms. “Now, why is it that you continue to commit crimes against fashion?”

“What kind of question is that? I’m just wearing whatever I want.” You argue but it sounds unconvincing even to your own ears.

“We both know that’s not true, just tell me what’s going on.” He continues to try and coax it out of you, leaning on the counter like you are. Now that you’re faced with the confrontation, you suddenly don’t know what to do.

“Fine.” You say, your heart thundering in your chest. “I just wanted to get your attention. I wanted you to say something, anything. But you didn’t.” And you feel and sound so desperate as you say it, the tension leaving your body after weeks of this facade.

Jeongin stands still, the smile on his slowly fading.

“You wanted me to say something?” He asks, disappointment lining his voice. “What more do you want me-”

“You care so much about what other people do, but you ignored me.” And now that you say it out loud, you know deep down you’d been a little sad he had. “We spend so much time together and I thought we were becoming friends. Wouldn’t a friend care a friend was getting laughed at?” You pause, not sure where you were pulling the friend card from - this whole thing was to check whether he had feelings for you but all you had evidence of was that he didn’t care about you at all.

“Friends?” You watch his face contort in thought, as if you weren’t in the middle of a conversation.

“It’s not even about that, I heard something dumb from Changbin and I wanted to see if it was true but now that I’m thinking about it, it clearly isn’t.” You can’t help but scoff at your stupidity. How could you have ever attached any meaning to something that came out of a drunk person’s mouth?

You were starting to lose it. You were getting confused too. Was this what you wanted all along? Jeongin to do something? Well he did; he threw a whole party to try and stop your ridiculous experiment even though he didn’t know what it was. So why did you feel so flustered by it?

“What uh, what did Changbin say?” Jeongin looks a little tense, as tense as you feel.

You considered telling him the truth but you didn’t want the humiliation; you’d endured all your silly outfits and people’s stares, but you couldn’t stomach the humiliation that you would feel if you did. It felt like you would be begging him to like you, not just asking what he thought.

And you didn’t beg anyone for anything.

“It doesn’t matter. Just forget anything ever happened between us, okay? Let’s just stop whatever-” you gesture with your hands helplessly. “-this is. Find a new admin.”

Jeongin faltered, one hand coming up to his face to take the sunglasses off. The corners of his mouth flopped into a frown and the expression on his face was suddenly so crestfallen. It made you regret how harsh you’d sounded, an ache appearing in your chest.

“You don’t want to work with me any more?” He looked at you with those sparkly eyes of his, the embodiment of that emoji everyone adores and for a moment you wondered if it was the lights or something else.

“No, I don’t.” You word vomit. “I just-” you pause. What did you want? Wanted him to have liked you? To have reassured you when people stared?

You had lost sight of what you were even doing, aimlessly putting on random clothes, trying to make yourself look crazy enough that he’d react. How could you be so childish? This was like the equivalent of kindergarteners pulling on pig tails cause they liked someone.

Hold up-

You were the one pulling in this context. And for what reason? You didn’t like Jeongin, did you? Did you?

“I don’t know!” You say out loud, breathing out shakily. “I’m leaving.” You can’t bear to look at his face, the disappointment, the pouty kicked puppy expression, it was too much. You weave through the crowd of bodies and disappear into the night, practically running home.

You had looked over your shoulder several times to see if Jeongin had made any attempt to follow you out of the house, but you knew it was selfish to think he might after what you’d said to him. You felt so shitty for making him look like that - the way his face fell replayed in your mind on loop. He was probably really mad at you, for being weird, for overreacting, for quitting so suddenly. All of it.

It had been over a couple of months since you’d started the advice clinic. All that time, you had to admit you’d grown fond of Jeongin and his little voice impressions and that stupid sheep blindfold that you still had on your desk, ready to use at the next appointment. There was no next appointment. Not for you anyway.

You’d become friends, at least in your head, but had your fondness grown into attachment and maybe something more?

Initially you had been in it for the money, but over time and especially after that one consultation in the dress boutique, you’d come to understand something profound about what Jeongin found rewarding in the experience. It was more about the way people felt. Maybe it put Jeongin in a different light that you hadn’t seen before.

You make it home and catch your remaining roommate lounging on the couch with a beer in her hand.

“YN?” She calls when she hears the door open and close. You throw off your shoes and make your way to the sink for some water.

“Yeah, I’m home.” You reply. You grab a cup off the dish rack and fill it, chugging until you feel breathless.

“I thought you were going to that party tonight, what happened?” She straightens up and looks over at you from the couch.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You sigh. “I’m tired, I think I’ll just have an early night.” You move to take a half eaten tub of ice cream out of the freezer.

“Ah, alright. Come through if you’re lonely, I’m catching up on some shows.” She tells you. You hum in response, grateful your roommate isn’t the pushy, invasive type. “Oh YN! I forgot, a package came for you yesterday. It’s in the utility closet.”

“I didn’t order anything, are you sure it’s for me?” You ask her, ice cream forgotten. She takes a sip of beer, nodding.

“It definitely had your name on it.”

“Okay, thanks.” You mumble and let her get back to her show.

You don’t know what you’re expecting but you go find the package and take it to your room.

It’s a white box, about A4 size in length and it has your name and address on it. It’s not that heavy when you pick it up and you wonder what on Earth it could be. Had you impulse shopped at 3am again? No, you’d remember if you were expecting a package; call it organised or paranoid, but you would.

With a pair of scissors you slice the box open, following the lines and being careful not to ruin the box. You sit and move the flaps carefully and find a layer of tissue paper and folded note on top.

Your eyes scour the note, more like short letter, and your heart physically sinks.

You were the biggest douche you knew right now. You feel like screaming in despair. Why would he do this to you?

You let the note flop to the bed and unravel the tissue paper, your suspicions confirmed when you laid eyes on the bordeaux fabric folded neatly in the box. You let out a groan and lie backwards, except you underestimate your stability on the edge of your bed and tumble down with a yelp.

You hit the floor with a thud and all you can think about is how karmically deserved that was. You just lie there for a moment and your roommate bursts in.

“YN?” She shouts, scanning your room until she finds you on the floor. “Are you okay?” She asks, lowering her voice.

You let the question sink in for a moment, trying to control the influx of frustration, anger, regret, guilt and more, followed by tears.

“Am I ever okay?” You say, your throat closing so you sound like a wheezing cat.

“Um,” your roommate hesitates to answer what was meant to be a rhetorical question.

“I fucked up so badly.” You confess, the tears spilling over the edges of your eyes and falling down the sides of your face. You sniffle and close your eyes.

“Oh sweetie.” You hear your roommate shuffle until she’s sitting next to you and pulling you to rest your head on her lap. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

“Read that piece of paper.” You instruct, pointing to your bed. It might make more sense for her to see that first before you explained everything.

She reaches up on to the bed for it and grasps it, turning it over in her hands.

“‘Dear YN. It’s been almost three months since we started the clinic. In honour of that I’m throwing a party themed ‘opposites’, just like you and I are. I know you’ll probably wear something that is in the eyes of others heinous so I wanted to give you another option, one that matches you better. As Christian Dior once said: ‘There is certainly a red for everyone.’ And this one, I’m certain, is yours. If I’ve learned anything in the past few months, it’s that clothes enhance the beauty that lies beneath them. So I humbly invite you to be the only person who does not come as their opposite, but as themselves. Yours, Young Master Yang.’”

You choke on the sob that reverberates through your chest.

“Oh my god.” She says, blinking. Then she gasps dramatically. “It’s a love letter!”

“And I’m a bitch.” You cry harder. Your roommate flicks your forehead and glares at you. “What? I thought we were just stating what things are at this point?”

“No, we are not and you are not. Whatever happened, I’m sure it’s not that bad.” She reassures you naively.

“Wanna bet?” You sniffle.

You get up and sit on your bed, the two of you sitting on either side of the box, your roommate listening intently to every bullshit thing you did since the beginning while you clutch Ramie the Ram to your chest.

At the end, there’s silence as your roommate digests the information you just bombarded her with. She tilts her head and purses her lips, the action putting her in the most pensive state you’d ever witnessed her in.

“Okay,” she begins. “Maybe it was kinda bad, but it’s fixable. It sounds like a misunderstanding, about the dress and what you said at the party. So you could start with that?”

“You don’t think it’s that bad but you didn’t see his little face, he looked so crushed and disappointed. And I quit too. That was just even worse.” You tell her.

“Listen, I’m going to ask you a bunch of questions, yes or no ones. Ready?” You nod. “Do you want to fix things?” She asks. You nod. “Do you want to keep working with him?” You nod again. “Do you like him?” You find yourself nodding again then stop abruptly.

“Holy shit.” You whisper. You roommate looks just a tad happy with herself.

“Oh would you look at that, you can tell the truth.” She gloats, throwing a smirk your way. You click your tongue at her.

“You tricked me, okay? It doesn’t count.” You reason, shaking your head. At that she groans, a loud monstrous and exasperated sound.

“Would you give it up already? Face it, you’ve fallen for Jeongin and that’s why you kept doing the stupid dressing up thing. That’s why you’re distressed and crying about what happened. Because you care about him.” Your roommate spells it out for you in small words.

