#I remember that night like it was yesterday I was going to pass out.
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kyouka-supremacy · 7 months ago
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Happy one year anniversary bsd chapter 107 chapter of all time
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Chapter 107 sskk moodboard made exclusively out of the reactions from my activity page. Glad to see everyone has been coping well
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okay-babe · 10 months ago
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Mothering
tags: alastor x fem! reader, suggestive themes, allusions to sex, alastor and reader are married, domestic bliss, Husk and Angel are tortured by your love for each other.
It was a rather quiet morning, one that had become almost typical of the hotel in the quickly passing months, and Angel watched as, like usual, the Radio Demon began to walk swiftly from the stairwell to the front doors.
Although, this time, there was a notable interruption to the sinner's routine.
"Al, wait!"
You called in an almost panicked sounding tone, bounding down the stairs in only your night gown, an object that Angel couldn't quite make out in hand.
Immediately, Alastor halted where he stood, his neck turning before the rest of his body to watch as you rushed over to him, cheeks flushed from your run down to the lobby.
The demon raised a brow at you curiously, but with a marked lack of exasperation that must have come from that store of patience he reserved just for you, and you smiled sheepishly as you held up a small shimmering band.
"You forgot this."
You said, tone almost nervous sounding as you continued your approach in spite of the painfully obvious adoration written all over the Radio Demon's face.
Immediately, Alastor looked down toward his left hand in surprise, his eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight of his barren ring finger before he looked back to you and smiled one of those gentle soft things he once again only seemed to reserve for you.
"Ah, why thank you, my dear."
He all but purred, eyes lighting up as you grew ever closer until he could finally offer his hand to you in the way you so clearly desired.
You grinned happily at the gesture and reached forward with the ring in hand as the sinner spoke up again,
"I couldn't fathom going a day without it."
You blushed at that, eyes diverting swiftly for a moment before they moved almost instinctively back to Alastor, watching his pleased expression as you slid his wedding ring back onto his waiting finger.
You stared at him for a few seconds, as if enthralled by the very vision of him in spite of the fact that you quite literally woke up to the man every morning, until finally you snapped yourself out of it with a slightly embarrassed clearing of your throat.
"Well, I'm quite sure you could manage if you had to."
You said softly, voice slightly higher in pitch than usual as your husband bent down, the already raised left side of his mouth curling upward further in an amused smirk at the sight of your pink cheeks and slightly nervous body language.
He'd had this effect on you in life as well, but it seemed he'd never tire of seeing it, even after so very long.
"Manage, certainly, but I'm not sure I would want to without the reminder of my darling wife back home."
He drawled, his now decorated left hand reaching up to palm your cheek and his eyes scanning you with a chuckle as you all but melted into his touch, always so very receptive to his affections whenever he was willing to offer them.
Suddenly though, your eyes widened, and you broke away with a gasp, your gaze shifting down to Alastor's hands only to find them empty.
"Al, did you remember to grab the organs I prepared for Rosie yesterday evening?"
You asked, immediately causing Angel and Husk over by the bar to flinch in response.
Had it been a surprise that the Radio Demon's wife was a little bit too comfortable with cannibalism? Not nearly as surprising as it was that the overlord had a wife in the first place, but still, it certainly hadn't been anticipated that you would be so handy with a boning knife.
The deer demon standing in front of you let out a soft hum of surprise before he shook his head, straightening back out to his full height with one arm crossed over the other.
"Silly me, it appears I'd nearly forgotten."
He replied, tone colored with amusement as you immediately set off toward the kitchen before the man could even finished, returning shortly thereafter with a rather large container of something your observers would rather not think too hard about.
"Well count yourself lucky I felt up to the chase this morning, beau."
You teased as you set the tub down on an end table nearby so you could approach your husband once more, straightening out his tie and fussing over his hair for a few moments as the demon simply stood still beneath your attentions, smile both amused and contented all at once.
You looked up at him after a few moments, eyes softening slightly at the sight of his expression as your hands moved to brush some invisible lint off his chest.
"You know, it isn't like you to be so forgetful, Al."
You began gently, hands working to smooth out a few barely there wrinkles in the demon's shirt.
"I'm beginning to worry that your age is getting to you."
Your tone was far too teasing to ever be misconstrued as serious as you spoke, stepping away slightly to admire your handiwork only to be stopped by a tug at your wrist as Alastor moved to pull you close once more.
"Is that so?"
He purred, tone still just as amused as before as he flipped your teasing back on you tenfold,
"Well then darling, I suppose I'll have to remind you of just how spry I can be upon my return."
His voice lowered slightly as he said this, and instantly your cheeks felt hot and your eyes widened slightly beneath your husband's heavy gaze.
Desperate to change the subject before your (rather unwelcome) background audience caught on or made any commentary, you quickly cleared your throat again before giving a nervous laugh.
"Sure thing old man, whatever you say."
You said halfheartedly, watching as the Radio Demon's eyes grew darker at your unintentional challenge.
And at that, you were quick to switch topics.
"O-oh!"
You began, eyes roving aimlessly for something else to talk about before they finally fell to the unused coat rack in the corner of the room.
"Are you sure you won't be needing a coat, Al? I'd hate for you to catch a cold..."
You said nervously, hands wringing together as your husband watched you with sheer amusement and something slightly heavier behind his eyes, his mouth opening as if to reply only for him to be cut off by a voice from another part of the room.
"Babe, I love ya and all, but this is gettin' ridiculous!"
Angel cried out in exasperation,
"We're in hell, for cryin' out loud! Yer husband is a demon overlord who owns enough souls to be considered a large business owner! He's not gonna get cold out there!"
You gave another nervous laugh in response to Angel's rambling,
"But-"
"Nu uh, no buts Toots, now say goodbye to ol' tall, dark, and creepy before you start actin' like his motha' again."
Angel interrupted, immediately causing you to let out a huff of indignation, turning around to face your friend where he sat at the bar,
"I am NOT acting like his mother."
You insisted, attitude faltering a bit when you noted the rather amused expression that your comrades were wearing, informing you that you were likely making a slight fool of yourself.
"I-I'm not..."
You trailed off quietly, cheeks warm with embarrassment even as you felt a familiar clawed hand drop down upon your shoulder in a manner that was no doubt meant to be soothing.
Though, the next words out of your husband's mouth, in spite of his actions, most certainly were not.
"Not to worry, cher."
He purred, pulling you back against him gently so you could feel the warmth of his chest upon your back and the curl of his smile against your helix, a sensation which immediately caused you to shiver.
"If they wish to see you as a mother, I will happily oblige."
Your blush deepened at that, eyes widening as you desperately tried to ignore the shocked looks of your peers in favor of trying to focus on keeping your head straight instead as Alastor stepped away once more, the casualness of his attitude a stark contrast to his previous words.
"Oh dear, would you look at the time. I really must be going."
He said, a teasing lilt to his voice that was all too easy to hear coming through as he checked his wrist for a watch he wasn't actually wearing before leaning forward to press an exaggerated kiss to your forehead.
"I'll be seeing you later, darling." He drawled with that trademark grin of his as he approached the door, one clawed hand reaching to pull it open before he finally stepped out.
That is, until a few seconds later, when his head popped back in again.
"Oh, and do keep well hydrated, dear heart! I would hate to endure a repeat of the last time you called my spryness into question."
Alastor looked far too pleased with himself as he spoke for you to even bother attempting to rebuke him, and but a moment later he was gone, off to see Rosie with a well adorned ring finger and a large container of organs in hand.
"WHAT DID HE SAY?!"
Angel cried, still clearly stuck on your husband's mothering comment from earlier as you sighed and approached the bar, an apologetic look on your face as you glanced toward Husk.
"Can I just get a water please?"
You muttered sheepishly, immediately causing the bartender to groan and bury his face in his hand, his disappointment in your immense lack of shame obvious, but truly, what else had he expected?
Had he met your husband?
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harrysfolklore · 2 months ago
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casual - ln4
summary: you’re in a situationship with lando norris, one that you know is going to break your heart, but you can’t seem to walk away. wc: 11.7k
folkie radio: i was about to scrap this entire fic bc i just didn’t like they way it was turning out but i finished it 😭 i’m still not really confident about it but i hope you enjoy it. disclaimer: this is angsty !!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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You and Lando. Lando and You. An undefined space, more than friends, less than a relationship. You remember it like it was yesterday, though almost a year has passed.
It started innocently enough. As a data analyst and strategist for McLaren, you often found yourself working late nights, poring over race statistics and performance metrics. Lando would sometimes wander into the office, restless after a day of simulations and meetings.
At first, your interactions were purely professional - discussing tire degradation rates or fuel consumption patterns. But gradually, conversations began to drift, getting more personal and personal.
The shift happened subtly. One night, after a particularly grueling race weekend, you were both exhausted, sprawled on the office couch analyzing data. Lando's head drooped onto your shoulder, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air crackled with tension.
"We shouldn't," you murmured, even as you turned to face him.
"Probably not," Lando agreed, his blue eyes flickering to your lips.
The kiss was inevitable, months of built-up attraction finally finding release. And then came another, and another.
When Lando suggested heading back to his place, you found yourself saying yes without hesitation.
Before you knew it, you were in his apartment, you could feel the tension in the air. Lando stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek.
"I've been wanting to do this for a while," he murmured, before leaning in to kiss you again.
Clothes were shed as you made your way to his bedroom, falling onto his bed in a tangle of limbs.
The next morning, sunlight streams through unfamiliar curtains, and you blink awake, momentarily disoriented. Lando's sleeping form beside you brings the memories of last night flooding back.
Lando stirs, his blue eyes meeting yours. "Morning," he mumbles, a shy smile playing on his lips. "So... that happened."
You nod, unsure of what to say. "It did."
An awkward silence stretches between you, the weight of the previous night settling in. You would be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy it. You did. You enjoyed it a lot. But you knew the implications of getting close with someone like Lando Norris.
"Look, Iast night was great," finally, Lando speaks. "But my life, my career... it's complicated."
"I understand," you reply, trying to hide the embarrassment on your face, "I mean, we're work colleges after all, it's complicated for me too."
"I'm not saying I regret this," he quickly adds, "I just... I can't offer you something else right now."
You take a deep breath, weighing your options. "So what are you offering?"
"Honestly? I don't know," Lando runs a hand through his tousled hair, "But I'd like to keep seeing you, if you're okay with... not defining things?"
And so begins, your undefined journey with Lando Norris. From that moment, your relationship existed in a grey area. At work, you maintained professionalism, but stolen glances, brushed hands and the way your clothes always ended up in his bedroom floor told a different story.
You know it's not ideal, to have a situationship with Lando Norris. Not when you know you could really fall for him and jeopardize your job. But at the same time, you can't walk away.
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You love you job so much, and the fact that you're willing to shut the rest of the world away in order to focus on what you needed to do proved it.
As the Japanese Grand Prix weekend unfolded, you found yourself buried in work. The Suzuka circuit always presented challenges, and you were determined to give the team every advantage possible.
You were so engrossed in your data analysis that you barely noticed Lando enter the temporary office setup. His hand on your shoulder made you jump.
"Christ, Lando! You scared me," you exclaimed, pulling off your headphones.
He grinned, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. "Come with me," he said, taking your hand and gently pulling you up.
"Lando, I'm in the middle of-"
"It can wait," he insisted, leading you out of the office and towards his driver's room.
Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against it, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race.
"I miss you," he said simply.
You felt a pang of guilt. It had been weeks since you'd had any real time alone together. "I've been busy," you replied, trying to keep your tone light.
"Busy doing what?" Lando raised an eyebrow.
"Coming up with strategies so you can win races, actually," you retorted, a hint of challenge in your voice.
"Oh really? And how's that going?" he stepped closer, a teasing glint in his eye.
"Well, if you'd stop distracting me," you tilted your chin up defiantly, "Maybe I could finish and you'd find out."
Lando chuckled, closing the distance between you. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him. "Maybe I like distracting you," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
You shivered involuntarily. "Lando..." you warned, but there was no real resistance in your voice.
"Tell me about these strategies," he said, his lips now trailing along your jawline. "How are you planning to make me faster?"
You struggled to maintain your train of thought as his touch sent sparks through your body. "Well," you managed, "I've been analyzing your cornering speeds and-"
Lando cut you off with a kiss, deep and passionate. When he pulled away, you were both breathless.
"Sorry," he grinned, not looking sorry at all. "You were saying?"
"You're impossible, you know that?"
Before he can even reply, you drag him for another kiss. His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer, your hands slid under his team shirt, tracing the lean muscles of his back.
When you broke apart, Lando's eyes were dark with desire.
"I thought I was the one who distracted you. Seems like you're just as needy as I am," he smirked, his voice low and teasing.
"Don't flatter yourself, Norris," you felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but matched his playful tone, "I'm just... thorough in my research."
Lando's laugh was warm against your neck as he pressed a kiss there. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
"We're not calling it a relationship, aren't we?" you blurted out before you could even think about it.
Lando's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. But quickly, his trademark grin returned.
"Well, we're not calling it a relationship," he said, his tone light and teasing, "maybe we should call it a 'performance enhancement program'. You know, for the sake of the team."
You couldn't help but laugh, even as you felt a twinge in your chest at the casual deflection of the relationship topic. "Oh, is that what this is? And here I thought I was just your favorite data analyst."
"Oh, you definitely are," Lando murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "The very best at... analyzing my data."
You rolled your eyes at the innuendo but smiled despite yourself. "As tempting as it is to continue this 'program'," you said, gently pushing him back, "I really do need to get back to work. Those race strategies won't write themselves, you know."
"Fine, fine. Go make me faster on paper. But don't forget, I might need some hands-on analysis later."
"We'll see about that, hotshot," you replied, straightening your clothes and heading for the door. "Focus on your qualifying first."
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It's late, well past midnight, when your phone buzzes with a text. You're still up, reviewing data from the day's practice sessions. The message is from Lando, of course.
"Room 507. Now. Please?"
You can't help but smile, imagining the impatience and desire behind those words. You type back:
"Demanding, aren't we? What if I'm busy?"
His reply comes quickly: "Busy with what? I know you're probably still working. Take a break. You deserve it.”
You laugh softly. "I deserve it, huh? Well, when you put it that way..."
"So you're coming?"
You pause, pretending to consider it, even though you both know you're already reaching for your room key. "I suppose I could spare a few minutes."
"There's my girl"
You slip out of your room, heart racing with anticipation. You've done this countless of times before, sneaking out of your hotel room to end up naked in Lando's, but you still felt like a teenage girl every single time.
The hotel corridor is quiet, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. You're so focused on reaching Lando's room that you almost collide with someone rounding the corner.
"Whoa, sorry!" You step back, then freeze as you realize it's Oscar, who looks equally surprised.
"Oh, hey. Bit late for a walk, isn't it?"
Your mind races, searching for a plausible excuse. "I, uh... couldn't sleep. Thought I'd grab some ice."
"Ice?" Oscar's brow furrows slightly, "At this hour?"
"Yeah, you know... for my water," you say lamely, cringing at how unconvincing you sound. "Helps me... think better. For work."
"Right," Oscar says slowly, clearly not buying it but too polite to press further. "Well, don't let me keep you from your... ice-enhanced thinking."
You force a laugh. "Thanks. Goodnight, Oscar."
As you hurry past him, you can feel his curious gaze on your back. You silently pray he doesn't mention this encounter to anyone else on the team.
One of the main reasons why you agreed to mess around with Lando without a label was exactly that, the fear of putting your job at risk. You worked hard for it, and you would never forgive yourself if you lost it due to getting in a relationship with one of the drivers.
Which lead you to getting in a goddamn situationship.
Finally reaching room 507, you knock softly. Lando opens the door almost immediately, pulling you inside with a grin.
"Took you long enough," he teases, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"Yeah, well, I just had to convince your teammate that I'm wandering the halls at 1 AM in search of ice. So thanks for that," you retort, but there's no real annoyance in your voice.
"You ran into Oscar?" Lando's eyes widen, "What did you tell him?"
"That I needed ice. For thinking."
"Ice for thinking?" he bursts out laughing. "That's the best you could come up with?"
"Hey, you try coming up with a believable excuse on the spot!" you protest, swatting his arm playfully.
"Fair enough," Lando concedes, still chuckling. "Now, where were we? I believe you were going to help me with some... performance analysis?"
As Lando leans in, your lips meet in a passionate kiss. The tension that's been building all day finally releases as you melt into his embrace. His hands roam your body, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.
"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
"Oh really?" you tease, running your fingers through his hair. "I thought you were supposed to be focusing on your lap times."
"Who says I can't do both?"
Lando's lips find your neck, trailing kisses along your jawline. You tilt your head back, a soft sigh escaping your lips. Your hands slide under his t-shirt, tracing his sides.
He guides you towards the bed, your bodies pressed close together. As the back of your knees hit the mattress, you fall back, pulling Lando with you. He hovers over you, his weight supported on his forearms.
"You're beautiful," he whispers, his eyes roaming your face.
You reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him down for another kiss. This one is slower, deeper, filled with unspoken emotions.
As things heat up, clothes start to come off. Lando's shirt is the first to go, followed quickly by yours. Skin meets skin, and the world narrows down to just the two of you, lost in each other's touch.
The night stretches on, filled with whispered words, soft moans, and the rustle of sheets. You can't help but think that this undefined thing with Lando is getting more complicated by the day but you decide that's a problem for future you to worry about.
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After an exhausting triple header across three different countries, you finally have a well-deserved two-week break.
The past few races have been grueling, with long nights analyzing data and strategizing for each track. While you love your job, the intense schedule has left you drained. Now back home, you decide it's time to unwind and have some fun with your friends.
It's Friday evening, and you're getting ready for a girls' night out. Usually, you’d spend your Friday with Lando, but this time you were dying for a chance to let loose, dance with your friends and forget about work for a while. 
And maybe, forget about your little situationship, too.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say. Because as if on cue your phone starts buzzing with an incoming FaceTime call. Lando's name flashes on the screen.
You answer, propping the phone up on your dresser. "Hey, Lan," you greet him while still doing your makeup.
"Hey, you," he replies, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your appearance. "Wow, you look hot. Are you going somewhere?"
You nod, turning back to the mirror to continue applying your eyeshadow. "Yep, heading out tonight. It's been ages since I've had a proper night out."
"Oh," Lando says, his tone curious. "Like, out out? Are you... um, going on a date or something?"
You can't help but smirk a little at his barely concealed interest. "Why, Lando Norris, are you fishing for information?" you tease. "I mean, I could be going on a date. We're not exclusive, after all."
Lando's expression falters for a moment before he catches himself, forcing a casual laugh. "No, no, of course not. I was just, you know, curious. Making conversation and all that."
You watch him in the phone screen, noticing how he's trying to play it cool but failing miserably. His jaw is tense, and he's fidgeting more than usual.
Taking pity on him, you decide to put him out of his misery. "Relax, Lando. It's just girls' night. After that triple header, I need to blow off some steam with my friends."
"Oh, right. Cool, cool," the relief on his face is palpable, "That sounds fun."
"Were you jealous, Norris?" you raise an eyebrow at him.
"Me? Jealous? Nah," he scoffs, but the slight blush creeping up his neck betrays him. "I mean, like you said, we're not... you know."
"Exclusive," you finish for him, feeling a familiar twinge in your chest at the word.
"Right," Lando nods, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Anyway, I hope you have a great time tonight. You deserve it after all the hard work these past few weeks."
"Thanks, Lan. I plan to."
"Call me if you need me to pick you up," Lando assures, making you smile softly. Maybe he actually cares about you, you think.
"Don't worry, I can handle myself."
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Just as Lando was expecting, you call him around 2 AM, asking if he could come pick you up from the club.
He doesn’t think twice before he’s getting up, putting a hoodie on and grabbing his keys to leave the house.
His car pulls up outside the club about 15 minutes later. You make your way to the vehicle, sliding into the passenger seat with a giggle.
"Thanks for coming," you say, leaning towards him with a grin.
“Of course, love,” Lando looks you over, a playful smirk on his face. "Looks like someone had fun tonight."
“I did, but I missed you,” you say as he starts driving, you’re not sure if he’ll take you to your place or his, but you don’t want to sleep without him, "Oh! I have to tell you something,"
"Well do tell," he encourages, glancing at you with interest.
"There was this guy at the club," you begin, noticing how Lando's eyebrow quirks up. "He was really handsome, and he was flirting with me."
"Was he now?" Lando asks, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something else.
"Yup," you say, popping the 'p' sound. "I pushed him away. Because even though you might not be my boyfriend, I only want you. No one else."
Lando's lips curl into a pleased smile. "Is that so?" he says, his voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was just your favorite Uber driver."
You burst into laughter, the sound filling the car. Then, feeling bold, you place your hand on his thigh. "Will you sleep with me tonight?"
Lando doesn't even flinch. Instead, he shoots you a mischievous look. "Just like that? Usually, I at least buy you dinner first."
You groan, moving your hand from his thigh but he quickly catches it and kisses your palm before resting it there again, “Of course I’ll stay with you, baby.”
As you arrive home, Lando helps you inside, his arm steady around your waist. You stumble a bit, giggling as you lean into him.
"Careful there," he says, "Let's get you sorted, shall we?"
He guides you to the kitchen, one hand on the small of your back. You hop onto a barstool, watching as he moves around your kitchen with surprising familiarity.
"Let's get some water in you," he says, filling a large glass. "And maybe some food too. When's the last time you ate?"
You scrunch your nose, trying to remember. "Um... before we went out? I think?"
Lando shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "No wonder you're in this state. Drink this," he hands you the water, "and I'll make you a sandwich."
You sip the water obediently, watching him as he rummages through your fridge. "You don't have to do all this, you know," you say softly.
"I want to," he looks up at you, his eyes soft. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"
As you finish your water, he slides a plate with a sandwich in front of you. "Eat up, pretty girl. It'll help sober you up."
You take a bite, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. As you eat, Lando leans against the counter, watching you with amusement and something else you can't quite name.
"So," he says casually, "tell me about this handsome guy at the club."
You swallow your bite, looking up at him. "Jealous, Norris?"
"Just curious," he shrugs, a smirk playing at his lips. "You said you pushed him away?"
You nod, setting down the sandwich. "I did. He was nice, but... he wasn't you."
The words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's eyes sparkle, but he doesn't say anything.
You slide off the barstool and step closer to him. Your hands find his chest and you lean in, pressing your lips to his. He kisses back, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol.
But then Lando pulls away gently, resting his forehead against yours. "Let's go to sleep, pretty girl," he says, his voice low and a bit rough. "You need rest."
You pout, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "But I want you," you whisper, leaning in so your lips are inches from his.
"And you can have me," he says softly, cupping your face with one hand. "But right now we're going to sleep."
You start to protest, but he silences you with a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Come on, let's get you to bed."
As he leads you to the bedroom, Lando's mind is in turmoil. He's acutely aware of the growing feelings he has for you - feelings that go far beyond the casual arrangement you've had so far. The way his heart races when you're near, the constant urge to make you smile, the fierce protectiveness he feels - it all points to something deeper, that both thrills and terrifies him.
But with these feelings comes a familiar fear. Commitment has always been hard for him. The demands of his career, the pressure of the public eye, the fear of letting someone down - they all contribute to his hesitation. And yet, as he looks at you now, soft and vulnerable in his arms, he can't help but wonder if you might be worth the risk.
In the bedroom, he helps you change into comfortable sleepwear. As you both lay down, you curl into his side, your head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart is soothing, and you feel yourself starting to drift off.
"Lando?" you ask, your voice sleepy.
"Hmm?" His hand is running through your hair, the gesture comforting.
"Do you push away the beautiful girls that come up to flirt with you? Like I did tonight?"
You feel his chest rise with a deep breath. There's a pause before he answers, "I do," he says softly. "There's only one girl I'm interested in."
You lift your head slightly, trying to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Really? Who's that?"
He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I think you know, pretty girl."
You're fighting sleep now, but you're determined to get an answer. "Well, I don't believe you," you mumble, the words slurring together. "Prove it."
Lando opens his mouth to reply, but he realizes you're already asleep, your breathing evening out. He looks down at you, a fond smile on his face. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, he whispers, "Maybe I'll show you soon."
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The Hungarian Grand Prix has just concluded, and the atmosphere in the McLaren garage is torn between elation and tension.
Oscar has claimed his first Formula 1 victory, a monumental achievement for him and the team. However, the circumstances of his win have left a bitter taste in Lando's mouth, casting a shadow over what should have been a moment of pure celebration for everyone.
You're standing off to the side, your mind racing. The strategy call wasn't yours directly, but as part of the team, you can't help feeling partly responsible for the decision that affected both drivers.
As Lando storms into the garage, his face like thunder, you brace yourself for the fallout. His usual easy-going demeanor is nowhere to be seen, replaced by a storm of anger and disappointment. You've seen Lando upset before, but this felt different.
"Lando," you start, reaching out to him, your voice soft and tentative.
"Save it," he snaps, his blue eyes flashing with anger as he brushes past you. The coldness in his voice makes you flinch. "I don't want to hear it. Not from you, not from anyone."
For the rest of the day, Lando avoids you like the plague. You take separate flights home so you don't really see him or hear from him after you left the circuit.
Over the next few days, you try reaching out via text, each message more desperate than the last. But they go unanswered, each 'read' receipt another twist of the knife. This isn't like Lando, to shut everyone out so completely. You can't help but wonder if this is about more than just the race.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you decide to go to his place. It's a risky move, you know, but the thought of leaving things like this is unbearable. Using the spare key he gave you months ago - a gesture that had felt so significant at the time - you let yourself in.
The apartment is quiet, but not empty. You can feel his presence, sense the tension in the air.
"Lando?" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the silent space.
You hear movement from his bedroom, and soon enough he emerges, dressed to go out, and freezes when he sees you. His expression hardens, the warmth you're used to seeing in his eyes replaced by a cold, distant look. "What are you doing here?"
"We need to talk, Lando," you say, your voice firm despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "You can't just shut me out like this. It's not fair, and it's not right."
"I don't have time for this right now," Lando's jaw clenches, his gaze darting away from yours, "I'm heading out."
"Of course you are," you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice. "Because going out and partying is so much easier than facing your problems, isn't it?"
His eyes narrow, a spark of anger igniting, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're running away," you say, taking a step closer. "From the race, from the team, from me. We're all just trying to do our best, Lando. The team made a call, and it worked out for the best. Why can't you see that?"
"Because it wasn't the best for me!" Lando explodes, his composure finally cracking. "Do you have any idea what it's like? To have victory in your grasp and then have it taken away? To be told that you're not good enough, that your teammate is the better choice?"
"That's not what happened, and you know it," you argue back, your own frustration bubbling over. "It was a strategic decision, not a judgment on your abilities. You're letting your ego cloud your judgment."
"My ego?" Lando's laugh is harsh and humorless, "That's rich, coming from someone who's never had to make these kinds of sacrifices."
The words hang in the air between you, sharp and cutting. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. You's never had an argument like this before.
"Fine," you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. "Go out if that's what you want. But don't call me when you're feeling lonely later tonight. I'm not just some convenient comfort for when you decide you need me."
Something flashes in Lando's eyes – hurt, perhaps, or regret. But it's quickly replaced by a hardness that makes your heart ache.
"Don't worry," he retorts, his voice cold. "I can always find another girl to keep me company. I don't need you for that."
The words hit you like a physical blow, and you take an involuntary step back. The undefined nature of your relationship, once thrilling in its potential, now feels like a weapon being used against you.
"Is that what this is to you?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just a convenient arrangement? Someone to warm your bed when you can't find anyone else?"
Lando's expression softens for a moment, regret flickering across his features. But he doesn't take back his words. Instead, he turns away, his hand on the front door.
"You know your way out." And with that, he's out of the door.
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A week later, Formula 1 has moved to the iconic Spa-Francorchamps circuit in Belgium. The air is thick with anticipation - not just for the upcoming race, but for the looming summer break that follows.
You've thrown yourself into your work, burying your emotions under a mountain of data analysis and strategy planning. The tension between you and Lando hasn't gone unnoticed by the team, but thankfully, everyone's too focused on the upcoming race to pry.
You haven't spoke to Lando after your argument at his place, and you blocked his number, leaving him unable to contact you.
As you make your way through the paddock, your arms full of printouts and your mind racing with tire degradation calculations, you spot a familiar figure approaching. Lando, clad in his McLaren team shirt, is walking purposefully in your direction. Your heart rate spikes, and you quickly duck into a nearby hospitality area, pretending to be engrossed in conversation with a group of engineers.
This dance continues throughout the day. Lando tries to catch your eye during the team briefing, but you keep your gaze fixed on your tablet. He lingers near your station in the garage, but you find urgent errands that take you elsewhere. It's exhausting, this game of cat and mouse, but you're not ready to face him - not yet.
As the day winds down, you're making your final rounds, double-checking that everything is set for tomorrow's practice sessions. The paddock is quieter now, most team members having retired for the evening.
You're so focused on your checklist that you don't notice the approaching footsteps until it's too late.
"We need to talk," Lando's voice, firm and tinged with frustration, breaks the silence.
You spin around and Lando stands before you, his blue eyes intense and determined. He's changed out of his team shirt into a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hair slightly tousled as if he's been running his hands through it.
"Lando, I-" you begin, but he cuts you off.
"No, don't give me another excuse," he says, stepping closer. "We've been dancing around each other all day. Enough is enough."
Before you can protest, he gently but firmly takes your arm and starts guiding you towards the McLaren motorhome. You could resist, but something in his tone, a note of desperation perhaps, makes you comply.
The motorhome is quiet and dimly lit as Lando leads you inside and up to the second level where the drivers have their private areas. He ushers you into his room, closing the door behind you.
The space is unmistakably Lando's - a gaming setup in one corner, a few personal photos tacked to a board, his race suit hanging neatly on a hook. The familiarity of it all makes your heart ache.
Lando runs a hand through his hair, pacing for a moment before turning to face you.
"I'm sorry," he blurts out, the words tumbling from his lips as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't say them immediately. "I'm so sorry for how I acted, for what I said. It was awful, and you didn't deserve any of it."
You stand there, arms crossed, trying to maintain your composure even as a lot of emotions overwhelm you. "You were an asshole, Lando," you say quietly.
"I know," he nods, "I was angry and frustrated, but that's no excuse. I took it out on you when you were just trying to help." He takes a step closer, his eyes pleading. "I've been miserable this past week. I missed you so much, and the thought that I might have ruined everything between us… it's been killing me."
Despite your best efforts to stay strong, you feel your resolve weakening. You're weak when it comes to him, and you're pretty sure he knows it.
"I missed you too," you admit softly. "But Lando, we can't keep doing this. We can't just pretend everything's fine and then lash out at each other when things get tough."
"I know, I know," Lando nods eagerly. "I want to do better. I want to be better," he pauses for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting your eyes again. "And I didn't go home with anyone that night, by the way,"
You furrow your brow, momentarily confused by the seemingly random statement. Then, like a flash, you remember his cruel words from that night in his house.
As you laid in bed the night of the argument, you couldn't help but wonder if Lando had gone home with someone else, and if that was how it worked when you were not there.
And it hurt more that you ever thought possible.
"Oh," you respond, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark. "That's… I mean, you didn't have to tell me that. It's not like we're…"
You trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence. What are you, exactly?
Lando takes a step closer, his blue eyes intense as they lock with yours. "I know I don't have to tell you," he says, his voice low and earnest. "But I want you to know. I only want you to keep me company, not anyone else."
Your heart skips a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. But almost immediately, a more cynical part of your mind chimes in. He wants you, but he doesn't want to be in a relationship with you. He wants the comfort, the intimacy, but not the commitment.
"Lando, I…" you begin, but the words catch in your throat. You want to ask for clarification, to define what this is between you, but fear holds you back.
Lando seems to sense your inner turmoil. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "I know I messed up," he says softly. "And I know things between us are… complicated. But I mean what I said. You're the only one I want."
You look down at your joined hands, then back up at Lando's face. Despite despite the voice in your head warning you to be careful, you feel yourself giving in. The pull is too strong, the desire to be with him overpowering your rational mind.
"Okay," you whisper, squeezing his hand.
Lando's face breaks into a relieved smile, his eyes lighting up. He pulls you into another embrace, holding you close. You allow yourself to sink into his warmth, pushing your doubts to the back of your mind for now.
When you finally pull apart, Lando's expression is soft, almost reverent. "Are we good?" he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
You take a deep breath, considering the question. Are you good? There's still so much left unsaid, so many questions unanswered. But looking at Lando, feeling the comfort of his presence, you can't bring yourself to disrupt this moment of peace between you.
"Yes," you say, managing a small smile. "We're good."
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The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Lando's Monaco apartment. You stir slowly, consciousness creeping in as you become aware of the warm body next to you. Opening your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of Lando's peaceful sleeping face, his features relaxed and vulnerable in a way they rarely are when he's awake.
It's been two weeks since your conversation in the motorhome at Spa, and true to form, you and Lando had fallen back into your familiar rhythm without missing a beat. The race weekend had gone well, with both McLarens finishing in the points, and you'd flown to Monaco with Lando for the first part of the summer break without a second thought.
As you watch Lando sleep, you can't help but feel that being here with him feels right in a way that's hard to describe. You know that this thing between you, whatever it is, is a ticking time bomb if you don't define it soon. But every time you think about approaching the subject, fear holds you back.
So you've chosen to ignore it, to live in this blissful bubble for as long as you can. You tell yourself that you'll deal with it later, after the summer break, after the next race, after the season ends. There's always a reason to put it off.
Lando begins to stir, his eyelids fluttering open. When his gaze focuses on you, a slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face. "Morning, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.
"Morning," you reply softly, unable to help the smile that mirrors his.
Lando reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek as he leans in for a kiss. It starts soft and sweet, but quickly deepens as he pulls you closer. His other hand trails down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You sigh into the kiss, your own hands exploring the familiar planes of his chest and back.
As things start to heat up, Lando rolls you onto your back, hovering over you. His lips leave yours to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You arch into him, your fingers tangling in his hair.
Just as things are about to progress further, there's a sharp knock at the front door.
"Ignore it," Lando whispers, leaning in to capture your lips again.
You lose yourself in the kiss for a moment before another, more insistent knock breaks through. Lando groans in frustration, dropping his forehead to your shoulder.
"I should probably see who that is," he sighs, reluctantly pulling away.
You watch as he gets out of bed, admiring the view as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants before heading downstairs.
Curious about who could be visiting so early, you decide to follow after a few minutes. You grab Lando's discarded t-shirt from the night before, pulling it on. It falls to mid-thigh, long enough to be decent for a quick peek downstairs.
As you descend the stairs, you hear familiar voices from the entryway. Your heart drops as you recognize the second voice - it's Max Verstappen. Panic sets in as you realize the compromising position you're in, but it's too late. You've already rounded the corner, coming face to face with both drivers.
For a moment, everything freezes. You stand there, a deer caught in headlights, wearing nothing but Lando's shirt. Max's eyes widen in surprise, darting between you and Lando. Lando looks equally shocked, clearly not expecting you to come downstairs.
Mortified, you turn on your heel and bolt back upstairs, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. As you retreat, you hear Max's voice, tinged with amusement and surprise.
"Dude, isn't that one of your strategists?"
You don't hear Lando's response as you shut the bedroom door behind you. This is exactly the kind of situation you'd been afraid of, the reason why leaving things undefined was so dangerous.
Downstairs, the conversation continues.
"Yeah, she is," Lando admits, running a hand through his hair nervously.
"Wow, okay," Max lets out a low whistle, "So… how long has this been going on? Please tell me it's recent and not, like, during the season or something."
Lando hesitates for a moment before answering. "It's… been a while actually. Over a year."
"A YEAR?!" Max exclaims, his voice rising in disbelief. "Lando, mate, are you serious? You've been hooking up with a team member for over a year and nobody knew?"
"It's not just hooking up," Lando defends, though his voice lacks conviction. "It's… complicated."
"Complicated?" Max raises an eyebrow, "Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen if you ask me. Does the team know?"
"No," Lando shakes his head, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. It's not affecting our work, so no one needs to know."
"Hey, not my circus, not my monkeys," Max holds up his hands in surrender, "But seriously, Lando, be careful. This kind of thing can blow up in your face if you're not careful."
They exchange a few more words before Max takes his leave, reminding Lando about their plans for later in the week. As soon as the door closes behind Max, Lando bounds up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
He finds you in the bedroom, already dressed in own clothes. You're pacing nervously, chewing on your bottom lip - a habit he knows you fall into when you're anxious.
"Hey," he says softly, approaching you cautiously. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect Max to show up unannounced."
You stop pacing, turning to face him. "It's fine," you say, but your voice is tight. "I should go."
"What? No, please don't go," Lando's face falls, "Max won't say anything, I promise. He may be a bit of a prat sometimes, but he can keep a secret."
"I'll just have a walk around the harbor, I'll be back," you say as you grab your phone from the nightstand.
"But why?" Lando asks, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "Is this because Max saw you? I swear, it's not a big deal."
"I'll meet you for lunch, okay? you say softly, avoiding Lando's gaze.
"Okay," he replies simply, not pushing for more.
Without further conversation, you gather your belongings and head for the door. Feeling more conflicted than ever before.
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After Max caught you together in Monaco, you stayed a few more days with Lando before reluctantly going back home, and he took on a trip with his family. You don't really see him for the rest of the summer break, until he showed up at your place two weeks before it was time to get back to work.
"So," Lando says as you laid in bed, "ready to go back to being all professional and proper soon, Ms. Strategist?"
"Oh, I'm always professional, Norris. It's you who can't keep your eyes off me during briefings."
"Me? Lando gasps in mock offense, "I'll have you know I'm the picture of focus and concentration."
"Sure," you drawl, "That's why you kept 'accidentally' brushing against me in the garage."
He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Can you blame me? You're irresistible when you're talking about tire strategies."
You laugh, pushing him away playfully, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity. "Smooth talker. Is that how you charm all the girls?"
"Nah," he grins, pulling you back towards him. "Just the brilliant, beautiful ones who can calculate pit stop windows in their sleep."
Your breath catches as he nuzzles your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. For a moment, you consider bringing up the conversation you've been avoiding all summer. "Lando," you murmur, "we should probably talk about-"
He silences you with a kiss, deep and passionate. "Or," he says, his eyes dark with desire, "we could make the most of our night."
You know you should resist, that you should have that conversation you've been avoiding. But as Lando's hands start to wander, you find your resolve weakening, as always.
You don't really hear from Lando after that night. He says goodbye after breakfast the following day, and then it's radio silence.
You try not to think too much of it, the break is coming to an end and he has responsibilities and work to go, it's not personal, you try to convince yourself.
But your mind can't help but wander. Is he with someone else? Is he avoiding you? Did you make him upset and you failed to notice?
But you don't dare to bring it up to him. He's not your boyfriend, after all.
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The transition back to work after the summer break is jarring. The McLaren Technology Centre buzzes with activity as everyone prepares for the upcoming race. You're immediately swept up in meetings, data analysis, and strategy sessions. Despite working in the same building, you and Lando barely cross paths for days. The few times you do see him from afar, he's always surrounded by engineers or caught up in simulator work.
Finally, the team arrives at Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the paddock envelops you as you make your way to the McLaren garage, your arms full of strategy documents and your mind racing with last-minute considerations for the race.
As you approach, you spot Lando and Oscar chatting animatedly near the entrance. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of Lando, and you can't help but smile. You've missed him more than you care to admit.
"Morning, boys," you call out, aiming for a casual tone as you near them.
They both turn, matching grins spreading across their faces. "Hey there, stranger," Lando says, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief that never fails to make your stomach flutter.
Oscar, ever the gentleman, moves to take some of the papers from your arms. "Let me help you with those. How was your break?"
You smile gratefully, handing him a stack of documents. "Thanks, Oscar. It was lovely, very relaxing. How about yours?"
As Oscar launches into a story about his time back home in Australia and his trip with his girlfriend, you can't help but steal glances at Lando.
He looks good - tanned and relaxed, with a hint of stubble that you know from experience feels delightfully rough against your skin. You quickly push that thought aside, reminding yourself of where you are.
"Oh, that reminds me," Oscar says suddenly, turning to Lando with a sly grin. "How did that lunch go the other day? With Emma?"
You feel your body tense involuntarily. Lunch? Emma? Who's Emma?
Lando's eyes widen slightly, and he shoots a quick glance your way before looking back at Oscar. "Oh, uh, it was fine. Just a casual thing, you know."
But Oscar, oblivious to the sudden tension, presses on. "Come on, mate, don't be modest. Emma told Lily it went really well. Said you two really hit it off."
You feel as if all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. The documents in your arms suddenly feel impossibly heavy.
Lando runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you've come to recognize. "It wasn't… I mean, it was just lunch, Oscar. Don't make a big deal out of it."
"I'm just saying," Oscar continues, still grinning, "she seems really into you. Might be worth giving it a shot, yeah? It's about time you settled down with someone nice."
You can't bear to hear any more. "I should get these to the engineers," you mutter, already turning away. "See you guys later."
As you walk away, you hear Lando call out your name, but you don't stop. You can't stop. If you stop, you might fall apart right there in the middle of the paddock.
You make it to the back of the garage before you hear rapid footsteps behind you. "Hey, wait up," Lando's voice comes from behind you, slightly out of breath.
You turn slowly, trying to school your features into a neutral expression. "What is it, Lando? I'm kind of busy."
He looks at you, his eyes searching your face. "About what Oscar said… it's not what you think."
"What do I think, Lando?" you raise an eyebrow, fighting to keep your voice steady. "We never defined what this is, remember? You're free to have lunch with whoever you want."
"It was just a favor for Oscar," Lando steps closer, lowering his voice. "His girlfriend's friend is new in town, and they asked if I'd show her around. That's all it was, I swear."
You want to believe him. God, how you want to believe him. But the memory of those blissful days during the summer break, followed by days of silence and now this… it's too much.
"Look, Lando," you say, hating how your voice wavers slightly, "we both knew this couldn't last. We have jobs to do, careers to think about. Maybe… maybe this is for the best."
"What? No, that's not…" Lando starts, reaching for your arm, but you step back.
"I really need to get these to the engineers," you say, gesturing with the documents still clutched to your chest like a shield. "We should both focus on the race this weekend. That's what we're here for, right?"
Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk away, your vision blurring slightly as you blink back tears. You can feel Lando's gaze boring into your back, but you don't turn around. You can't.
As you round the corner, out of sight from the main garage, you lean against the wall for a moment, taking deep breaths to compose yourself. The rational part of your brain knows you're overreacting, that you should hear Lando out. But the emotional part, the part that's been dreading this moment since this situationship began, is in full fight or flight mode.
With one final deep breath, you push off the wall and head towards the engineering room, burying your personal turmoil beneath layers of race strategy and tire calculations. Lando Norris was consuming every part of you.
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The tension between you and Lando remains palpable throughout the race weekend. You both maintain focused on your jobs, but there's a hint that something is not right with you.
The truth is, your situation with Lando has been consuming you for weeks now. What started as a casual arrangement has grown into something much deeper, at least for you.
The more time you spend with Lando, the harder you fall for him. And it's terrifying. Being casual isn't enough anymore; it hasn't been for a while. You've reached a point where you don't think you can continue this way. The pain of loving him in secret, of always being on the edge of something more but never quite reaching it, is becoming unbearable. You need clarity, commitment - or you need to walk away before you lose yourself completely.
To make matters more complicated, Lando wins the race at Zandvoort, securing his second victory of the season—one he had been craving since Miami. Your heart breaks even more as you realize you can't even celebrate this moment with him properly. Watching him on the podium, champagne in hand and pure joy radiating from his face, you feel like crying right there.
You want to run to him, throw yourself into his arms and celebrate with him, tell him how proud you feel and how much he deserves this. But you can't, not until whatever is going on between you gets sorted out.
It's not until after the race, when the celebrations cool down and the team begins to pack up, that Lando finally corners you in a quiet moment.
"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice low and urgent. "Please?"
You hesitate, glancing around the garage. Most of the team is busy with post-race duties, paying you no attention. With a sigh, you nod and follow Lando to a more secluded area behind the motorhome.
"First of all, congratulations on the win. You really deserve it," you say as soon as you're alone, trying to keep your voice steady.
Lando gives you a bittersweet smile. "Thanks, but that's not what occupies my mind right now," he replies, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart race, "I don't understand what happened back there. Why won't you believe me about Oscar's friend?"
You cross your arms, a defensive posture you're all too aware of. "It's not just about her, Lando. It's… everything."
"What do you mean, everything?" he asks, brow furrowed.
"I mean this whole situation," you take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts, "I thought I could handle it, but…"
"But what?" Lando steps closer, his voice softening, "Talk to me, please."
"But it's getting harder," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Every time I see you with someone else, every time we have to pretend there's nothing between us, it hurts a little more."
Lando reaches for your hand, and this time you don't pull away. "You're the only one I want," he says earnestly. "You have to know that."
You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "You always say that, Lando. But you still won't fully commit to me. It's hard to believe it when you won't put a label on us, when you go out with other women-"
"That wasn't a date," Lando interrupts, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I told you, it was just a favor for Oscar."
"I know, I know," you say, pulling your hand away and running it through your hair. "But that's not the point. The point is, I don't know where I stand with you. We've been doing this dance for over a year now, and I still don't know what we are to each other."
"I thought you were okay with this. With us staying without a label. You agreed to keep things casual."
"I was okay with it," you turn away, blinking back tears. "But it's not enough anymore. At least, not for me."
There's a long moment of silence. When you turn back, Lando is staring at the ground, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
"What are you saying?" he asks finally, his voice small.
"I'm saying that I can't do this anymore, Lando," you say firmly, "I want more. I need more."
"We agreed it was too complicted," Lando looks up at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, "That we couldn't be in a relationship."
"I know what we agreed," you say, your voice cracking slightly. "But feelings change. People change. I've changed, Lando. And I can't keep putting my heart on hold for a someday that might never come."
Lando steps forward, reaching for you again. "Please, don't do this. We can figure it out. I'll try to be more open about us. We can tell our friends."
You shake your head, cutting him off. "It's not just about telling people, Lando. It's about commitment. It's about knowing that when I go home at night, I'm not just someone in your bed. It's about building a future together, not just living for the moment."
"I don't know if I can give you that. Not right now," Lando's face falls. "My career is at a great point, and-"
"And mine isn't?" you interrupt, a flash of anger cutting through your sadness. "Do you think I'm not risking just as much as you are? If not more? But I'm willing to take that risk because what we have… what we could have… it's worth it to me."
You watch as emotions play across Lando's face - confusion, fear, longing. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely audible. "I don't want to lose you."
Your heart aches, but you stand your ground. "Then give me a reason to stay, Lando. Show me that I'm more than just a convenient distraction between races."
Lando opens his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand to stop him. "Don't answer now. Think about it. Really think about what you want. Because I can't keep going on like this. It's not fair to either of us."
With that, you turn and walk away, leaving Lando standing alone behind the motorhome. As you make your way back to the garage, you can feel the weight of unshed tears burning behind your eyes. But you don't let them fall. Not here, not now.
You've laid your cards on the table. Now it's up to Lando to decide what he's willing to do with them.
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The Monza race weekend flies by in a whirlwind of noise and action. You keep yourself busy, diving deep into numbers and race plans to avoid thinking about your feelings. It's easier to focus on tire strategies and pit stop timings than to deal with the ache in your chest every time you see Lando.
When you do have to talk to Lando, you both act normal and professional. But there's a tension in the air between you, like a tight rubber band ready to snap. You catch others giving you worried looks sometimes, and it makes you feel even more on edge.
Lando has not given you any kind of response to your talk in Zandvoort, and it's been just a week, but you feel like you know his answer. He's not willing to give you what you ask for. And it hurts, more than you can say.
As Sunday night gets closer, whispers of Carlos Sainz's birthday celebration begin to circulate through the paddock. You know Lando will definitely go - he and Carlos are really close friends. A small part of you wishes you could go too. You imagine laughing with your coworkers, having a drink, and forgetting about all the drama for a while.
But then you think about seeing Lando there. You picture having to smile and act like everything's fine when it's not. The thought of making awkward small talk with him, or worse, seeing him chatting happily with someone else, makes your stomach churn. It feels like too much to handle right now.
In the end, the thought of facing Lando and all those people is just too much. You decide to skip the party, even though a part of you feels guilty and a bit left out. But the relief you feel at making this decision tells you it's the right choice for now.
As the sun begins to set after the race and everyone gets ready for the party, you retreat to your hotel room. You order room service – a plate of pasta that you barely touch – and settle in for a quiet evening alone. You try to lose yourself in a book, but the words blur on the page, your mind constantly wandering to thoughts of Lando. Is he at the party now? Is he having fun? Is he thinking of you at all?
Meanwhile, at Carlos' birthday celebration, Lando finds himself struggling to enjoy the party. He mingles half-heartedly, his laugh a beat too late, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He can't help but scan the room periodically, hoping against hope that you might have changed your mind and decided to come.
Max, observant as ever and knowing his friend too well, notices Lando's distraction and pulls him aside.
"You alright, mate?" Max asks, "You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here."
Lando sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Is it that obvious?"
Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. "Want to talk about it?"
For a moment, Lando considers brushing it off, but the weight of the past week suddenly feels too heavy to bear alone. "It's about her," he admits quietly.
Max doesn't need to ask who 'her' is. By now he knows the situation his friend is caught up in, "Trouble in paradise?" he asks.
"More like paradise lost," Lando lets out a humorless laugh, "I think I really messed up, Max. I was so worried about keeping things casual, about not complicating our working relationship, that I didn't realize how fucked up the whole thing was."
"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks.
Lando looks around the room, at the laughing faces and clinking glasses, and suddenly feels very out of place. "I don't know. I just know I can't be here right now. Not when things are like this between us."
"Then go," he says simply. "Go find her. Talk to her. Life's too short for regrets, especially in our line of work."
Lando looks at Max, a hint of his usual playful smile returning despite the situation. "When did you become so wise, Verstappen? Did all those championship trophies finally knock some sense into you?"
"Someone has to be the voice of reason around here," Max rolls his eyes, but there's a fond smile on his face, "Now go on, get out of here before Carlos finds you and makes you stay, I'll distract him."
"Thanks, Max. I owe you one," Lando chuckles, patting his back.
"You owe me several, but who's counting?" Max grins, clapping Lando on the shoulder. "Now go get your girl."
With a newfound sense of purpose, Lando slips out of the party. His heart pounds as he makes his way to your hotel, not even sure if you would want to talk to him.
When he's finally standing in front of you door, he knocks softly, hope and fear warring in his chest as he waits for you to answer.
You're curled up on the bed, still trying and failing to focus on your book, when you hear the knock. Confused, you glance at the clock - it's barely past 10 PM. The party should still be in full swing. Who could be at your door?
As you pad over to the door and peer through the peephole, your breath catches in your throat. It's Lando, looking slightly disheveled, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
You hesitate, your hand on the doorknob. Part of you wants to fling the door open and throw yourself into his arms. But another part, the part that's been hurt and confused for the past week, holds you back.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you slowly open the door, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the emotions inside you.
"Lando?" you say, trying to sound calm even though your heart is racing. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at Carlos' party."
Lando looks a bit messy, like he rushed over. He shifts from foot to foot, looking nervous. "I was," he says. "But I couldn't stay. Not when you weren't there."
You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. You're trying to protect yourself, even though you want to believe him. "You left your best friend's birthday party early because of me?"
Lando nods, looking right at you. His eyes are so intense it makes your heart beat even faster. "Can I come in? I think we need to talk."
You hesitate for a moment. You're scared of getting hurt again, but you also really want to hear what he has to say, even if it breaks your heart. Finally, you step back and let him in.
As he passes by, you catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the paddock - a combination that's uniquely Lando and achingly familiar.
Lando walks into the room, running a hand through his hair. "I've been doing a lot of thinking this past week," he begins, turning to face you. "About us."
Your heart starts to race, but you force yourself to remain calm. "And?" you prompt, when he doesn't continue.
"And you were right. About everything," Lando takes a deep breath, "I've been so focused on not complicating things, that I didn't realize how much I was hurting you.”
"Lando, I-"
"Please, let me finish," Lando interrupts you softly, "The truth is, I've been scared. Terrified, actually. Of commitment, of letting someone in completely, of potentially damaging our careers if things went wrong. But this past week without you… it's been hell", he takes a step closer to you, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I've dated before, had relationships, but nothing has ever felt like this. What we have… it's different. Special. And I've been an idiot for not seeing it sooner."
Your breath catches in your throat as Lando continues, his words coming faster now, as if he's afraid he'll lose his nerve if he doesn't get them all out. "I kept telling myself that keeping things casual was the smart thing to do. That it was protecting both of us. But all I've done is push you away and make you doubt how much you mean to me."
He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you've seen him do countless times when he's nervous or frustrated. "The truth is, I'm crazy about you. I think about you all the time. When something good happens, you're the first person I want to tell. When something goes wrong, you're the one I want to turn to. And it scares the hell out of me because I've never felt this way about anyone before."
Your heart is pounding so hard you're sure Lando must be able to hear it. You want to speak, to tell him how much his words mean to you, but you can see he's not finished yet.
"I know I've messed up. I know I've hurt you by not being clear about my feelings, by not giving you the commitment you deserve. And I'm so, so sorry for that," Lando's voice cracks slightly, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. "But if you're willing to give me another chance, I want to do this right. No more hiding, no more pretending we're just casual. I want to be with you, properly. I want to tell our friends, take you on proper dates. I want everything."
He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I can't promise it'll be easy. Our careers, the media attention, the travel - it's all going to be complicated. But I'm willing to fight for this, for us, if you are."
You stand there, momentarily stunned by Lando's words. Your mind is racing, trying to process everything he's just said. You've dreamed of hearing something like this from him for so long, but now that it's happening, you find yourself almost paralyzed.
Taking a shaky breath, you finally find your voice. "Lando, I… I don't know what to say. This is everything I've wanted to hear from you, but I'm scared too. What if we try this and it doesn't work out? What if we end up ruining our friendship, our work relationship?"
Lando's hand finally makes contact with your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. "Those are all valid fears," he says softly. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about the same things. But I think what we have is worth the risk. Don't you?"
You lean into his touch, your eyes closing for a moment as you savor the feeling. When you open them again, you see Lando looking at you with such tenderness it makes your heart ache.
"I do," you whisper. "I really do. But Lando, I need you to be sure, if we do this, I need all of you. No more half measures, no more hiding."
Lando nods, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I'm sure. I want all of you, and I want to give you all of me in return."
The sincerity in his voice, the look in his eyes - it's everything you've been longing for. Unable to resist any longer, you close the distance between you and press your lips to Lando's. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you're both afraid this moment might shatter. But then Lando's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens.
It's not your first kiss, not by a long shot, but it feels different this time. There's a promise in this kiss, a commitment that wasn't there before.
You pour all your pent-up emotions - the longing, the frustration, the love you've been holding back. Lando responds with equal passion, one hand tangling in your hair while the other presses against the small of your back.
When you finally break apart, Lando rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.
"I've missed you so much," he murmurs. The relief and happiness that flood Lando's face are beautiful to see.
"I've missed you too," you admit. "More than I wanted to admit, even to myself."
Lando's hands start to wander, tracing patterns on your back that make you shiver, you melt at his touch, but then your mind starts racing again.
"Where do we go from here, Lan?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando takes a moment to consider your question, his hands still gently caressing your back. He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of tenderness and determination.
"Well," he starts, a small smile playing on his lips, "I think we take it one step at a time. We don't need to rush anything, but we also don't need to hide anymore."
You nod, encouraging him to continue.
"First things first," Lando says, his voice growing more confident, "I want to take you on a proper date. No sneaking around, no pretending we're just colleagues grabbing a quick bite. I want to take you somewhere nice, hold your hand in public, and not care who sees us."
The thought makes your heart flutter. "I'd like that," you reply softly.
You wrap your arms around him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. For the first time in a long while, you feel truly happy and hopeful about the future.
"So," Lando says after a moment, a hint of mischief in his voice, "since I left Carlos' party early to come here... does that mean I get to stay the night?"
You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. "Cheeky," you tease, but there's no real accusation in your voice. Instead, you lean in and kiss him.
As the kiss intensifies, you both start moving towards the bed, hands roaming and clothes starting to come off. This time, there's no holding back, no pretending this is just a casual thing. Every touch, every kiss is infused with the promise of something lasting.
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Two weeks later, you're in Baku for the Azerbaijan Grand Prix.
You're in the McLaren garage, eyes fixed on your tablet as you analyze the latest telemetry data. The familiar sounds of mechanics working and engineers discussing strategy fill the air, but you're completely focused on your task.
Suddenly, you sense a pair of eyes on you. Without turning, a smile tugs at your lips. You know exactly who it is.
"See something you like?" you ask playfully, still not looking up from your work.
You hear a low chuckle, then feel a warm presence behind you. "Just admiring my girlfriend," Lando's voice is soft, meant only for your ears.
He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently against him. His lips brush your shoulder in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine.
The past fortnight has been a whirlwind of emotions and adjustments. True to his word, Lando has taken you on proper dates and you've made your relationship official. You still feel giddy every time Lando calls you his girlfriend, a fact that hasn't escaped his notice. He seems to take particular joy in introducing you as such, his eyes always seeking out your reaction.
"How's the data looking?" he says, giving you a quick squeeze.
"Pretty good, actually," you turn back to your tablet, but remain in his loose embrace. "Your last practice session showed some promising improvements in sector two."
"That's my girl," Lando murmurs, pride evident in his voice. "Always making me look good."
You chuckle, elbowing him gently. "You do that all on your own, superstar. I just provide the numbers."
You turn in Lando's arms, facing him with a soft smile. The garage bustles around you, but in this moment, it feels like you're in your own little bubble.
"You know," you say, your voice low, "I never thought I'd be standing here like this with you. In the middle of the garage, no less."
Lando's eyes crinkle as he grins, his hands resting comfortably on your waist. "Having second thoughts?" he teases.
"Not at all," you shake your head, your smile widening. "It's just different. Good different."
"The best kind of different," Lando agrees, echoing his words from that night in your hotel room.
"I should probably get back to work," you say reluctantly, not making any move to step away.
Lando nods, but doesn't loosen his hold on you. "Probably," he agrees, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But first…"
He leans in, pressing a quick but tender kiss to your lips. It's brief, mindful of your surroundings, but filled with promise.
As he pulls back, you can't help but laugh softly. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"
"You love it," Lando grins, finally releasing you from his embrace.
"I do," you admit, your heart full. "Now go on, superstar. You've got a car to drive soon."
As you watch him blow you a kiss which made you throw your head back in laughter as he left, your heart feels full.
You and Lando. Lando and You. Finally, together.
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wileys-russo · 5 months ago
Text
the royal box II l.williamson
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i think this is genuinely up there with one of my favourite fics i've ever written the royal box II l.williamson
"i'd love to do lunch! i should probably find my seat soon but maybe next week? i'll get my agent to text me my calendar." you smiled, kissing the girls cheek and clinking your drink against hers in goodbye as you turned back to the bar.
not having seen her since you'd walked your first runway years ago it never ceased to amaze you how small the world could seem at these type of events, truly never knowing who you'd run into next, most of them a pleasant surprise.
"shame they let anybody in here now, for a royal box it’s really going downhill." but that voice, that raspy tone and infuriatingly attractive accent, that voice was not a pleasant surprise, in fact it was anything but.
"leah." you didn't even need to turn to look at her as she appeared beside you, nursing a drink of her own as the pair of you watched the pre set warm ups commence on the court below, stood together at a large crystal clear double paneled window right by the bar.
"well it can't be that royal of a box if you're here. unless they invited you because you're a royal pain in the ass?" you met her gaze with a fake smile, sipping at your drink as she puffed air from her nose.
"well you never seemed to complain when i was touching your ass darling." she quipped back smugly as you finished your drink with a fake chuckle, reaching over to place the empty glass on the bar top.
you hadn't seen her in months and yet it felt like only yesterday those same bright eyes had been locked with yours, often at any and all hours of the night and rarely ever stone cold sober as you'd roll around in bed together.
but swallowing the past you plastered a polite smile on your face and turned back to her. “lovely of your dad to let you borrow his suit, though it could have been tailored a little better-” you gently knocked your foot against hers, heel dragging up the edge of her pants that indeed were a centimeter or two too long to reveal her ankles.
"-then again, might be best to hide those shoes. did you loan those from your grandad?" you grimaced, leah kicking your foot away with a scowl, necking the last of her own drink.
“well speaking of hiding what a lovely change for you to put on a dress that isn't two sizes too small and soaked in cheap tequila and regret." the blonde smiled charmingly reaching over your shoulder to put her empty glass down next to yours, gesturing to the bartender that she'd like another.
"then again i know thats all about easy access for you, isn't it?" leah smirked as your eyes narrowed but still the fake smile remained on your lips.
“i seem to remember you never minded. less material to rip off and toss on your floor first, then throw at my face once we were done and you wanted me to leave, right?” you retorted back, not missing the way her eyes dipped up and down to check you out.
“do I have a glow about me? i’ve just been getting so much more beauty sleep without the needy calls at three in the morning.” leah questioned, patting her cheeks gently with a smug glint in her eyes as you laughed politely.
“no i was actually going to suggest you try a new eye cream, anti aging maybe? and these frown lines…yikes. then there’s those angry little eyebrows-” your finger wiggled around in front of her face pointing things out, lips curling upward at the way the smug humor was promptly wiped from her features.
“at least my eyebrows are real.” leah was quick to bite, jaw muscles visibly clenching as you chuckled, not at all ashamed of the fact you got yours tattooed, something leah used to find endlessly fascinating.
“well in my defense i have had a lot of practice faking things, haven't i?” you grinned watching her jaw tense even more, knowing exactly which kinks in her armor to poke at to get a reaction even after all this time had passed.
"please. i know you miss me!" leah's eyes rolled cockily as you laughed sarcastically. “aw is that what you have to tell yourself to feel better? baby I haven’t missed you at all.” you promised as her eyes now rolled.
“yeah you wish, i’ve missed you even less.”
“did dad do your tie for you as well or have we learned how to do it ourselves by now?” you pouted mockingly, reaching over and tightening the knot of her tie as she pushed your hands away and quickly tugged it back looser again.
“booked any genuine campaigns yet or is mummy still flashing the nepotism card to get you on the runway?” leah pouted right back as you scoffed and she grinned, also knowing exactly where to poke at you to get what she wanted.
“please like you don’t stalk my socials, i see you watching my stories.” you snickered, eyes drifting away from her and back down to the court where things seemed to be about to start.
“you think about me so much you feel the need to check? do you post things hoping i'll see them? aw baby girl that’s so sweet of you.” leah cooed pinching your cheek as you smacked her hand off you with a glare.
“don’t call me that.” you warned, hating the glee which filled her face at your obvious discontent, cursing yourself internally for allowing her to see as much.
“oh i'm sorry, struck a nerve did i? good girl, is that better?” leah leaned in closer to whisper, lips grazing your ear as she grabbed a fresh drink from the bar and retracted, the hair on the back of your neck standing to attention.
you kept quiet at that, turning away from her and ordering a new drink of your own with a polite smile, still feeling her eyes on your back as she made no move to leave.
"surely there's some doe eyed idiot with a complex for athletes that you can go swoon with the stories of you kicking things to boost your microsized ego?" you rolled your eyes hearing her chuckle and move to lean against the bar right beside you again.
"footballs. kicking footballs, never could learn the rules or the lingo could you? or maybe you just pretend not to know so i'll explain to you over and over and over, always giving you the attention you want so badly." leahs finger swiped at your nose as you gave her a hard look and shoved at her shoulder.
"speaking of idiots, will that wet mop with teeth and a combover you call a boyfriend be joining us?” leah questioned, spinning around so her back leant against the bar top and her eyes scanned the room, everyone slowly filing out to find their seats.
"you really have been keeping tabs." you glanced up at her with a small smirk as she chose not to acknowledge your statement.
“but no he’s probably off partying in magaluf or ibiza spreading some sort of sexually transmitted disease, waving his little dick around and shoving it into everything that moves.” you rolled your eyes with disdain at the mention of your anything but loyal ex, the boy having slept with more women just while he was with you than you think you had your entire lifetime.
"ahh i see, ex boyfriend then. did he catch the sti from you? or was it one pregnancy scare too many that pushed the unwilling father to be away.” leah smirked though she felt you stiffen beside her and suddenly alarm bells went off in her head that maybe she'd taken things just a step too far.
"fuck you leah." you didn't even hang around to wait for your drink, giving the taller girl one final venomous look which made her stomach drop before you were storming off away from her to find your seat.
it had happened when you least expected it.
you'd not seen leah for a couple of weeks as she was on camp for england, but nothing about your hook ups regular or scheduled and certainly not monogamous you'd busied yourself seeing other people.
this night in particular it had been a rather handsome male model you'd been on a shoot with, accepting his offer of dinner and drinks once you'd wrapped for the day, raised never to say no to a free meal or a hot date.
one thing lead to another and later that night you found yourself in a club packed with blurred faceless bodies, surrounded by strangers and drowning yourself in shots to the point you didn't even remember leaving and going home with him.
there was however one thing that was burned into your mind, the biggest regret of your life as the condom had broke while the two of you were going at it.
normally you were always careful and you'd never be this stupid but the boy dismissing it himself you'd been far too drunk to disagree as he made no move to pull out.
not even getting to have a release yourself it had been a gloriously underwhelming seven minutes before he was satisfied and then suddenly too tired to return the favor.
again with potentially more cheap vodka in your system than blood you'd passed out beside him, spending the night in his bed and waking up hours later with a pounding headache and a deep rooted shame as you sat up and slivers of last night flickered through your mind.
grabbing your clothes you quickly dressed and fled his house, no idea where you were as you sat on his front steps and bounced your knee, the shame spreading through your body quickly morphing into anxiety as your fight or flight kicked in.
knowing there was one person who would answer this time of morning you clicked call, phone held to your ear and skin crawling with disgust as you prayed she would come through.
sure enough after only a few rings the dial tone clicked and you heard a yawn. "this is unusually early for a hook up even for you, what you need and miss me this badly?" the teasing tone and snicker died in her mouth hearing how you spoke her name.
"leah." you could barely get it out without crying, covering your mouth as reality set in and the blonde on the other end sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes and trying to wake herself up properly.
"whats happened? whats wrong?" the concern in her voice was lost on you as you took a shaky breath. "can you come pick me up please? i don't know where i am but i can send you my location." you asked quietly, leah already out of bed and rummaging around for her car keys.
"yeah send it now, i'll be there soon."
you'd moved away from his house lingering on the curb out front when you heard her pull up, standing to your feet and hurrying to her car just wanting to get as far away from here as possible.
leah had intended to get out of the car to check on you but you were already up and opening the passenger door, sliding into her car and avoiding her gaze as you buckled yourself in.
"you alright?" leah asked cautiously voice thick with sleep, taking in your disheveled appearance and oddly quiet manner with a frown. "i'm fine." you muttered quietly, fiddling with your hands in your lap as you stared down at the floor.
"did something happen?" leah asked carefully though you knew what she meant, a gentle nudge to your side having her offering you a bottle of water she'd quickly grabbed from her fridge as she flew out the door.
"can you take me to a pharmacy please? there's one open about ten minutes from here." you asked after accepting the water with a quiet thank you, leah hesitating for a moment which you felt.
"leah, please." you finally looked up and met her gaze, silence filling the car as the blondes eyes raked over you. "actually don't worry i should have just called an uber or something i'm sorry." you shook your head, moving to unclip your seatbelt as leahs hand shot to grab yours.
"no, please i really don't want you in an uber by yourself right now. put the address in and i'll take you." leah promised softly, squeezing your hand and waiting until you nodded to let go, starting the car back up as you typed the address into her gps system.
there wasn't another word exchanged between the pair of you, leah focused on the road and your own gaze trained out the window, occasionally taking small sips of the cold bottle of water clenched in your hand.
"you don't need to come in, i can find my way home from here." you unclipped yourself as leah pulled up outside the small block of shops where the twenty four seven pharmacy was.