There’s a sense of relief in your chest as you hear it out loud for some reason; as if you’d known for a long time that this was the case but you’d been so caught up in petty things that you’d never paid attention to the mounting feelings you had.

“Okay, yes, I care about him. I like him.” It sounds so bizarre as it comes out of your own mouth but also incredibly right. “I like it when he laughs, when his smile reaches his eyes, when he says something snarky but not mean at all. I like it when he does his voice impressions or vows he’ll make me his lawyer one day.”

“Jeez, you fell hard.” Your roommate mutters. “Don’t tell me about it, tell him!” She exclaims.

“What, now?” You ask, dubious.

“Yes! Go!”

“No, he’s probably so mad right now, I can’t go and do that. I should give him time to cool off first.” You reason.

“You’re just being a coward again, aren’t you?” She asks sceptically. “He probably just wants to know you don’t hate him.”

“I can’t do it. I can’t just go and give him whiplash like that.” You shake your head. “It’s not fair for me to say one thing and then another in one night.”

“Love isn’t fair and life’s too short to wait for it to be fair. Now go before I kick you out of the apartment.” She huffs, she looks down at the box between you and seems to get an idea. “Go now or the dress gets it!”

You gasp in outrage.

“You wouldn’t! Don’t you dare hurt my dress. It’s precious.” You threaten back.

“So is your relationship with Jeongin, now leave already, would you.” She gets up and starts to drag your arm.

You let her usher you out the door, not even pausing to let you put your shoes on properly but thrusts them into your hand and shuts the door.

“Don’t come back until you tell him how you feel.” She says, her voice muffled by the door.

You knew she was right. It was just astonishing how terrible you felt about the whole situation and how worried you were about what Jeongin might say if he saw you again tonight.

Well, he already hated you probably, so there was nothing left to lose, was there? You wanted to apologise. You, who didn’t beg anyone for anything, were going to beg Jeongin for forgiveness.

It was getting late now, past midnight, but you speed walked back to the Sigma Kappa Zeta house, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other. The party was probably not over yet as the usual end time was around 2am, a Chan imposed curfew on every party goer and SKZ member. He maintained that it was for keeping some kind of sleeping pattern but you knew it was probably ‘cause he didn’t want to keep chaperoning everyone all night.

As the house came into view, you could tell from a distance that the party was still going strong. You made it back in, looking wildly all over for a glimpse of the fur coat.

You hear your name being called out from behind you and you whip around to see Changbin approaching you. He’s wearing a shirt and sweater vest contrasted by a pair of basketball shorts. To his right you notice one of the other SKZ members, Hyunjin, wearing the top part of the basketball jersey and a pair of black slacks to match.

“Where have you been?” Changbin asks. “What happened with Jeongin? He’s been holed up in his room all night. Do you know anything about it?”

You sigh, the guilt rising up in your chest.

“It’s my fault. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” You promise. There’s a hint of scepticism in the way he quirks his eyebrows but Changbin nods.

“I know we’re friends, but that’s my little brother, I don’t want to see him hurt.” He warns. You understand where it’s coming from although at the same time you want to tell him you’d heard what you had from him first and foremost, but you know he’s right. Changbin will stand up for his family no matter what and you respect that.

“Me neither, which is why I’m going to fix this.” You bid him goodbye and head towards the stairs. You heart is thumping at your throat as you go up, each step feeling like it takes you miles forward.

When you get to his door, you hesitate, swallowing down your anxiety as much as you can. The party is still noisy downstairs, the music thumping through the house and chatter filling up the air. You raise your hand, resting your fist against the wood for a moment. Before you can over think it, you rap your knuckles against the door and wait.

You can’t really hear anything but after a moment the door swings open and Jeongin stands on the other side. He registers who it is and a flash of surprise rocks his features.

“Please can we talk?” You ask, your voice quieter than you thought it would be.

He doesn’t say anything but stands aside to let you in. You’d not really been in Jeongin’s room before, maybe that time with the ripped dress girl but that was so long ago you didn’t remember what it looked like. His room isn’t messy but it’s not pristine either; the bed is half unmade, the large fur coat thrown haphazardly over the desk chair, a bunch of sketchbooks and pencils littered on the desk itself.

Jeongin sits on one corner of the bed, looking down at his hands and you stand a few feet away, looking at him, wondering where to start.

“I got your note,” you begin. “And the dress. It came yesterday but I didn’t see it until a while ago.” You shift from one foot to the other. You don’t waste any more time. “I’m so sorry, Jeongin.” You say. “For everything I said. And for quitting on you and for the silly experiment and not talking to you like a normal human being should have.”

Jeongin perks up slightly. “Experiment? Is that what that was?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I was trying to figure out if you’d comment on what I was doing, whether you would tell me how to dress better like you do with other people. It was stupid and childish, but I did it because I thought it might show if you had any feelings for me at all.” You sigh, realising how random it must have sounded to him. “Anyway, I played myself because I got too caught up in it and hurt you so it was all for nothing.”

Jeongin blinks for a moment, considering what you were revealing.

“You wanted to find out if I had feelings for you? Why?” He asks, a small frown appearing on his lips.

“Because I heard that you might but I didn’t trust it without proof. And I didn’t get any in the end, I guess.” You half shrug apologetically.

“What do you mean you got no proof?” Jeongin stands up suddenly. You’re taken aback at the abrupt action, your heart starting to hammer in your chest. “Was that note not clear enough? Was me putting up a truce nothing?” He questions.

“I don’t get it.” You whisper. Was he telling you that Changbin was right all along?

“You know, for the smartest person I know, you sure are dense.” He shakes his head, a smile breaking over his features. “Of course I have feelings for you! Of course I like you! There, is that obvious enough?” He says, looking at you expectantly.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. Now that you heard it from him, it still didn’t make sense, as if your brain couldn’t compute the information.

“You do…” you trail off, a wave of relief coursing through you. “Then why didn’t you tell me I was being weird and stop me?” You ask.

“What do you mean?” Jeongin tilts his head.

“You should have criticised me the way you would have anyone else, why didn’t you? I thought you couldn’t care less about me.” You explain. Jeongin’s mouth widens in an ‘o’ with his understanding. He hums for a second.

“I didn’t say anything because” he pauses. “To me you were always more important than what you looked like and always beautiful no matter what you were wearing.” He says, finding your eyes and holding them with his.

It renders you speechless and you feel like even more of an idiot for going to the lengths that you did, every action left in vain by Jeongin’s simple explanation. His words make your head spin and your chest feel tight, the symptoms of nervousness zipping over your body.

No one ever said this type of shit to you, not one single soul. If anyone else had said it, you wouldn’t believe them, but because it was Jeongin, you somehow knew deep down he meant it.

“Okay, I have a feeling I know the answer but I’ll ask just in case.” He steps towards you and stops in front of you. “Is it mutual? Or have I just misread the reason why you came here?”

You’re so close you can see the light reflecting in Jeongin’s irises and smell his perfume. He was still wearing his party outfit, the first few buttons of the dotted shirt undone.

You take a breath, exhaling shakily, and steel yourself. You were only telling the truth tonight.

“It is mutual.” You reply. “It is, and I don’t know when it started to be, it doesn’t really matter, because it is.” You say with newfound conviction. It was so much easier to say it and it made you feel so much lighter. Maybe because just being in front of Jeongin, you felt yourself becoming braver.

“I’m really happy it is. It means I can take you out on actual dates instead of appointments.” He beams. You look down when you feel him reaching for your hand. He takes it gently with his slightly larger one and holds it firmly. You can’t help but return his smile, your face muscles moving of their own accord. “So, can we kiss? Because I missed you so much already.” He whines, tone switching in a heartbeat.

You burst out laughing at the sudden change. That was more like the Jeongin you knew.

“God, you’re so dramatic, you saw me two hours ago.” You say jokingly, closing the space between you. “Now, come here.” You reach up to cup his face with your free hand, and bring your lips together.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it’s a hundred times better. Jeongin lets go of your hand in favour of curling his arms around your waist to pull you even closer, smooshing the two of you against each other and you deepen the kiss, getting obsessed with the feeling of his soft lips on yours. Your hands land on each of his shoulders, fingers scrunching up his shirt and if you weren’t so preoccupied, you’d worry you were messing it up.

Eventually you pull away to breathe, your lips swollen but still chasing Jeongin’s. He holds you close still and looks down.

“Take off your clothes.” He says, his voice gravelly. A thrum of energy runs straight through you but you blink at him.

“Aren’t we moving too fast?” You ask. He chuckles at your question for some reason.

“That’s not what I meant!” He shakes with laughter. You’re confused. “Your disco pants are literally blinding me right now.” He steps back a fraction and you notice how the light coming from his desk lamp is reflecting on the tiny sequences of your outfit. You snort at your lapse of understanding, feeling the embarrassment heat your cheeks.

“Ah, right. Sorry.” You say sheepishly. Jeongin lets you go and walks over to his closet, sliding a drawer open and plucking out an item of clothing.

“Here, before you start attracting ships from over the horizon.” He giggles, handing you a pair of checkered pyjama pants.

“Jeongin, I’m not a lighthouse!” You complain but take them.

“What? You told me to criticise you like other people. I’m saying it because I care.” He says and pulls you closer again, planting a soft kiss on your temple as you pout.

“Don’t make me regret it, Young Master.” You ‘humph’ at him.

“Aha, okay, my Lady. Got it.” He nods. You take a good look at the pyjama and reckon it will fit you. It was kind of funny you were already getting your boyfriend’s clothes. Wait- was he your boyfriend now?

You suddenly feel the urge to ask. “Also, just to clarify, we are starting to date, aren’t we?”

“YN!” Jeongin groans, the answer evident in his voice.

“Okay, okay, it’s official. Just checking.” You hold up your hands innocently, smiling at the conclusion.

A/N: thanks for reading!! feedback is always appreciated <3 i had fun starting the series, though i have to admit i didn’t expect for this one to end up this short lol and it’s probably the lack of smut, forgive me, it didn’t fit the vibe here, but i have promised it so i shall deliver it at some point, please bear with, thank you!

#stray kids #stray kids college au #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #i.n #yang jeongin #jeongin x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin imagines #jeongin scenarios #momobani.writes

48 notes · View notes

highwaytothedangerzone502 · 2 years

Text

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 17

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 1472

Warnings: None

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when her Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: I Love You 18

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23

Rooster

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Juliette in the red lace dress with the sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps. Her blonde hair in perfect waves, the dainty silver chain with the diamond pendant resting on her sun-kissed skin, the sparkling earrings to match, the red-bottom black lace shoes- it was a look that could kill, and although Bradley hadn't been its first victim judging by the passionate kiss Hangman had Juliette in moments ago, Bradley certainly had the most agonizing death. Juliette could wear anything, but red had always been her color. It had always driven Bradley crazy; apparently, things hadn't changed. It still drove him nuts. She still drove him nuts. He still wanted her, but Juliette understandably wanted to avoid anything other than friendship with him after the truths that came out last night. Bradley, who had silently hated himself all these years for not returning to Jules after he'd walked out on her, for not having the courage to overcome his wounded pride and ego, for letting his fears control him, now despised himself further, something he didn't think was possible. Seeing Juliette silently sobbing after their fight, though, shattered his heart, but Bradley didn't dare tell her that. He did this to himself. Not her.

"Bradshaw!" A girl called out, the voice familiar but unrecognizable. "How dare you not come say hi to me first thing?"

Rooster turned towards the direction of his alleged acquaintance, a grin spreading across his face at the sight of Firefly, all dressed up with a crown and sash that said 'Bride to Be.' After today's near-brawl with Hangman and his fractured relationship with Jules, Rooster was glad to see a friendly face. He swaggered up to his old friend and lifted her in the air with a hug. "Good to see you, short stuff!"

"You're lucky I'm drunk and in a good mood!" She retorted with a laugh as he set her down. "Bend down for a sec- you're too tall, and I need to tell you something."

Rooster bent down. "Hmm?"

"This-" Firefly whacked him violently upside the head- "is for not telling me you were stateside. And this-" she slapped him upside the head again- "is for not saying hi to me the moment you knew I was here, which I know you did because Jules said she ran into you. Literally, I think. She said you're here for a special training detachment?"

"Yeah," Rooster replied, rubbing the back of his head ruefully. "I see you still pack a punch."

"I have to hold my own against all you giant hotshots some way. Why are you hiding over here when you should be hanging out with me and my girlfriends along with all the other men? You seriously going to let Hangman hit on Juliette?"

"After last night, I have a feeling she would rather I not join. Not to mention, she seemed perfectly content with the liplock Hangman had her in earlier."

Firefly waved a dismissive hand. "Trust me, I know about that. I wouldn't worry about it. And sweetheart, this is my bachelorette party, so if I say you can join, you can join. The girls and I are going to get people up and dancing, and son, I know you got moves, so you're joining."

"I don't get a choice in this, do I?"

"Nope!" Firefly turned on her heel and beelined for her group. Rooster nodded in defeated acceptance and followed her. Juliette, Phoenix, and a girl he didn't know were laughing hysterically over something, and none of them sobered up when Rooster approached, not even Juliette, which told him she was definitely inebriated. Without giving anyone warning, Firefly grabbed onto Juliette and Rooster's hands, dragging them over to the jukebox. Phoenix and Maria trailed closely behind them. Firefly came to a stop and flipped through the songs, asking, "What song should we dance to first?"

"Ooh! Footloose!" Maria pleaded, already punching in the numbers. "I've been rewatching the movie, and I'm dying to dance to it!"

"Footloose it is!" Firefly pressed play, and, once more, Rooster found himself being dragged by his friend to a makeshift dance floor. He noticed his fellow aviators joining from the corner of his eye. Much to his chagrin, Hangman finagled his way next to Juliette, who beamed excitedly up at him.

You had your chance, and you blew it. Leave her alone. Rooster chastised himself silently, attempting but failing to push down his rising jealousy. God, why did she have to look so good tonight? Did she know he was going to be here tonight? Did she purposefully wear the outfit to drive him crazy? He doubted it. Juliette didn't play those games. Besides, hadn't Firefly said not to worry about the kiss between Jules and Hangman? What was that about? Because those two seemed cozier than ever. It's not like he could ask Juliette about it. After last night, talking to Rooster would be at the bottom of her to-do list.

The song started up, and Firefly gave Rooster no further opportunity to dive deeper down into his pit of regret and jealousy, although Juliette never strayed far from his mind, especially when, at some point, she ended up next to him. She danced her heart out to each and every song, singing along at the top of her lungs, her angelic voice harmonizing with the artists. Rooster could barely take his eyes off of her. Only when Hangman grabbed Juliette's hand and spun her into him did Bradley avert his gaze.

Deciding he was hot and tired of dancing, Rooster slipped away from the group and went up to the bar, ordering a beer. He'd hardly been there two seconds when Hangman, the last possible person he wanted to be around, joined him at the counter. The egotistical pilot ordered a beer as well, then turned to Rooster and said, "Bradshaw, I need to apologize."

It took all of Bradley's willpower not to choke on his drink. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"For earlier today, when I insinuated that Mav had something to do with your dad's death. It was uncalled for and a dick move even for me, so I'm sorry." Although he struggled to get the words out, Hangman sounded genuine in his apology. What prompted it, Rooster had no idea.

"Thanks…" Bradley replied hesitantly, still not entirely over what Hangman insinuated about Maverick playing a part in Goose's death. No matter how Rooster felt about his surrogate dad now, it would never change the fact that Maverick mourned Goose the same as Carole Bradshaw; when Goose died, Maverick lost his best friend, his brother, his other half. On more than one occasion, Rooster heard Maverick talking, sometimes shouting, in his sleep, "Eject! Goose, eject!" When Mav would tell him bedtime stories, it was always stories of his dad and what the two of them got up to during school and in the Navy. These, along with so many others, were why Bradley could never blame Maverick for his father's death, even if Mav had been flying the plane. He'd never lost the guilt over losing his RIO, and Rooster would defend his surrogate dad from anyone who declared otherwise.

An awkward silence fell between the two pilots while Hangman waited for his beer. Rooster kept his eyes ahead, unintentionally where Juliette sang along to some pop song about an ex with the other girls. Hangman, apparently not done talking, asked, "Bradshaw, can I give you some advice?"

"Absolutely not," Rooster responded shortly, knowing fully well that his comrade would speak anyway.

"Don't let her go a second time."

Bradley frowned, finally tearing his gaze from Juliette to lock onto Hangman. "Excuse me?"

"Don't let her go a second time," he repeated, nodding at Jules. "Don't act around her like you do in the sky. When you see your shot, take it."

Hangman sent him a short nod, then returned to their fellow aviators, leaving Rooster more than a little dumbfounded. What depth of Hell had frozen over to possess Hangman to apologize? What Stranger Things upside-down kind of world had Rooster entered? The questions evaporated from his mind when he saw Hangman next to Juliette, smiling down at her with an expression Rooster understood all too well. Now he understood Jake's words, which hadn't been mere advice. They'd been a warning, too. If Rooster didn't make his move on Juliette, Hangman would, and Bradley had no doubt Juliette would agree to a date with Hangman. The mere idea of those two together made Bradley nauseous. He couldn't let that happen. If Bradley and Juliette were still in love with each other, then surely they could find a way to work it out.

He had to try.

***

Tags: @lgg5989@shanimallina87@polikszena@summ3rlotus@souslesyeuxde@gleasonmalfoy@icemansgirl1999@supernaturaldawning@thedarkinmansfield@lyannaforpresident@lapilark@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth@simpofthecentury @blueeyes-blueskye @gleasonmalfoy @armyx78

22 notes · View notes

boundinparchment · 1 year

Text

Of Blood and Sparks - I

Karina Alexandre of Fontaine lost her position, her family, and her Archon's favor. A dead Electro Vision is her mark of guilt. A reminder to never fail again. Faith shattered, and suspicious of the Fatui, she eventually makes her way to Liyue, where she encounters a certain funeral parlor consultant. Little does she know it's only the beginning. Original character centric; eventual Zhongli/OC. Posted originally at @chevalier-of-fontaine. ArchiveOfOurOwn || FF.net || Karina's profile

The crowd was thick tonight. She expected as much. People from Mond spoke of such affairs fondly and the very location of the celebration, Dawn Winery, was cemented in the region’s history.