"thank you leah." you spoke sincerely and softly, leaning across the console to kiss her cheek, slipping out of the car before the blonde could even get a word out.
she sat there stumped for a second watching your figure disappear into the pharmacy, shaking her head and hurrying to unclip her own belt, turning off the car and hurrying in after you.
"leah what-" you looked up in surprise as she appeared beside you, crinkle of confusion in your eyebrows as the blonde opened and closed her mouth a few times.
"sunglasses! i need sunglasses and...pads?" she floundered around for an excuse, grabbing a pair of shades off the rack in front of you and slipping them on with an awkward smile.
you couldn't help but chuckle, seeing what she was doing but appreciating it none the less. "thank you." you smiled, leah nodding and darting off to grab the pads she had no intention of using as you waited for the pharmacist.
"what can i get for you love?" the older woman eventually appeared in front of you as you shifted uncomfortably. "can i get the morning after pill please?" you asked quietly, not missing the judgement that flashed across her face though it was gone as soon as it appeared.
you jumped at a loud clatter behind you glancing over your shoulder to see a flustered looking leah scrambling to clean up the pile of baby formula tins she'd just knocked over, sunglasses still covering her eyes.
"sorry! sorry! i just...i got this." leah motioned to the tins, cheeks flushed bright red in embarrassment as you bit the inside of your own cheek to hide a smile, hearing the pharmacist sigh.
"is this pill for yourself or someone else?" the woman asked in a monotone, kindness drained from her voice as the same cocktail of shame, anxiety and disgust leapt into your mouth like bile.
"myself."
"have you considered all of your options?" the woman asked again as you frowned with confusion. "my options?" you questioned as again the woman sighed as if you were doing her a grave disservice.
"your options. have you taken a test? seen a doctor? do you know if you are actually pregnant?" the woman raised an eyebrow as your mouth opened and closed a few times, caught off guard by the questions.
"excuse me? it is literally called the morning after pill. how would she have had time to go see a doctor and take a test? not that any of that is your business." leah was suddenly beside you, sunglasses pushed onto her forehead and signature scowl on her face.
"well i-"
"exactly. so can you please get her the fucking pill? legally i don't think she's required to do anything than prove she's of age to purchase it." leah warned seriously as the womans eyes widened and she nodded, quickly rummaging around behind her.
"here." she placed it down in front of you and rang you up, your phone tapping to pay as leah stared the woman down firmly. "thank you." the blonde smiled though it didn't reach her eyes, the two of you quickly making your way out of the store and back to leahs car.
"seems all i'm doing today is saying thank you." you smiled hovering by her car, leah dismissing it with a small wave. "you might need to wait and take that in a little bit though." leah gestured for you to get into the car as she rounded to her own side.
"why?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she started up the engine, arm draped across the back of your seat looking over her shoulder with a grin.
"well because i just realised i didn't pay for these sunglasses."
"we're at your place?" you questioned later as the blonde pulled into her driveway and cut the engine off. you'd already taken the pill during the drive, missing the way leahs eyes flickered to you every few minutes to check you were okay.
"yeah i figured you probably shouldn't be by yourself, just in case theres any side effects or anything." leah brushed it off as you nodded slowly, genuinely too tired and hungover to find an argument.
you followed her out of the car and into her home, finding it strange to be stood here in broad daylight and uncertain of what was to come, awkwardly wrapping your arms around yourself.
"do you want a shower?" leah offered as you glanced down and realised you really could use one, the thought of being able to wash off the remnants of last night too tempting to turn down.
"yeah that would be great, thank you."
you exhaled heavily as you exited leahs shower already feeling better, finding a bundle of clean clothes waiting at the door for you to change into.
you couldn't help but inhale as you wiggled yourself into her clothes, drowned in the scent of leahs expensive perfume and green apple body wash, unable to deny the comfort it strangely provided you.
"all good?" leah asked as you appeared, the girl also unable to deny the weird way her stomach twisted seeing you clad in her clothes. "yeah your water pressure is insane." you chuckled making her grin, licking a dollop of jam off her thumb.
"thought you might want something to eat but i haven't exactly done my groceries yet." leah offered you a plate of toast, slight pink blush in her cheeks, something you'd not seen from the footballer the entire time you'd known her.
"its perfect." you assured, ignoring the urge to tease her for blushing knowing the girl had practically saved you today and you owed her a great debt of gratitude.
"do you want to watch something?" leah offered, thumb pointing to the lounge as you nodded, following her over here as you sat down, leah right beside you with her own plate and grabbing the remote.
"is that...just plain bread?" you asked, amusement present in your features at the blondes choice of breakfast. "yeah, so?" she scoffed defensively as you raised your hands up in surrender.
"nothing...the stomach wants what it wants." you laughed, leah kicking you playfully and grabbing her plate, settling back into the lounge and propping her sock covered feet onto the coffee table.
"you watch this?" you asked with surprise as she flicked on last nights episode of big brother. "you don't?" she questioned with a mouthful of bread as you grimaced and knocked your knee into hers.
"of course i do, just didn't picture englands captain wasted her time on trashy reality tv!" you teased taking a bite of your toast as she shrugged, reaching behind her to grab a blanket off the back of the lounge, putting down her plate and gesturing for you to put your arms up as she draped it across the two of you.
"might be a god in the bedroom but i am still human." she winked as you jokingly gagged and she pulled a face, settling back down and munching on her plain bread as a comfortable silence fell between the pair of you.
you weren't sure when you fell asleep but you awoke several hours later dazed and confused. you tensed realising you weren't alone, an arm draped across your midsection as you groggily rubbed your eyes, blinking a few times and coming to.
you quickly realised it was leah draped across you, a mess of blonde hair covering her face as it was tucked into your shoulder, her arm slung tightly across your midsection, other hand intertwined with yours as you realised your fingers were interlocked.
you felt weird, no-you felt good. it felt strangely right to be in this foreign position with her and that was terrifying, the subtle and warm and welcoming domesticity of the situation filled you with dread and with fear.
you couldn't develop feelings for her, not for leah.
leah who wouldn't even look at you after she'd spend hours worshipping your body and having you chanting her name among all sorts of obscenities.
leah who would just toss you your clothes and wander off for a shower or roll back over in bed facing away from you, which you knew all too well was the unspoken cue for you to leave.
yet here she was curled up into you, legs stretched out across the coffee table and tucked under a blanket, holding your hand and your body in a way so tender you had almost forgotten what sincere non sexual intimacy felt like.
so you did what countless nights spent with her had trained you to, you left.
carefully unwinding yourself out of her grip the blonde had stirred but remained asleep, allowing you the time to shrug off her clothes and slip back into your dress from the night before with a disgusted grimace at the memories they held.
folding up her clothes and leaving them on the arm of the lounge you gave her one last look, a weird longing to just wrap yourself back up in her arms all you needed to push you out her front door.
leah had woken up not long after, frown on her face as she realized you weren't beside her anymore and the clothes you'd had on were neatly folded a few metres away, and since that morning leah hadn't heard a word from you.
you sighed deeply as you watched the blonde make her way down the row of seats, smiling and shaking hands as she went but heading right for you.
"you have to be joking." you mumbled to yourself as she dropped herself in the spare seat right beside you, not missing the way you physically recoiled and pulled your body as far to the other side of your seat as you could to get away from her.
"you forgot your drink." leah offered it out to you, giving an awkward smile as you glanced at her but accepted it none the less, taking a sip and sitting it down in the holder on your right.
"i'm not thanking you." you warned her, hoping that was all she wanted and would head off to another seat but you had no such luck as she wriggled around and made herself comfortable.
"look i'm really sorry i took that way too far and-" you almost thought you might not hear from her again as the set started, leah leaning in to whisper to you as your eyes closed and you sighed again.
"its fine, just shut up leah." you sharply cut her off, the blonde nodding and leaning back, both of you pulled into conversations with other people as the box buzzed with quiet chatter.
eventually though you once again found yourself with not much else to occupy you as the chatter died out and the match began to heat up, leah muttering commentary under her breath as you chanced a look at her and chuckled at the concentrated scowl on her face.
"what?" she didn't miss it as your head snapped forwards again and you shrugged. "no go on, whats so amusing?" she questioned crossing her arms and turning her body just slightly toward you.
"frown lines." you pointed to your own forehead and back to hers with a small smile as her cheeks flushed red. "oh." she was quick to relax her face, though as you chanced another look toward her a few minutes later you smiled seeing the scowl right back there again.
"shut up i can't help it, this stresses me out." leah knocked her knee into yours and crossed her arms over her chest. "why? have you given up football for a budding tennis career?" you chuckled as she mocked you and pulled a face.
"no. but i know what the pressure is like to play a sport at this high a level, and how hard you are on yourself for every little thing. even without the eyes on you here they'll be thinking about the media, fans, family, everyone is just watching and waiting, hoping you mess up or do something dumb they can rip you apart for." leah retorted as your face softened a little at her words.
"yeah i sort of understand that." you agreed, feeling not too dissimilarly when you walked a runway. "maybe i'll come to your next show and kick a football at you." leah commented casually as your head snapped toward her, the cheeky grin all you needed to know she was messing about as your eyes rolled and a small smile tugged at your lips which you quickly corrected.
"i saw that." "you're getting heatstroke. only you would wear a three piece charcoal suit in the middle of summer." "summer? have you seen those clouds? i'll put a tenner on that we don't even get through the next set before a rain break."
and annoyingly enough of course leah was correct, the day wrapping up as the skies had opened and an icy wind was whipping around the air, nipping and pinching at every scrap of flesh it came into contact with.
you nodded along with a polite smile, chatting with a few people as you were longing to leave, the cold chill setting into your skin as goosebumps appeared and your arms were wrapped tightly around you.
finally their own car arrived and they bid you goodbye, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you checked the eta for your uber and saw it wasn't too far away.
"see i told you it would rain." you jolted as soft material settled over your shoulders, turning around to meet a familiar smile.
"don't. you're going to get yourself sick if you stand here shivering like an idiot." leah cut you off before you could even say what she knew you were about to, hands knocking away your own which tried to shrug off her suit jacket she'd draped over you.
"thank you." you admitted with a smile, leah nodding and checking her phone as you tried to ignore just how good she looked. "try not to get it wet, its not actually dad its dior!" the blonde smirked as you playfully rolled your eyes.
"got any plans for tonight?" you made conversation as the pair of you stood side by side, leah shaking her head and shoving her hands into her pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.
before you were able to stop yourself or think it through the words were tumbling out of your mouth with a mind of their own.
"do you feel like a dance?"
a dance had been putting it mildly as you moved and swayed your body to the beat, bass so thunderous it pumped and shook the floor beneath you.
taking leah as your plus one you'd arrived to the party you'd been invited to, the blonde shocked to say the least as you'd dragged her into the large warehouse where it was taking place.
it had all started off tame enough, finding a table of your friends you sat down with leah by your side, the blondes charming demeanor taking over as she found no issues holding her own in conversation with them.
then someone had appeared with a round of shots, and well it all seemed to go downhill from there.
which hours later is what had head to the liquid confidence flowing through both yours and leahs veins, her body pressed against yours as lights pulsed around you only showing flickers of her face every now and then.
a familiar urge starting to grow in the coil of your stomach you grabbed the defenders hands, placing them on your stomach and pushing your ass back into her, leaning your head back on her shoulder and feeling her nose tuck into your neck.
“i think you’ve forgotten i know all of your tricks pretty girl.” leah laughed, lips grazing your ear as you strained to hear her over the thumping music engulfing the pair of you.
reaching up and tangling a hand in her hair you pulled her closer, lips kissing at her jaw and feeling her own hands begin to wander as your teeth tugged at her earlobe.
“and I think you’ve forgotten i know all your weaknesses, captain."
that was the final nail in the coffin, a small frown creased into your features as you felt her pull away and worried if you'd misread the signals you thought she'd been giving all night.
but all of that was blown to hell and back as her hand found its home against the back of your neck and she pressed into you again, leading you out of the mass of sweaty bodies on the dance floor.
a grin was plastered on your face as she snagged her suit jacket off the back of her chair and grabbed your hand with her other, pulling you with her toward the exit.
"hi." you smiled as the fresh air hit you, the pair of you wandering away from the drunken fallen soldiers littering the exit, leah pulling your body into hers as you hid yourselves around a corner out of sight.
"hello." she grinned back, hands falling either side of your face as your hand grabbed the back of her neck, finally pulling her mouth to meet yours as the pair of you melted into one another.
"this is a bad idea right?" you mumbled against her lips feeling her nod. "terrible idea." she pulled away momentarily, chest heaving and face flushed pink as you tangled your hands in her blonde locks and she grinned.
"so, your place or mine?"
~
"jesus christ leah." you exhaled shakily, rolling off of her and running a hand through your hair, struggling to catch your breath as you closed your eyes for a moment and felt her body vibrate with quiet laughter beside you.
"you still with me?" you opened them to see her hovering over you, cheeky smile on her lips as you nodded. "that certainly didn't sound fake." her smile morphed into a smirk as you pushed her and she collapsed back into the pillows beside you.
"that was what that was about? proving a point?" you struggled to get out, coming down from your fourth orgasm in a row. "no! well not the first three anyway, but that one? yeah that one was personal." leah confirmed cockily as you reached a hand over to gently slap her cheek, feeling her lips kiss at your palm with a chuckle.
the pair of you had barely made it through her front door, hands burning and twitching as you'd done your best to keep them off one another in the excruciatingly long uber ride back.
"fuck me." leah had exhaled as you wasted no time dropping to your knees in front of her the moment you'd crossed the threshold of the bedroom, tugging at her pants as she clumsily fumbled with her belt.
"i'm trying to." you'd grinned up at her making her eyes roll as she tangled a hand in your hair, having started off pleasuring her first and reaping in the moans you drew from the older girl while your face was buried between her legs.
then things had moved to the bed and leah wasted no time reminding you that just because you struck first she was the one in control, and what felt like hours later here you were struggling to return to earth.
"i should go." your body shifted back into autopilot as you'd finally caught your breath, sitting up and pushing your hair to one side of your head as you covered yourself with the blanket and leaned down to rummage through the pile of clothes on the floor for your own.
"or you could stay." you froze at that, time seeming to stand still as leah tried to push down the nerves which consumed her following her statement, fidgeting with her fingers which were hidden beneath the blanket.
“you never ask me to stay.” you still hadn't moved, arm slung over the edge of the bed and your dress in hand, this uncharted territory quite terrifying as you had no idea what would come next.
“you never seemed like you wanted to.” you sat up at that, looking down at her with a slight frown. "you never seemed like you wanted me to." you quipped back as leah sighed, running her hands down her face and flopping them onto the mattress.
"i didn't think i did." she admitted quietly, glancing up at you as you looked on curiously and nodded for her to continue. "i thought this was just casual hook ups. then you called me that morning from that guys house and hearing how upset you were made me worried, more worried than i would be for someone i didn't care about." she sighed, avoiding looking at you now.
"then we came back here and you showered and wore my clothes and we hung out and it felt good. i thought maybe we might be able to explore something more than just hooking up but..." she trailed off as now you looked away and bit the inside of your cheek.
"but then i left." you finished for her as she nodded. "why didn't you ever answer when i reached out afterwards?" leah asked as you shuffled back to lay down again beside her.
"well when i called you that morning i thought it was just auto pilot. but then you were so helpful and sweet and we did hang out which was different but not in a bad way." you paused to think over your next words.
"then i woke up and you were holding me which felt...good, and that scared me. we've never been intimate in a non sexual way and i guess i just assumed it was a reflex for you since you were asleep, because every time we'd sleep together-" you were stopped as leah cut you off.
"-i'd throw your clothes at you and expect you to leave." the blonde admitted, the two of you sharing a look and a small smile, cheeks flushed with color.
"yes. then i panicked because it felt good and different and weird, and i assumed you'd not share those feelings and just break things off anyway, so i broke it off first to save myself and here we are." your hand moved closer to brush against hers, a silence falling between you.
"so.." leah trailed off, her leg moving next to graze yours. "so..." you echoed, finger stretching to trace a line down the back of her hand.
"would you want to stay over then?" leah broke first, head turning to face you as you noticed the obvious worry in her eyes at what you would say.
"okay." you agreed, corners of your mouth tugging upward as her eyebrows raised in clear surprise. "but you’re making me breakfast in the morning.” you declared, leahs laugh echoing around the room.
"deal. jam on toast it is!" she teased, a warmth spreading through your body as her hand moved again to sit on top of yours, her fingers linking and sliding around your own, the blonde raising it up and placing a soft kiss to your palm again.
"well for me. just plain bread for you right?" you quipped back, catching her off guard as you leaned in and pecked her lips, darting back away before she could return the gesture with a twinkle in your eyes.
“a fun fact you’ll grow to love is i am a terrible chef.” leah admitted as now your laugh filled the room, shuffling closer and turning on your side to face her as she did the same, feet nudging yours apart to slot her leg in between yours.
“and what else should I know?” you smiled, pointer finger of your free hand tracing absentminded lines across her face. "mm well i eat a plain ham sandwich before and after every game, i am a huge star wars nerd, i love country music...and i would really like to take you on a proper date." leah finished with a smile that had you reeling, cheeks heating up even more.
"do the tips of your ears always go red when you're embarrassed? how have i noticed that before thats adorable?" leah cooed and tugged at them as you whined and leaned forward pressing your face into her shoulder.
"leave me alone." you grumbled, pulling your head back onto the pillow and resuming tracing the curve of her jaw. “i think you’re working backwards, I don’t normally sleep with women on the first date.” you teased, green eyes rolling playfully.
"well I don’t normally sleep with women i date.” she smiled charmingly for a moment before the realization dawned on her she'd not quite said that right and she frowned.
“no that came out wrong i meant i-" you didn't let her finish, pressing your lips against hers with a laugh, your mouths moving together in perfect harmony.
"shut up. i'd love to go on a date with you.” you promised, pecking her lips a few more times and melting at the way her face lit up. "yeah?" you nodded. "yeah."
"now something you'll learn to love about me, i've never seen a single star wars movie." you confessed, leahs jaw dropping in disbelief as she sat up so quickly it made you jolt in shock.
"what are you doing?" you questioned confused as she pulled her body away from you, rolling out of bed still completely naked and rushing around her room.
"you, are getting a movie education." she pointed to you threateningly, disappearing into her closet for a moment.
"right now? leah we just had sex i'm naked!" you laughed, wincing as a bundle of material hit you in the face, pulling it away and holding it up.
"oh this is the darth vader guy right? luke skywalkers dad?" you realised who was on the shirt as leah stopped her rushing about, stood at the end of the bed staring at you in disbelief.
"that is like the biggest plot twist of the franchise how on earth did you know that?" "leah...vater in german literally means father!"
"have you always been such a know it all?" leah scoffed as you rolled your eyes, sitting up and tugging her shirt over your head, reaching down to find your underwear.
"i'm making popcorn, get comfy!" leah called out as she darted out of her bedroom. "leah at least put some pants on!" you laughed at her naked form flitting around the kitchen.
"well another fun fact for you to know pretty girl, wearing pants is actually banned in this house."
2K notes · View notes
misshugs · 8 months ago
Text
₃The Cameragirl³ || snc
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After a cheeky reply you might've regretted, you end up dragged into the office to have a little... talk.
contains: SMUT +18, oral (both ways), unprotected sex, cursing, pet names, alcohol consumption, no mention of Y/n
a/n: you asked, i delivered.
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]
word count: 3k
[u n e d i t e d]
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
You thought about how lucky it was for the room to be soundproof, glad that nobody will hear your screams. Although... it would be quite pleasant to let everyone know how they please you, how they touch you like nobody else.
The way you know only them could do it.
You didnt expect this to be the way you'd be doing your cardio, but it seemed destiny had some other plans.
[hours before]
You were basically shaking as they took you back onto the office, the thought of them asking about your stupid comments instead of going with the flow like they always did.
It was too obvious to be jokingly flirting this time, and they noticed.
And you were scared shitless.
You didn't know if they would genuinely go ahead with it or maybe let you know they're not interested, which made your stomach growl in response to your anxiety.
Well, to your hunger as well. You haven't eaten anything since yesterday.
They just got to sit you down on the table before listening to your poor stomach. They laughed.
"Right. You just woke up." Sam said as you shamelessly nodded your head out of embarrassment. "Then let us eat before talking it out. Wouldn't like for you to pass out on us."
"Come on, then." Colby continued, extending an arm to you, which you cheekishly ignored and stood up from the table wilst puffing your cheeks out. "Giving me an attitude? Yikes." He laughed.
"Didn't even help me out when I was stuck in Sam's arms? Yikes." You replied, walking out of the room. You could hear their chuckles before walking down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Heating yourself something to eat, they reluctantly got closer and sighed. "Hey, uh... we need to leave right now. There's this person we have to meet for another haunted place and this is the only time they have available. We completely forgot." Colby explained to you, looking back at his phone, guessing it was the message he received.
"Oh, okay. I'll be here, then." You said, giving him a side look before continuing making your food.
"You don't wanna come with us?" Sam asked.
"I wanna eat?"
"Right, right... well, we'll talk later, then. Don't think you're still safe." Sam smiled at you before walking away with Colby.
You rolled your eyes jokingly, but when they left, you let out a big sigh you've been restraining.
You were safe, for now at least. While thinking of a way to try and avoid the topic all together, you got a message. It was a mutual friend of yours, asking you to come to a party.
Quickly agreeing at the false sense of hope you received, she told you that the boys were also invited. She also agreed upon picking you up beforehand, since you weren't really going to do anything anyways so being early and prepping everything up was also a nice way to keep your mind out of the gutter.
After eating, you basically had the whole day for yourself, so you might as well prepare yourself earlier.
Thinking about them, you thought cautiosly about what to wear.
And honestly?
You felt like you needed to push their buttons a little bit more tonight. Yeah, whatever happened a few minutes ago made you a blushing mess, but at the same time, boy... the adrenaline you got from it sure was fun.
Then again, you guys weren't exactly together... so what's wrong with wearing something a bit more... revealing?
And so, it was decided. Searching throughout your closet, you found a short dress that fit your criteria for the night. With a slit through the back that went down to heaven and short slits on the side, making your thighs almost pop out.
It wasn't something you usually wore. Heck, you forgot you had it for all you remembered, but it looked so good in your skin that you just had to use it.
A couple of hours passed by and you were already at the party, getting things ready before some people started coming through. It didn't take long before the place began crowding with people.
The host, your friend, has been under the influence even before it all began. You were starting to get a bit tipsy yourself, getting loose at the dance floor whenever a good song started playing.
"Hey, quick question." Your friend yelled at you. "Where's Sam and Colby? They said they were busy and didn't know if they were gonna come." She explained. Looking at her with confusion, you then remembered.
"Oh! They're talking to someone for their next investigation, that's why." Unbeknownst to you, you were merely half right. Yes, they were talking with someone about their next location, but they also denied due to other reasons involving you.
Thinking about it, you believed they weren't going to arrive at the party, therefore, you were somewhat down at the thought. You wanted to tease them tonight, but it seems that your plan wasn't going to happen.
It didn't step you away from having fun, though. Drinking, dancing, talking with friends... it was a good time. That is, until a random dude you've never seen in your life started approaching.
Disinterest in your eyes was visible, but the guy seemingly ignored it completely and kept making the cringiest remarks you've heard in your life.
He tried to get closer to you, reaching out to your waist before you could try and run away.
Your heart racing at a thousand per hour, his hands were rough, almost certain that there might leave a mark on your fragile skin.
"Won'tcha come with me tonight, 'lil mama?" He smirked, holding you tight and close to him, making you almost puke.
"Get the fuck away from me!" You tried to scream, tried to push him away but to no use. You were still weak from your recent investigation after all.
"Now, come on. Don't do this to me, honey." Holding your chin on place, he made you look at him. "I can make you feel really g-"
"Back off dude, she's taken." You heard a familiar voice before finally setting free from his grasp. Colby was the first one you saw, taking off the guys arms from you.
Another set of hands held you softly by the waist, pulling you closer, away from him. Sam. You looked up at his face, he seemed mad.
He looked at you, now worry in his blue eyes. "You alright?" He asked softly in your ear, holding one of your hands to try and comfort you. You nodded quickly, glad that you've been saved once again.
Looking back at the guy, Colby was pushing him away. A determined stare down from his side, making the guy that was trying to gain your attention chuckle.
"Where were you, huh? When she was having fun all alone in the middle of the room? You're just tryna pull her off as well. You dipshits are nobody." He snarled back at Colby, annoyance in both their faces.
"We're not gonna let shits like you touch our girl, understand?"
You could barely hear what they were saying due to the loud music from every side, but you surely heard that last part.
Their girl? What did that even mean?
A visible smirk on Colby's lips when he turned around to look at Sam. You didn't think the next set of actions were the respond to this childish kids play, but you could feel Sam's soft hands on your chin, making you look at him and his lips interlocked with yours in an instant.
Oh fuck.
Oh fuck, what was happening?
Was there a faucet running? Cause boy you were dripping wet. These men were driving you crazy.
You caught a glimpse of the now pissed guy walking off before Sam could pull away. When he eventually did, you looked at his smiling face for a second before reality hit you like a truck.
Your face flushed with a red tint on your cheeks. Looking back at Colby who was walking closer towards you, both of them now towering over you.
"I-I thought you guys weren't gonna make it?" You asked, genuinely confused now that you remembered your friend vividly explaining they were busy.
"We weren't, but our plans for the night switched places." Colby smirked at you, making Sam laugh at the remark, even more with your confused face.
You didn't understood at the time, but their plans were supposed to be you. "We finished earlier than expected, but then when we got home you weren't there." Sam explained. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Well, she told me to come here early to help her out, so..."
"Ah, so you've been here for longer?" Colby asked, putting his hand on the slit on your back. "I guess I can't blame the guy, such a revealing outfit for so many hours..." He continued, slowly caressing your back with his hand, moving his hand down your bare skin. "I don't think I'd be able to hold it on a minute longer if I were him."
Shivers went throughout your whole body after listening to his words. "So if you didn't know we were coming, did you put this on for everyone else to see?" Sam asked, looking at you in the eyes. "I'm a bit jealous."
Your lip was quivering. The plan was to flirt back and tease them if they eventually came, but right now, you were speechless. The touch of their hands making your legs weak and shaky. A sudden hand up the side slit of your dress from Sam caught you slightly off guard, caressing your hip softly.
"Showing this much skin... Is this dress yours? Why have we never seen it before?" He asked.
"I don't.. I-I don't use it often." You managed to reply before panting at the constant feeling of getting touched by them. The adrenaline of someone possibly seeing what they were up to with you was nerve racking.
"We'll make you use it more often then, but only for us." Colby whispered, holding your ass and making you let out a soft moan. "We might as well have to find another place to chat more comfortably, what do you think, Sam?" He asked and Sam nodded.
Holding your hand tighter, he started walking away from the croud and into a random room from your friend's house. Closing the door, they noticed the music was barely heard. "Soundproof?" Sam asked.
"Seems like it."
"Most her rooms are..." You explained, making them look at eachother with a smirk before looking back at you.
"Good. You won't have to worry about screaming our names too loudly tonight then." Sam said.
"W-wha-" You could barely manage to say before Colby lifted you up and walked you to the bed.
Sitting you down, you looked up at them towering over you again.
"You're not escaping us tonight. You know that, right?" Colby began, crossing his arms.
"We're gonna have that... talk. Right now if we need to." Sam said, making you gulp.
"Can the talk be a bit more... dynamic?" You opened your legs slightly, which made them smirk.
"It was going to be from the start, sweetheart." Colby said with a deep tone, putting his hand on the insides of your thighs, quickly getting his hand closer to your heat. You sighed when you felt it, Sam fixing your hair behind your ear before getting closer to your face for another kiss.
While you kissed back, your legs closed a bit by instinct when you felt him playing with your clit through the fabric of your panties. "She's so wet, Sam." He informed, making Sam chuckle in the middle of the kiss, pushing his tongue deeper inside when you opened your mouth.
They made you lie down on the bed while your heated make out session with Sam didn't give you a second to even breathe. You moaned slightly when you felt your legs being pushed apart.
Sam slowly pulled down your dress, leaving your boobs out in the open, he separated from your lips and sighed. "No bra or anything, it almost seems like she was expecting us to fuck her." He said, pulling back only to see your whole view. "Fuck." He whispered.
Colby took off your damped panties and threw them to the floor, pushing up the skirt of your dress to have a clear view of your pussy.
You could see him licking and biting his lips while admiring the view. While sam went back to your soft, tasty lips, he began kneeding one of your breasts, playing with your nipple. You whined at the feeling, your heart racing at the touch.
Not a minute later, you could feel your legs being slightly lifted and a tongue licking your pussy, making you moan in between the kiss, letting Sam's tongue slip back in once again.
Shaking, you could feel Colby's tongue making circles around your clit, sucking at it, eating you up, making you arch your back at the feeling.
Sam separated from your lips and started giving you wet kisses around your face, slowly descending through your neck and onto your boobs, nibbling at your skin before making its way towars your nipple.
Sucking at it, you moaned softly and held onto his hair for support, while Colby kept on sucking and pushing his tongue inside of you, exploring every inch he's able to.
While Sam started sucking and licking one of your nipples, he made sure you were kept entertained. Putting two of his fingers inside your mouth for you to lick, you began sucking on them while drowning the moans in between.
From all of the stimulation, it didn't take long for you to cum all over Colby's face. He cleaned you up with his tongue, making sure to look at your erotic expressions whilst having Sam's fingers in your mouth, drooling all over them.
They both separated from you. You were filled with a sense of loss for a moment, but nothing that was going to stay for long. Sam sat behind you, making sure you lied your back on his chest while holding one of your breasts and opening up your legs.
Colby, enjoying the view, waited patiently for his friend to make you feel good. "Let's make sure you can suck us up well, yeah?" Said Sam while slowly moving the hand he had in your mouth down to your pussy.
Opening your lips with his fingers, he teased for a moment before pushing inside of you, making you moan and pull back your head on his shoulder.
One finger, then two, then three.
He stretched you up good while Colby was busy taking off his pants and looking at everything his eyes could manage from the view.
"Make sure Colby can see your pretty face." Sam whispered, thrusting quickly with his fingers. You could feel his bulge quickly rising behind you, poking your back.
You did as told, looking at Colby in the eyes while moaning and whining, your legs shaking at the feeling of being stretched out. "Colby... fuck. I need you."
"What do you need, baby?" He asked seductively, putting out his dick while you moaned at Sam's teeth biting onto your skin.
"You.. your dick... please." You whined.
"You want him to also make you feel good?" Sam asked while squishing one of your boobs and you nodded rapidly.
"Yeah. Yeah, please. Oh, fuck. Please." Pleading in such an erotic way, they couldn't just say no. Sam's fingers left you right before you were on the edge of yet another orgasm, but it didn't take long for something even better to take its place.
Colby's tip was slowly pushing in, making sure to not hurt you. You opened your mouth, taking out your tongue as the feeling was euphoric. He got closer and sucked on it before kissing you.
When he was completely inside, he began thrusting slowly but surely. Quickly speeding up when he felt you were already getting used to his length.
Moaning his name out, you looked back at Sam and whined for him as well, touching his erection from behind you, making him grunt. "Sam. Take... take it out." You panted in between moans.
And he did as told, quickly pulling out his dick while getting on his knees so that you could quickly hold it and put it inside your hot, wet mouth. "Oh, fuck." He let out when he felt your tongue up his friend.
You were quick to put it inside your mouth, bobbing your head up and down while getting railed up by Colby. The vibration of your moans sent shivers down Sam's spine. Holding your head up for support, he began thrusting inside your mouth as well.
It was a dream come true, you were on cloud 9, almost fainting at the pleasure you were receiving from both ends.
You didn't take long to cum, neither did them. After all, those teasing were killing them as well, they were just trying to hold it long enough for you to release yourself first.
You gulped down Sam's juices before pulling out, panting when he did. You were beat. If you barely had any strength before due to the recent investigation, now you were sure of it.
They made sure to clean you up before fixing your dress, giving you kisses all over your body, looking at the now visible hickeys all over your skin. "Gotta let people know you're taken. We can't have what happened before again." Colby whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek.
Breathing heavily, you nodded at them, not even entirely sure what you were agreeing upon.
"Well, that was a nice chat, was it not?" Sam said, smiling at your wobbly self.
"It really was, glad we could clear things up, right?" Colby continued. "I mean, I'm guessing you understand what we meant, right?"
You looked at him, getting your breath back together, smiling. "That you're my boys?" You asked, "Or maybe you have to explain it all over again, maybe I didn't understand what you meant."
They looked at eachother, smirking. "Then let us explain it again."
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
"come over here and kiss me on my hot mouth, i'm feelin' romantical."
thank you so much for reading <3 //also last part isn't a cliffhanger, we all know they went for round two, the end
smol taglist from those that wanted pt 3 *(sorry if you didn't want to be tagged): @oh-prettylady @lemonnightmare @honey-bees-13 @jupiter1700
~nikkõ
1K notes · View notes
shdysders · 2 months ago
Text
a cold table II
pairing: vada cavell & female reader
summary: in which vada deals with the consequences of actions she barely remembers performing.
word count: 5.9k
author’s note: this is the first imagine i ever actually planned to write a part two for.
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You didn't show up to school the next day.
Vada had woken up to a pounding headache and an uneasy feeling in her gut, remnants of last night's reckless decisions swirling in her mind.
The dim light filtering through her curtains had felt like daggers against her eyelids, and she winced as she recalled fragments of the evening—smoke-filled laughter, Mia's playful teasing, and that moment when everything blurred into a haze.
The first thing she did was open up her phone, hoping to find a familiar good morning message from you, like you always sent.
Instead, all she found were old messages from yesterday that she didn't remember receiving.
You had asked where she was, if she was coming home soon, and reminded her that you loved her.
There was also a message from her mother, ordering her to go to school and stating that she didn't care how much fun Vada had the night before.
And the last part threw Vada off guard; her mother didn't know about Mia or that she had spent most of her evenings with her.
What was she getting at?
For a second she just laid there, the pounding in her head mirroring the whirlwind in her thoughts.
Flashes of the night before invaded her mind—giggling with Mia, the thrill of sneaking away, the haze of smoke, and the way everything spun around her.
Each memory felt like a dagger, twisting deeper as the weight of her actions settled heavily on her chest.
What had she been thinking?
She had always prided herself on being honest and loyal, and yet, here she was—betraying you in the worst way possible.
A glance at her phone brought no comfort. The screen flickered to life with your unanswered messages.
where are you?
are you coming home soon?
i love you.
Her stomach twisted at the thought of you, probably worried and upset, wondering why she hadn't answered. The idea made the heaviness in her chest even more suffocating.
She had to talk to you, but what would she even say? How could she explain what had happened without sounding like a fool?
Would you even want to hear her side? How could she make you understand what she barely remembered herself?
But the more she thought about it, the clearer those memories became. Each flashback hit her harder than the last—the laughter, the reckless decisions, and then Mia.
She had crossed a line, one she never thought she'd cross, and now the shame of it burned in her gut. The realization of what she'd done twisted her insides, making her feel sick.
Vada knew she hadn't been the nicest to you lately.
She had pushed you away more times than she could count, snapping at you when you were only trying to help.
But in her mind, you understood. After everything she'd been through, it felt like she had a free pass to be rude, to shut you out whenever the weight of her emotions got too heavy. You were patient, and she thought you'd always stay.
Now, Vada could picture your face in front of her before she even told you. The hurt, the confusion, the way your eyes would search hers for an explanation she didn't have. It made her stomach turn, imagining the disappointment you'd feel once you knew what she'd done.
Vada felt the panic creeping up again, thinking about how she'd have to come clean. How she'd have to tell you something she could barely admit to herself.
With a deep breath, she rolled over and forced herself out of bed, her legs shaky as if the weight of what she'd done was pulling her down.
She had no choice but to face the day, to face what she had done no matter how much she wanted to hide.
Going to school was unavoidable—especially if she had any hope of seeing you. She needed to talk to you, to explain, to somehow piece together the mess she had made.
She didn't know how she would do it, but she had to try. Seeing you was the only way forward, even if it terrified her.
___
As Vada walked into school, the usual hum of morning chatter felt distant, like it was coming from another world she wasn't a part of.
She kept her head down, her feet moving automatically down the familiar halls, but nothing about today felt right. Her nerves were buzzing, a constant reminder of the mess she'd created.
Mia wasn't here. She wouldn't be for a while—her dads had given her the option to switch to online school, something Mia had been all too eager to take. Vada couldn't help but feel a little jealous; Mia got to avoid all of it.
But you weren't there either.
Vada stopped by your locker, her eyes scanning the hallway, hoping to see your familiar face among the crowd. But there was nothing. No sign of you. Anxiety twisted in her chest, tight and unforgiving. You were always here by now. Where were you?
The absence of both you and Mia only made the weight of everything heavier, sinking deeper into her gut. You had to be here somewhere, right? Maybe you were just late... Or maybe you'd heard something. Maybe you didn't want to face her either.
The thought made her stomach churn even more. She'd been holding onto the slim hope that talking to you would help her make sense of what happened, but now, with you gone, all she had were her racing thoughts.
Vada stood there for a moment, frozen. Everything around her moved in a blur, but inside, she was stuck, unsure what to do next.
She was so deep in her own thoughts that she didn't even notice Nick coming up behind her until he practically jumped into her space.
"Vada!" His voice made her jump, her heart pounding from the suddenness of it. She whipped around to find him grinning, clearly amused by her reaction.
"Fuck," she groaned, clutching her chest, "Could you not?"
"Sorry, sorry," he said, holding his hands up, though the smirk on his face said otherwise. "Just thought I'd say hi since, you know, I didn't see you at all yesterday. Figured you were busy."
Vada blinked, her mind still trying to catch up. "Yesterday?" she repeated, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall what he was talking about. She hadn't been at school, sure, but what did that have to do with anything?
Nick nodded, clearly expecting her to pick up on something she wasn't. When she didn't, his expression shifted slightly, and he glanced away like he was trying to think of a way to backtrack.
"Yeah, you know," he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck as he muttered, "Thought you had some plans or something. So, uh, how was... you know, whatever you were up to?"
Vada felt a flicker of confusion, but she brushed it off. There was no way Nick could know she'd been with Mia last night.
Her head was already pounding with everything else, and she wasn't ready to unpack whatever Nick was hinting at.
Vada hesitated, her mind blank. The truth of what she'd actually been doing last night was a tangled mess she wasn't about to dive into with Nick. Not here, not now.
"It was... fine," she said, trying to sound casual, though even she could hear the strain in her voice. Her stomach twisted at the thought of what really happened.
Nick seemed to sense the shift, his smile fading just a little. "You good?"
Vada forced a shrug, not wanting to get into everything. "Yeah, just... tired, I guess."
Nick gave her a knowing look. "Right. Late night?"
She nodded, not offering much more. "Something like that."
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his tone casual but curious. "So... you did have fun?"
At first, Vada didn't catch the weight of his question. She glanced over at him, squinting slightly. "What do you mean?"
Nick blinked, caught off guard. "You know... last night? Thought maybe you were out doing something special."
The confusion on Vada's face was clear now, and Nick quickly backtracked, not wanting to press further. "Ah, forget it. I probably got the wrong idea," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe it was nothing."
Vada frowned, her stomach knotting up tighter. What was he talking about?
Her thoughts kept drifting back to you as they began moving through the crowded hallway, her phone in hand, checking for any messages that weren't there. You were always the first to text in the morning, but today, there was nothing.
"Hey, uh," she began, glancing up at Nick, "Do you know where Y/n is? Is she sick or something? She didn't text me."
Nick frowned slightly, his confusion deepening. "Wait, she didn't text you?"
Vada shook her head, pulling her phone out and glancing at the empty screen as if it might somehow change. "Yeah, nothing."
He scratched the back of his head, clearly thrown off. "Weird. I thought you guys were, like, together yesterday."
Vada's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean together?"
Nick hesitated, his eyes flicking between her and the hallway ahead. "I don't know, I just assumed. You guys are always together. Figured she'd be with you or something. Guess I got it wrong."
Vada felt her chest tighten. There was something about the way Nick said it that left her even more uneasy. He didn't seem to be making sense, and the idea that you could've been anywhere near her last night without her remembering hit her like a wave of panic.
"Oh," she muttered, trying to brush it off, "Yeah, no, I haven't seen her."
Nick glanced at her, his confusion lingering, but he didn't press it further. The silence stretched between them as they continued down the hall, but Vada's mind was spinning. If Nick thought you had been with her... then what had she forgotten?
"I wouldn't worry too much. She'll probably show up." Nick added, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yeah," Vada muttered, but her mind was racing with worry. What if something had happened? Or worse, what if you knew about it? About what she'd done.
Before the class started and the teacher began talking, Vada quickly pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed out a message to you.
sorry i didn't answer yesterday. i'm at school rn though. are you not coming?
She stared at the screen for a moment, her thumb hovering over the send button before finally pressing it.
By the time she got home, she found herself curled up on the couch in her family's living room, her phone still in her hand. Throughout the day, she had sent you a few more messages, each one more desperate than the last.
are you sick?
or are you sleeping?
why aren't you answering?
i'm really sorry for not texting you back. please talk to me.
do you want me to come over?
Her fingers hovered over the screen, the guilt gnawing at her. She kept typing out new messages, only to delete them again, unsure of what else she could say. Nothing felt like enough, and the silence on your end was only making things worse.
At first, when you didn't answer in the morning, Vada had convinced herself that you were just asleep, hoping that was the reason for your silence.
But now, with the time creeping closer to four o'clock, that thought wasn't offering much comfort anymore. Her hope was fading fast, replaced by a gnawing pit of anxiety that only seemed to grow with each passing hour.
Finally, she typed out one last message, her heart racing as she pressed send.
have you heard anything?
It was vague, but it was all she could manage. She didn't want to admit the fear that had settled in—fear that you might have heard something about her night with Mia.
She didn't even know from whom you could have possibly heard it, but the thought of you being upset gnawed at her.
The TV flickered to life in the background, the news anchor's voice blending into a monotonous hum as he rambled on about the weather.
Vada barely registered his words; her mind was elsewhere. She had tuned out once the shooting had happened, the memories still raw and haunting.
It wouldn't surprise her if they were still covering it weeks later, discussing the fallout and the victims. The world felt heavy with tragedy, and she couldn't shake the feeling that her own turmoil was just another layer on top of it all.
Amelia was sitting next to her, a little further down the couch but still close enough that Vada could feel her presence.
Surprisingly, Amelia seemed to be paying attention to the news, her eyes fixed on the screen while playing with her hair, probably just trying to figure out what the weather would be like tomorrow so she could plan her outfit.
Every few minutes, though, Amelia would glance over at Vada, a hopeful and excited look crossing her face, like she was waiting for Vada to say something—something she didn't know yet.
Vada could sense the anticipation in her sister, as if Amelia was expecting to be let in on a secret, her eyes practically begging for some kind of revelation. But Vada had nothing to say, nothing to offer.
So when she realized Vada wasn't going to say anything, she couldn't hold it in any longer. Practically bouncing in her seat, a wide grin spread across her face as she blurted out, "Did she give you a gift?"
Her voice was filled with excitement, the kind of eagerness that only Amelia could manage, her tone bright and full of energy.
It was like she couldn't contain her curiosity, and her entire expression lit up with that signature look of hers—one that always made Vada feel like Amelia was living vicariously through her.
Her whole face lit up with a smile, as if she was already imagining the details in her head, too giddy to sit still.
Vada turned to Amelia, her brow furrowing in confusion, eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to make sense of her sister's words. "What are you talking about?"
Amelia's grin faltered for a moment, her excitement dimming as she sat up straighter, turning fully toward Vada. Her brows lifted, like she was waiting for something to click. "You know, a gift," she repeated slowly, her voice a little more deliberate now, as if she thought Vada was joking or trying to mess with her.
Vada's face remained blank, still not catching on, and Amelia's smile wavered again. She leaned in a little, her expression shifting from playful to confused, the eagerness fading just a bit.
"For your anniversary?" Amelia's voice softened, her tone almost hesitant now, as if she was starting to wonder if she'd gotten it wrong.
Vada blinked, her confusion deepening, and it must've shown on her face because Amelia's smile disappeared entirely, replaced by a puzzled frown.
Amelia's frown deepened, her brows knitting together as she tilted her head slightly, studying Vada's blank expression. "Wait... you guys had that dinner yesterday, right? For your anniversary?"
Vada blinked again, her stomach sinking as she felt a wave of unease wash over her. She could see Amelia searching her face, looking for confirmation, but Vada had no idea what she was talking about.
"Anniversary dinner?" Vada repeated, her voice uncertain, as she tried to piece together what she had clearly missed. Her mind raced, flipping through the events of the past day, but all she could recall was being with Mia.
Vada's heart slammed against her chest, panic creeping in as she grabbed her phone with shaky hands. Her mind raced as she unlocked it, her gaze locking onto the date.
November 23rd.
Her breath hitched. Yesterday.
November 22nd—the date that should've meant everything.
Three years ago, on that day, she had asked you to be her girlfriend. Three years.
Her stomach churned as guilt surged through her, heavy and unrelenting. How could she have forgotten something so important? The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from her lungs. Her thoughts spiraled, tangled in disbelief and regret.
She'd missed your three-year anniversary.
The thought sent a shiver down her spine; you two always found a way to celebrate your love, no matter how many years passed.
It was a tradition that reminded you both of the bond you'd nurtured since the beginning—a promise that, no matter what life threw your way, you'd always have each other.
Her fingers tightened around the phone, warmth creeping to her cheeks as shame took hold. She hadn't just failed to text you back; she'd failed to honor the day that had meant so much to both of you.
With each shallow breath, the weight of her mistake deepened, twisting in her gut like a knot that wouldn't untangle. How could she have been so careless?
When she finally tore her eyes away from her phone and looked back at Amelia, her sister's hopeful expression had dimmed slightly, her confusion evident. But Vada couldn't focus on that now.
Instead her thoughts spiraled back to last night, who she had been with. She could picture the laughter, the warmth of the moment shared with Mia, how effortlessly they had fallen into each other's company. They had talked for hours, their conversation weaving a tapestry of familiarity and intimacy that felt so right during the haze.
But that only deepened the ache in her chest now. The joy of being with someone else, the carefree way they had spent the evening together, felt like a betrayal in the light of what she had neglected with you.
Vada recalled every smile, every touch that had drawn her into that bubble of happiness, yet it was overshadowed by the guilt of not being present for the one person who actually mattered.
How could she have forgotten the significance of that day, when you had been there all along, waiting for her to acknowledge it?
Vada's heart raced as the weight of her realization crashed down on her.
Everything made sense now—the way Nick had been acting at school, the way he'd looked at her with that questioning gaze.
And her mother's text echoed in her mind. "I don't care how much fun you had yesterday." It hit her like a ton of bricks.
She was supposed to come home that night, to be with you. You had planned something special, something to celebrate.
But Vada couldn't remember seeing you when she got home. She couldn't even recall what time she had stumbled through the door.
Had you given up and arrived home before she did? The thought made her stomach twist painfully.
"Oh my God." Her voice came out shaky, barely above a whisper. Panic surged through her, and she jumped to her feet, almost stumbling over the couch in her haste.
Without a second thought, she sprinted into the hall, her mind a blur. She fumbled with her shoes, barely bothering to tie them as she slipped them on. Amelia's voice echoed from the living room, filled with confusion and concern. "Vada! Where are you going?"
But Vada couldn't focus on her question. All she could think about was you, the hurt she had caused, and the urgency to make things right.
The front door swung open, and she bolted outside, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she raced down the path, adrenaline propelling her forward.
Vada ran, her heart pounding in sync with her frantic steps. She barely registered the freezing autumn air cutting through her skin, the chill seeping into her bones as she dashed through the streets in her basketball shorts.
The cold didn't matter; nothing mattered except getting to you.
Each stride felt like an act of desperation, a desperate push against the guilt weighing heavily on her heart.
She knew she had to see you, to face you, to tell you everything. The thought of what she had done loomed over her like a dark cloud—she had slept with someone else, and it had been on your anniversary.
The weight of that betrayal twisted in her gut, and she felt sick with the knowledge that she had shattered something precious between you.
She couldn't go another second without telling you what had happened, without laying bare the truth that had been eating away at her. 
But the second she stood outside your house, knocking on your door with a trembling fist, the weight of her guilt crushed down on her.
When the door swung open, revealing you on the other side—your worn T-shirt clinging to your frame, messy hair catching the light in just the right way—her throat tightened, and she felt like her mouth was sealed shut.
You looked so effortlessly beautiful, as you always did, and the sight of you made her heart ache even more.
The words she had rehearsed over and over vanished from her mind on the way there, replaced by an overwhelming rush of emotion.
All she could do was stare at you, her heart pounding loudly in her ears, the enormity of the moment leaving her frozen in place.
You tried to give her a tired smile as you stood by the door, the familiar warmth of her presence mixing with the cool evening air.
"Hey," you said, your voice gentle yet tinged with exhaustion. But Vada couldn't reply. She just stood there, her eyes wide, taking in the sight of you.
The way your hair fell softly around your face, how your expression shifted from surprise to concern—it all hit her like a tidal wave.
You were her girl, the one she had almost forgotten in the chaos of the past weeks.
In that moment, everything else faded away—the frigid autumn air, the urgency of her earlier thoughts—all that mattered was you.
Yet, as the silence stretched between you, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. Vada trembled, her heart racing as she searched your face, desperate for understanding.
With each passing second, the realization of her mistake clawed at her insides.
The memories of last night flooded back, the laughter, the thrill, and the way she had betrayed you—all of it crashed down like a storm. She felt a lump rise in her throat, and finally, the words slipped out, barely audible. "I'm sorry."
Tears began to pool in her eyes, glimmering like shattered glass in the dim light, each one a testament to the guilt and regret that had been building up inside her.
She wanted to explain, to tell you everything about what happened with Mia, but the truth felt lodged deep within her, impossible to express. All she could do was stand there, shaking, waiting for your response, wishing she could take it all back.
Your eyes searched hers, reflecting confusion and hurt, and she felt her heart break at the sight. The silence hung like a thick fog, and in that moment, she realized just how much she had risked.
The fear of losing you washed over her, and she fought back the tears, wishing more than anything that you could understand how truly sorry she was.
You looked at her, brow furrowing in confusion. "Sorry for what?" you asked, but you knew exactly what she was talking about.
Still, you needed her to say it. You wanted to hear the truth come from her lips, to know she was ready to face what she had done.
The silence stretched out between you, charged with unspoken feelings. As she trembled, tears pooling in her eyes, your heart ached for her, for the pain that had driven her to this moment.
You needed her to confront it, to acknowledge the hurt—not just for you, but for herself, too.
So you watched her, waiting for the truth you already knew she was fighting against.
Vada didn't want to tell you. Her mind screamed at her to keep it inside, to bury it somewhere deep where neither of you would have to face it.
But her mouth—the one that always said too much, the one that never knew when to stop—was on the verge of betraying her again.
She shook her head, her hands trembling as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest, trying to hold it all in.
But the words pushed at the back of her throat, her lips quivering as she tried to bite them back. Her thoughts were racing, tumbling over each other.
Don't say it. Don't. You'll lose her. You can't say it.
But the more she tried to keep it in, the harder it got. Vada felt her chest tighten, like there was no room left for her guilt, her shame, or her fear. Her too-big mouth, always moving when it shouldn't, was about to undo her.
"I—" She stammered, her voice breaking. "I didn't mean to... I didn't..." She could feel the truth clawing its way out, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop it. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision as she looked at you, her heart in her throat.
"I'm sorry I forgot. I wanted to be with you, I swear. I was... I don't know, I just... I don't know what happened." Vada's voice cracked as she rambled, words spilling out before she could stop them.
Her hands shook, and she ran them through her hair, her breathing uneven. "I didn't mean to forget. I don't even know how I did, but I did, and I'm sorry."
She looked at you, her eyes wide with panic, like she was searching for a way to fix something she knew she couldn't. "I should've been with you, I know that. I just... I don't know what happened."
There was no real excuse, and she knew that. She wasn't just talking about forgetting the anniversary anymore, and the weight of that realization pressed down on her chest.
Her words tumbled out in a shaky rush, her breath catching between sentences as she struggled to form coherent thoughts. She looked frantic, her hands tugging at her hair as if trying to pull herself back to the present, back to you.
"I wanted to be with you," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper now, almost like she was pleading with herself as much as with you.
Her gaze flicked from your face to the ground, then back to your eyes, searching for any sign that she could make this right, that somehow she hadn't ruined everything.
But the more she tried to explain, the more lost she seemed to become, her mind spinning in circles she couldn't escape.
Vada's heart thudded loudly in her ears as she braced herself for your reaction, her mind running wild with what was about to happen.
She tried to prepare for the look on your face—the anger, the hurt, maybe even the disgust she thought she deserved. Would you yell? Walk away? She didn't know what was coming, but she felt like she had it coming, something heavy, something unbearable.
Her throat tightened as she tried to continue, the words sticking like they didn't want to come out. Her hands clenched into fists by her sides as she stammered,
"I was with—"
But before she could finish, you interrupted, your voice calm but firm. "I know."
The simple statement stopped her in her tracks. Her breath caught in her chest, and she froze, staring up at you in shock.
Her heart pounded, her mind scrambling for words that wouldn't make things worse, but nothing came.
How could you possibly know?
She had barely been able to admit it to herself, let alone think of how to explain it to you. Her hands fidgeted nervously at her sides, and she felt a knot forming in her stomach, waiting for your answer, dreading it just as much.
"How?" Her lips trembled, and she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from yours.
Confusion and guilt churned in her chest, making her feel even more trapped in this moment she couldn't escape.
Your lips twitched into something that almost resembled a smile, but there was no joy behind it. It was more of a bitter acknowledgment, the kind of smile that comes when things hurt too much to be angry. "You really don't remember?"
Vada's panic surged as the reality of the situation settled in. What did you mean by that? she thought, her mind racing with uncertainty.
Had she really messed up so badly that you knew something she didn't?
Did Mia tell you? Her stomach churned at the thought. She racked her brain, trying to piece together the night before. Had she called you?
Was there something she had said that she couldn't remember? The more she tried to recall, the more her memories slipped through her fingers like sand.
She felt lightheaded, the cold autumn air biting at her skin, but she barely noticed. All she could focus on was the fear that clawed at her insides.
What if you knew everything? She couldn't face that possibility. Her heart raced, and she searched your face desperately for clues, wondering if you were hiding something from her or if you were simply waiting for her to spill the truth.
What do you know? The thought screamed inside her, but she couldn't say it.
Instead, she blinked, her voice barely audible as she stammered, "What... what do you mean?"
You watched her closely, gauging the reaction that flickered across her face. "You were with Mia," you said, your voice steady.
"You guys got drunk, smoked weed, and then you fucked.. I mean, that's what you told me last night, but was there something else?"
Vada's eyes widened in disbelief, the reality of your words crashing over her like a cold wave.
She could hardly breathe, the weight of her actions crashing down upon her. "No... I..." she started, her voice shaky as she tried to piece together the fragments of her memory.
She felt exposed, vulnerable under your gaze, like she was standing naked before you. She knew what she had done, but hearing it laid out so plainly made it feel more real, more unforgivable.
The fear of what she had lost clawed at her insides, and she felt tears prick at her eyes as she searched for the right words. How could she explain it? How could she make you understand?
Her heart raced as she struggled to form the words, each syllable heavier than the last. "I'm so sorry," she stammered, desperation lacing her voice. "I was drunk... I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I swear, I only want you."
She took a shaky breath, trying to gather herself, but the emotions swirled inside her like a storm.
"You're the one I care about, the one I want to be with. I messed up, and I get that, but please... please don't think that it means I don't love you." Her hands trembled at her sides as she met your eyes, searching for a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos she had created.
"I just... I was caught up in the moment and didn't think about anything else. But you—you're everything to me, and I don't want to lose you." The panic surged through her again, threatening to swallow her whole, and she felt the sting of tears welling up as she awaited your response, hoping against hope that it wouldn't be the end.
You didn't even look mad as you stood there, shifting the weight to your other leg. Your expression calm, almost resigned, as you simply said, “It's fine, Vada."
But it's anything but fine. The words hit her like a punch to the gut, and she felt her heart drop even further. She didn't want you to be fine with it.
She wanted you to react, to feel the same rage and hurt that churned inside her.
Vada wished you would hit her, punch her, push her, or spit in her face—anything but brush it off like it didn't matter.
Your calmness made everything feel worse. But you continued, your voice steady but laced with a sadness that made her stomach twist. "I get that you're going through a lot right now."
But then, the air around her grew heavy as you added, "I just... I think it's best if we spend some time apart."
The finality of your words crashed over her, and Vada felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her.
Time seemed to stand still as she processed what you'd just said, the reality of the situation sinking in.
Every part of her screamed for you to reconsider, to understand how much she needs you, but she couldn't find the words.
Panic flooded her senses as she stared at you, her heart racing. "No, please don't say that," she said desperately, wanting to reach out, wanting to beg you not to walk away.
But she felt a heavy weight settle in her chest as she realized there was nothing else she could do. Nothing she could say would change what you wanted. And nothing she could do would change what she'd done.
When you made your mind up about something, it was like hitting a brick wall—there was no going back, no changing your decision. She always admired your resolve, but now that same strength felt suffocating, leaving her totally and utterly powerless.
She watched helplessly as a faint smile crossed your lips, though it didn't reach your eyes. "I'll see you at school, Vada," you said softly, the finality of your words echoing in her mind.
The urge to scream your name was building inside her, to fall to her knees and beg for your forgiveness. Every fiber of her being wanted to cry out, to make you see how much she needed you, how sorry she was.
But for once, her mouth was sealed shut. She couldn't force the words out.
If she tried to speak, she feared she'd either throw up from the overwhelming guilt, or worse—say something that would ruin everything beyond repair. So she stood there, paralyzed, as you offered that faint, distant smile.
Before she could respond, you turned and closed the door, leaving her standing alone on the porch, a whirlwind of emotions crashing around her.
As the door clicked shut, the finality of it echoed in Vada's ears, louder than the pounding in her chest. She stared at the door, half-expecting you to open it again, to tell her you were just angry, that things would be okay. But the silence was deafening, and the cold night air wrapped around her like a vice.
For a moment, she stood there, frozen in place, waiting for something—anything—that wouldn't come.
And then, finally, the weight of it all hit her. Her legs gave out, and she sank onto the porch steps, burying her face in her hands as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. There was nothing she could do now, nothing left to say. You were gone, and she was the one who had driven you away.
Her body shook with sobs, and the world felt emptier than it ever had.
556 notes · View notes
thevoidstaredback · 3 months ago
Text
Barry knew something was wrong when he woke up that morning, but he couldn't place what. There was nothing wrong in the house, nor with his family. His team were as normal as they could be, and none of his rogues had gotten out, nor was anyone causing any trouble in Central City. Then, just as he'd gotten off work at the police station, an emergency meeting for the Justice League was called. Ugh, David's gonna be pissed that he has to call out again!
The Watchtower, when he got there, was a mess. Heroes were obviously panicking, and there must be magic users on board because there were things flying every which way. The meeting room, however, was somehow worse.
"What the hell is going on?" The Flash demanded after ducking behind a chair.
"Constantine and Deadman are on a warpath!" Aquaman helpfully supplied from where he was hidden behind his own chair.
"I gathered that much," Flash shouted over the noise of a chair being shattered against the wall behind him.
Aquaman scowled at him. "The hell do you want me to say? I don't know what's got them so upset!
The door opened again, announcing Batman's presence. He cleared his throat and the room instantly fell silent. Things kept flying around, but they were much more lax than they had been. Cautiously, the gathered heroes emerged from their makeshift hiding places to sit in their chairs.
"What's this about, Constantine?" the Dark Knight asked once everyone was seated.
Instead of the Brit, the ghost beside him was the one to answer. "You idiots-" he growled, "-have really fucked up this time!" he shouted.
Flash idly noticed that only the heroes operating in America were present. Huh. He had a dream just like this last night!
Or was it the night before?
"Slow down," Wonder Woman said. The Flash quietly joined her for her next line, "What's going on?"
The Flash continued to speak with Constantine, his voice quiet and simultaneous with the magic user's, "The US Government are more aware than any of us-" Flash's voice got louder as he spoke with the occultist. Aquaman side-eyed him. "-are comfortable with. The fact that they hid it 'til now is baffling."
"Flash?" Aquaman muttered to him, "Are you okay?"
Flash shook his head and continued speaking in tandem with Deadman, his eyes going wide. "It's been brought to my attention that your government has been targeting my people." The ghost was now looking at Flash, too.
Flash finished for him, "They've taken a child."
Ulike his dream, the room was silent. Everyone's eyes were on The Flash.
"Flash?" Superman asked, "What's going on?"
"Time Loop."
Several tense seconds that Flash knew they couldn't afford to waste passed. Batman said, "Time loop?"
Flash nodded. "Time Loop."
"What do you know?" Wonder Woman asked.
"The government took a child. We need to get to Amity Park, Illinois and get a handle on the-" he looked to Deadman, "-ghosts?" When Deadman nodded, he continued, "Ghosts and see if we can get any information out of them."
Zatanna entered the room then, just as Barry remembered she would, turning the projector on and joining Constantine and Deadman at the front of the room. She didn't start speaking, though. Instead, it was Constantine.
"Phantom's a small time hero in Amity Park. For a while, he was the only thing standing between an interdimensional war." He looked The Flash in the eye, "How many loops is this?"
If Zatanna was surprised about the whole time loop revelation, she hid it well.
Flash shook his head. "Two, I think."
Batman took over the conversation from there, Robin at his side, probably communicating with his own team. "Flash and Superman, you need to check everywhere for Phantom; keep your comms on and open. Zatanna, Constantine, and Deadman, I want all the information you have yesterday. Everyone else, set up a perimeter ten miles out from Amity Park-"
Deadman froze, just as Barry knew he would, and disappeared. Zatanna's and Constantine's phones both started ringing. Then, the alarm started to blare.
"Robin," Batman continued through the noise of the heroes jumping into action, "What do you have for me?"
"Amity Park, Illinois," the young vigilante stated, reading the information off of his wrist computer's holo-screen and relaying it as quickly and coherently as he could, "It boasts to be the most haunted place in America. It's a hot spot for ghost hunters, though other supernatural 'experts' frequent there. Other than that, there's a firewall completely blocking off information coming out of the town. I don't think it's a stretch to say that there's limited, or at least filtered, information going into the town."
"Hm." Batman tapped his comm, "Cyborg, get me all the information about this town as you can."
"Got it."
"Robin,"
"On it, B."
"Hn."
***
Barbra was having a pretty normal day. She'd had a pretty good day at school, finished all her homework, and had even gotten to spend some time with her dad! Then, just as she was ready to go out as Batgirl, Batman called her.
Normally, Batman calling her isn't a cause for alarm. However, she knew for a fact that he was with the Justice League today. It was why she was getting ready to go out so early!
Ghosts, as it turns out, are elusive. Whether it's purposeful or not, it doesn't matter. What does matter is why the hell Batman, who hates dealing with anything supernatural, needs her to find information on ghosts of all beings!
She really wants to know what goes on in that man's head.
Actually, no, she really doesn't.
"Hey, Dickie," she greeted.
"Hey, Barbie," there was a smile in his voice, "What's up?"
Right the the chase. "B's acting weird."
A goran. "What'd he do this time?"
The hostility when talking about Bruce was not lost to her. "He's got me looking into ghosts. Any idea why?"
"Ghosts? He's with the JL today. Wally said there was an emergency meeting called about an hour ago."
"That's what I thought! But he just called and has me looking into ghosts. You think there's a correlation there?"
A sigh. "Most likely. Why doesn't he just ask the JLD? You've got more important things to be doing than doing research for him."
"Aw," she cooed exaggeratedly, "You do care!" She could practically hear his eyes rolling on the other end of the line. "Anyay, while I've got you here, are you gonna be coming to Gotham any time soon? I haven't seen you in a while."
Dick was quiet for a moment, the small chime of an incoming call making him groan in frustration. "Probably a lot sooner than I would like."
"Oh?"
"Bruce's calling. I'll let ya know what he says."
"Got it. Good luck, D."
"I'll need it." he scoffed, hanging up.
What a mess.
Part 6 Part 8
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onlyhereforthestories · 2 months ago
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Tell Me Some Things Last (Alexia Putellas x Reader)
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Sorry I didn't get this out yesterday! Hope you enjoy 😊
Take my mind take my pain like an empty bottle takes the rain and heal
Pain. That’s all you could feel, pain. And not even physical pain, it’s the kind of pain that consumes your mind and leaves you empty. When they said break ups could literally bring you to your knees you didn’t realise how true they were. Christen had literally just torn you to pieces without much more thought than “It’s just not what I want anymore y/n.” You wished you could say you saw it coming you really did but you didn’t. Up until the words came out of her mouth you thought you were both happy.
You didn’t have anywhere to go; the weather was damp and dark, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You sat on a bench in a park not far from your now ex’s apartment soaking in the rain as it fell. You wanted nothing more for this pain to stop, to fade into the background so you could breathe again. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop or fade it just sat there on your chest like it never wanted to leave.
You weren’t sure how long passed but you knew it was a significantly long period of time, the night had settled in, and the clouds had grown stormier. When the crack of thunder started was when you got up to leave, you were already soaked to the bone and shaking, not that you really cared. A fleeting thought that scared you to your core, that closed off mindless feeling was something you didn’t want to fall back into.
But you were, you could feel it.
Take my past and take my sins, like an empty sail takes the wind and heal
6 months passed pretty quickly after Christen broke up with you, when you go through the days on autopilot its quite easy to get swept along without a care. You woke up, ate breakfast, had training, ate lunch, had strength sessions and then went home to have dinner and sleep before repeating it again.
Game days were the hardest for you, it was the main time you had to interact with her. Goals were celebrated and team huddles were a thing that you couldn’t avoid like at training. You were pretty stoic on the field anyway, so your current wall wasn’t too different to your game face which meant that the fans didn’t really pick up on your change in mood and behaviour. You were playing each game as a means to the end now, you had put in to be transferred as soon as the breakup had happened, and you had found out that you had gotten a few offers yesterday in a meeting with your manager.
You had yet to find out who the offers were from, but you were just happy to be getting away from the current climate you were a part of. You really wanted to leave the past where it is now, you wanted to get out of here and never look back. You hoped with everything you were that leaving here, leaving all this in the past would help you move on from her. That it would help you heal.
And tell me some things last
It was your final game, no one knew it yet, but you did. It was the first time you had felt joy going into a game and you wanted to leave the fans with something to remember you by. They were always so supportive and if it weren’t for Christen and the situation with her you wouldn’t be leaving them.
Football has been all you’ve had in the last 4 month; it has been the only constant and the fans had given you the push you needed to keep going. You knew football would always be something that lasts for you.
And tell me some things last
You won the game; you had scored a goal too just to top it off. You were doing a slow lap of the pitch interacting with as many fans as you could and signing everything possible. You had lost your top and your cleats along the way not that you cared, you wouldn’t need the jersey anyway. You didn’t want to keep it; you didn’t want to remember they end of your time at this club you just wanted to move on.
You were nearing the tunnel when a young girl called your name, she had a shirt with your name on in her hands and she was bouncing on her toes as you made eye contact with her. you headed in her direction and signed her shirt, she asked for a photo so you hooked your hands under her arms and placed her on your hip so her guardians could snap the photo. You were chatting to her about the game and where she plays when she caught you off guard, “Where are you leaving to?”
You stood shocked with the girl who could only have been 7 sitting looking at you, none of your teammates had picked up on your slight change in behaviour or your hesitation to leave the field but this little girl had. They do say kids pick up on everything. “How do you know I won’t be playing here anymore?” You gave her a little tickle to let her know she wasn’t in trouble for asking.