The heir to Dawn Winery, Diluc Ragnivindr, hadn’t been seen in his family home in years.

Not since Ursa the Drake.

She hadn’t been here for that. Back then, Fontaine had still been her home.

The wooden floors and railings of the manor were polished to such brilliance that Karina spotted someone checking their teeth in the reflection. She was certain that the winery’s motto, Shine True , wasn’t meant to be taken so literally.

She wandered among elegant dresses and finely tailored suits; uniforms for the evening she clearly missed the memo about. After all, what use was a dress in her line of work? Her well-preserved coat, along with clean trousers, dead Vision at her hip, and freshly polished boots would have to do. She stood out no less than others in service, wearing dress uniforms reserved for such an occasion.

Slinking upstairs was the easy part, if one knew where to look. Few others, save two brothers and perhaps one Acting Grand Master, knew precisely where the servants' pathways in the house were. Karina worked her way through the barren halls, up a staircase, and through a narrow corridor until she came through to the upstairs balcony.

From her vantage point, she could see the entire party unfold. Wine flowed freely, music swelled in time with the ringing of laughter, and there was enough food to feed just the Knights of Favonius for a week.

It was well-deserved.

And yet so hollow.

Court was like this. Dresses, food, sometimes music. Always being watched. One had to be careful to do the correct thing and only the right thing. Follow etiquette, follow law, and never criticize Her Honor. The Hydro Archon was a harsh judge of character but even She wasn’t above the Laws of Justice and the Heavenly Principles.

Walking on broken glass bare-foot in winter was easier and less painful than an event at the Court of Mirrors.

At least she never had to go back. It was best if she didn’t, anyway.

Few in this room actually knew of the events preceding the celebration. Such news was hidden away by the very red-faced figures who were spilling their wine as they told stories of the old days. Recent weeks’ happenings added an incredible weight to the darker parts of Mond’s history than most wanted to think about.

That was the magic of freedom, wasn’t it? To be able to choose your truth, your reality. What a luxury.

“You’re late.”

And her host was right on time.

“Yes, well, some of us had to ensure Dottore’s notes got into the right hands,” she shot back.

Karina took the proffered glass of juice, raised it in thanks, but didn’t drink. She was glad to have something to occupy her hands.

Diluc always found her when she wandered too far. Even now, he used her as an excuse to duck away, even for a few minutes. Both of them were hesitant, unsure of what to say in another’s company. It came with the territory, the nature of their relationship broken by differences, but it was no less uncomfortable.

“No Delusion back-fire?” She asked, her eyes trained on the crowd below, old habits that refused to die from her days as a soldier, a knight.

Obviously not, she reminded herself. He wouldn’t be here if that was the case. She’d seen enough of them to know that.

He shook his head.

“The ambush will hopefully teach the Fatui a lesson. Keep them second-guessing themselves for a while,” Diluc muttered. “I have no doubt someone recognized the device but that was the point.”

He crossed his arms as Karina leaned forward onto the wooden railing, propped up on her elbows. She dangled her glass between her fingers and watched the light below pierce through the crystal glass and into the dark liquid, revealing its vibrant burgundy shade.

“I want to go investigate the ruins he was using,” she said softly, finally taking a swig of the juice.

It was sweet but not sickly so. The natural sugar from the grape mingled with...was that Valberry?

“You’re a free agent. You can do as you please.”

He said it so disdainfully it made the grape juice sour in her mouth for a moment. Always making her ask . He threw her venomous words from months ago back at her without ever having to say them.

She could go alone. It was more that she didn’t want to.

Perhaps even shouldn’t.

Neither of them wanted help, to tangle others in their troubles. They knew what came of that.

Karina sighed, exasperated. “Will you come with me?”

Diluc let out a breath through his nose and she half-expected him to deflect and say he would think about it. But instead, he said, “As if I’d pass up a chance to get inside this demented screwball’s head. Pick a day. I’ll make time.”

Karina nodded, looking down again into the burgundy liquid. Just darker than fresh blood. She pushed that thought down. Deep, deep down. Not tonight. Maybe this time her mind would listen.

Diluc turned to go but paused and looked over his shoulder as he said, “I found that book you mentioned.”

Her brow raised in interest and she pushed herself off the railing to follow when he began walking away without another word. They stepped through a set of double doors into the humble and cozy library at the back of the manor. This room was one of the few she still had permission to enter whether Diluc was on premise or not; a bargain from years ago after she divulged just why, exactly, she carried a dead Vision.

The once-purple stone was dark as night, as though all color was drained from it. Its setting was just as pristine as the stone, both polished meticulously. Much like oiling her sword, it was a ritual she couldn’t shake. To some it was pointless.

For her, it was a necessity.

Diluc pulled a book from her ‘loan’ shelf. She could never take anything from the room but she was allowed to keep track of her reads. He’d clearly intended for her to find it at a later date. Why did he want her to have it now?

As soon as she saw the color of the binding, she knew. He held it out to her, the cover title all but burned away and the corners severely boxed, leaving only the author’s name. It hadn’t held up well at all.

“It’s damaged, obviously. But it had a name in it.”

Karina placed her cup on the nearest surface and took the book gingerly. She opened the cover with care as the binding snapped and cracked under her fingers. Her sister always took such good care of her books, even repairing them when necessary. She thumbed the pages, forced herself not to stick her nose in and smell it. That could wait. Trembling fingers flipped to the back cover. A book plate as fresh as the day it was applied bore a drawing of Fontaine’s skyline and a note in cramped, elegant writing from one Rhiannon Alexandre. It wasn’t in the shared Common script, clearly intended for the owner of the book.

She traced the ink, thoughts of the room around her forgotten. For a moment, she was back in Fontaine, safely tucked into bed, reading to...

“How did you…?”

When she looked up after receiving no response, Diluc was already near the door.

“Lisa may have mentioned it to her Sumeru contact, who came across it on their way to Mondstadt. I wanted to verify its safety first.”

Karina closed the book and held it close. An old friend, dearly missed. She bowed slightly at the waist as she said, “Thank you. It’s a debt I won’t be able to repay.”

With the slightest smile, he said, “You’ll think of something, chevalier.”

Diluc closed the door behind him.

Alone in the library again.

She silently appreciated the escape from the rest of the party. It meant no one would see her dip her nose to the pages as she thumbed them, smelling the ink, the paper and the scent of burning firewood and juniper. It smelled like home.

A home that, even if it took her back, would never be the same.

Karina came to the book plate and pressed her lips to the words before she whispered, “ Je promets de t'apporter la paix, soeur.”

I promise to bring you peace, sister.

#verse: of blood and sparks #genshin impact oc #genshin impact original character #fanfiction #fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin oc #OC: Karina Alexandre #reposting from my other account #will be edited on AO3 and ff.net as I go

9 notes · View notes

keuncats · 2 years

Note

[ dance ] for your muse to dance with mine /// kkkkkkjjkjk endlessly aqui vai hyuntae se vira

it was a halloween event that everyone seem to attend at the club, he was dressed up as steven harrigton working at the ice cream shop on season three and he was moving around places, and if wasn't for the company of his bandmates he would feel like having a meltdown on the place because he felt so out of places on social situations. hyuntae wasn't a big fan of parties, he wasn't a good drinker and even though he made friends with the most random people easily a lot of times he didn't even know what he did to be liked by them. he appreciated the music playing in the room though, it made his body feel more relax than alcohol could ever do, it was like every muscle of his body felt like moving and there was something that grew inside him that would burst his confidence and he felt invincible. that other time he felt this good was when he was loved by the love of his life and he wondered if she was already in there, that growing feeling starting to grow again up to his heart just wishing to be with haneul.

he bumped into too many people trying to make space to walk and search for her until he could see her and didn't even need to ask what fantasy she would be wearing. haneul was sitting in some table hanging out with her three best friends, all of them dressing in sexy costumes while his girlfriend was following the theme of what halloween was supposed to be, and if you asked hyuntae he would say that he would just for that only he felt more in love with her. haneul was known who she was and would always do things that felt comfortable for her and he envied her so much for that, he continuous to learn so much from him that he just accepted the fact that maybe he could never be the perfect boyfriend for her but that was okay because she was already satisfied with who he was. hyuntae made his way toward the table, standing behind his girlfriend, placing his hand over her waist in a way she would notice him. "hi ladies, can i take this one away for a moment?" he smiled briefly at them and locked eyes with haneul, not beliving in the confidence in his voice when talking to them and how much their relationship had grown over the years. hyuntae still had memories of when he would awkwardly get her room in the dorm and have to judge the stares that kyungri and seulgi would give him, and as much scared he was of them, he understood that they were being protective over someone who they cared about while hailey would kindly try to ease the energy in the room talking to him which he was very grateful but he knew she was being friendly to him more out of love for haneul and trusting her decision on having him is her life again than actually have a like on him. nonetheless, everyone in there moved on and got close to each other and he wasn't afraid anymore to flirt in front of them, or whoever would appear. "c'mon dance with me" he whispered in her ear and hyuntae knew she was starting to blush because the one didn't enjoy those stuff as much as he but he didn't care at all, he knew every moment they had was perfect.

he took haneul by the hand and pull her body over his to kiss her. he wrapped his arms over her even if the song was playing didn't feel like this at all, swing their bodies together making her body loosen up, mumbling the words of my love by justin timberlake, the music that the dj put to play. hyuntae lowed his height to be face to face with her, their noses teaching each other and haneul could feel his breath. it was so unusual of hyuntae to be free but he didn't care if he wasn't supposed to be this way, she made him feel like they were indestructible. he face was burning red while dancing and seeing her waist move that closes to his, he put his hand over her neck and they started to kissing, his lips were warm and growing deep each time passed. they stopped to catch on their breaths and haneul gave a cute laugh and asking what give into him today. "i love you, thats all."

#OH MY GOD I DID #I REPLIED A ASKED AFTER #BILLION OF YEARS #eu nao sei se ta boa msm #vc que decidiu ter uma analfabeta dislexica e gaga das ideias pra fazer essas coisa #im so sorry #toca moments ai rapaz !#e tb my love do justin timberlake #hyuntae.#haneul x hyuntae #also eu nao sei o timing disso vc decide #eu so fiz

40 notes · View notes

peakyblindas · 2 years

Text

Fancy meeting you here. (Agent 47 x OFC)

(So...uhh, yeah here we are I guess, I’m a simp for the bald clone man.)

Pandora is in Paris and runs into the last person she’d expect.

Paris was Pandora’s favorite city, she enjoyed the food and the culture, But mostly she enjoyed the role it allowed her to play.

Tonight, in the expensive hotel named The Golden Swan or ‘le cygne d'or’ she was a heiress from the South of the country named Océane Devillers and she was here to attend a opening at a private art gallery down the street, the next night, Then at the after party, she would slip some poison into the drink of the headlining artist, Vincent Ponce.

She’d be back in the hotel spa before anyone even noticed her.

The sound of heels on marble was her favorite sound. Of course when playing the role of a french heiress, you have to dress the part, designer shoes, expensive silk blouse, pearl necklace, Diamond earrings, All completed the illusion.

Cutting through the lobby was the quickest way to the lifts that lead to the rooftop restaurant, where dinner was being served.

There was a man checking in at the front desk, he was wearing a thick coat and fedora against the nights rain.

“And your name, Monsieur?” The polite receptionist asked

“Tobias Rieper.”

Pandora’s heart stopped in her chest, What in the hell was he doing here?

After a quick dinner, far quicker than Pandora would have preferred, She walked up to the desk, a fake smile plastered on her ruby red lips.

“So sorry to bother you..”

The receptionist smiled back

“But I was supposed to be meeting a friend of mine for drinks, A Mr. Rieper? And he didn’t show.” She leans on the desk “He has checked in, hasn’t he?”

“Yes Miss, he checked in over an hour ago.”

She laughed, polite, fake.

“The fool has probably passed out in his room, he always gets tired when traveling.” She paused to laugh “I don’t suppose I could get his room number, to go wake him?”

“Uhh..We aren’t allowed to give out guests room numbers..”

“Oh please? Just this once?” She tapped her fingers on the desk “He’ll be livid if he misses me.”

The Receptionist sighs

“Just this once.” She types away on her computer “He is in room 205, fourth floor.”

“Thank you so much.”

She reached into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out a wad of euro bills “For you breaking the rules..”

She slid her a twenty, the receptionist quickly took it and stuffed it into her jacket pocket

“Thank you so much Madam.”

Pandora half didn’t expect an answer as she knocked on the wooden hotel room door.

But he did, In a weird turn of events she had been right about him being asleep, a lucky guess, judging by the dressing gown he wore around his muscular frame.

Agent 47 never seemed to change, always had his clean shaved face and head, always had piercing blue eyes that seemed to look right through you, All though they did widen in surprise at seeing her.

“Fancy seeing you here, Mi amour.” She smiled, keeping up the fake accent

He didn’t answer.

“Well..invite me in, it's the polite thing to do.”

She stepped over the threshold into his room, it was painfully neat.

“Or do they not teach you manners at the ICA?”

She dropped the accent, slipping back into her natural English, all though even that was a fake, she was Russian by birth.

The door clicked shut and before she could react she was being slammed against it, his arm on her throat.

“What are you doing here?”

There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his voice, there never was.

“Currently I do believe I’m being threatened.” He increased the pressure on her throat “Alright, Alright..I’m not here for you, if that's what you mean.”

He relaxed and removed his arm

“If I was here for you, 47, you’d be dead.”

A brief smile flashed across his face.

“Then why are you here?”

“Best cocktails and spa in all of Paris.” She walked over to his bed, the sheets were tucked in so tight she wondered if he even slept under them, she sat down “On a job, you know I can’t tell you what, I suspect you signed the same NDA”

“At least give me a place, so I know we’re not after the same target.”

“Art gallery.”

He nodded “Not the same.”

“When is your hit?”

“Tomorrow.”

She smiled “So you have one night in Paris?”

She kicked off her heels “Whatever shall you do to pass the time?”

He slid the security chain over his door and moved towards her, slow, Like the predator he was.

But she was no mere prey.

“I’m sure we can think of something.”

#OC: Pandora #hitman fanfiction #agent 47 x ofc

4 notes · View notes

letterforyou1984 · 2 months

Text

You Used To Be My Sister

For 25 years I've considered you my best friend. Family. My sister from another mister. We have been through so much shit together.

But, since you stop speaking to me, it's given me time to look back at all the red flags from our entire friendship. Things I've ignored or made excuses for. This isn't me saying I've been perfect either, just saying I should have seen this coming from miles away.

Let's go back to 8th grade. When we met. It was Whitney that made first contact. I don't remember you and I talking much in 8th grade, except during the classes we had together. In gym we bonded over being the "fat" kids, but you made it weird, very quickly. You would beg me to wear my JNCO jeans whenever I wore them to school. My prized possession jeans. My coveted jeans. You would beg me starting at the beginning of gym class, every day I wore them. When I finally caved you would parade around in my jeans while I was wearing your jeans. Then we would trade back right before getting on the bus.

Once the school year was over, we didn't speak at all. Not until the 1st day of high school. Then, somehow I still don't understand, we became inseparable. Talked on the phone every day, ate lunch together every day, passed notes in classes, covered for each other when one was late. Well, more so me covering for you. It got to the point that the teacher would ask me where you were and to go get you.

I knew you were not living in a very safe living situation, and I never judged you for that. If anything I did my best to make sure you could hang out with me or spend the night as much as possible. Then when I started driving I would pick you up as often as I could to get you out of that house. But you were incredibly selfish.

First time I noticed it was when we were supposed to spend the weekend at your dads house in Columbus. Except one of his buddies picked us up, not your dad, and dropped us off at your dads. For us to finally be told your dad was in Vegas gambling and playing billiards. You got pissed at me for calling my parents and telling them of the very unsafe situation we were left in. We were 13 and 14 and I had no idea who that man and his daughter were. But I knew they weren't your dad, who we were supposed to be spending the weekend with.

Any guy I liked, you had to flirt with. Every. Single. Guy. When I finally got the courage to bring it up you would say "omg I didn't know. I was just being nice. I can never tell if I'm coming across as flirting or not" but then you would continue to repeat that cycle for YEARS.

When you left your husband and started dating Jim I went to the Dayton mall with you, so you could see him. You asked me if you could borrow my favorite dress and then proceeded to have sex with him, in his van, wearing my favorite dress, while I sat in the car next to the van hoping security wouldn't show up. I also went to a hotel with you just for him to show up and try and have sex with you, with me in the next bed. Then I was the problem because I got pissed and walked out of the room while yelling at Jim.

Let's not forget how many times I went to West Jeff with you just to be left alone while you made out with someone. Or the time you completely left the party to go have sex with someone. I didn't know any of those people and you left me alone. Even they were mad at you. Hell, your aunt told me to get in the car while she drove to the dudes house to yell at you for leaving me alone at the party.

You did the same thing when we would go out with Chris and his buddies. You two would vanish to go have sex somewhere and I'm left with complete strangers.

You lived with my mom after you left Chris, not paying a penny of rent you agreed/promised her you would pay, I watched your kid for free, and you didn't seem phased at all that it was a financial drain having two extra mouths and no extra income.

Then you started dating Nihk after I started talking to him, just to have him spend the nights knowing how I felt about the situation. And this was after you were caught making fun of me not knowing for a few weeks to your friend Mike!

You made fun of me constantly and then lied about it when I would find out.

"Ty didn't have any money so I had to get it for her"

"It wasn't fair to not get Ty something to eat."