“You have stayed out here with us for so long, that normally only happens when someone is saying goodbye without actually saying it.” you shook your head slightly with a smile and gave the girl a squeeze.
You walked her back over to where she watched the game and handed her back, just before you gave her back you whispered in her ear. “Don’t tell anyone but you will see me in Spain next season.” You pulled back with a small wink and watched as the little girl beamed at you wishing you luck and telling you hopefully, she’ll be able to see you play again soon.
You quickly got who you found out to be her aunt’s email so you could make sure that you could make that come true for the girl.
Take my heart and take my hand like an ocean takes the dirty sands and heal
Barcelona had been good for you the moment your plane landed on the tarmac, the sun shining down on you making your body feel warm for probably the first time in 6 months. You had 2 weeks to settle in and explore the city before preseason started and you would have to get used to being a teammate again.
You spent the 2 weeks being a tourist and learning some of the language, you went to all the spots you got told were tourist traps, you tried loads of different local foods and explored the coffee shops around your apartment.
Before you knew it you were putting on your training kit and getting ready to be introduced as the latest member of the Culers. You had just done all your management stuff like contracts and photos with the president which meant you were meeting the team a little into their training session.
You walked out into the sunshine and strolled up to Jona on the side lines. He shook your hand and called all the girls in to introduce you, which you did before he could. “Hola chicas, I’m y/n and I am honoured to get to play alongside you for the next hopefully few seasons. I am sorry about my lack of Spanish I am working on it but for now bear with me.”
You looked round the group of smiling women, you recognised pretty much all of them, but you made a mental note to make sure you interact with Keira, Lucy and Frida as you knew they spoke your native language. What shocked you was your reaction to locking eyes with beautiful brown ones that held such a soft look towards you. You could feel your body tingle with something you haven’t felt in a long time and that was really scary.
Alexia stepped towards you to introduce herself properly, taking her captain duties properly as well as the fact that she felt a pull towards you. She reached out and took your hand in a soft handshake as she welcomed you to her hometown club.
Take my mind take my pain like an empty bottle takes the rain and heal
You had been playing in Barcelona for 6 months now, and you could quite honestly say it had been the best 6 months of not only your life but your career too. Everything just felt right, you were playing the best you ever had, you worked well with everyone on the team, and you weren’t missing your old life.
What was holding you back was your past, more specifically the pain you still felt lingering in your heart when you saw Christen and Tobin’s relationship plastered over the internet. You weren’t jealous, you really weren’t, you had not loved Christen for a long while now. The pain was caused by the fact that you never let yourself talk about what happened, never found out what you did to make Christen not love you anymore.
You had been pretty good at keeping your mind off of it when you were with the team until today. You found yourself alone in the changing rooms after a pretty long training day or so you thought, you heard muffled voices coming from the toilets and picked up on Frida’s voice. You had no idea who she was talking too, and you were going to pick up your stuff and leave unit you heard the name you had been avoiding.
“Have you seen Christen and Tobin’s post. I really admire them for the way they have slowly introduced their relationship to the world without actually announcing it. it makes you wonder how long they have been together doesn’t it…” You stopped listening after that, the sentence piercing your heart. You grabbed your stuff and bolted to the door; you could feel the tears starting to fall before you could even get out of the changing rooms. As you pushed at the door it was pulled from the other side and you almost ran into Alexia. She managed to catch your shoulders with her hands before you could topple the both of you over, she went to speak but stopped as soon as you looked up at her.
The sight broke her heart, you looked so broken. Without saying anything she whipped the tears from your face and reached for your hand, which you let her do and followed behind her as she dragged you out of the facility and into her car.
You stared out the window as she drove, you weren’t sure where you were going but at this moment you didn’t care. You just wanted to get away from any talk of your ex and her perfect relationship.
When Alexia pulled the car up and got out you were slightly confused, you could see the beach from the car window, and you felt the weight on your chest already starting to lift. You were so caught up in your thoughts that Alexia got to your car door before you could even think about opening it.
“Come on let go walk.” She holds out her hand in front of you and you didn’t hesitate to take it. She pulled you out of the car and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go and walking towards the crashing waves.
The two of you walked side by side for about 20 minutes before you spoke up. “Christen is my ex, she wasn’t with Tobin a year ago she was with me, or so I think. She broke up with me because she just didn’t feel anything for me anymore, like you can just suddenly not love someone. I haven’t spoken about this with anyone because we never told anyone outside her family, she didn’t want to. Maybe that should have been my first warning sign. Looking back on it now, I know it wasn’t a relationship that was going to last, but I still gave her my all and I have no idea what I did wrong. What I did for her to not love me, for it not to last.”
Alexia let you speak; she waited as you paused to think about the next thing you wanted to say and then continued to listen when you carried on speaking. She sat down next to you when you took a seat after you’d said all you needed to say, and she just sat there while you processed it all. After about 10 minutes of silently listening to the waves you turned to the slightly older woman, “Thank you.”
“You have nothing to thank me for.” The reply made your lips quirk up, of course she plays down her importance in this current moment.
“I have everything to thank you for. You have listened to me spill my shit, you have taken time out of your day to take me away from the situation earlier without a thought or knowing why I wasn’t okay. And you haven’t left, you’ve stayed.” You reached out and grabbed her hand hoping to get her to really listen to how thankful you are for her right now.
She moved her hand around a littler to interlace your fingers. “I would do a lot for you and that is all I’m going to say for now. But just know that there is more to that statement and that when you are ready, I will tell you.” You could feel your cheeks heating up. You knew your attraction to the Spanish superstar was there but having that conversation right after crying over an ex probably wasn’t the best idea. No matter how over that woman you were.
You sat on the beach with the woman you were sure would be a major part of your future for a little while longer, soaking in the setting sun hand in hand until the time came for her to take you home.
And tell me some things last
The Champions League quarter final second leg was fast approaching, and you were nervous. You had played at the Camp Nou stadium a few times now but this game you felt those added nervous of such a big crowd. The first leg hadn’t quite gone as you had all hoped and that meant that there was a less confident energy going into this one.
You were also nervous because your special guests were coming today, you had managed to arrange for Lyla the little girl from your final game at your previous club to be here today. You had even managed to get her to be a mascot too which you had to thank Alexia for, she was the main one to ask the organisers. You had been in contact with her aunt all day and so you knew that she was here and ready to go being as the game was due to start any moment and you needed to walk out.
You walked out of the changing room last like always, head down and mind focused until you heard the excited squeal of your name, “Y/n, Y/n I missed you.” Before you could even think the slightly taller than the last time you saw her girl was throwing herself at you. You managed to catch her under the arms and swing her up onto your hip as you returned the sentiment.
You spoke to her for a small second whilst the rest of the team got ready and waited for the ref’s signal to walk onto the pitch. What you didn’t see was the way Alexia was looking back at you and your interaction with the girl you had flown half a world to see you.
The game had gone pretty much perfectly this time, the only annoyance being that you couldn’t keep a clean sheet. You were walking along clapping the fans with Lucy and Keira when you saw Lyla jumping and waving your way from her place with her aunt, you were quick to excuse yourself and head over.
“Hola chica.” You sent her a little wink at your use of your currents homes language which had the girl giggling “how did you enjoy the game? Pretty cool stadium, right?”
The girls toothy grin and vigorous head nod started her positive answer. “Si.” You cut her off a little with a laugh of your own at that answer. “It was so good; I have never been to a place this big! And you play amazing. You really like it here, don’t you?”
Instead of talking up to her over the barrier you signalled to her aunt to make sure it was okay to get her down on the pitch with you. When you got permission, her aunt helped you get her down and said to go have fun, you told her you’d bring her back in a little while. Grabbing her hand, you dragged her along with you as you listened to all she wanted to say about the game. “… Watching Alexia in person was super cool too. She is soooooo good.” You couldn’t help but agree with the girl, she was something else on the pitch.
“Would you like to come meet some of the girls?” The nod you got in return was again vigorous and so you tugged her in the direction of where you had left Lucy and Keira not even 5 minutes ago.
After introducing Lyla to most of the team there was one final person left. Alexia had been on media duty so you could only hope she would be done and in the changing room for you to introduce Lyla to. You quickly ran over to her aunt to make sure she knew where you were going before leading the small girl through the tunnel.
You poked your head into the training room to find the woman you were looking for in a state of dress that had your heartbeat spiking. Swallowing quickly and blinking a few times to make sure you weren’t dreaming, you averted your eyes slightly and spoke, “Hey Ale I have someone that wants to meet you is that okay?” Alexia’s head whipped round at your voice, and you saw the blush rise up her cheeks as she realised you were seeing her in her sports bra. Not that this was the first time, but it was on your (well pretty much) own and after the beach.
You stepped back into the hall when she told you she would love to, but she just needed a second and waited for her to be ready. Before you could even start a conversation with Lyla the door was swinging back open, and Alexia was dressed in her tracksuit. You were a little shocked when Lyla started hiding behind you a little bit as this was the person she was most excited to meet.
“Ale this is Lyla, she my favourite fan from back in the States. Lyla this is Alexia the best midfielder in the world.” Alexia bent down to Lyla’s height and kept a little space between them before she spoke to her. You spent a good 10 minutes listening to the two girls speak before the rest of the team filtered into the changing room cutting your time short. Lyla said goodbye to the team and you along with Alexia walked her back out into the rapidly emptying crowd, those that were left cheered your names as you entered.
You slowed your pace as you got closer to letting Lyla go, you really did hate goodbyes. Alexia could see your hesitance; she couldn’t tell why you were so reluctant to let the little one go but she could tell it was really playing on you. She reached behind you and rested her hand on the middle of your back, rubbing small slow circles there as you lifted Lyla over the barrier.
After saying goodbye and getting changed you grabbed Alexia’s hand and pulled her along behind you and out to her car. Without questioning it Alexia opened it and let you settle yourself into her passenger seat while she put the bags in the back and got behind the wheel. Deciding that taking you home right now wasn’t what you needed or what she wanted she made the decision to take you back to your spot.
You were not paying attention to where the woman you cared very much about was taking you, you were just lost in your current thoughts and feelings about saying goodbye. It was only when the vehicle stopped that you realised just what the Spanish superstar had done, you were back at the beach by your spot. She didn’t wait for you to say anything just got out and came round to open your door.
You didn’t hesitate to take the hand she offered you when the door was wide open, and you slightly shocked the woman when you held on tighter when you were stood up straight. You gave her hand a squeeze and sent her a small smile that had her grinning and tugging you from your linked hands towards the shore.
You sat yourself against a rock by the shoreline and patted the open space between your legs which Alexia happily sat in, she was a little more hesitant to lean back but didn’t resist you when you lightly tugged her shoulders. The two of you sat there for a little while before you found yourself speaking.
“Thank you for earlier, I really needed the comfort of your presence there to say goodbye.” When Alexia turned her head to you with a questioning look you knew it was a subtle way to ask but also let you know you didn’t have to explain but you wanted to. “She was the last link I had to my first home; she was the final goodbye. That place was where I had my first love, where I got my career started and where all the pain came from. Pain that I think I’m finally over and healing from. Pain that I won’t now let stop me from saying I’m ready if you still are.”
You felt Alexia relax even more into you and you were incredibly happy to feel her hands snake into yours. Neither of you needed to say anything more about it right now, this moment was for basking in the possibilities and future you were about to start.
And tell me some things last
It had been about 2 weeks since you had told Alexia that you were ready to see what could happen between the two of you. Not a lot had really gone on other than an increase in the time you spent together as well as the thoughts you were having. Whenever you were with the Spanish woman you couldn’t help where your mind ran to, the kisses you imagined and the future you could really start to see coming.
So when Alexia asked you to pick her up for training on morning you were secretly hoping that meant some more time together. You pulled up outside her flat with about 20 minutes to spare so decided to go up with the coffees you had got for her. Knocking on her door you patiently waited for the woman inside to answer and when she did you were in a state of shock and awe. Alexia was stood in her sports bra and training joggers, hair tied back and signature Nike band pulling her baby hairs back and out of her face. It took you a moment to compose yourself and drag your eyes away from her exposed torso something she could not help but notice and tease you about. “Like something you see love?”
You exaggerated the wink you sent her way which had the woman full on belly laughing as she let you in and followed behind you as you made it into the kitchen. You set both cups down onto the side and spun to face the still semi dressed beauty, you mind was going a mile a minute over the sight and all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around her waist and kiss her.
Alexia could see your mind working, she could see your thoughts spinning round your head and she was so ready to hear what they were. Deciding you both had been dancing around this for long enough she took a small step towards you and asked the question she wanted the answer too. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”
You snapped your eyes to lock with her gaze, a gaze that was soft and reassuring and all you needed to take that leap. “You and how much I want to kiss you right now but I don’t want to push if you aren’t ready yet I know…” you were cut off by the lips you have been dreaming about.
You wrapped your arms around the slightly older woman’s waist and pulled her closer to you, you brushed your hands up and down her sides as you deepened the kiss something that sent a shiver down Alexia’s spine and a sigh to leave her lips as you both briefly pulled back for air. You weren’t ready for this moment to be over and you wanted to commit more to memory so you lent back in and connected your lips with hers again for a slow kiss.
Alexia pulled back once air was once again needed but she didn’t go far, she rested her forehead against yours and rubbed her thumb over the base of your neck where she had her hands rested. You both just stood there in her kitchen soaking up the moment, committing it to memory and dreaming about what else was to come.
You broke the quiet moment by pressing a small peck to her lips and asking the question you have been wanting to ask for the last couple weeks. “Will you go on a proper date with me? I would like to take you out before I ask the next question I really want to ask you.” Alexia quirked her eyebrow at the cryptic nature of your question but decided to just answer the one she could and wanted to.
“Of course I will go out with you properly. There is nothing I want more.” She went to press a kiss to your lips or so you thought. You closed your eyes as she got close only to feel her press against you for a second before all the warmth of her was gone causing your eyes to spring open. She had grabbed her coffee and was walking towards her bedroom with an extra swing to her hips.
She was going to be the death of you and you both knew it.
And tell me some things last
The last few months had been amazing for you and your newfound love. Alexia had treated you to a fair few date nights and you had managed to get the woman to come over for some homecooked meals. It had been the perfect start to what you hoped would be your forever.
Alexia had excused herself from you now normal Thursday evening plans of dinner and a movie to spend some much-needed time with Mapi which you were more than okay with. It gave you the chance to spend some time with Lucy and Keira ahead of your birthday.
Your English teammates took you out to a fancy meal and drinks in one of your favourite spots in Barca. As the night drew on and the drinks flowed you felt yourself get lighter and lighter. You got to the point that you were so carefree you didn’t care who you were dancing with, nor did Lucy who was your main dance partner anyway.
At this point Keira decided it was probably best to call it a night and phoned your now girlfriend. Alexia was waiting for this phone call really; you had mentioned you were going out with the English pair and that never normally ended with anything less than you and Lucy drunk as and Keira and Alexia dealing with you both.
Alexia had just dropped the English duo to their place and was now sat with a very inebriated you at a red light. She turned to look at you as you dozed off in the passenger seat of her car. The streetlights bounced off your features in a way they had Alexia frozen, she knew that she was falling incredibly fast for you, but she didn’t realise quite how fast until that moment.
She picked up her phone quick and snapped a couple of pics of you before the light turned green and she got you home safe.
A few days later you would see that photo for the first time, and not directly from the woman herself. You woke up to breakfast in bed and sweet kisses for your birthday, you had been so distracted with the people in your life wishing you happy birthday that it took until the evening when you were getting ready for the dinner out with some teammates that Alexia had planned, that you would see the picture along with 3 others.
It was Alexia’s post, it started with a photo of you both in your Barca gear before a game, then it was of you and Nala out on a walk, then it was of you cooking some dinner in Alexia’s kitchen and the final one was the car photo. The caption was simple, Here’s to the first of many birthday celebrations.
And tell me some things last
Alexia was freaking out and you could tell she was. You had yet to speak to her about your upcoming contract issues with Barca. Which had become a more pressing issue with your initial 3 years rapidly coming to an end. She knew that talks had been happening as she is your girlfriend and the captain of the team but what she didn’t know was that you had been offered and accepted a new 5-year deal.  
You had managed to get the club to not tell her before you did so that you could surprise her. Your apartment lease was up, and you hadn’t renewed, the reason for this was you were hoping to be able to move in with your now 2-year long girlfriend, not that she knew that plan just yet. You were nervous to ask such a question, but you were sure she was who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with if she would have you.
What you didn’t plan for was Alexia finding out about you not renewing your lease. You had promised Ingrid you would meet for coffee after the mornings training and Alexia had promised to meet you at yours as you would be cooking for tonight’s Thursday date night. Unfortunately, you were not aware that your landlord was due round to speak about the changing of keys when you moved out. A conversation that Alexia had now had with said person and not you.
Mapi had picked you and Ingrid up from your little outing so you had asked the pair to come up for a drink, thinking that Alexia would be happy to have some time with her best friend. However, as soon as you walked in and made eye contact with your lover you knew the invite up was the wrong thing to do.
It wasn’t just you that noticed, Ingrid saw it too. She was quick to grab Mapi and make up a hurried excuse that had the blonde defender opening and closing her mouth like a fish as she was dragged out of the apartment.
You waited to hear the click of the door shutting before you started to speak. “What’s wrong babe?” You tried to keep the nerves out of your voice, opting to move a bit closer to the older woman as you spoke too.
In the time it took for you to sit down on the sofa, the woman was up on her feet. “What do you mean what’s wrong. You know exactly what is wrong, you are leaving. You are leaving and you haven’t bothered to ask me what that does to me, to us. I didn’t even get to know let alone get to ask you to stay.” You were frozen in place, what was she talking about leaving. You weren’t leaving why would she think that, had you waited too long to tell her about the contract extension? You felt like an idiot for causing her to be this upset.
“Lo siento babe. I am not leaving. Let’s get that sorted first. I could never leave you.” You took a moment to wait for your words to register in the distressed woman’s mind. When they did, she looked at you, and the look she had in her eyes almost broke you. It was like she was pleading with her eyes for you to be telling the truth. “Come here, Lo siento mucho. I didn’t mean to cause you this much stress. I was just trying to surprise you. I should have done better here.”
Alexia did as you asked and came and sat next to you. She didn’t make any physical contact with you like she normally would, but you understood. You took that she was at least next to you and not out the door and a positive sign that this wasn’t a major fuck up. You gave her a few moments to process her thoughts as you did and waited for her to speak.
“You really aren’t leaving me?” That broke you a little bit, you shifted a little closer to the woman and gently took her hand, when she didn’t pull back you squeezed it in yours to try offer some comfort before your words could do the rest.
“No Ale I’m not. I’m staying right here with you for as long as you’ll have me.” You would happily commit the rest of your life to this woman and everyone around you knew it. You obviously hadn’t spent enough time making sure she knew it though and you made that silent vow in your head to rectify that.
“Forever por favor.” You couldn’t help but smile at her words. “But your contract with Barca, it’s almost up.” You let go of her hand to turn your whole body to face her, legs crossed on the sofa. You retook her hand and tugged a little to try and get her to look at you as you spoke.
When you finally got her to make eye contact with you, you told her your secret, “I renewed about 3 days ago, 5 years babe.” The way your favourite eyes lit up in front of you in that moment would be forever imprinted on your brain. There was just joy in them as you said this, and you couldn’t stop the feeling it brought up inside of you. You were about to continue speaking when her facial expression changed again, not to as sad as it was but to one of more confusion.
“But your landlord said you were giving the keys back at the end of the month.” You couldn’t help but smile at that, of course Alexia wasn’t quite following where your brain was hoping.
“I am yes. There is only one place I want to live.” The puzzled look stayed on the Spanish beauties face. A fact that had you full on laughing out loud at the cluelessness of your girlfriend. Deciding that you would put her out of her misery you told her what you hoped could happen. “How would you like to live together mi amor?”
Alexia didn’t answer verbally, no she answered with every other option but that. She pretty much tackled you to the sofa, your back hit the cushions before you could even process what was happening. You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of your mouth as the woman stared peppering your face with kisses.
The joyous moment turned tender quickly after that. Alexia had one arm on the cushions next to your head to prop herself up and the other reached down to cup your cheek. “I want nothing more than you being the first thing I see in the morning and the last I see before I fall asleep.” You could feel the heat creeping up to your cheeks, it wasn’t often you got romantic Ale but when you did it never failed to turn you to mush.
Words would fail you in this moment and you knew it, so you did the next best thing. You reached up and tangled your fingers in the brunettes’ locks of your very soon-to-be house partner, pulling her down so that you could press your lips eagerly to hers in a kiss that could only be described as coming home.
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mononijikayu · 2 months ago
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bed chem — nanami kento.
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“Are you free next week?” Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how effortlessly he turned the tables on you. It was exactly what you had been thinking, the question that had echoed in your head. He had beaten you to it, but his tone told you this was no ordinary invitation. There was more behind that simple question—an invitation to something deeper, something physical. You raised an eyebrow, smiling to yourself, already knowing your answer. “I think I could be.”
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au;
WARNING/S: romance, love at first sight, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, nanami kento is that MAN, reader really wants to have bed chem with nanami <3;
WORD COUNT: 4.8k words.
NOTE: i keep thinking about how much i wrote and how it could be a treat for the entire october in terms of kinktober but i think i realize i'll be too busy starting the 11th, so i won't be showing up to anything, so i'll just be doing all this stuff i can now and posting some in between so i can at least have something for yall, you know? also im realizing my actor sukuna series and this is a minor part of it. its such a good story!!! if you wanna read it the latest chapter is here chapter four; anyway, i hope you can feel my love through out. i'll be seeing you soon enough, though. wish me luck on my upcoming exams <3
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
kayu's playlist — side 1500;
YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO FORGET THIS NIGHT. And you were happy about that thought. You remember the day you met him vividly, as if it happened just yesterday. You were dressed in a sheer, ethereal gown, moving gracefully through the grand corridors of a buzzing fashion venue.
Models, designers, and staff rushed around in a whirlwind of fabric and creativity, preparing for the show. You were part of that beautiful chaos, your mind focused on the evening ahead. But then you saw him.
Nanami Kento, the famous actor.
He stood out, calm amidst the frenzy, wearing a sharp white jacket that contrasted with the hectic energy around you. His sandy-blonde hair fell neatly into place, and his tall, sturdy frame exuded a sense of quiet confidence.
You exchanged brief pleasantries—just a moment's conversation—but the connection felt palpable. His presence lingered in your thoughts long after. You can’t help it. He was just that enigmatic. He was just that awe-strikingly beautiful.
Later that evening, a friend of his reached out, suggesting the two of you connect. You think that maybe they think you guys are going to be good for each other. Or maybe you could just be friends.
Who knows? You hadn’t expected it, but before you knew it, there was a message on your phone from Nanami Kento himself. And just like that, you found yourself scrolling through his texts, your pulse quickening with every new notification.
Who's the cute guy with the white jacket and the thick accent? The thought danced in your mind, replaying your brief interaction. You wondered if you were imagining it, but something told you this connection was real.
He wasn’t just like any other guy you’ve dated. A lot about him was already an improvement, but you were sure, one hundred percent — he would be everything. Everything that you could ever want in a man. 
Maybe it was all in your head, just a fleeting crush, but you couldn't shake the feeling. You have never felt like this before.  You began to picture more than just idle conversation. You bet the two of you would have incredible chemistry—on all levels.
Your thoughts spiraled into fantasies, growing more vivid with every passing moment. You imagined him picking you up with ease, spinning you around like you were weightless, his strong hands firm but gentle. It just made sense, didn’t it? The way he looked at you, the way his words were always so calm and collected, but with an underlying intensity that pulled you in.
There was chemistry—bed chem, as you started to call it in your mind.
You saw it all clearly: the way he’d pull you close, lower you down, his voice teasing but sweet. And his hands—how they might trail over your skin with a deliberate touch, a mix of sweet and sinful. You were obsessed with the idea. He didn’t even need to say anything when you saw him, the look in his eyes was enough to spark that connection.
You imagined asking him, casually, Are you free next week? You were certain that if you met again, everything would fall into place. You’d fit together seamlessly, like two puzzle pieces made for each other. Your fantasies painted the perfect picture: soft sheets, the thermostat set just right—maybe at 69—and the two of you in sync, moving as if you’d done this a thousand times before.
You saw him later that night at the after-party, his blue eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. Your heart skipped a beat. Nanami wasn’t just an actor anymore, not just a face from the big screen or a billboard. He was real, standing right there, closing the distance between you.
As he approached, you couldn’t help but think, I bet we’d have really good bed chem.
The thought made you smile to yourself, a secret desire that hung in the air, just waiting to be fulfilled.
He moved closer, his stride confident but unhurried. The noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, the music and chatter dissolving as your attention zeroed in on him. You could feel the air between you thicken, an unspoken pull drawing you together. Nanami’s eyes never left yours, his intense gaze making it clear he hadn’t forgotten your brief encounter earlier in the day.
He stopped just a few steps away, close enough that you could see the faintest hints of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. You exchanged a polite smile, but beneath the surface, the tension was palpable. It was as if every look, every subtle movement, was laden with meaning. Your heart raced, but you kept your composure.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” he said, his voice smooth, with that same deep cadence you had replayed in your mind over and over again.
You offered a light laugh, something casual, but even the smallest exchange felt charged. “Fashion world is small, I guess.”
The conversation was polite, yet every word held weight. You both knew there was something more bubbling beneath the surface. And that’s when it happened—he leaned in, just a fraction, and his voice lowered, the faintest hint of something playful lacing his words.
“Are you free next week?”
Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how effortlessly he turned the tables on you. It was exactly what you had been thinking, the question that had echoed in your head. He had beaten you to it, but his tone told you this was no ordinary invitation. There was more behind that simple question—an invitation to something deeper, something physical.
You raised an eyebrow, smiling to yourself, already knowing your answer. “I think I could be.”
Nanami Kento chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming. It was a small moment, but it felt like a confirmation—like a prophecy about to be fulfilled. You both lingered in the silence for a beat longer than necessary, the electric tension between you undeniable.
As the night went on, the party flowed around you, but your attention never strayed far from him. Each glance, each word exchanged, only built on the anticipation. By the time you said your goodbyes, you were already planning out the next week in your head.
When you finally parted ways, your phone buzzed almost immediately. A message from him.
Next week, then.
You smiled, already thinking about how things would unfold. In your mind, you could see it—how he’d pick you up like it was nothing, his strength and control so effortless. You pictured the way he’d pull you close, then spin you around, always so deliberate but never rushed. The chemistry was undeniable, it was practically written in the stars. Bed chem, the kind that left no room for hesitation.
And when that moment finally came, you knew everything would fall into place, just like you imagined. The perfect rhythm, the thermostat set just right, every movement in sync.
It was only a matter of time.
The days that followed felt like a slow burn, each one stretching out as you found yourself replaying that moment over and over. The anticipation built, winding tighter with every passing thought of him. Every time your phone buzzed, your pulse quickened, hoping it was another message from Nanami, and more often than not, it was.
His texts were short, simple—never too much, but just enough to keep the flame alive. He didn’t need to say much for you to read between the lines. Each message held a certain calm confidence, like he knew exactly what he was doing, just like when you saw him at the party.
Each message was a spark, feeding the fire of your fantasies. Your mind wandered constantly, imagining every possible way the encounter could unfold. You knew it wouldn’t be rushed—it was never rushed with someone like Nanami. Everything about him was measured, thoughtful, intentional.
How’s your week?
Thinking about that conversation.
Looking forward to next week.
By the time the day finally arrived, you could feel your nerves dancing in your chest, excitement pulsing beneath your skin. You chose your outfit carefully, something that balanced elegance with subtle suggestion. You wanted to look as effortlessly composed as you imagined he would be.
When you arrived at the restaurant where he had suggested you meet, the atmosphere was warm, dimly lit, and intimate. Nanami was already there, sitting at a table near the window. He looked up as soon as you walked in, his eyes locking onto yours immediately, that same intensity you remembered from the party.
As you approached, he stood to greet you, his hand resting lightly on your back as he leaned in for a polite kiss on the cheek. His touch was brief but electric, and you felt the heat rise in your chest.
“You look stunning, darling.” he said, his voice deep and smooth, just as you remembered.
You smiled, brushing off the compliment with a modest shrug, but the way his eyes lingered told you he wasn’t just being polite. The dinner itself was a dance, every word exchanged adding to the tension that simmered between you. You talked about the show, your careers, little moments from your lives—but beneath it all, there was the unspoken promise of what was to come.
It wasn’t long before the two of you found yourselves alone, walking down the quiet city streets. The cool night air did little to cool the heat that was growing between you. His hand brushed yours as you walked, a casual but deliberate touch that sent a shiver down your spine.
Then, as if on cue, he stopped, turning to face you. His eyes held yours for a long moment, the city lights casting shadows over his sharp features.
“Should we continue this somewhere more private?” His voice was calm, but there was a subtle edge to it, the tension in his question making your breath catch.
You nodded, your heart racing as he reached for your hand, his grip firm but gentle as he led you toward his place. The walk was quiet, the air thick with anticipation. When you finally arrived, it felt like the world had slowed down, the moment you had been waiting for was finally here.
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YOU WERE ASTOUNDED HOW SUAVE HIS EXISTENCE IS. The sight of his apartment took you by surprise, sleek and minimal yet warm, much like him. Everything was perfectly arranged, clean lines and subtle comfort that mirrored his understated charm. You couldn’t help but admire him, drawn in by everything he was. The more you were around him, the more you wanted—his presence, his touch, his everything.
He glanced at you, his gaze never wavering as he slipped off his jacket, hanging it neatly over the back of a chair. In an instant, he was standing before you, hands on your waist, drawing you close with a quiet, commanding energy. The world outside faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in the dimly lit room.
His lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm as he whispered, "I’ve been thinking about this all week." 
The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could respond, his lips found yours. The kiss was slow at first, deliberate, as if savoring the moment. You could feel the excitement become even more palpable in you.
Each movement of his mouth felt carefully measured, like he had been imagining this for far longer than you realized. His hands moved with an easy confidence, sliding across your body, each touch making you feel as though he had memorized every inch of you.
When he lifted you, it felt seamless, effortless, as though you weighed nothing at all in his arms. He carried you to the bedroom, his strong grip both protective and possessive.
There was an undeniable chemistry between you—every brush of his skin against yours, every touch electric and charged with desire. His movements were slow, savoring the build-up, as if he had waited too long for this moment to rush through it.
Your breaths came out shallow and uneven as his lips moved from yours, down the length of your neck, leaving a burning trail in their wake. Each press of his mouth against your skin felt deliberate, purposeful, sending sparks of heat coursing through you. 
His scent filled the space between you, rich and heady, mixing with the warmth of his body as he pressed closer. Every inch of you was aware of him—the solid strength of his frame, the way his breath hitched slightly as his hands roamed over you.
Kento’s fingers grazed the curve of your waist before tightening on your hips, pulling you against him with a quiet but undeniable hunger. The sensation of his body molded so tightly to yours made your heart race, your skin tingling with anticipation. 
You bit your lip, trying to steady your breath, but it was impossible under the weight of his touch, his presence. His knee nudged between your thighs, parting them with a gentle yet insistent pressure, the friction sending a fresh wave of desire flooding through you.
"You feel so good, sweetie." he whispered, his voice low and rough, filled with want.
A soft moan slipped from your lips as his hands roamed lower, teasing the edge of your clothes before slipping beneath the fabric. His fingers dug in, just enough to make you gasp, his touch hot against your skin. The sensation of him—his rough palms gliding over your bare skin, the tension coiling between you—was intoxicating, leaving you breathless.
You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your neck, clearly pleased with the effect he was having on you. "I love hearing you like that, sweetie." he murmured, his breath warm and teasing as his mouth hovered near your ear. "Don’t hold back."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching toward him as his fingers dipped lower, exploring you with an eagerness that made you ache. You gasped, unable to stop the sound that escaped your throat as his fingers slipped inside you, moving with a skill that left you trembling.
"Oh—Kento. Oh, baby….." you whimpered, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as your body pressed closer to his, desperate for more of his touch. He groaned softly in response, the sound vibrating through you.
His fingers moved inside you with purpose, every stroke calculated, every flick of his wrist sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His thumb found the sensitive bundle of nerves that made you cry out, your hips bucking instinctively against him.
"God, you’re so responsive. I like that." he growled, his voice rough with desire. His free hand gripped your waist, holding you steady as his fingers moved faster, building a rhythm that had you teetering on the edge of control.
"I want you to come for me, sweetheart." he breathed against your ear, his voice low and commanding.
You couldn’t help it. The way he touched you, the way he knew exactly what you needed—it was too much. Your body responded without hesitation, muscles tightening as pleasure coiled deep inside you, ready to snap. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, broken and breathless, as you reached that sweet crescendo, your body trembling in his arms.
Kento didn’t want to stop, didn’t slow, as you rode the wave of pleasure. His fingers stayed inside you, coaxing every last bit of sensation from you, until you were left breathless, trembling, and utterly undone in his arms.
Kento’s fingers slowly withdrew, leaving you sensitive and aching, but he wasn’t done. His sharp gaze darkened as he looked down at you, his breath hot against your skin. He shifted, positioning himself between your thighs, and you felt a fresh rush of heat flood through you as his hands gently spread your legs wider, exposing your most sensitive, intimate places to him.
"You look incredible, slick like this." he murmured, his voice husky with desire. His eyes roamed over your body, lingering on every curve and soft line before settling on the glistening heat between your legs. The way he looked at you, so intent, so focused, made your heart race even faster.
Without a word, he lowered his head, his lips brushing the inside of your thigh with soft, teasing kisses. You shuddered beneath him, anticipation buzzing through your veins as his mouth inched closer to where you needed him most.
When his tongue finally flicked against your sensitive folds, you gasped, your back arching off the bed as pleasure shot through you. His touch was gentle at first, soft and exploratory, as if he was savoring the moment. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he took his time, each lick and kiss slow and deliberate.
"Kento—" you moaned, your voice breathless and needy. His hands slid up your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you steady, his mouth working against you with a precision that drove you wild.
"Mm, s’ good." he hummed against you, the vibration of his voice sending a fresh wave of sensation through your core. His tongue swirled over your clit, slow and deliberate, before he sucked gently, and the world around you seemed to blur as pleasure bloomed deep in your belly.