"Ty doesn't know that we made out for hours while she was gone"

"Ty is over reacting to everything and it's pathetic"

Yes, there were moments you were a great friend and there when I needed you, but way too many times what you wanted came first.

I still remember the time I called you in tears, locked in my bathroom, because my boyfriend was screaming at me and kicking things around the house. It took you THREE HOURS to show up because you had stops to make first.

You knew I had a crush on Carly but every single time we saw her, you would look me dead in the eyes and go "I'm sorry, but I would fuck the shit out of her" and start laughing.

If you thought I guy I was talking to at the bar was cute you would pushing your way between us and start flirting with him.

Then we get to this fight in July 2023 where you are just sitting back while I have tabby and Sadi come at me in the group chat. You know how I get when I feel attacked or backed into a corner. I get defensive and I shut down.

You even messaged me privately trying to help me word my responses to get my point across without making it worse. Yet when I tried it your way, and tabby got more pissed off, you immediately took her side on things. You called me a liar and told me I was dramatic, that I've always been dramatic. That I thrive on it. This is not even a month after telling you both there was a strong chance I was autistic.

Not one single time before this fight was it ever brought to my attention that I was upsetting anyone. Or that people felt I was being dismissive or defensive.

All of the sudden I have three people at once telling me how horrible I am and how I'm making them miserable. Then Sadi is getting upset because I wouldn't tell her certain things and that I didn't consider her part of the friend group. She was, just not for me how she was for you and Tabby. Hell, it took a year of you talking to tabby on your own because we even started the group chat. It takes me longer to trust people and let them in. This is not a secret. But then you're watching me get berated for it and say nothing. Next thing I know you're telling me you're setting a boundary, without saying what the boundary is, and completely on tabby's side of things.

You have ONLY ever cared about yourself and how you come across to people.

#therapy #healing #mentalheal #journal

0 notes

ohmyeyesmyeyes · 3 years

Note

hi, i just wanted to say i loved your charles oneshot :) i was wondering if you could do an enemies to lovers w/ daniel ricciardo? thanks!

DANIEL RICCIARDO ONESHOT

TEMPORARY STRANGERS

( WARNING: swearing, alcohol, blood/injury, little bit of fluff/angst? )

word count: 5.4k

< this is my attempted version lol >

You’d debated whether or not to go to Theo’s party. For one, it was on a Thursday night, which, in itself, was rather tragic for a party thrown for an adult because surely he had to have thought that most people would be working on a Thursday night? Secondly, you had an early shift at the hospital in the morning, so you weren't sure if staying at a party fit for Blair Waldorf for a couple of hours was entirely worth your presence.

But, after a persuasive conversation on the phone — in which Theo spent the majority of it begging you to make an appearance — you’d caved and now you found yourself standing in the middle of a kitchen sipping on a lemonade, expertly avoiding everyone’s eyes and wondering why you agreed to come in the first place.

The apartment was a large, luxurious one, decked from head to toe in pricey decorations and with an open-plan layout. You even had half the mind to compare it to what you imagined a Royal Palace looked like.

In other words, it was big and incredibly tasteful and fancy, in the most annoying way possible.

Then again, Theo did own a successful Estate Agency, which specialized heavily in selling buildings in the centre of London. The money pooled from that spoke for itself, and it also meant that since university he’d met people in all aspects of his work, all of which looked like they’d been invited to his party, which unfortunately meant you didn’t know anyone, and the couple that you did, you had absolutely zero intentions of actually talking to them.

The guests themselves were glamorous, dressed to the nines and decked with expensive watches and jewellery, and you felt out of place wearing your best dress with your favourite high-tops and a blazer.

On another note, the lemonade and food were delicious. It was almost as if he’d hired a private caterer and then shoved them out of the back door before people started arriving.

“You know, I didn’t think you meant it when you said you’d come.” A smooth voice knocked you out of your reverie, and you whirled around, hastily swallowing the lemonade when you noticed the familiar blonde that you’d befriended in uni.

“I didn’t think I did either if that makes a difference.” You replied, biting the inside of your cheek as Theo rolled his eyes, making his way around the kitchen island to place a couple of collected empty glasses near the sink.

“Well, are you having fun?” He asked, leaning back against the counter next to you, his shoulder judging yours teasingly.

You hummed, narrowing your eyes, “Not as much fun as when you crashed my Grandparents party and scared away the boy they tried to set me up with, let’s just leave it at that.” You breathed a laugh, swirling the lemonade in your cup as if it had suddenly become the most interesting thing.

“Oh, I haven’t had that much fun in ages.” He said, his attention turning to the other partygoers in the near vicinity, his eyebrow raising as he spotted someone trying to sneak one of his clocks into their bags without being caught. It didn’t work; they saw his gaze and turned a suspicious shade of red and pretended as if they’d simply been admiring the thing before walking away.

Theo cleared his throat, adjusting his tie.

“I think I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, his finger pointing in the direction of the culprit, an apologetic look in his eyes. You nodded, breathing a short laugh in understanding.

“I think I’m going to head out anyway—”

“Oh, please stay.” He held out a hand, silently begging for you to stay.

You hadn’t seen each other in at least a couple of months because of clashes with schedules, and it was getting to the point where the odd texts and phone calls and video calls were starting to feel more like a chore than a privilege. You had been close friends for the best part of ten years now, and you were still close, but adult life was more difficult than you expected trying to balance relationships and work.

You breathed in deeply, eyes flashing around the guests, accidentally catching the eye of Daniel and flicking your attention back to Theo hastily.

“I’ll stay for now but I’m going home in an hour, I have an early shift in the morning.” You promised, offering a small smile as Theo nodded, returning the gesture before disappearing into the throwing of people.

It wasn’t long before you were approached by an unfamiliar face. She was — like all the other people in the room — dressed nicely, and she stumbled slightly in her heels, almost running into you.

“Oh, shit, sorry about that.” She muttered, and you could smell the faint, bitter scent of alcohol on her breath, indicating that she wasn’t completely sober.

“Oh, it’s no problem.” You reassured, asking if she wanted something else to drink, seeing as though you were standing next to the drinks table and the fridge.

She shook her head, instead resuming Theo’s place against the counter next to you.

“Do you see that man over there?” She whispered, pointing her finger in the direction of the crowd out in the living area.

You furrowed your eyes, trying to lean slightly to make sure you could see who she was pointing at.

“I think you’re gonna have to be more specific because there’s about thirty people in that general direction.” You said, resisting the urge to laugh as the woman sighed, shuffling closer to the group and standing in her heeled tiptoes to see over the sea of heads.

“Okay, so he’s about 6 foot, brunette, curly hair…” she snuck a glance at you out of the corner of her eye to make sure you were trying to look out for the person she was talking about, “really fit and has an Italian nose.” She concluded.

You pursed your lips, suddenly feeling quite awkward in the presence of a stranger. You averted your eyes back to the pile of drinks on the kitchen island and halted your actions in searching for who could only be Daniel Ricciardo.

She noticed your reaction and gasped loudly, her hand flying to her mouth as if you just spilled the hottest gossip of the season.

“You know him.” She stated, stepping back slightly with an accusatory shine in her eyes.

“I don’t know him, I just know of him.” You lied, trying to brush the topic off as subtly as possible.

“Nuh-uh,” she said, taking your arm and ignoring the cry of protest from your lips as she dragged you away from the kitchen area and into the heart of the party, where the chatter was significantly louder, “I don’t believe that. You can introduce us.” She insisted.

You dug your heels into the floor as best as you could, trying to push away the wave of panic that surged through your veins.

“Lady,” you started, ripping your arm out of her iron grip, “I don’t know him.” You reiterated.

“If you don’t know him, how can you know of him?” She enquired snarkily, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow in your direction.

“How can you not know of him?” You returned, shrugging. Her face remained blank, and it occurred to you she really didn’t know who Daniel was. “That’s Daniel Ricciardo. Formula 1 driver for McLaren this year.” You told her, straightening out your blazer uncomfortably, unaware of the eyes on you from the other side of the room.

“Formula 1? So he’s, like…a millionaire?” She licked her lips,sultry eyes slipping over the crowd and fixating on who you assumed to be Daniel.

You cringed, resisting the urge to turn your nose up at her. You suddenly regretted telling her about his career because even a blind man could see that his money was the main thing on her mind at that moment in time.

You neglected from answering her question, instead trying to slink back to the kitchen, but you were interrupted by the scuffle of feet and the sound of something shattering before an obvious cry of pain was heard throughout the room, nearly drowned out in the volume of the music pumping from the speakers.

You swivelled back around, and several people had stepped away from the scene leaving an open gap in the crowd as more people gathered around to see what the kerfuffle was.

The girl had disappeared seemingly into thin air and you were about to take the moment of peace as an opportunity to leave, but Theo’s voice called your name over the crowd, laced with urgency.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, heart pounding with anxiety at the panic in his voice. You made your way to the crowd, apologising to people as you pushed your way through to get to the centre of all the attention.

As soon as you edged into Theo’s vision, he dragged you by the elbow into the centre, pointing to the person who’s cry of pain was heard over the music.

Blood was dripping from a deep gash in the palm of their hand, and the person in question looked a little pale, holding their hand up above their head, a permanent wince etched onto their face. Despite that, they looked rather uncomfortable with all the attention, and it was this that caused Theo to turn to the crowd and usher them away.

“I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.” Theo informed you, and you wasted no time in helping the injured person raise their arm higher above their head, guiding them through the crowd with a secure arm around their waist.

“A cut on my hand doesn’t hinder my ability to walk, okay?” They tried, shifting out of your grip.

“No, but if you pass out, it hinders my ability to patch you up.” You retorted, hurriedly passing your glass of lemonade back to Theo.

The person let a weak, sarcastic huff pass their lips, but they let you guide them to the bathroom, keeping an eye on the blood dripping down their arm and creeping into the sleeve of their blazer.

“Toilet or tub?” You asked, kicking the door shut behind you and casting a weary glance back at their hand.

“Depends on the context.” They answered.

You rolled your eyes, settling them on the toilet and quickly rifling through the sink cupboards, locating the first aid kit with ease.

“I’m gonna need you to take off your blazer.” You said, never imagining that you’d say those words to Daniel Ricciardo of all people.

Your relationship with Daniel was weird to say the least. You first met at — surprise, surprise — Theo’s party a few years ago. You’d gotten along swimmingly, perhaps a little bit too well, and it was safe to say he was incredibly charming and cursed with good looks. You were quite good friends, actually.

Until one day he pulled a face at you when you approached him at an award’s evening of some sort. You’d got no idea what happened to elicit such a negative reaction, or any idea on what you could have done, but he’d sneered at you and turned around, making conversation with the person next to you. He’d never explained why, but ever since that day he’d ignored you as much as possible, and it wasn’t exactly hard not to enjoy his company when he was so obviously disgusted with your presence.

Maybe it was the fact that you only managed to snag one piece of cake that night.

“You want a striptease? At least take me out for a date, first.” He muttered, pressing his lips together in obvious discomfort as he peeled his blazer off, being cautious of the blood. “I don’t even know why you’re bothering with this anyway, I’m fine.” He insisted.

You perched yourself on the edge of the bath, placing your bag on the tiled flooring and zipping open the first aid kit.

“Dan, you’re dripping blood…you’re clearly not fine.” You muttered, carefully rolling his shirt sleeve up past his elbow, ignoring the fact that this was the first time in a long time you’d been this close to him. Ignoring the fact that he looked positively fine in a suit, minus the blood.

He let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes and shifting uncomfortably under your touch.

You turned his hand over, assessed the gash and winced, trying to ignore the tingling, uncomfortable sensation mirrored on your own palm as your eyes ran over the gash. It ran the width of his palm, and it didn’t take a genius to notice that it was quite deep in some places.

“Can we please be quick?” He sighed, his other hand smoothing out non-existent creases in his dress trousers.

You hated to admit it, but his words stung.

“Can you at least pretend like you don’t hate me, for fifteen minutes at least?” You said, an unintentional fierceness to your tone, one that you’d tried your best to dial down in his presence, but it seemed to no avail.

“Only if you do the same.” He muttered, and you took the liberty of ignoring his comment, reaching to fish an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit, gently dabbing at the edges to clean off some blood so you could see the extent of the damage. You flexed his hand, ignoring his hiss of pain as the cut stretched slightly.

“What was that for?” He asked, his free hand slapping your hand as he fought to take his cut up hand out of your grip.

You opened your mouth in surprise, the skin on your own hand stinging slightly with the sudden contact.

“Don’t slap me! I’m trying to make sure you don’t have glass in it, you twat.” You said, shaking your head, “Which it doesn’t, by the way, so you’re welcome for checking.”

“How did you even know to check for glass?”

“Because there was broken glass on the floor?” You answered, applying pressure to the wound and lifting his hand a little higher again.

He huffed, turning his face away from you, so he was facing the wall, his lip curling into a sneer.

You rolled your eyes, “What did you mean when you said ‘only if you do the same’, anyway?” You murmured, keeping one hand on the wound and reaching to the floor to pick up your bag and unclip the front.

He narrowed his eyes, watching you root around in your bag for something, and he was about to say something, before he was interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.

“Everything ok in there? Everyone still alive?” Theo’s muffled voice echoed into the room.

“We’re fine.”

“Yeah.”

Daniel grimaced, brown eyes burning through the door as if he was trying to send a telepathic message to Theo through the door.

“Good.” Was all Theo said before the full sound of his shoes against the wooden veneers could be heard on the other side of the door.

You hummed in delight, producing the very thing you were originally looking for in your bag.

“Haribo?” Daniel asked, raising his brows expectantly.

“To get your blood sugar levels up, you’re still pale.” You answered, ripping open the packet, and just as you were about to pour the sweets into Daniel’s outstretched hand, you paused, recoiling.

“What?” He asked, noticeably frustrated that he wasn’t scoffing the sweets.

“Why don’t you like me?” You questioned, biting on the inside of your cheek anxiously as he stared straight at you, his face expressionless.

He was quiet for a while, and you almost told him to forget you even said anything because the simple question looked like it hit home, but he opened his mouth, quickly closing it again. He looked at you from behind furrowed brows, apparently confused by your question.

“Why don’t I like you?” He repeated the question. “Why don’t you like me?”

You gaped at him, your cheeks flushing with irritation at his words.

“I don’t—I never—” you sighed in frustration, the hand clutching the packet of Haribo clenching unconsciously as Daniel looked at you with mild concern, “Why the hell would you think I don’t like you?”

He blinked, casting his sights back to the wall, ignoring your eye contact.

“Theo told me you, and I quote, ‘hate me’,” he answered, swallowing roughly as you continued to stare at him.

His discomfort under your gaze brought a sick sense of satisfaction, but at the same time you were having difficulty wrapping your head around what he’d just admitted.

“Theo? My Theo?” You clarified, arching an eyebrow.

He nodded.

“When did he tell you that?” Your heart was starting to hammer in your rib cage, the power of which was almost painful to endure.

“When we went clubbing a while back,” he shrugged.

“Why would he—?” You muttered, before turning back to Daniel. “Are you sure he said that?”

“Positive.”

“So you’ve been so hostile towards me for months now, all because of something someone else said to you in a dark, loud club when you were — let’s face it — probably drunk?”

Daniel sucked in his cheeks, now realising how there would have been so many chances for misunderstanding in such an environment.

“Yes…” he replied, dragging the word out slowly, trying his best to take his mind off the way your grip on his wound was slowly increasing.

“I never said I hate—”

“So…you don’t not like me?” He interrupted, his eyes wide.

“No…Yes…I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer that, but I never hated you.” You said, ducking your head down at his intense glare, instead turning your attention back to his bleeding hand, carefully peeling off the gauze to take a peak. You suddenly remembered the scrunched up packet of Haribo still clutched in your grasp, and you shoved it in Daniel’s direction, not bothering to even look at him when he took it, humming quietly in thanks.

He didn’t know how to respond to that, the revelation sending his mind spinning about a hundred different directions.

He was mad at Theo, even if what happened wasn’t entirely his fault, but he was mostly mad at himself for not even bothering to try to talk to you and hash it out. The months he spent trying to ignore you were completely miserable, and the worst part is, he put you through hell without even giving you any reason, and all of that ignorance was not even worth it…that is, if what you said was true.

“Oh.” Was all he said, taking to watching you strap up his hand after telling him he (thankfully) didn’t need stitches, but he did need to rest it for a while, which was probably for the best because the F1 Summer Break was currently in full swing.

Once you’d put the soaked gauze in the bin and tidied everything away to how you’d arrived before the bloodbath ensued, you stood up, brushing nonexistent dirt off your dress, and offered Daniel a rather confused smile.

He bit his lip in thought, your eyes unconsciously zipping to his mouth, before steering your gaze back up to his eyes when he caught you, raising his eyebrow slightly, a pale shade of pink tinting his cheeks as he fought back a smirk.

You turned away, looking at the door, which was very much tempting you at that moment in time.

He cleared his throat once he’d noticed your attention flicker away from him, and it was only then he registered he practically craved you to be looking at him. Whenever he was at functions with Theo, he would always unknowingly search for you, even when he thought you hated his guts, he’d still scan the crowd of unfamiliar faces in the hopes that he’d see you again.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously, feeling your eyes on him. It was as if he’d suddenly melted into a teenager again right beneath your eyes. He cleared his throat again, sinking back against the toilet in an attempt to make himself smaller at the revelation he’d just arrived at.

It was weird, seeing him so shy when he was naturally such an outgoing character.

You found a part of your brain secretly admiring his flustering, but you quickly shut that down, reminding yourself that you shouldn’t be having those thoughts, especially since you’d just had to mop up a slice on his hand.

“I think I’m gonna go grab a drink and join the fray.” You said, hating the way your voice sounded so small against the echoing walls of the bathroom tiles.

Daniel snapped his eyes to yours, holding them intently, slightly alarmed at your words.

The last thing he wanted was for you to leave him; call it soppy, but he wanted to make up for lost time as soon as he possibly could, and he knew there would be very few opportunities considering both your careers were so demanding.