"You taste so sweet. So so sweet." he growled at you, his voice low and full of hunger. He didn’t give you a moment to recover, his mouth returning to its work, tongue stroking over you in long, languid movements that left you trembling beneath him.
Your hands gripped the sheets, your body writhing against his mouth as he worked you closer to the edge. Every flick of his tongue, every soft press of his lips had you teetering on the brink, the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you.
"Please, please." you whimpered, your hips bucking against his face. "Don’t stop, Kento—"
He growled softly in response, his hands tightening on your thighs to hold you still as he intensified his pace. His tongue moved faster, more insistently, flicking and stroking your clit with a pressure that made you cry out. You could feel yourself unraveling, your body trembling uncontrollably as he pushed you closer and closer to release.
The heat inside you built with every stroke of his tongue, every soft moan he let out against you, until you couldn’t hold back any longer. Your body tensed, your muscles tightening as the pleasure overwhelmed you, and with a final, desperate cry, you came undone, your release crashing over you in waves.
Kento could only find himself addicted in your taste, his mouth continuing to work against you, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm until you were trembling, breathless, and utterly spent beneath him. Finally, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal, and he looked up at you with a satisfied, almost possessive smile.
"You’re incredible, sweetie." he whispered, his voice rough and low as he moved back up your body, his lips finding yours again in a slow, heated kiss. You could taste yourself on him, and it only made you want him more.
"Kento..." you breathed, your voice barely audible but full of want. The way you said his name made him pause, his eyes darkening with desire as they met yours.
He leaned in again, his lips hovering near your ear, his voice deep and rough. “Gonna keep making you feel good, sweetie.” 
His thumb brushed against your lower lip before claiming your mouth again in a kiss that was no longer soft or patient but filled with raw, undeniable hunger. His need for you was palpable now, every kiss, every touch pushing you both closer to the edge.
The night unraveled slowly, deliberately, as if time itself bowed to the intensity of the moment. His movements, once restrained and careful, had given way to a raw passion that filled the air with a palpable heat. The soft glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains cast fleeting shadows on his face, highlighting the quiet hunger in his eyes as he gazed down at you.
His lips, warm and persistent, traced a slow, deliberate path over the curve of your neck, sending shivers cascading down your spine. Your breath hitched as his mouth moved lower, each kiss searing your skin with a promise of what was to come. 
His fingers followed, brushing against your skin with the lightest of touches, drawing a soft gasp from you. Every time he whispered your name, his voice low and filled with desire, it felt like the room itself pulsed in response, his words sinking into your very core.
“God, you’re so beautiful, sweetie.” he murmured, his breath hot against your collarbone, his eyes dark with an intensity that made your heart race.
Your body arched beneath him, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation building with every gentle caress. He paused for a moment, hovering above you, his gaze locked with yours, the weight of his control making your pulse quicken. It was as if he could sense every thought, every want, every need—knowing exactly how to unravel you. And you, caught in the tide of his desire, could do nothing but surrender.
“Please...” you breathed, the word slipping from your lips before you could even stop yourself. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes remained focused, intent.
His hands moved lower, his touch no longer teasing but commanding, each movement calculated to drive you closer to the edge. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, the anticipation almost unbearable as his lips brushed against your ear, sending another wave of heat through your body.
“I’ve got you, sweetie.” he whispered, his voice a dark promise that sent a jolt of desire straight through you. And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity of delicious torment, he positioned himself above you, his body pressing against yours in a way that made you ache with need. “Doin’ so good for me already, aren’t you?”
When he entered you, it felt like the culmination of everything—the tension, the desire, the quiet longing that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. A soft moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, his movements slow and deliberate, each thrust deep and steady, leaving you breathless.
Your hands found his back, your nails digging in as you clung to him, the intensity of it all building between you like a storm ready to break. His breath was ragged now, mingling with yours in the heated air, every thrust a silent declaration of the connection that bound you together.
“Don’t stop, Kento…. Don’t…Oh—” you whispered, your voice breaking as he moved faster, his control unraveling just enough for you to feel the full force of his desire. His lips found yours again, his kiss rough and hungry, matching the rhythm of his body as you moved together, lost in the heat and the need for more.
Each movement, each breath, felt like an unspoken promise, his body telling you everything he couldn’t say aloud. In that moment, there was no space for hesitation, no room for anything but the overwhelming intensity of him, of you, of the way you fit together so perfectly.
When you finally came, it was everything you hadn’t known you needed. Kento’s name fell from your lips over and over, a soft chant as waves of pleasure washed over you, your body tightening around his. The intensity of it left you breathless, your fingers clutching him as if afraid to let go. Moments later, he followed you, his body tensing as he found his own release, his low groan sending shivers through you all over again.
For a long time, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the quiet, shared breaths of two people completely undone by the moment. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively, his warmth enveloping you as you lay tangled together, the weight of what had just passed between you still lingering in the air.
Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft but filled with satisfaction. “Well, I think you got your answer.” 
“Oh? About what?”
“We have bed chem.” He grins at you, kissing your shoulder. 
You blinked and then laughed.
You could feel your heart still racing, and looked up at him, knowing that this moment was just the beginning.
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epilogue 
The sunlight filtered through the bedroom window, casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets that barely covered your body. You stretched lazily, feeling the soft, comforting weight of the blankets and the familiar presence of Nanami beside you.
His arm was draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling steadily as he slept. The peaceful moment was too perfect to pass up, so you quietly reached for your phone, snapping a quick picture of the two of you in the soft morning light.
The sheets barely covered your bodies, your bare skin visible beneath the white fabric. The scene was intimate, cozy, and full of the quiet warmth of a morning spent wrapped in each other’s arms. You couldn’t resist adding a cheeky caption before posting it online:
“Come right on me, I mean camaraderie.”
The double entendre made you giggle quietly as you hit "post" knowing it was bound to get some playful reactions. You leaned back into the pillows, snuggling against Kento, who stirred slightly at your movement, his hand tightening around your waist.
“What are you up to?” he mumbled sleepily, his voice rough from sleep. His eyes opened just enough to catch your mischievous grin.
“Nothing… Just posting a little morning memory, darling.” you teased, unable to contain the laughter bubbling up inside you. Kento’s brow furrowed, clearly suspicious but too tired to press further.
It didn’t take long for the comments to start rolling in. Within minutes, his phone buzzed repeatedly on the nightstand. Kento could only feel himself groaning, reaching for it, and as soon as he saw the notifications lighting up the screen, his eyes widened in realization.
“You didn’t…?” His voice trailed off as he stared at the picture you had posted, the cheeky caption front and center.
You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, watching as Nanami’s expression shifted from confusion to mild horror, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. He scrolled through the comments, and you could see the flood of teasing messages from his castmates already coming in.
@/GojoSatoru: Nanami, my man! Didn’t know you had this side to you! 😂
@/Geto Suguru: Yo, Kento…….You really kinky IRL, huh?
@/HaibaraYu: Is that what we call ‘teamwork’ now? Guess I’ve been doing it all wrong… 😏
@/IeiriShoko: Honestly? Kinda iconic. But also, never gonna let you live this down.
Kento could feel his blush deepened as he kept scrolling, his lips pressed into a thin line, clearly flustered. His hand ran through his hair in frustration, and he glanced at you with an exasperated but fond look.
“I can’t believe you posted that, sweetie.” he muttered, shaking his head as more notifications flooded in. “They’re never going to stop teasing me about this.”
You couldn’t stop giggling, leaning over to kiss his cheek, which was now bright red. “Come on, it’s cute. They’ll forget about it soon enough… maybe.”
Kento groaned again, but there was a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulled you closer. “You’re impossible, hm.” he said, though the warmth in his voice made it clear he wasn’t actually upset. He kissed your forehead softly, the tension in his body relaxing as he resigned himself to the teasing. “Too impossible.”
“I don’t mind being impossible if it makes you blush like this.” you teased, running your fingers through his hair, enjoying the rare sight of Kento looking flustered.
“Don’t push your luck, sweetie.” he replied, though the way his arms wrapped around you betrayed the affection behind his words. He sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I guess I’ll have to get used to being the subject of their jokes for a while.”
You grinned, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
Nanami chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting. “You already have, sweetheart.” he murmured, his hand brushing a lock of hair away from your face. His eyes softened as he looked at you, the teasing forgotten as the moment between you became tender again.
“I don’t care what they say, though.” he added quietly. “All that matters is this. Us.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, the teasing moment giving way to a warmth that spread through your chest. You snuggled closer into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours, and smiled.
“Good. So do I.” you whispered, kissing him again, the teasing fading into the background as the two of you enjoyed the quiet intimacy of the morning.
Nanami Kento could feel his phone buzzing again, but this time, neither of you bothered to check it. Let them tease—it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding comfort in the simple joy of being together.
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wlfchnlv3r · 26 days ago
Text
DRIVE
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Hyunjin x Bangchan x Fem reader
Synopsis: you are in big trouble after a night out with friends, your boyfriends are mad at you for flirting with a random guy and now you are going to confront them.
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: 🔞, mdni, vaginal sex, anal sex, smut, cum eating, blowjob, handjob, masturbation, literally porn with plot so, please if you are a minor do not read this.
Note: that was pretty difficult to write, I mean- what the hell.
You go downstairs after a night with friends, where you have been drinking too much, causing you being excessively gentle with a random guy you can’t even remember the name.
You know there will be consequences for your actions and when you make your way to the living room you find your two boyfriends, Bangchan and Hyunjin typing at their computer with a somber expression on their faces.
As soon as you enter the room Bangchan looks up and sees you standing there, leaning back on the sofà.
Hyunjin glances at you and continues writing, seemingly unphased by your presence.
You stay silent for a moment before speaking in a guilty tone “are you mad at me…?”.
Chan stands up and walks towards you. He seems amused by the question "What makes you think that?".
“Ok ok you guys are mad at me…I got it” you admit.
He chuckles, grabbing your chin with his hand and lifting your face to make you look at him "You're too cute. Of course we're angry at you.".
You want to explain the situation “ I wasn’t flirting with that guy, we were just…taking, I mean it”
Bangchan narrows his eyes and Hyunjin looks up from his work and watches the scene.
"Yeah, just talking." Bangchan says, with a sarcastic tone of voice "You really think we're dumb enough to believe that?".
“I would never do that, I promise”
Bangchan let's go of your chin and shrugs.
“Hmph. Whatever. You better not be lying to us."
He steps away and goes back to sit at his desk. Hyunjin has turned his full attention to you now.
Your gaze passes from bangchan to Hyunjin, he holds your stare, his face expressionless. He seems to be watching you intensely and trying to read you.
“I’m so sorry” you apologise slowly.
Bangchan is typing away on his computer, still clearly pissed at you and Hyunjin continues staring at you, still trying to make sense of you.
"You should be sorry" Hyunjin finally speaks.
“I- please can we just forget yesterday night? It was nothing I- what can I do…to make amends?” You start to be tired of this situation and try to go upstairs in the bedroom.
Bangchan looks at you with narrowed eyes "Where do you think you're going?".
Hyunjin watches you, curious to see what you'll try to do next.
“Chan please-“
“stay there until we say so. Understand?” Hyunjin leans back on the sofà starting to lose his cool.
You stay in place for what it feels like an eternity while both of your boyfriends finish their stuff glancing at you every now and then.
“What can I do for you to forgive me…?” You finally speak.
That question draws Bangchan out of his work. He looks over at you with a smirk.
"What're you willing to do?"
“Uhm- I don’t know…please-“ you plead
Bangchan looks over at Hyunjin, who chuckles under his breath.
“So desperate to make it up, huh?" Bangchan says, amused and curious about your response.
While Hyunjin is intrigued by your answer as he listens in and watches you closely to see what you'll do.
“Yes… I’ll do what you guys want” Hyunjin can barely hide his amusement while Bangchan stands up and goes behind you, his eyes watching every little reaction you make now.
"Anything hm. So If I told you to kneel on the floor for me, you would do it, right?" Bangchan says, in a commanding tone, before speaking again “kneel for me, now”.
You watch him and then Hyunjin, but you give up, kneeling in front of Chan.
Hyunjin is now looking at you and Bangchan. There is a small smile on his face from the satisfaction of seeing you kneel for Bangchan so quickly.
Bangchan reaches for you, but doesn't touch you, his hands hovering just a few inches away. He stares deep into your eyes, analyzing your reaction "Good girl".
Chan starts to unbutton his pants lowering them with his boxer, his hard erection is a few inch near your face.
He can't help but smile. His eyes never move from yours. He takes his hand away from your chin and gestures for you to get closer.
"Go on, and suck my cock till I say so, like the obedient girl you are" Bangchan says.
You close the distance and start to lick his tip, already wet with precum.
Bangchan inhales sharply. He glances back at Hyunjin, who is looking quite satisfied now "Go on princess, you look so good with chan’s dick in your mouth” he is now smirking, his eyes glued to you.
You take chan’s dick in your mouth starting to suck on it slowly but your boyfriend tangle his finger in your hair and start to pull you closer making you shuts your eyes “you are so good for me…” he says with a smirk on his face.
Tears start to run down your cheeks as he keeps pushing your head closer and closer to him.
You let out a choke whine, hearing chan’s groans.
Meanwhile Hyunjin is enjoying the view and star to unzip his jeans freeing up his erection. He grips the base of his cock and start to move his hand giving himself some relief.
Bangchan sighs heavily, enjoying the entire experience "S-such a good girl.." Bangchan keep praising you as he finishes in your mouth and slowly steps back, pulling his pants up. His eyes find yours, a slight smirk on his face “you know how it works princess, swallow it” he commands.
You swallow his seed, and stand up looking for a few minutes at Hyunjin soft expression before he comes undone on his shirt.
He open his eyes and stares at you with a smirk.
Bangchan interrupts the moment “you know…maybe we’ve been to hard on you, what about a reward for our princess, Hyunjin?” He asks with a soft voice, the two men exchange a quickly glance.
Hyunjin approaches you and lowers your panties, before finally making you straddle on his lap “we will take good care of you princess, I promise”.
You feel the thick tip of his cock sliding into you slowly making you squirm.
Bangchan smiles before caressing your ass, and moves his middle finger in your ass gently, starting to prepare you for his dick “I know you can take it, mh? Just relax and let me stretch you a little”.
After a few long minutes he pushes his dick in your ass, fitting perfectly into you.
You are already a whiny mess, and when they both start to move in sync deep into you, your eyes shuts and you feel like crying from the pleasure.
Your hands instinctively grab hyunjin’s hair.
The air fills with the distinct sounds of wet skin on skin, panting breaths, and purring moans.
Hyunjin groans loudly, increasing his pace "God, you're so fucking tight. So warm, I don't wanna pull out of you-“ he praise you looking at your expression of ectasty.
You are so overwhelmed that you don’t even hear him. It’s chan the ones who brings you back to reality, with a slap on your ass that follow a rough squeeze of your tender flesh.
“ you are doing so good princess, tell us how much you want to be filled up… say you want it”.
You whimper a quick “please- I want it- please”.
You three are enjoying this intimate moment together so much.
You are the first to fall, your walls tighten around hyunjin’s cock, making a mess.
Hyunjin’s cums right after you, with a few deep thrust, his breath unsteady and the grip on you hips still firm.
Bangchan continues pushing in your ass for a few moments before releasing into you all his seed.
You are a mess, a complete mess but you smile after hearing Hyunjin says “you just did so good princess, now lay down on the couch and let us take care of you”.
Taglist: @felixleftchickennugget @kiwininja35 @sweetpickledjins @slmnheart @elqivxstxr @catffeinexo-xx @multistancheck @justwonder113 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @hello-stranger24 @raptorbait529 @cocofia143 @minniesverse
(comment to be added to the taglist🎐)
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pitviperofdoom · 2 months ago
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High School Time Travelers, Part 2
It's finally here! Follow up to this story.
***
“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”
Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.
Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”
“I’m serious—”
“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”
Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”
“That’s what I said.”
“What the fuck, Raph.”
“I didn’t mean to!”
The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.
But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.
“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”
“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”
“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”
Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”
“The what.”
“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”
Erin pulled a face.
“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”
“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.
“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”
“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”
Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”
“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”
“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”
“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”
Raph’s silence could not have been louder.
“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.
“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.
“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”
“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.
Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”
Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”
“Creepy what?”
“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”
Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.
“Dude.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”
“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”
Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”
“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”
Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.
“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”
“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”
Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”
“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”
“Dude, fuck your mom.”
“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”
Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”
“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”
“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.
Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”
“Shut up,” she said fondly.
“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”
There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.
“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”
“She does, don’t worry.”
“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”
Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”
She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”
“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”
“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”
“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”
“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”
“What?’
“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’
“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.
“Damian.”
“You’re... not...”
“You’d tell me, right?”
“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”
“Damian, I swear to God.”
“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”
Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”
“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.
***
“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”
“Yeah, sure thing.”
It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.
She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—
Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.
Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.
DADI need you to talk to your brother.
Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.
lol why
DADHe’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.
Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.
what do you need me to do
DADJust coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.
why father dearest i’m surprised at youyou want me to lie under oath?
DADJust talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.
ok daddy ill do my best!
DADGood girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!
“Order up!”
Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.
Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”
“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.
“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”
The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”
“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”
Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.
“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.
“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”
“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.
“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.
Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.
“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”
“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.
“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.
“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.
“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.
“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”
Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”
“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”
“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.
“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”
Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”
“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”
Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”
And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 
“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.
Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and  Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.
“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”
“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”
“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”
“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”
Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”
“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”
“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”
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latenightdaydreams · 2 months ago
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Blacksmith!König x Farmers Wife Part 2 (fem)
Part 1
MDNI🔞
Master List ✍🏽
>cw: fem/afab, cheating, p in v, oral
1.3k word count
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You wake up before the sun begins to rise. The first thing you do is rush to the bathroom to wash your body well; you want to smell fresh for König. Last night he consumed your dreams. Dreams of his hard, muscular body pressing up against yours as he drips sweat down on to you. The thought sends chills down your spine.
As you linger in front of the wardrobe dripping wet you grab your mauve red dress, the fanciest one you have. You dress quickly, spritzing yourself with the perfume you were gifted the day of your wedding; it’s remained on your vanity untouched all this time. With one last look in the mirror, you rush out the door to the stables.
The ride seems to pass by quicker than before, your mind wandering to unholy places helped consume that time. You turn down the familiar dirt path, riding up to the barn to dismount your horse. He’s not in the barn, so you turn towards his home instead. You climb the two steps to his front door, knocking softly.
König sits in his kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee when he barely hears your knock. His eyes dart towards the door and step forward. Only wearing jeans, he opens the door to look down and see you. Your eyes drop to his chest before meeting his gaze again and smiling. The golden hue from the sun causes your eyes to shimmer and skin to glow. He stands there for a while, looking down at your cleavage then slowly back up to your eyes.
“What can I do for you, Schatz?”
The way he speaks sends a shiver down your spine; his wandering eyes don’t go unnoticed by you, causing you to blush. For a moment, you forget the reason you came here. All you can focus on is his sculpted body and shining blue eyes.
“I- I forgot my ax.”
“Ja?” König leans against his door frame, looking you up and down still. “Let’s go fetch it then.”
You step aside as he walks forward, closing the front door behind him, following him like a little puppy to the barn. His back muscles flex, almost putting you in a trance. He looks exactly like the drawing in books of Greek gods.
König pulls open the door of the barn, looking down to where he remembers you placing it. He bends down and grabs it, turning to face you now. You hold your hands out to grab it, but he doesn’t give it to you. Instead, he just lingers, gazing down at you as he steps forward. The smell of your floral perfume hits his nose as he stands only a few inches from you.
“You came all the way here, dressed in such a lovely dress…” König reaches out with one hand to rest it on your waist, “smelling of flowers, just as the sun comes up…for an ax?”
A small blush crosses your cheeks as he calls you out. His massive hand on your waist feels so warm and welcoming, making you crave the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. Only a jumble of words spills out, not able to think quickly on your feet while so flustered.
“You came back for more, ja?” König leans in closer. “You came back for me?”
Before you even answer he leans in and kisses you, carefully dropping the ax to the floor. With both hands he grips your hips and squeezes as he pulls you against his chest. His mouth opens, slipping his tongue past your lips. Your tongues swirl around one another’s, causing your pussy to tingle from excitement.
König lets his hands slip to your ass, squeezing as he lifts you up into his arms; you wrap your legs around his torso as he walks forward with you. He takes your lack of protest as consent for him to do what he’s about to. Knowing Michael, he can imagine just how desperate and touch starved you are. Such a low man with such a goddess of a wife.
As König walks you into his home, you kiss and bite on his neck and chest; the salty taste of his sweaty skin becomes addicting. You breathe in the intoxicating musk you got a sample of yesterday; you’ve been craving it ever since. His hands hold you tightly as he crosses the threshold into the bedroom. He gently tosses you on to the bed, his lips crash against yours while his hands travel underneath the hem of your skirt.
In his hands he bunches up the fabric, slipping his fingers between your legs. You’re already soaked, causing König to let out a pleased hum. “God, I want you.” He whispers as he pulls away and lowering his head between your legs. The sweet smell of your arousal consumes him as he kisses your pussy.
He licks his lips, tasting you before leaning back in and completely burying his face in your cunt. His long, fat tongue finds your tight pussy, pressing himself in and wiggling his tongue as his hands part your thighs. You look down as you pull your fabric back more, watching as he eats you up like a starved man.
König swipes his tongue up, flicking over your clit before taking your small bud into his mouth and sucking. This causes your abdomen to tense, you cry out, begging him to not stop. He can’t stop, your pussy is like a delicacy and he’s just only begun.
“K- König…god…”
He shakes his head back and forth, his fingers digging into your supple thighs even more as your moans become loud pleas for your ever approaching release. Your thighs press against his head, bucking your hips up against his tongue as you cry out for König. If he tries to breathe, all he gets is a strong and overwhelming smell of you; it’s perfect.
König doesn’t stop as your legs slowly relax. He looks up to watch you untie the corset of your dress, exposing your beautiful breasts to him. With one hand he moves up to pinch your perky nipple, tugging on it slightly as his tongue laps between your folds.
“I want your cock.” You beg loudly. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Gladly.” He growls as he pulls back.
König stands, his eyes glued to your breasts as he undoes his belt buckle and pulls down his pants. His heavy cock springs free from the restraints of his pants, the tip leaking; desperate to feel your tiny cunt. Without even slipping out of your dress, he grabs your thighs and pulls you towards the edge of the bed. He looks down, watching as he lines the head of his cock with you.
“Mein Gott.” König moans as he watches your tight pussy swallow his massive cock. “Look at you, taking all of me.”
He pulls back and slowly pushes back in, his slow motion almost a tease for you. All you want is to be destroyed by him; bruises, bites, and all. “Please, fuck me harder.” You beg, your tone of voice almost pathetic.
By the time you stroll back towards the farm, the sun has begun to set. The whole journey back, you sniff your dress and enjoy the lingering scent of him on you. You can’t help but to smile and act giddy as you recall the events of today. Hours in bed with König as he took his time to learn every inch of your body; you’ve never experienced that type of love making before. Even when it was rough, he was still careful with you.
You stable the horse and walk towards your house. Michael sits on the porch drinking a beer as usual, with an unpleasant look on his ugly mug. His eyes travel over your dress. You never wear it, so why today?
“Where the fuck have you been?” Michael shouts as you get closer.
You say nothing, already annoyed that this is the man you’re forced to return home to after experiencing König. Instead, you drop the ax at his feet and walk past him into the house. Offering him no explanation. He looks down at the ax stunned. Did you…no. You wouldn’t, right?
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sorchathered · 4 months ago
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Let’s do IT for our country
Pairing- President!Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader
Warnings- smut smut and more smut, breeding kink, language, mentions of pregnancy, us politics, I think that’s it?
Summary- Robert Floyd had never wanted to be the president, but here in the Oval Office on inauguration night with his First Lady? He could get used to nights like this.
A/N- It’s that time again! Another IBFFM, but this time with an older version of our sexy WSO. Mr. President is about 45 here, his First Lady is in her mid 30’s.
Also it’s @bobgasm ‘s birthday present!! Happy birthday to my precious Steph, love you so much baby!!
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For as long as he could remember, Robert Floyd had been told he would be great.
His family name was synonymous with the likes of Kennedy and Roosevelt, the Floyd’s were some of the most influential in political history, and with that came high expectations. You must go to a prestigious college, you must serve your country (whether that be as a civil servant or military member), and you must marry the right kind of person. They talked about it as if they were breeding horses, and it never made any sense to him, so long as he found someone kind and supportive all of the bullshit that his family expected mattered very little to him. He would tick off whatever boxes they wanted, but it would be on his own terms.
He went to the US Naval Academy after high school, refusing to hop onto the Ivy League lifestyle his grandfather so desperately cherished. Moving on to aviation as a WSO and then becoming one of the top 1% in the country in his field. It was a distinguished career to be sure, but he’d been adamant that he had no interest in pursuing a political career, and certainly not the presidency.
He still wasn’t sure what had brought him to this point, or how he’d somehow managed to bag his dream girl in the process. A feisty junior senator from Delaware, good family, strong morals and drop dead gorgeous to boot, you’d been his match in every way. Sure you had hated his guts, he was the golden boy and you had dealt with his kind your whole life. But after a particularly long day in the senate he’d asked you to dinner, and while you’d had half a mind to tell him no the prospect of a free meal wasn’t worth passing up. So in a dingy dive bar with greasy burgers and cheap beer, you took a chance on him and fell ridiculously in love.
Four years had passed since you’d both sat in the creeky wooden booths of that shitty bar, and it felt simultaneously like yesterday and a lifetime ago. His family had pushed him into politics and while he had been adamant in the beginning that he would never pursue the presidency, the world had changed dramatically since he first refused the mantle. He may have hated the pageantry of it all, but at his core he truly did want to help people, and they certainly took notice. He’d run a clean and honest campaign with his best girl by his side, and won in a landslide. Everything moved very quickly from Election Day to Inauguration Day, it almost felt like he had blinked and he was here, wandering the halls of the west wing after skipping out on the last two of 10 gaudy inaugural balls he’d been forced to attend. He’d been going since sunrise and still couldn’t seem to get the jitters under control so he could rest; he suspected it would be quite a while before that feeling went away. Shaky hands moved to open the door to the Oval Office, completely renovated and designed by his beautiful wife to fit his style and personality, you’d made sure he would want for nothing, he’d be spending so much time in this room and it seemed only logical to make it a calm and safe space for him and his thoughts. It felt so much like his office at home, even down to the worn leather chair and the soft scent of sandalwood and tobacco from the candles you bought because it reminded you of him. You had told him you’d be heading to change and wouldn’t be gone long, he had plans to unwind with a bottle of bourbon and maybe a game or three of checkers, but as you slipped into the spacious and hallowed room belonging to the commander in chief, he nearly jolted out of his skin. There you were, his First Lady, in a skimpy little silk robe, intricate updo long gone in favor of soft curls, and the adorable little fuzzy cat slippers that he’d bought you for Christmas.
“Good evening Mr. President” you said with a smirk as you locked the door and padded over to his desk. You’d chosen well, the beautiful mahogany writing table had belonged to Theodore Roosevelt, and while it hadn’t been used in many a president’s term, you had made sure it was painstakingly restored and ready for his first day. Now that you were here, all he could seem to think of is how much fun it might be to test the sturdiness of the surface, perhaps he did need to blow off a little steam after such a stressful day…
“Sweet girl, you do realize there’s cameras everywhere right?” He said as you pushed his chair back just enough to fit between his thighs, very gently sitting on the edge of the antique escritoire. This desk had seen many a scandal, so many historical events, and you were quite sure she should handle the weight of what you had planned next.
“Already got that covered, Phoenix is on surveillance right now, you can go ahead and go dark Nat!” You said in the general direction of where they’d mentioned cameras were placed, a notification on your phone let you know she’d confirmed that the two of you had thirty minutes all to yourselves and you broke out in a blinding grin as you leaned forward to press a kiss to Bob’s jawline. The sharp intake of breath and his hands immediately going to your hips let you know he’d need this just as much as you, it had been embarrassingly long since the two of you had been together, and you filed away the notion that you would need to make sure you had the right security in play to make quickies like this a regular occurrence, policy be damned.
You’d drawn his lips to yours as you untied his tie and began unbuttoning the front of his dress shirt, his hands had drifted to palming your ass as he licked the seam of your mouth, a gasp from you was all he needed to slide his tongue against yours, squeezing you a little more roughly and all but pulling you into the plush office chair.
“Fuck I missed you,” he breathed into your mouth, you’d nearly gotten his dress shirt removed when he slotted his knee between your legs, large hands gripping the back of your thighs as he placed you back on the desk, this time swiping whatever loose papers off the top and sending them cascading across the plush carpet that held the presidential seal. You squealed and giggled, watching with rapt attention as he removed his dress shirt and exposed the defined freckled skin of his arms, pulling his undershirt off with less finesse as it joined the pile of papers on the floor. “I’ve never found a president to be sexy until just this moment, I have to admit, you look damn good in this office, sir” you said as you leaned back on your palms and ogled him, heat crept up his cheeks and chest at your praise, but his eyes had darkened at the honorific, you knew exactly what you were doing to him, and he could feel his dress slacks getting uncomfortably tight as you ran your bare feet up and down the back of his legs.
“You wanna be a good girl for me Madame First Lady? Let me lay you out and devour you where anyone could walk in?” His voice grew impossibly deeper and you let out a whimper in response, shifting to try and get some relief. You did want that, you wanted it so badly you could scream, it was the very thought of being dirty and unladylike for the man you loved that had you so hot and bothered, and he trailed one long finger down your sternum to remove your robe, fire in his eyes as he opened the sash and found you completely bare for him.
“Goddamn it, should have known you’d do this, you know exactly how to wind me up don’t ya? Whole world wants to know how to bring me to my knees and all they’d have to do is weaponize you and this perfect pussy.” He was completely fixated on your arousal glistening between your legs, and while normally you’d let him take his time, you knew it wouldn’t be long before some aid or agent came by to make sure he had everything he needed for the evening. If they only knew.
“Bobby, please? Don’t have a lot of time baby” you said as you squirmed on the polished wood and searched for some kind of relief. He seemed to snap out of his haze as lust clouded eyes fixed on yours, letting his index finger trail down your stomach and through your folds, watching your head fall back and chest heave at his teasing.
“Need to hear you say it sweet girl, you know what I want.” You blushed in earnest, he loved how dirty you could get, but that had always been behind closed doors in the comfort of your own home, you’d be mortified if anyone heard some of the things you’d said in the throes of pleasure; but it was his big day after all. If he wanted it, you’d give him the moon.
“Need your mouth on me Daddy, want you to make me cum and then fuck me with your big dick. Please? Please give it to me, ‘s been too long, fuck - I-“ you babbled at him as he continued to rub that one long finger up and down, it was maddening and had you choking on your words, thankfully he didn’t make you wait, spreading you open and pressing two fingers into you as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your clit. The relief was immediate, you moaned out into the empty room as he went to work on your aching pussy, drawing tight circles with this tongue as he scissored his fingers inside you. It had been weeks and he knew he’d need to get you ready, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going insane over the little noises you made and the iron grip you had on his hair, tugging at his scalp as you bucked up into his pretty face to search for your release.
It was startling how fast he got you there, you were certain you were dripping down onto the desk now, wet smacks and moans coming from between your thighs as you peeked down to look at his deep cerulean eyes. He was too damn good at this and he knew it, had the audacity to wink at you as he nibbled on your clit and with a gasp you came all over his face, watching as he wiped his mouth with his arm and smirking like the cocky bastard he was. He controlled the entire free world now, but he would still consider it his greatest accomplishment that he could render his pretty wife to a babbling needy mess with his tongue. Disheveled looked good on you, blush spread across your cheeks and chest, hair a mess, and your release all over your thighs from what he intended to be one of at least three mind blowing orgasms.
You looped your heavy arms around his neck and kissed him languidly, you didn’t seem to be as worried about the time anymore and for that he was thankful. He wanted to take his time, and if somebody walked in they would find out very quickly to knock, he couldn’t give a shit about anything other than getting his cock inside you.
You knew the rule all too well; no visible marks. It had been that way from the very beginning, which was unfortunate because you wanted so badly to mark his pretty neck up and make sure everyone knew he was yours, but the compromise was that you could leave them anywhere below the collarbone, so as he fished for the condom he’d stashed in his pocket (hoping to end the night just like this), you licked down his neck and began nibbling on the flesh of his pecks, sucking a nipple into your mouth and looking up at him as his jaw went slack. “Oh Christ, you gotta stop that baby or we’ll be finished before we even get started” he panted out and tried not to buck up into you, the hand gripping your thigh was sure to leave a mark but you couldn’t give a shit, there was something so powerful in being able to bring the most powerful man on earth to his knees, and even better knowing that he was insatiable for you.
“Then fuck me Mr. President, and you don’t need that condom either. I think you should put a baby in me, fill me up so good that I’m dripping with you all day tomorrow.” You grinned at him but he looked completely debauched, he ran a hand through his graying sandy locks and blinked down at you, almost at a loss for words.
“You little minx, you’ve been just waiting all day to drop that on me haven’t you? Need me to cum in that pretty pussy and get you good and knocked up? Fuck you’d think it was my birthday or something, I don’t know how I got it so good.” He said as he spread you out and ran his hands all over you, you were whimpering and grinding into him and he was sure he’d pass out if he was any harder, slipping himself out of his briefs and sliding his length through your slick. You were trying hard to be quiet, sure it was late but there was bound to be someone on watch, Bob gripped your chin as he slid into you and kissed you sloppily, all teeth and tongue and moans, shallow thrusts to get you ready turned rough when you sucked his bottom lip and pushed your hips up to take him to the hilt. You gripped the front of the desk behind your head and let him pound you into it, the need for quiet long forgotten as you alternated between crying out and calling him daddy.
It didn’t take him long before he was close, the aftershocks of your second orgasm seemed to keep him gripped so tight that he could barely think straight, he was furiously rubbing your clit to get you there again as he watched tears drip down your flushed cheeks, he’d never forget tonight for the rest of his life. Not all the fanfare, not even the immense weight of the mantle he was about to take, but this moment right here, wrapped up in his gorgeous wife as he fucked her silly in the Oval Office. You wailed out “I’m cumming” as you gripped him tight with your pulsing heat and he tumbled over the edge right along with you, warming you from the inside out as he filled you up.
You cradled his sweaty form in your arms as you both came down from your high, giggles erupting from him as it really set in what you two had done.
“Ah shit, well everyone’s gonna know that we can’t keep our hands to ourselves after this, I imagine the press will have a field day.” He kissed your nose as you grinned at him, both of you still joined together but neither of you ready to separate.
A loud ring came from his phone and it sent a jolt through both of you, wide eyes trained on his as he leaned forward and grabbed it off the hook. His eyes were full of mirth as he nodded his head once, twice and bid them goodnight, pinching your cheek with his free hand before hanging up.
“What was that all about?” You said, trying to push him up so you could get decent and off his desk.
“That was Nat, she said we need to hurry the hell up before me going MIA causes a national emergency.” He was joking of course, but the secret service agents at the door couldn’t look either of you in the eye as you shuffled down the hallway with Bob’s hand in yours, and it was no surprise to anyone when you turned up pregnant by the state of the union.
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Tagging- @bobgasm @attapullman @bobfloydsbabe @floydsglasses @sebsxphia @roosterforme @sunsetsimpsblog @seitmai @auroralightsthesky @withahappyrefrain @hangmanapologist
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ahundredtimesover · 11 months ago
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I Want You to Stay (02) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 11.9k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
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A/N: Hiii really touched with all the love for this story! I don’t know about you but this hits harder with all the boys away and we’re missing them so badly. But we’ve got this! 💕 But thank you thank you for all the messages (sorry I can’t get to each one!) and the interest and excitement. Hope you enjoy this one ☺️
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
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Despite hoping that he wouldn’t, Jungkook, in fact, pushes you further away on his second day on the job. 
To his defense, it was partly your fault. You smiled at him last night - perhaps due to your delicious dinner that you didn’t even know was from him - and it disarmed him. 
The words you uttered after just flew over his head and he just nodded, too out of it to confirm what you’d said. It probably had something to do about you not coming to his penthouse, because it’s Tuesday morning and you’re still not here. He’d expected that like yesterday, you'd prepare his breakfast, and after all that transpired, debrief after yesterday’s meetings and discuss the next steps. That was his routine with Lucas, and for all the things that you seemed to know and do right - from his room design, the doneness of his eggs, and his coffee - this was a miss. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be assisting me from the start of the day?” Jungkook says over the phone, his tone sounding annoyed. “I’ve been waiting for you since 6:30.”
Your heart drops at his words, the memory from last night of him agreeing to you sticking to the same schedule you had with Hoseok suddenly feeling like some made up scenario. You remember telling Jungkook that you go straight to the office the rest of the week; you’d only go to Hoseok’s house on Mondays to prepare his clothes and brief him because he’s able to manage from Tuesday onwards. Your new boss, for some reason, perhaps misheard your question. And now you’re the one in trouble. 
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you bring yourself to say, your voice in a panic because regardless of who’s in the wrong, making him wait is not a good start to his day nor yours, and especially not to your already rocky relationship. “I can get a cab then head to you.”
“So you want me to wait for you some more?” He chides, his dry laugh making you want to throw your phone just so you won’t hear his voice anymore. “Just stay wherever you are, but I want the meeting minutes from yesterday ready when I get there since you’re not here to go over them with me.”
Jungkook hangs up and your head thumping on your desk is immediate. It’s barely the start of the day and you already want to go back home and probably never come back. 
You left the office at 9 last night, knowing you were too exhausted to continue working on the annotated documents, and then got soaked in the rain on your way home. You planned on coming to work early - given that your boss didn’t require you to go to his penthouse, a claim you stand by - so you can continue, but now he wants the meeting minutes in an hour, and that isn’t usually due until three days later. 
Neglecting the sandwich you planned on eating for breakfast, you work on your notes from the first meeting and then move on to the next. Every footstep you hear makes you anxious, and you breathe a sigh of relief every time you find out it’s not him. Every minute counts and you’re thankful for each one. Until, of course, you run out of it. 
“Send them to me now and meet me in my office,” his voice echoes through the hallway that leads to his room. 
Jungkook walks straight past you and doesn’t even give you a look.
“Yes, sir,” you squeak, quickly sending the email then scurrying to where he is. 
You find him seated on his chair, his leg crossed over the other one as he goes through the notes on his iPad, his furrowed eyebrows making you sweat in worry. He doesn’t seem pleased. But from what you’ve witnessed so far, you doubt there’s much that pleases him.
He encircles words and scribbles on the sides, mumbling “incomplete,” “what does this mean,” and “this is not what I said.”
Jungkook sets the device on his desk and groans. He turns to you with a hard glare, and you clearly see just how displeased he is. Not that you have any defense - it’s your job to do what he asked in a manner that’s up to his standards - but you already felt discouraged in the morning, and your meal skipping caused you to lose focus in the afternoon, resulting in your less than satisfactory documentation of the meeting.
“Ms. Cho, do you know the value of these documents? And why I require them to be comprehensive and done on time?”
“Uh, ye-yes, sir,” you drag out.
“Why?”
It’s too early for this, you think to yourself. Clearly you know why they’re important; you’re just too tired to articulate the reasons to him. But you try, as the words form in your head. You’re about to say them when he stands from his chair and walks towards his desk, leans on the edge and then intently looks at you, as if he’s judging even the way you’re breathing or standing. And you’d probably fail, given how your body seems to cower in his presence. 
“Because decisions are made through them,” he says, drowning out your thoughts with his stern voice. “I attend numerous meetings everyday. Decision points can be buried in the discussions unless they’re documented properly. And even when they are, they’re not actioned upon immediately unless I have access to them and unless they’ve been processed and verified. I don’t leave those conference rooms and forget about what took place. They stay in my head, that’s why I ask you to write them down, and that’s why I require you to meet me first thing in the morning so that I can process them with you, and let those points guide me for the rest of the week.”
His glare continues, so does his voice getting louder. “My job isn’t just to sit around and listen to people. I make decisions. And it’s your job to make sure I have all the correct information to make them.”
“I… I understand, sir. And I… I apologize for the oversight,” you stutter, still unable to look at him. “But about this morning, uh… you, uh last night, I—”
“Was there an explicit statement from me about not having you come in the morning?”
“No, sir.”
He lets the silence draw out, perhaps to let your own words sink in. He does have a point. You stand by your claim that you’d asked, and he nodded, but you should also know that such gestures aren’t clear responses, and that’s on you to make sure that you’re both on the same page. 
“I’m sorry, sir,” you say with conviction. “I made an assumption when I should have clarified. And even then, it’s your first week as Vice President. I should be assisting you in all the ways I can.”
Jungkook watches your form, hands clasped together with your nails sinking into your skin. Your head is bowed down, unable or unwilling to look at him this whole time. He knows he’s at fault, too, but he’d never admit it; he’s not exactly the type to do that. 
You stand there in submission and a part of him wants to apologize, but that’s not the type of weakness he wants to show, not when he needs to establish authority and more importantly, distance.
“I require Lucas to still come every morning because that’s the only time we can debrief about the previous day’s activities,” he says, making his voice calmer now. “We go through the minutes, clarify things, finalize them, and then disseminate so that people don’t forget. Teams collaborate effectively when there’s accountability and when timelines are adhered to. It’s my job to make sure they comply. And that means it’s your job, too. I don’t have to remind you of your roles now do I, Ms. Cho?”
“No, sir,” you respond, finding the strength in you to finally look at him, his hardened stare still unnerving you. 
He uncrosses his arms and walks back to his seat. “My cousin and I work very differently from each other. It’s on you to adjust.” 
“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in acknowledgment. “I’ll be at your apartment at 6:30 every morning and I’ll do better with my documentation and preparation of all the files.”
Jungkook just hums then proceeds to work on something on his desktop, which you take as your cue to leave. You bow again and excuse yourself, but his voice stops you as you open the door.
“Push back this morning’s meeting to 9:00,” he says. “And make sure you have something to eat. I can’t have you be unfocused again like yesterday.”
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You survive the rest of Tuesday. You eat snacks rather than proper meals, and you find that that helps you more with time and focus. The meetings for that day are less intense, but with you still figuring out exactly how Jungkook wants the documents prepared, you stay up after hours and work on them for the next day, with you constantly going over the recording to make sure that you documented everything correctly. 
You arrive at his penthouse at 6:30 every morning during the week. You make his breakfast while he takes a shower, which is really whatever’s in his fridge or pantry. He doesn’t seem to mind what you prepare for him, and you’re glad that he doesn’t find any more severe reasons to dislike you. There’s still the occasional correction of your minutes, but you chalk it up to him just being too particular. There are terms he uses that you’re not familiar with; he’s an architect by training after all.
Perhaps it’s why he’s as specific and detail-oriented as he is, and more visual than anything. Hoseok is a perfectionist like him, but the older man has everything organized in his head and then executes them, whereas Jungkook needs them all laid out before him. Whether it’s about a policy, a process, and especially a design, he makes sure they’re drawn out, and the way they all just make sense to him is immediate. 
You suppose that’s what he’s used to. Plans need representation beyond words; he doesn’t seem to be the type to use much of them, in fact, unless he’s correcting you. But that’s what you’ve noticed. At some points during the meeting, he’d draw something on his iPad and send it to you; you both discuss it the next morning, with you finding the words for it for proper documentation. 
But his mind doesn’t seem to stop, as you catch him on the way to work sometimes doodling some design on this leather notebook that he carries with him everywhere. Whether it’s the Arts Center or something else, you’re not sure, but you know that any moment he pulls it out, he’d spend a good amount of time on it before getting out of the car.
He remains distant and disengaged as you expect him to be. Unlike Hoseok who asks you how your evening went or how the trip to his house was, Jungkook doesn’t talk about anything that doesn’t concern work. And so when he isn’t talking about it, there’s just silence - whether in the car, in the elevator, or the walk to his room. There’s none of the laughter or the questions about how you’re coping with all your tasks, and there’s definitely nothing about his life that he shares. Not that you thought he would, but the difference with your old boss is striking, as you think of the times when Hoseok happily talked about the salsa studio he was at with A-yeong over the weekend or the movie they watched together the night before.
The comparisons remain in your head throughout the week. You try to focus on your responsibilities but you realize that you haven’t properly moved on from the culture and environment that you used to enjoy when Hoseok was still leading the team, and that has affected your work in obvious ways, and especially your approach to it. 
There’s anxiety with every task that Jungkook asks of you, even if they’re things you’ve done so many times in your three years as the VP’s assistant. You find yourself constantly clarifying his instructions, prompting him to question your ability to take them. You feel like he’ll be displeased regardless of what your output is, yet you still end up spending too much time going over files that you forget to eat or clock out too late. You don’t get proper sleep either, nervous about what the next day will bring. You second-guess yourself constantly, and all the confidence you built in all your time here doesn’t seem to have as strong of a foundation as you thought. 
So when you make another mistake the following Tuesday, whatever belief in yourself that you have left dissipates. 
“Ms. Cho, where is the folder?” Jungkook asks, his gaze hardening the longer you look at him without a word. 
You’re currently at a restaurant, given that your boss has a meeting with Mr. Hu, the owner of the company that produces quality materials that Jungkook wants for the Arts Center. This was scheduled just yesterday, which is also when he’d asked you to put together the rough draft plans and design that he worked on last weekend. The project is in its early stages but the plans are clear to Jungkook and he wants to secure this deal early on, especially with Mr. Hu leaving the country for a few weeks. 
You finalized this last night and left it on your desk along with the portfolios that Yoongi and the support team have been taking from your shelf. Given the week you’ve had - lack of sleep and frustration more than anything - you rushed to get ready and mistakenly took a portfolio and not the folder meant for this meeting.
“I… I’m so sorry, sir, but I seem to have taken the wrong files,” you stutter, eyes on the ground as you clutch the portfolio for support. “They… they were on my desk along with others and I left them in the office.”
There’s a long pause before Jungkook speaks, the irritation clear in his voice.
“Do you at least have a soft copy?”
“It’s on a USB, sir,” you reply, nervously raising your head. “I left it as well.”
You try your hardest not to look at him, even if it seems like he wants you to, just so you can see the burning way he does it. Because you feel him huffing, you can see how he’s clenching his fists as he controls what he’s feeling, which is definitely anger towards your stupid mistake. 
Jungkook clears his throat before turning back to the man seated across from him, his voice apologetic as he explains that you weren’t able to bring it. 
“Ah, what a shame,” Mr. Hu says, judgingly glancing at you. “I was really looking forward to seeing your plans, Jungkook. I could’ve advised my people to check on the materials you want this early.”
“I’m really sorry,” Jungkook says. “Perhaps I can email them over to you?”
“Oh don’t bother, I’ll be chasing the Italian sun for the next three weeks,” the older man chuckles. “I’ll see you when I get back. By then, I hope you and your assistant have sorted things out and could give me actual information about what you want.”
“We will, I assure you,” Jungkook says, before saying goodbye to him.
He walks past you and you follow, with no words said as you both wait for the car and enter. 
You can hear him panting, and you know enough that's due to an extreme emotion he can’t express. He won’t look at or say anything to you, and that feels more terrifying. 
His phone rings, and not only does the person on the other line talk about what just happened, you happen to hear it, too.
“Hey, I heard what happened with the big boss,” the man says. “Did you really go to the meeting unprepared?”
“It wasn’t me, but yeah, what a mess,” Jungkook huffs, his head leaning back on the chair, his eyes closed as he calms himself down. “What did he say? Is he angry?”
“Nah. You’re a Jeon; he can’t be. He was just a bit annoyed because he was supposed to have a meeting with another client but he chose to see you.”
“Fuck. What an embarrassment,” Jungkook groans.
“Well, he does have high praises for your father.”
“And this is his first time working with me. My dad’s gonna hear about it and give me shit for it.”
“Just another normal day at the office, right?” The man laughs. “So, was it your assistant that screwed up?”
Jungkook hums his yes, knowing you’re two seats away from him, although he’s unsure if you can hear their conversation. For your sake, he hopes you can’t.
“See? This is why you should’ve taken Lucas! That guy was always two steps ahead of you.”
“That’s what I said, but when are my requests ever granted? Never. Another normal day at the office, huh?”
“If she’s pretty, maybe you can forgive them and just suffer through her incompetence,” the man laughs again. “I mean, she’s got to have some redeeming quality somehow. If she doesn’t, that just sucks for you.”
“You really enjoy making fun of my misfortunes, huh?” Jungkook huffs.
“Just sometimes. Not used to you not having your way, that’s all.”
“Well, nothing is going my way, that's for sure. But whatever, I’ll figure it out. Make sure Mr. Hu holds out for me, okay? I need you to help me this time.”
“Hey, I may laugh at your misfortunes but I always have your back,” the man says. “Good luck, VP. I’ll see you soon.”
Jungkook drops the call and you feel him glance at you but you remain stiff on your seat, unwilling to move nor look anywhere else that isn’t your lap. You’re glad that he decides to close his eyes for the rest of the ride, though, so you take your chance to shift towards the window and watch the buildings fly by, willing your tears not to fall.
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You hold out until you arrive at the building. That is, until Jungkook heads straight to his room and asks you to follow. 
“Own up to your mistake and look at me,” he says, his voice seeping with disdain. 
You lift your head and meet his eyes, his gaze piercing right through you and you’re unable to move, to speak. But you try - a futile attempt, really - at appealing to the compassionate side of him, if it even exists. 
“I’m so, so sorry Mr. Jeon,” you plead for forgiveness. “I didn’t mean to forget the folder. It’s been a tough week and—”
“A tough week?” he mocks, his voice getting louder now. “As if you’re the only one who’s had one? I come here and find myself doing your job. I spent the weekend drafting the designs because I need that deal early only for you to screw it up! My father’s been on to me about this project and I need everything done right but I can’t seem to because my assistant, who’s supposed to be assisting me, can’t even get the most basic things done. All you had to do was bring the folder. You didn’t even have a contingency plan of having a soft copy. Were you not trained for this role?” 
You visibly shake but Jungkook doesn’t let up.
“Answer me.”
“I… I was, Mr. Jeon,” you tremble. “I know I’m not the smartest but I work hard and I—”
“You work hard?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In what?”
“In preparing your files and organizing everything for you and…” you try. 
A month ago, you’d be saying these things and more with so much conviction.  But all it took was one Jeon Jungkook to break you down and make you doubt every single skill you’ve developed and been praised for the past few years.
“And I can criticize each of those tasks in just this one week you’ve been my assistant.”
“I… I just needed guidance, sir, because it’s a new—”
“I need guidance. I need assisting,” he sneers. “My father wanted me to keep you because you apparently know how things are supposed to be done but you’re asking for guidance from me?”
There’s silence on your end and you’ve never felt as small as you do right now. The way Mrs. Byun abused her power over you and humiliated you during your first years here continues to be unmatched, but being treated this way by a man whose family you respect somehow hurts you more. 
You want to give up now. You’ll lose everything if you decide to just quit but it’s not like there’s much left of you to go by anyway, given the week that you’ve had. But if there’s anything your mother taught you is that the lowest you can go is when you don’t fight for yourself, so you gather what little dignity you have left and look him in the eyes. 
“You do things very differently from Mr. Jung like you said, and I admire your thoroughness,” you start, trying your hardest to calm the tone of your voice. “You’re adjusting to your new role with a new team and a new assistant that you didn’t choose but somehow you have to trust and that’s unnerving if you’re used to being in control of everything. With all due respect, however, perhaps if you let the people around you adjust as well, we would all find a way to work together effectively and respectfully. A little bit of compassion wouldn’t hurt, and it goes a long way.”
At his silence, you continue, digging your nails deeper into your skin to help you remain stable.
“I apologize for all the mistakes this past week. I know it has been unpleasant for you as well. I’ll do better, that I can promise. But if the way I work is not something that is up to your standard, then there’s only one thing to do. Me quitting would put you in a worse light; you can fire me if you think it is best,” you bravely state. “I can deal with the consequences.”
Jungkook continues to just look at you, unable to say anything this time. Perhaps he isn’t used to someone speaking to him like this. Maybe he’s finding the right words to hit you back and break you even more. The tiniest part of you wants to think you’ve softened him up a bit; hopefully he’ll be less angry at you the next time.
“Is there anything you need me to work on, Mr. Jeon?”
“No,” he answers. “Just hold off all calls for me for the next hour. I don’t want to be disturbed.”
“Understood, Mr. Jeon.” 
You bow and head out the door. 
Jungkook watches you leave, and the farther you become, the more he wishes you’d stay.
He’s unsure why. Perhaps it’s the way you spoke to him, similar to the way you did the first time you met over a week ago - with conviction and grace despite you putting him in his place. Maybe it’s him, trying to find the words to apologize without seeming weak, or to encourage you without being comfortable. The tiniest part of him just wants you around; he doesn’t know what it is about you but he finds himself feeling intense emotions because of you - frustration, fear, and an overwhelming feeling of sadness and regret. 
He returns to his seat and glances through the window, the angle of his chair allowing him to see you outside, although he’s unsure if you’re able to see him. Either way, it’s not like you’ve ever looked his way anyway, so he feels a little safe doing this now. 
You’re seated and turned away from the desk, with your fingers pressing over both your ears, as if you’re blocking out the sounds of the room; perhaps you’re blocking out his voice that’s probably still echoing in your head. He’d seen you do this last week, too, after you failed to show up at his penthouse in the morning. He thinks it’s your way of dealing with stress, a quiet one, in contrast to boxing like what he prefers to do. It’s the only time he’d ever allow himself to express anything, after all, other than getting mad at you apparently. 
You finally turn around, but it’s not long after when Do-hyun arrives and takes your place, leaving him to wonder where you’re off to. He focuses on his work like he meant to do, opting to read and send emails while he calms himself down. His eyes always turn to your desk, though, and when he sees that he’s halfway done but you’re still not back, he decides to head out.
“Mr. Jeon,” Do-hyun stands up and greets him. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Where’s Ms. Cho?”
“She had to go to the washroom so she asked me to cover for her first,” she responds. “But, uh… She’s been gone for half an hour. I… I’m not sure what she’s up to but I can—.”
It’s at that moment when you return, and the way that both Do-hyun and Jungkook look at you that you know they can tell. You can’t exactly cry for 20 minutes and then expect to ease the swelling of your eyes for the next 10. But you act like nothing’s amiss, so you dismiss the younger woman and turn to Jungkook.
“Was there something that you needed from me, Mr. Jeon?” You ask nonchalantly.
“Just, uh…” he stutters now, taken aback by the casual way you speak to him despite your glassy eyes. “I’m meeting the CEO and President tomorrow to discuss the Arts Center. Put the initial plans in presentation format and send it to me first thing in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” you respond, returning to your seat and not sparing him another glance. 
You work on the presentation in between the other things you need to finish. You draft memos and letters for Jungkook’s approval, and it’s half past 4 when you enter his room to have them signed. 
“I’m heading out at 5 for dinner,” he says as he signs the documents. “I’ve added points on the shared file for the presentation. Make sure to include those.”
“I will, sir.”
There’s a brief moment where you and Jungkook just look at each other, words swimming in your own heads that neither of you wants to say out loud.
You wish he’d offer an apology.
He wishes you’d say that you’re okay.
You want to tell him that the Arts Center already sounds amazing; you hope it turns out the way he imagines.
He wants to tell you that he won’t fire you, that despite how he’s been, he doesn’t want you to go anywhere.
But the moment passes and then it’s gone. You bow once more and then head out the door. 
He leaves at exactly 5, merely nodding at you as he leaves. 
Jungkook sees you again that evening, four hours later as he drives home after having dinner with Seokjin and Taehyung, the brothers he’d grown up with. The office is on the way, and it’s near the bus stop where he spots you, trying to catch a cab that someone always gets to before you do. 
The rain has started to pour, and his anxiety builds; he was never fond of it, given the memory it holds. But it’s you in your thin coat that suspends that for a while. You’re clearly shivering, unable to get a ride, and getting wet from the downpour. You cross the street, seemingly just submitting to the weather, and you disappear amongst the crowd of people just trying to get home. 
He checks his phone as he gets a message and sees the email you sent 20 minutes ago - the presentation he’d asked you to submit in the morning. This is you, making up for today, he guesses. He’s why you’re braving the rain. If he’s being honest, he’s why you’re suffering at all, and he can’t help the way his heart stings at the thought. 
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The convenience store is bright and dry unlike the streets outside, and that’s why there’s a substantial amount of people seeking shelter from the downpour that came out of nowhere. 
You welcome the rain. It served as a distraction when you were growing up and your mother’s ex-partner would yell nonstop. You’d hide in your room and cover your ears like your mother taught you to do. When she was able, she’d stay with you and cover your ears with her own hands and tell you that it’s gonna be okay, that even if you can’t stop the scary sounds, you can drown them out enough that they’ll stop bothering you. 
You didn’t think you’d ever do so again but you’ve done that twice in one week, and all it took was one Jeon Jungkook to lecture you about what your job entails. He didn’t yell, but his voice was still piercing, firm and low as if he reserves that intensity for instances of pure frustration. 
That kind of thing takes a lot out of someone. It’s different when a boss is out to abuse their power and take advantage of you. Mrs. Byun made you do her work so she could spend her lunches out and then take credit for outputs without acknowledging you. She sucked up to the directors to overcompensate for not knowing how to answer their questions. And then she had the guts to embarrass you and call you out in front of the team for not being able to do your primary tasks, which was only because you were doing hers. It took a while but her incompetence caught up to her and her departure felt like freedom. But the experience with her was constricting, suffocating, humiliating. It was dehumanizing, too, as you went home to an empty apartment every night, feeling less and less of yourself.
But the way Jungkook treats you hits differently. You’ve survived the worst and ended up in a good spot under Hoseok’s leadership where you built your confidence. During those years, you felt capable, like you were trusted; you felt that your hard work earned you respect. 
Now, you feel all that crumbling. You feel exposed, bare; as if you’re realizing you’re not that good after all. How you’ve been isn’t like you. You’re meticulous, analytical; you’ve sat in so many meetings as an observer and know how things work, how the directors think, and the kinds of outputs expected from you. But recently, you find yourself just lost, questioning everything all the time, and so incapable.
You let yourself feel the burden weigh you down as you eat a small cup of noodles and call it dinner. You walk down the aisles and pick out your favorite snacks, first eating the roasted almonds as you head out the door. 
The rain has let up, with but a drizzle left this late evening. You catch the bus and munch on pepero and chocopie this time. You’re in your neighborhood by the time you tear open the frosted mini donuts. You’ve been mindlessly eating the whole time, but once you get off your stop, you start walking towards the community center. The public library is closed but something about sitting outside the door gives you comfort, just like it used to when you were growing up.
Your mom couldn’t really afford daycare. She’d spend her lunch break picking you up from school then dropping you off at a library where her friend worked; that nice woman always looked after you until your mom came back to pick you up. Some days when she wanted to take you away from the mess that was her partner, she’d take you there, too. 
You read mostly picture books and colored on your coloring book and played with your paper dolls. Even as you grew up, you didn't really read; you just liked that the library was quiet, comfortable, that it made you feel safe. 
Your phone beeps and you see a photo that your mother has just sent of her dry living room floor. 
[From: Mom] it isn’t leaking anymore! 
You smile, imagining her sigh of relief and the way she’s probably humming about the house. You decide to call her; another bit of comfort would definitely help.
“Hi, darling,” she answers after the first ring. “Min-woo went to the hardware store when he arrived in the afternoon so he could fix the roof. What a relief.”
“That’s great, mom,” you reply, wishing you were back home with her. “You can have a good sleep tonight, then.”
“I will. What about you?”
“I hope so.”
“Have you had dinner?”
“Hmm, yeah,” you hum. 
“And where are you now?”
“Outside the library,” you say. 
There’s silence that comes after, a way in which you both say things without words sometimes. Your mom is good at that, and even if you can’t see her, you know there’s love in her eyes. And even if she can’t see you, she knows there’s sadness in yours. 
“So, work has been tough lately, am I right?”
Even without any confirmation, she already knows. She probably knew when you said that everything was fine after she asked how things were going during your visit over the weekend. She probably picked up the faintness of your smile and the way you fell asleep on her lap while you both watched TV and she combed your hair like she always did. 
“The new boss is quite hard on me,” you admit. “He expects too much, asks me to do too much… I’m trying but I keep making mistakes. I’m missing things I normally don’t. I’m not like this, mom. I… I’m better than this.”
“Oh, darling,” she sighs, wishing she’d hugged you a little tighter before you left. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Maybe you’re still adjusting. That’s valid, you know? It’s only been a week.”
“Yeah, but he acts like he’s the only one who needs to adjust and that I just magically know how to do things his way,” you groan. “It… it just makes me feel like I’m not good enough. That I… that I shouldn’t be here.”
“___, you didn’t suffer through your first few years there just so you would continue to doubt yourself,” she responds. “You deserve your role, regardless of what he thinks. You work hard and that means everything.”
“Not to him apparently. Even if I work hard, if it’s not up to his standards, it doesn’t mean anything. I can’t even do anything about it because he’s the CEO’s son.” 
“You can quit, you know?” She says after a beat of silence. “You don’t have to stay if it’s too much, and especially if it’s unfair. Just because you know you can handle it, doesn’t mean you should.”
The thought settles in your head. You did just tell Jungkook that you’d rather he fire you, which honestly terrifies you because much as he’s insufferable, you do need this job. Helping your mom over the weekend reminded you of that. From the health insurance to the salary, you don’t have to worry too much because you can finally repay her for all her hard work in raising you, in protecting you, in surviving for you. 
“I know,” you sigh. “Maybe I just let the tough first days get to me.”
“Whatever it is, you shouldn’t suffer. And you definitely shouldn’t suffer alone,” she advises. “I’m glad you came over during the weekend even if for unpleasant reasons. I got to hug you even if I didn’t know you needed it.”
“I always need it, mom,” you admit. “I don’t have to say it. It’s the only one I get anyway.”
“Well, it’s because it’s the only one you accept,” she points out. 
“True,” you laugh. “But I… I’ll do better. I’ll get my head straight tonight and treat tomorrow like my first day and you know, show him I’m capable.”
“That’s good. And you can come over again this weekend if you want. The storm should be gone by then. The girls want to go to the park. I know they’d love to hang out with you. If you don’t have plans of course.”
“You know I only ever have actual weekend plans when Jimin and Soomin visit me. But yes, I can take the trip on Saturday. If Jungkook wants me to do any work… screw him.”
Your mother laughs, only because she knows you don’t mean it. You know it, too. Regardless of how you think of your boss or your job, you know the value of your work, and you’re not one to sacrifice it for any reason. 
“Are you feeling better, darling?”
“Yeah,” you smile. “The rain’s stopped somehow. I needed to be here. And I… I needed to hear your voice.”
“Good. You know you can call whenever. I don’t have to summon you with photos of a roof or grilled makchang or something every time.”
“I know. And I will. I’ll see you soon.”
You drop the call and start walking back home. Talking with your mom is the strength you need to get through such a tough day. It doesn’t change your situation; maybe Jungkook will still be upset with you in the morning but you’ll handle it, just like you handled all the difficult times before. 
Your mother taught you something else - it was grace. You’d fight back if you need to, but you can always do it with gentleness; sometimes that works wonders, especially if you can’t afford to respond with rage. 
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You’re quite nervous walking to Jungkook’s penthouse the next morning. 
Before he left last night, you were sporting glassy and swollen eyes, after all; it wouldn’t have taken much for him to know what you were up to by being away from your desk for half an hour. But you’d been too upset to think of what he would think about it, so you acted like it was nothing when you returned to your seat, took note of his instructions, and watched him walk out. No other words were spoken and quite frankly, you don’t know what either of you could have said after what transpired. It’s a new day, though, and like you told your mother, you’ll just focus on your work and try to get that old version of yourself back, the one you’d felt slipped away this past week.
You enter the front door - as he’d told you to just go in so you don’t disrupt his workout - and immediately hear the loud sounds of leather hitting leather. He seems to be aggressively punching the sandbag, with more evidence of it coming in the form of his deep and successive breaths that you can hear as you walk towards the kitchen. You stop on your tracks, though, as a pair of red laced underwear lays crumpled on the floor.
That definitely wasn’t there yesterday morning so it must’ve been from last night. You’re not one to judge; he did have a frustrating day that you caused and releasing all that stress in this way is understandable. You just wish he had the courtesy to clean up, knowing that his assistant would be coming but then again, you also don’t know if that’s too much to ask of him.
You don’t realize that you’ve been staring at the underwear until you hear him, his deep breaths in tandem with his steps. You walk towards the counter and set him a glass of water before he notices what’s got your attention, but he still does, as he stops at the spot where you were and lets out a grunt. 
From your periphery, you see him pick up the piece of lingerie then throw it in the trash. You turn to him and bow in greeting, and Jungkook merely nods, the slightest of head tilts to acknowledge your presence, seemingly avoiding your eyes, even as you ask what he prefers to eat this morning. You’d like to think that in the recesses of his bitter heart, there’s remorse over yesterday at least, if not over the past few days. But you’ll take it; his silence is better than anything at this moment. 
You follow him towards his bedroom, stopping briefly as you look around and make sure you’re not intruding. You’re unsure if the woman is still here, but he picks up on that.
“She’s gone,” he says, walking to his bathroom. “I never make them stay.”
It’s a part of his life that you’ve only heard of. The gossip that Do-hyun hears from the washrooms in the office may be true, considering his weeknight bang and the left-behind underwear on the kitchen floor. He still had some energy based on his morning workout though, and you don’t know why the thought of him fucking someone and then boxing in the morning is making you feel hot all over. 
You snap yourself out of it, knowing it’s inappropriate and definitely not what you should be worrying about. He’s a stressed, obviously attractive, and rich bachelor; you’re not surprised he’d have women at his beck-and-call and be nonchalant about it.
You walk inside his closet and choose the shoes and accessories he’ll wear today before heading back to the kitchen to prepare his breakfast. He walks in 30 minutes later, and you approach him to fix his collar and his tie like you always do, now getting used to his natural scent with hints of jasmine and bergamot. Your eyes focus on the silk necktie, hoping you’re able to control your nervous breathing being this close to him. 
He may still be annoyed at you and you may be invading his space, and the realization makes you step away quickly, taking his plate from the counter and placing it on the dining table. You open your iPad and go through the presentation he asked you to do, surprised that he’s already added a few things.
“Is the presentation final, Mr. Jeon?” You ask. “I see you’ve already looked through it.”
“Sort of,” he responds. “I woke up at 5 and reviewed it before my workout. Let’s go over them now.”
He looks through his iPad as he eats, going over each slide with you as if he’s practicing. The more he speaks, the more you envision the Arts Center and how he wants it done. The way he puts together the ideas into a coherent design is impressive. You almost see it as he does, and much as you thoroughly dislike him right now, for the sake of all the good things that this center will do for people, you really want him to succeed. 
You remind him of a few more things before he finishes his meal, and it’s not long after when you’re in the car, the silence thickening the tension between the two of you once more. This continues until you reach the office, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the distance between the both of you now. 
While you do feel better, the anxiety remains. You don’t want to mess up. And as you enter his room to give him papers to sign and you see him going through his presentation while the leather notebook he was drawing on earlier lays open on the desk, you find yourself also just not wanting to disappoint him. He clearly works hard and despite his treatment of you, you want things to work out for him. 
It’s an hour later when you’re both walking towards the elevator to head to the conference room on the CEO’s floor. It’s just Jungkook with his father and cousin today where he’ll present the initial plans for their comments and their verbal endorsement of the draft budget. 
It’s a massive project that’s working within strict timelines and Jungkook is adamant on getting this ready by mid-next year. You can tell how much he wants to deliver this well - the board of directors would be his next audience and a boost of confidence would be much needed. 
You make him a cup of coffee the way he likes and sit next to him. The distance allows you to keep your eyes away from him; with the pressure he’s under, you don’t exactly want to be close to where you can easily trigger him. 