“Um…” he cleared his throat, “Yeah, I just want to say, thanks for all of this.” He gestured down to his hand, and you smiled.

“No problem. Just…stay away from broken glass for a bit and you should be fine.” You mumbled, words not registering in your brain as Daniel breathed a small laugh, looking utterly starstruck and sad at the same time.

“I’ll try my best.”

You offered one last smile, checking you still had your bag, and without another word you slipped out of the bathroom door, hearing the handle click behind you.

You could still hear the thumping remnants of the party in the next room, and without really caring who you bumped into along the way, you made a beeline for the kitchen, filling up a plastic wine glass with the nearest spirit and downing it as quickly as possible. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, immediately feeling guilty because of the early shift, and hurried to fill the glass back up with water, trying your best to dispel the effects of alcohol before they even had an impact.

It seemed to work.

Your head was spinning, unrelated to the liquids you’d just absorbed, but because of the bathroom fiasco that had just occurred only moments prior.

You were that caught up in your own thoughts, trying to separate fact from fiction and thought from feeling, that you completely missed the very brunette on your mind stride past the kitchen and into the living area, looking like a man on a mission as he tried to seek out Theo.

It didn’t take him long, he just had significantly more trouble trying to shake off a blonde that refused to let go of his arm, and he found Theo leant against a table, looking worn out, his mind absent from reality.

In the time it took for you to patch Daniel up, it looked as if Theo had faced a war and somehow escaped.

“You okay?” Daniel asked, hand clapping into Theo’s shoulder in an attempt to bring him back to reality.

He jumped, immediately relaxing when he registered just who was standing in front of him.

“I’m fine, but if that…person over there takes another step towards my Grandma, he’s not going to know what hit him.” He answered, finger pointing at a rather suspicious looking man.

“I don’t see a Grandma anywhere.” Daniel pointed out, slightly concerned.

Theo rolled his eyes, as if he’d had to answer the question a million times already, “She’s the purple one on the mantelpiece.” He muttered, taking a swig of whatever was in his glass.

Daniel nodded, feeling guilty for even bringing up the topic, but the completely detached behaviour from Theo was giving him a hard time in focusing on what he actually came over to do.

“Sorry about that, mate.” He apologised, breathing in deeply.

Theo shrugged.

“Anyway, does Y/N still have the same phone number or did she change it?” Daniel questioned, attempting to pretend like the question wasn’t that big of a deal by shrugging and avoiding making eye contact with Theo, but the raise of the eyebrow and curious, piercing blue stare proved that his attempt was futile.

“I knew you still liked her.” Theo chuckled.

“Am I that transparent?” Daniel quipped, pressing his lips together in a tight line.

“Only for me.” Theo grinned, patting Daniel’s cheek.

Daniel pulled a face, swiping Theo’s hand away.

“But no, she’s still got the same number. Why’d you ask?”

Daniel shrugged, already backing away, attention flickering around the room, once again searching for something — the action of which didn’t go unnoticed by Theo, who positively cackled inside, “Just curious.”

“If curious means ‘I-fucked-up-with-a-really-good-person-big-time-and-I-need-to-make-it-up-somehow-before-I-ask-her-out-for-real-this-time-instead-of-practicing-it-in-the-mirror’, then, whatever you say.”

“That was ages ago!”

“People don’t forget!” Theo yelled, smirking in triumph as Dan disappeared around the corner, no doubt searching for you.

You were sitting on the cold, stone steps outside the apartment building, your phone in your hand and debating whether or not to call a taxi or walk home before it gets too dark.

Your thumb was hovering over the call button to your local taxi when the building doors slammed open, the sound of shoes slapping against the concrete as a tall figure leapt down the last three steps, running a hand through their curls in frustration as they looked left, then right, and sighed, reaching into their jacket pocket to produce their phone.

You couldn’t see their face, only the back of their head, but you’d recognise that figure anywhere.

You looked down, your heart stuttering at the sudden buzzing of the phone in your hand.

You narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to laugh at the hilarity of the situation, and answered the call, lifting the phone up to your ear, your eyes fixated on the pacing figure on the pavement, watching him from your spot at the top corner of the stairs.

“Hello?” The person asked, sounding a bit breathless through the phone.

“Hi.”

“It’s Daniel...Ricciardo.” He winced at his own awkwardness.

“I know. You’re still saved in my contacts.”

“I am?” He replied, tone laced with shock.

You were almost embarrassed to admit that you’d held onto a little shred of hope in thinking he’d eventually get over himself, “You had a paddy with me, remember?”

“About that, I’m really sorry. Like, really, really, really,really, really—”

“I get the idea.” You sighed.

“No, I don’t think you understand how sorry I am for it. It was so insanely stupid of me to stop talking to you because of something I thought I heard in a club — a fucking club of all places — without even thinking of talking to you—”

“Why didn't you talk to me?”

He was silent for a while, and you noticed he’d halted his pacing on the pavement. “I know it sounds like I’m making up excuses, but I really thought you hated my guts, and that...it hurt because I kind of had a bit of a crush on you and I pushed you away because I think a subconscious part of my mind thought that if I did that then it would be better in the long run because I wouldn’t be so attached to you if something went weird later on.” He explained, his voice lowering and quieting towards the end, as if he’d just understood what he didn’t understand.

“That’s...a lot to unpack.” You murmured, noticing the way his shoulders had slumped.

“Yeah...we don’t have to do it right now, though.”

“No, I agree, I think we’d need a nicer place to sort though our emotional struggles than outside Theo’s apartment building.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit weird — what?” He caught himself, spinning around on his heels.

You offered a shy wave once he’d tilted his head in your direction, realising you’d been watching him talk to you the entire time.

“I was looking for you.” He said once he’d hung up the phone, meeting you halfway on the steps.

“Why?��

“Can I walk you home?” He resorted to asking.

_____

The journey home took about twice as long as it usually would, and by the time you’d both made it onto your street, night was beginning to creep through, the sky changing to a darker blue, street lamps beginning to turn on.

The conversation flowed remarkably easily, albeit there was a noticeable hesitance in dancing around that subject, but you pretended not to notice it, and you had a feeling Daniel was trying to do the same.

He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, almost disbelieving of that fact that you were in front of him, even after what he’d put you through, and he had to keep catching himself to ensure you didn’t notice him looking.

You did.

“So, how are you feeling about going back after the Summer Break?”

He stifled a smile, “I don’t know why, but I have a really good feeling about going back. You know what? It has to be those Haribo’s.” He breathed a laugh.

“What? I hand out magic Haribo?” You smirked, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Yep.”

“No.”

“You say that now, but you’ll take it back when I get a podium.”

“When you do win, just don’t go around telling everyone about my magic Haribo.”

“Oh, the Haribo are reserved for me and for me only. It won’t have the same effect if you give some to Lando.”

“I’ll just take your word for it, I guess.”

You breathed a laugh, coming to a halt on the pavement, the familiar house standing to your left.

Daniel looked up.

“I thought you had a Fiesta?” He asked, pointing to the blue Hyaundi parked on the driveway.

“I’m sorry, is my car not up to the standard you’re used to?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow teasingly in his direction.

“Oi, I’ll have you know that I learnt to drive in a — I can’t even remember what model it was, but I do remember having to really press down on the brake…and the air con was broken.” He defended, throwing his hands up as if to say he was surrendering.

You bit your lip, “I learnt to drive in a Mercedes.”

His reaction was priceless.

“A Mercedes? You learnt to drive in a—wow.”

“It was just the company car, I didn’t really have a choice.”

“Still…wow.” He paused, feet tapping the pavement agitatedly, “I have a proposal.”

You met his eyes, unable to help feeling slightly anxious by the prospect.

“Go on.” You encouraged, crossing your arms tightly.

“If I win a GP…wait—can we make a deal?” He asked, throwing his hand out.

You nodded.

“If I win a GP, I get to take you on a date.” He offered, raising one eyebrow but somehow maintaining eye contact.

“But…what’s in it for me?” You smirked.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “That’s so rude…but, okay…I take you to Monza, and if—when I win a GP, I get to take you out. For my own sake, I’m gonna pretend like I will win one because I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t.”

“You’ll win one.” You stated simply, shrugging.

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“Because you’re Daniel Ricciardo, when have you ever not been successful in a car?” You asked, pulling a face as if it was obvious from the get-go.

Daniel didn’t say anything after that. He just sort of looked at you, twisting his mouth up in thought. You couldn’t tell what was going through his mind at that moment in time, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to believe your words.

“You really believe that?” He finally said, a hint of what sounded like insecurity laced in his tone.

“You don’t?” You shot back, your heart breaking slightly at his demeanour.

“I never left.” He mumbled under his breath, turning away from you slightly with furrowed brows, seemingly having a conversation with himself.

You knew those words would stick around in your mind for a long time.

But there was something so addictive about ‘Daniel Ricciardo wins the 2021 Italian Grand Prix’.

#daniel ricciardo #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #driver x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo oneshot #mclaren #daniel ricciardo x reader #enemies to lovers #f1 fanfiction #fluff #angst

479 notes · View notes