CEO Jeon and Hoseok arrive, greeting you with their bright smiles, a reprieve from the stoic looks and tight-lipped and furrowed brows you get from Jungkook everyday.
“Hi, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “A week has passed, huh? How has it been?”
“Challenging,” you say honestly, “but still good. I’m learning new things, Mr. Jeon.”
“That’s good,” he smiles, glancing at his son whose eyes are focused on his laptop. The elder seems unconvinced by your half smile but he nods, turning back to you. “By the way, I heard on the news that the typhoon hit your hometown pretty badly. How’s your mother and her family? Mr. Ri mentioned that there was an incident over the weekend. Is everything okay?”
You’re used to CEO Jeon asking things like this prior to meetings. He believes it’s a way to release certain feelings and not keep them hidden, and while you don’t really want to talk about it right now, you appreciate the concern. 
“She, uh. A large tree fell over our house last Saturday,” you say, to the surprise of both CEO and President. “I had to travel in the morning to help my mom. A portion of the roof was damaged and she had to call a company to fix it. Min-woo and the girls were away and mom didn’t want to deal with the workers since she was alone so I had to stay over the weekend.”
“That’s unfortunate,” the elder Jeon laments. “How is your house now? And your mom?”
“The roof is sealed. But she slipped on some debris and had to be assisted; she was being stubborn about it. She’s okay, though.”
“Ah, it must’ve been a tough few days. And for you, too,” Hoseok says. “I mean, given all the work and then having to be there for her. I’m sorry, ___.  But I’m glad she’s doing better. Tell her I send my regards, okay?”
“I will, thank you.”
Jungkook tries not to look affected as the older men ask you more details about what happened that he, of course, didn’t know about. There’s that guilt over how he treated you yesterday, learning now what you had to do over the weekend. You don’t seem the type to blame any oversight or mistake on something like that, but he would know that the tiredness and preoccupation could definitely affect things. Even more, he’d implied that you don’t work hard and that you’re being a burden to him, which is far from the truth. 
The conversation ends and he’s unable to look at you, as he stands from his seat to begin his presentation. Everything is set up, including a pointer and a marker and a glass of warm water on his side. He proceeds, presenting his design, the materials, the budget, and the timeline. 
You take note of all his answers to the questions and the ideas he comes up with on the spot, with him repeating things and stating how he wants certain points written down. You’re immersed in your own task, feeling like you’ve found your rhythm because you’ve done this so many times but the fear got ahead of you. This morning, it’s as if you’re in your element again, and there’s relief that fills you this time.  
The meeting is moved to a restaurant after the third hour. There’s an event that the CEO suggests that Jungkook’s team organize as a way to build linkages with the arts and culture networks, making sure that the younger Jeon becomes known in those fields as well. 
You have to go by memory as you listen and eat your meal, but the distance from Jungkook remains. You merely nod at his words and avoid looking at him unless you need to. It’s your way of getting over last night, you think. You still have his look of frustration etched in your mind and it’s still a bit fresh; you’d need at least another day before you can look at him normally again. You hope that other than Jungkook himself, no one notices. 
But you suppose you’ve underestimated Hoseok’s ability to pick up on your behavior; it’s one of his strengths as a leader, after all. He’s always been good at reading people, a skill that Jungkook clearly didn’t develop. 
“Hey.”
“Mr. Jung,” you greet, a wave of nostalgia hitting you because his smile is one you used to see everyday, regardless of how stressed he was. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“No, not really. It’s just been over a week but I’m still getting used to the bigger office and the new secretary but I just wanted to check in,” Hoseok says. “You and Jungkook have been very busy, I rarely catch either of you.”
“Well, he wanted to get all the introductions out of the way so he can focus on the Arts Center,” you reply. “There’s a lot happening with that one so he’s in meetings and calls all the time.”
“Ah, of course. It’s a good design and I’m sure it’ll boost the local arts scene. He got inspired during his travels in the Southeast Asia sites and has been talking about it for years. It’s good he has the freedom to work on this now.”
You merely nod, not having much to say about your boss’ passion project that’s just made him angry and frustrated. Quite frankly, you don’t know how he is when he isn’t working on such high-pressure matters, but you can already tell he isn’t someone you’d want to be around in any other context. 
“But how about you? Are you getting enough rest? All these meetings and then traveling home on the weekend is tiring, ___. I hope you’re looking out for your health.”
“I am,” you try to assure him. “I can handle it.”
You smile before shifting your eyes to your desktop screen, not wanting to look at him any longer because a second more and you’d probably burst into tears. Experiencing Hoseok’s kindness for these few minutes has just reminded you of what you constantly miss - that feeling of safety and care, of someone looking out for you and not holding you back. 
“I’m glad you are,” he smiles again, holding your gaze when you glance at him, and Hoseok hopes that in this short moment of calm, he’s able to give comfort that he just knows you need. “Anyway, I just wanted to drop by. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
“I’ll see you, Hoseok.” And as if you knew why he came over in the first place, you add, “and thank you.”
Jungkook sighs in frustration as he watches your fading smile before returning to type away on your desktop. He was about to call you to ask for a project portfolio on the shelf but stopped once he saw you talking to his cousin. You seemed a tad bit lighter than usual; Jungkook could only assume it’s your natural state, even if all he’s seen of you is that of perpetual worry and stress. 
He thinks to himself that a part of that is because of him. Maybe a big part, he admits. He wouldn’t have known about your town in Daegu or that your mother resides there and that you had to go home over the weekend, hence, your oversight yesterday. He’s at least decent enough to acknowledge that he shouldn’t have been so harsh on you in the first place. He’s just not used to things not going his way; he wonders now what the people under him suffered through to make sure of that.
Not wanting to disturb you, he decides to get the portfolio himself, so he exits his room and leans on your desk, his eyebrows scrunched as he reads through the spine labels of the folders. He doesn’t notice you stand up and attempt to ask what he needs but he does find it, reaching over on the third shelf for it. 
“I could’ve gotten that for you,” you huff.
Jungkook spots a small pout as you utter the words, disarming him a little.
“It’s… it’s fine,” he mumbles, willing his mind to go back to what he was thinking about before you said something, which is the other project he wants to look at. 
But you pick up on his words. “Seongbuk, 2021,” you repeat. 
You look up and know exactly where the portfolio for that project is. You drag your stool with your foot and walk up the steps, carefully pulling out the folder and underestimating just how heavy it is. But before it can slip out of your fingers, Jungkook gets a hold of it, his right hand gripping the spine while his left palm supports your back. 
You stiffen when you realize just how close he is to you then step down the stool, somehow nervous to look at him.
“I, uh, sorry. You were about to fall.”
You stiffen again because he didn’t just apologize, did he? Your eyes are glued to the ground and you don’t see Jungkook’s surprised look.
Because he did just that. What felt more alarming than his apology was that it had been a reflex for him to have his hand behind you, his heart leaping a bit because you really were close to falling. An injured version of you isn’t something he wants to deal with, and he convinces himself that it’s because it would look absolutely terrible for his assistant to get hurt on the job, and especially in his presence. 
“Is that all you need, Mr. Jeon?”
“Uh, yes,” he responds. “Be, uh, be careful.”
He takes both folders and heads back to his room, his face buried in the pages as you sneak a glance at him from the window.
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“So, how’s the second week as VP going?” Hoseok asks his cousin from across the table of their favorite Japanese restaurant during their Friday lunch. “Worse than the first?”
Jungkook, not keen on answering truthfully, merely shrugs. 
“Well, I can bet you though that ___ is definitely having it worse than last week.”
“Did she say anything? About me specifically?” Jungkook asks, his curious eyes telling Hoseok that it’s more of concern than anger. 
“Of course not. She’s there to protect you, Kook, not tell on you. Is there something to say? About you specifically?”
Jungkook knows how well his cousin can read people, especially him. They’d grown up together after all, and had gotten close because the older man always stayed next to him, knowing how shy little Jungkook used to be. So he narrates what happened - that he’d gotten angry, that he was being too strict, that he wasn’t leaving you room for adjustment. He’d of course excluded his own oversight and need to establish distance and authority, chalking it up to not having the familiarity and conveniences he’d been used to back in Singapore. 
“I feel like working with father even closer now, it’s like I’m under a microscope,” Jungkook continues. “I don’t wanna mess up. I just don’t wanna give him a reason to criticize or question me.”
“Well, if he learns about how it’s been with ___, he’ll do exactly those things,” Hoseok responds. “He cares about his people, you know? I’m sure that’s the one thing he wants you to do right.”
“Can’t say I’d know. It’s not like he’s any more compassionate than I am. We’re talking about a man who yells at the managers who can’t get things done right.”
“They were abusing their power, that’s why,” Hoseok explains. “And I’m not here to defend the man - I’ve been on the receiving end of his anger twice and saw how he’d push people to their near breaking point a few times but he’s not a terrible person. I’ve seen him be understanding and caring to his staff way more; you just haven’t been around that much.”
“It’s not what I saw growing up.”
“Well, we remember what we want, and forget the parts that don’t make sense to us.”
Jungkook stays silent as he munches on his steak.
“He wants to get closer to you, you know?” Hoseok continues. “He hopes that with you being around, he can mentor you, learn from you. All those years that you were home, you felt so far away from him, farther away than Jeong-sik who wasn’t even here, and he doesn’t know why.”
“He can’t expect to be a rich, ambitious businessman and be close to his son,” Jungkook huffs. “All he ever cared about when I was growing up was work. Sure, he had rare good moments, but we all know it was to compensate for always being too busy. He pressured me to do well at school then missed awarding ceremonies. He scheduled some family time then left me and my brother in some cabin in the woods by ourselves. He wants to work with me here then disallows my requests. What does he want from me?”
“Your time, I suppose. Maybe your understanding, too.”
“Did he give those to me when I was younger? He had so many chances these past 30 years and he wants those now?”
“People are complicated, Kook. Sometimes they lose sight of what’s important, of what’s in front of them… doesn’t mean they’re bad people,” Hoseok says. “And it doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a second chance. I mean, don’t we all want that? Don’t we all grow out of our bad habits and just yearn for something good?”
“Not everyone does that.”
“Maybe not, but your father has. And he just wants another chance. And whether or not it was her fault, I’m sure ___ wants that, too.”
“Did you really ask me to treat you to lunch only to advocate for the people I don’t really care much about?” Jungkook laughs bitterly. 
“No,” Hoseok chuckles. “I really wanted to try it here. But also, uncle took me out to drinks before you arrived and was all honest with me, which was a little weird but I guess he thought he could get some perspective from you through me. And ___ was my assistant and I think highly of her. It’s upsetting how things started for you both. I guess I just feel kind of caught in the middle between you and the people you actually care about. So yes, I deserve this free lunch.”
Jungkook doesn’t correct his cousin, more for the fact that Hoseok really does get caught in the middle - always has, even between him and his older brother whom Jungkook never really got along with; it definitely isn’t because he acknowledges that he cares about you. There’s no reason for him to feel that; you’re just his assistant, after all. 
Being beautiful and capable and hardworking doesn’t have anything to do with being cared about. 
“I… I admit being too hard on ___. I get that she’s good and stuff but maybe that fits with your leadership style more,” Jungkook tries to reason. “Maybe she just thrives in a team where she’s led by someone like you, someone who’s good with people and who’s process-oriented and I don’t know, someone who isn’t as tough or meticulous like me.���
“I’m sorry, Kook, but you sound stupid. You clearly don’t know anything about her. She’s experienced all the lows - the disrespect from the men, the abuse of power from the women, all the long hours and ridiculous deadlines, the loudest of yells and the craziest demands,” Hoseok exclaims. “She’s been here for just eight years but it feels more. Sometimes I don’t know why she stayed but I’m glad she did, selfishly, and that’s because she helped me so much. Are you… are you giving her reasons to leave so you can have Lucas with you?”
“No,” Jungkook dismisses the thought, although he does admit it entered his mind before he even started. “I’m just… not used to her. And the mishaps didn’t help. I just wanna be able to do my job and do it right.”
“And you will, if you just loosen up a bit and give her a chance to show you that she can help you. It’s just that I’m not seeing that same joy and energy in her eyes and her smile,” Hoseok explains. “I was thinking last Wednesday that maybe it was because of her mom but during the meeting this morning, it was the same. I’d hate to think that’s because of you. Because if it is and she’s thinking of resigning, I won’t stop her. I might even suggest it to her. “
The thought of you being gone causes a lump in Jungkook’s throat. It’s selfish, really, because despite how he treats you, he still wants you here. It’s just as silly, and stupid, and something he doesn’t have a clear reason for. But other than his cousin not trusting that he could treat you fairly, it’s the possibility that you might just quit yourself, something you seem to be capable and willing to do. And that voluntary departure is something he doesn’t want to deal with. Once you leave, you’ll just be gone; he won’t have a reason to seek you. 
“I’ll do better,” Jungkook finally says. “I’ll stop being such a pain in the ass and be… kinder, I guess.”
“She’ll probably see right through you if you fake it,” Hoseok laughs. “Just be fair. Trust me, that’s what she’d want, too. Correct her if you need to, but do it constructively. And please, try to smile every once in a while. It won’t hurt you. Nor would it ruin whatever tough guy image you have.”
Jungkook playfully rolls his eyes but he lets out a chuckle. His cousin won’t ever let go of the fact that 18-year old Jungkook had his first tattoo because he wanted to look tough. 
“I still have to establish authority, Hoseok. I can’t do it like you do.”
“Well, you’re missing out. Smiling always makes you feel a hundred times better.”
“She’ll probably see right through me if I fake it,” Jungkook repeats his cousin’s words almost mockingly. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows I’m not… cheerful. It’s like, how I’m compared to you.”
The two start walking back and Hoseok takes a jab at the younger man. “Actually, I heard that I’m the handsome one, too, and the stable guy, the family man, the man you’d take home to meet your parents…”
Jungkook laughs along. He agrees, and while it was not Hoseok’s intention at all, it does make Jungkook wonder even hours later - given all the things that characterize him, which are nothing like the older man’s - who would want him? Who would even take a chance on him? Who would even think it’s worth it to be with him?
Chaerin did, and then he self-sabotaged and lost her. Maybe the women he meets at clubs and takes home, but then all they want is a good time anyway, just like him. Maybe it’s someone he’s never met, but he also doesn't know how to be someone that someone else would love. 
Maybe there isn’t any. And maybe that isn’t so bad. Perhaps he’d have to start getting used to that fact; it’s easier than realizing he’s not meant to be with someone after all. 
He pauses the thought and decides that’s for the weekend version of him to lament over. This Friday afternoon, he’s focused on firming up the project details with the design and logistics teams. He’d just finished his meeting with them, with you barely looking his way just like you’ve done throughout the week - which he can’t fault you for because he was doing the same - and he’s back in his room to coordinate with other units. 
You, on the other hand, seem to be fixated on the quarterly reports that you’ll be handing over to him. It’s past 5 and he knows you’ll be staying up late again, given that he’d ordered you at the start of the week to finish the reviews by Friday. He’s given you too much to do, and after everything he’s done, letting you off early is a way for him to apologize without actually apologizing. 
He picks up the phone and calls you.
“How many reports do you have left to review?” He asks.
“Three more, Mr. Jeon,” you answer. “I’ll finish them tonight, please just give me another hour and a half.”
“Are you going home to see your mother tomorrow?” 
“Uh, yes, sir. I leave in the morning,” you say, curious at the question that you never thought he’d ask.
“You should clock out now, then.”
“Oh, but the reports, sir. I—”
“It’s okay,” he says, surprising you. “I’ll be busy with Arts Center details this weekend so I won’t have time to sign off on the reports anyway so you can continue them on Monday.”
You’re too shocked to speak that it doesn’t register that you’re indeed not saying anything.
“Ms. Cho?” Jungkook repeats your name.
“Oh, uh, yes, as long as it’s okay, Mr. Jeon.”
“Yes, that’s what I just said.”
“That’s, uh, thank you,” you mumble, turning on your roller chair to retrieve your bag and start packing, only to look up and see through the window that Jungkook can see you right now, smiling like a giddy child. There’s this movie that’ll show on your favorite local channel and you’re glad that you’ll be able to catch it tonight. 
You’re unsure what Jungkook’s eaten to be dismissing you this early. Maybe it was the lunch he had with Hoseok earlier; maybe it was the older man knocking some sense into him. You don’t have the energy to think about it, given that you now also have time to cook yourself proper dinner and enjoy eating it while watching and curling under your comfy blanket on your tiny couch, just like how you used to enjoy your Fridays. 
You’ll deal with the unreviewed reports and Jungkook returning to his normal, grumpy self on Monday. Tonight is all about you, and the weekend version of you is about being with your mother, her partner, and your stepsisters. There’s nothing like being with the people who make you feel safe; you’ll deal with the stress when a new week rolls by.
Jungkook watches you excitedly leave your desk. He can’t imagine the relief you’re feeling of being relieved this early and then spending your Friday evening the way you want, however that is. He lets himself wonder for a bit how you would spend time by yourself. Yoongi did say your friends aren’t in Seoul and your family obviously isn’t.
But then again, maybe you do have a partner, and maybe that’s why you looked as happy as you did. He’s not quite sure what to do with the slight distress at the thought, but with the absurdity of the amount of times he thinks about you, he decides it shouldn’t matter anyway. 
He has his own plans, too, like watching sports over bottles of beer that night, and then playing video games the next day before going to a bar with Seokjin and Taehyung. 
That Sunday, he works all morning then works out in the afternoon. In the evening, he decides to meet his friends again. 
Entering the club, he spots the table where they are - Seokjin has his arm around a woman and his lips glued to her ear; he pulls her closer as she laughs at his words. Taehyung has one next to him, too; they’re engaged in some serious conversation, it seems, given how passionately they’re talking to each other. That is, until his hand slides inside her dress; maybe it wasn’t that deep. 
Jungkook doesn’t know how his friends can converse with the women they find in these places. Given, Seokjin tends to stick to the same one for months and Taehyung is just naturally flirty and friendly so maybe it’s not that hard. 
For Jungkook, it’s just not something he’s able to fully or even properly do. What does he say? He’d brag about his work and his lifestyle if he was the type, but he isn’t, and there’s nothing else about him that he’d like to share. He’s always straightforward when it comes to these things. He’s picky; he does have a type, after all, but he always knows what they want and so do they. 
So when he spots a woman by the bar - the one who’d bought him a drink last night - he just smirks as she takes her shot and bites her lips when she catches him looking. 
“Hey, I finally caught you sober,” she giggles in his ears after she meets him halfway. 
“And I finally caught you without a man next to you,” he whispers. “Should I be worried?”
“Nah, he was just my plaything last night,” she responds. “I could be yours.”
Jungkook chuckles, enjoying her bluntness. He takes her hand and waves at his friends; they already know he’s taking off and they won’t hear from him for the rest of the night. 
It’s the way most of his evenings go anyway, whether he’s here or in Singapore or elsewhere, really. 
Jungkook likes the thrill, he likes the shallow intimacy he gets from the feelings of ecstasy and carnal desire. He likes that he doesn’t have to share anything about himself apart from his name so they could scream it, likes that there’s nothing about the other person to uncover, and that there’s nothing about himself he has to be honest about. He likes that he’ll remember the pleasure until the next day but nothing else - not her breathing, not her gentle touches on his chest, not her soft whispers of his name. 
There’s nothing much about her he’ll care for other than that she had a good time. And there’s nothing about tonight he’ll regret, except not making sure that she left his apartment like he always asks them to do.
Because it’s Monday morning, and there’s that woman wearing his coat and nothing else. 
And then there’s you, dressed in your skirt and blouse in his living room, with a look of shock on your pretty face. 
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moonieandi · 4 months ago
Text
snapshots pt. 4 | stanley pines x f!reader 
summary: you and stanley unknowingly go on a date 
warnings (TW): swearing, illusions of past abuse, alcohol consumption
tags: fluff, early relationship described, pining, slight angst, affection
notes: thank you all for the engagement! hope you enjoy <3
edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked an up to date masterlist of all the parts of this continuing series- hope you enjoy <3
word count: 3.9k
| masterlist | part v |
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He had somehow managed to drag her out of the basement that day. 
Of course, he had been down there assisting her in any way he could. A high school dropout only knows so much about mechanical engineering and quantum physics. Still, she seemed happy enough to dance around the chalkboard she (he) had dragged downstairs, bouncing off ideas with him contently listening, trying to piece back together complex wiring to get the ominous inverted triangle on the basement wall to whirl back to life. 
She was even more spurred on when he actually engaged, not that he raised his hand like he was back in class (not that he ever remembered doing so when he was in class). She simply seemed grateful that he was attempting to learn anything to help her. To learn how to move this whole fucking thing along. 
She dragged him to the basement quite often now that the shack was half shut down for the winter. He had managed to see a few rounds of locals and tourists through the Murder Hut from early October until Thanksgiving when snow began to fall. Then tourists dried up, and only the locals frequented now, so Stan reduced his hours and gave some more of his time to helping her downstairs during the day. 
Every night was spent downstairs in the basement though, there hadn’t come a day since she stepped through that front door that they both didn’t wander down to the portal. Of course, this was usually then followed by convening upstairs in front of the T.V., Stanford’s journal passed between the two of them.
She had grown more frustrated as of late, raving about alien material and compatibility with human electronics. He did his best to understand, and he followed along very aptly. Always wanting to be an attentive sounding board, and even bouncing his own, albeit stupid, ideas. 
Not that she ever made any indication of them being stupid, and not that she would ever stop him from voicing them. 
Educationally, he felt it was the closest he’d ever gotten to an actual education. Said education being advanced quantum mechanics, but everyone had to start somewhere. 
But now they were out for dinner because, after yesterday’s long night of pacing and chalkboard rants, he thought they deserved to go out on the meager earnings of yesterday’s Murder Hut tour.
That and it had been exactly a year since he first laid eyes on her. Not that he was gonna tell her that. 
He could acknowledge that she may have noticed the amount of time that had past, hence her growing irritation with the lack of progress in getting Stanford back, and her growing hours spent in the dark of the basement. But she more than likely didn’t know of the significance of the exact date, or care, which he figured may be more likely. Especially with the anniversary of Ford’s disappearance having come and gone.
December had been hard for the both of them really, and some things had settled somewhat awkwardly between them from the previous week. 
They both handled the anniversary slightly differently, her with general avoidance, head somehow buried deeper in that god-forsaken journal. He found some semblance of self-soothing in diving head first into holding a conversation with any customer that walked through the front door of the Murder Hut that day. 
Sitting across from each other at the dinner table was hard that night, and for the first time ever, she poured copious amounts of wine into their mugs on a weeknight. The kitchen had been eerily quiet that night, the silence only broken by scrapes of plates and mumbled conversation.
He remembers being disgusted with his hands that evening. Remembers thinking about how he had shoved his brother away that day, how Ford had stumbled from one end of the room into the other just to disappear before his eyes. How his hands had reached for Stanford, calling for him. How the journal made its way back to his hands, but his brother hadn’t. His hand had been constantly grazing his shoulder that day, running along the raised scar, a sickening feeling sinking further into him throughout the day.
They had both shuffled around each other that night, and she had not said so much as good morning and goodnight in her mounting grief, it felt like. She had felt bad about how she handled that day but had felt even worse about failing Stan and Ford. She knew of the hope in Stan’s eyes that day when she had trampled in through the door of the shack, knew the relief he felt in her knowledge and presence. But a year had passed, and she could feel nothing but shame when she looked at him. She saw both twins that night while looking over at his hunched figure across the dinner table. She had said goodnight to Stan and Ford that night and had wandered upstairs wondering if she could wash the image from her eyes in the bathroom sink.
They had both returned to normal by Thursday but had grown more determined than ever before. So yeah, Stan figured a night out may be deserved. 
She seemed happier now, sitting crisscross from him in the Greasy’s diner booth, elbows on the table as she reached over to draw along the corners of his paper placemat with the crayons she had swiped from some kid on the way in. 
Something that made him chuckle for a little too long. He must be a bad influence. He had sticky fingers and she knew it. It now seemed to be a competition between the two of them, who could steal the most random of objects. 
Her hand was out, shielding the drawing on his placemat as she switched between the meager 4 colors the shitty diner crayon pack supplied. He nudged her hand aside as she giggled. 
“No! My masterpiece! Give me a second you grump.” 
“It better be good, Picasso, you’re hoggin all the crayons.” 
She handed over the red one, and he elected to reach across to her own paper placemat, beginning to draw his usual comic-book-style figures. One of the figures, oddly enough, began to look like her. 
Her face was so close to her drawing she might as well have been kissing the table, when she shot up, smiling at Stan and looking for approval. 
“Ta-Da!” She moved her hand, showing a mish-mash of red, blue, green, and purple. 
He stared contemplatively, sitting back in his seat humming. In truth, he had no idea what he was looking at, but he would entertain giving an “expert” review. 
“Hmmmmm, now the color selection may be controversial to some but I think the blue and the purple over here are just lovely. Truly an emotional piece mhm.” He nodded his head, pointing at the corner of colors. 
“You have no idea what it is, do ya?”
“Not a clue Doc.” 
She laughed, pointing to the blue and purple figures. “Okay so these are two llamas and they are totally in love. You can tell by the cool rainbow and shooting star I put by them.” She pointed at what he figured was the “rainbow and shooting star” between said “llamas”. 
“And they are here in Gravity Falls because I drew a bunch of pine trees behind them!” She pointed to what he supposed was the foreground and the mess of green sprigs she had tried to draw. 
He hummed again. “Very moving, very touching Doc.” He moved to wipe a fake tear, sniffling along with his act. 
“I ain't much of an artist, am I Stan?” She laughed, finding humor in her lack of skill. 
He gasped, fake clutching his pearls, an even faker mean expression on his face. “Don’t say that Doc! This is a masterpiece!” 
She smirked. “Okay, then that will be 50 bucks for said masterpiece, pay up!” Hand held out to him she made to grab his placemat. 
“Pretty steep price there kid, don’t get ahead of yourself now.” He conceded. 
She smiled again. “I knew you thought it was shit.” Shaking her head at him she moved to look at his own drawing. “Now what's this?” 
He smacked his hand palm side down on the corner image, a blush on his face. “Nothin’!” 
She nudged his hand now, trying to lift his hand finger by finger. “No! I had to show you mine now fess up! What ya drawing?” 
His hand clenched the corner of the paper placemat, ripping the picture of her from the corner of it and crumpling it up into his hand. 
“Nope!” 
“Yup!” She had risen up with her hands on the table, reaching for the corner paper now clutched above him in his fist. “Lemme see! Don’t do this Stan!” She giggled the entire time.
He panicked at her determination, fisting the paper into his mouth. 
“Gross Stan!” She laughed. “What the fuck!” 
He swallowed the paper, not thinking much of it. Saving himself the embarrassment of having to explain himself. He smiled across from her though, as she cracked up at his over exaggeration. 
She looked just right, under the shitty diner lights. Car headlights flashing as they went by from time to time, he began to wonder how long she would stay. If she would linger around, once Ford had returned. Wondered what it was that note said, that she brought in with her that very first day she burst through their front door. She had put it away after that day, and he never really did get to see his brother’s usual cursive gracing the paper. What was it he had said, to get her of all people out here?
She was too good to linger, he figured, and Gravity Falls felt far too small for someone like her anyway. Even if the unknown waited past their doorstep, they both hadn’t made the move to wander into the woods in search of the creatures Ford had spoken about. Something they had both voiced before over dinner, their shared hesitation to walk too far from their doorstep. If it was just himself he reasoned he would have wandered into the woods looking for signs his brother had been there, he wasn’t fearful of the unknown, he had done plenty of other things that were far scarier than what waited in their backyard. But she was here, and he felt some semblance of duty to watch her back in particular. So they had made a pact to not wander off too far from the other, and they had stuck to that deal even when coming into town. 
The townsfolk hadn’t seen Stan without her by his side since he trampled into the gas station in search of food that very first week. Surprisingly, not too many townsfolk approached her at all when they were out. If it was because he tended to glare at unknown men, she didn’t comment.  
“Order up!” 
Susan made her way back over to their booth, her hands full with two separate plates of short-stacks. 
“For you Mr. Pines.” Settling one plate in front of Stan, Susan moved to place the other in front of her. “And the other for you Mrs. Pines!” 
Brain short-circuiting, he freezes in his motion to grab his fork for his meal. His mouth began to move to correct Susan. 
“Thanks!” She said across from him, a panicked look in her eyes. Face creeping up into a flush as she thanked the waitress. 
Susan made her way away from the table after exchanging common pleasantries, all the while he sat in suspense. 
Only after he could swear Susan was out of earshot did he lean into the table, chest close to his plate to whisper across at her. 
“What the fuck was that?” 
She looked beyond guilty, ringing her table napkin in her hands as her eyes flickered to every corner of the diner that didn’t contain him. 
“I-I may have… accidentally… at some point, perhaps…” She sighs, knowing the drive home will be silent, absent of the usual radio. At least it would be if they couldn’t make it through the mistake she had made all those months ago. “Accidentally, sorta, maybe, kinda, let Susan think that we were married?” Her voice rising in octave, her hands running along the rim of the diner table now. 
He sits back, disbelief struck him. How the fuck had she managed that? 
She answers his question unknowingly. “Okay, so for your birthday in June, remember how I begged you to come to town?” A nod. “Well, you know how I snuck off to Greasy's to get you some birthday pie?” Another nod, remembering how she had been so happy to have correctly guessed his favorite kind that night. He hadn’t even chastised her about the money she had spent on him. 
She continues, hands now flying around, trying to flick the memory away. “Okay well, when I got the pie from Susan she had called my order and she called me Mrs. Pines. And I just…. froze up… and I didn’t know how to explain- well everything.” Her voice picks up speed. “I’m not good at lying, like I can do it, but she just caught me off guard. And we hadn’t discussed what we were gonna tell people- like what we were gonna tell people about us living together? And I thought of Ford and all that bullshit-“ she slumps further into the booth seat. 
“And well, ya I just…I just didn’t correct her.” 
Staring at him, expectantly now. Perhaps waiting for him to explode on her. But all he can manage to do is unravel his fork from his napkin and dig into his pancakes to finally take a bite. Chewing around it, he finally can ask something. He’s less likely to yell with his mouth full. 
But the question dies on his lips. He feels more confused by the second, and then more frustrated also. The silence she figured would follow in the car seems to have raced ahead and sits between them at the table now. Her appetite diminishes by the second, and she no longer waits for some sign from Stan, some indication of acceptance. She didn’t figure there would be, she knew she had fucked up. Or at least, fucked up by not telling him about all this sooner, but she had more or less forgotten in between work and well… enjoying living alongside him. But perhaps the arrangement she had unknowingly shoved him into wasn’t something he was comfortable with, which was understandable. She hadn’t ever really believed herself marriage material, and more or less figured she was even less so in Stan’s eyes. 
He knew she wasn’t the best liar, their old conversation concerning his name had rushed back to him. He hadn’t wanted there to be any lies between them, because he knew it would be difficult for her to upkeep them on top of everything else. That and he believed that their arrangement and reliance on one another wouldn’t work in the slightest if they were just spilling bold-faced lies back and forth to each other. But this arrangement she had stumbled headfirst into came as a surprise. Perhaps they should have rehearsed something to say to everyone who asked about them, but then again Susan didn’t really ask, she had just assumed that they were together, were married. He understood her stumbling into something like that, but he was struggling to find a way back out of it. Because he couldn’t allow her to live attached to him like this, didn’t want her to have to lie for their own comfort. 
A lingering worry in the back of his mind, concerning his past. What if it all came rushing back? What if someone was out there looking for him? What if they hurt her?
He was far past frustrated, not at her though. At all the scrapping and clawing he had to do just to get here, to wind back up in the comfort of lies to survive. But he didn’t want her scraping by with him through this, he wanted her to live. At least before today, he believed she could leave him behind if it all fell apart under him. Always an escape plan somewhere in the back of his head, a way out, a door to reach in the dead of night. But she had shut it, and he didn’t know how he was gonna get her out of it now. 
They finished dinner in silence, something that also rubbed him the wrong way. He was frustrated, and taking it out on her. She folded into an odd shape across from him, now looking dim in the diner light. It only served to frustrate him more. 
Susan didn’t comment or come by to further disturb them through dinner, which was odd for the waitress. She liked to talk, and Stan knew that the south half of town would know about their silent dinner by Friday night. 
Bill paid, they made their way back to Stan’s car. His coat caught up in her arms, he opened her door and shut it again after she entered the car without so much as a prompt. 
He didn’t voice a single word until he made it to his seat, he had been too wound up concerning what she had said. That and he hadn’t wanted anyone else to hear their conversation. To know about the lie she had sown, tying them unknowingly together. 
“So you’re tellin’ me that this town has thought that we’ve been a couple, no married, for about six months?” His hands tight against the steering wheel. 
“Well no, because it was just Susan. Like, maybe just a few people know?” She reasoned.
He shakes his head, chuckling. That’s not how small towns like Gravity Falls worked. “Nah, she told everyone. People in this town are nosey Doc. Everyone’s gotta know by now.” 
He adjusts himself in his seat again, reaching his hand out to the back of her seat, like he always does. She’s swallowed by his red coat, her hand meticulously passing the patch he had put across his right shoulder. Humming to fill the silence. He sighs. 
“This is gonna be hard, Doc. I get why ya shrugged off the assumption Susan made, really I do, but that doesn’t change the fact ya didn’t tell me.” His hand rubs his eyes, frustration seeping off of him. How the fuck was he gonna pull this off?
“What do you mean?” She interrupts. “It won’t be that hard Stan, we can manage this, it won’t be too hard.” She shakes her head, trying to smooth over his frustration.
“How am I supposed to convince this whole fucking town you married some sorry-sap like me doll?” He points between them, an intensity to his eyes. “Now this will be the hardest con. Because why the fuck would you have married me, huh?” He shrugs, throwing his hands up. 
Looking over his scarred shoulder, feeling regret seep through his bones when he sees her now. Sitting there, his winter coat hung off her shoulders, a look of disbelief on her face. An apology on her tongue, he could almost hear it now. 
“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “What’d I tell ya Doc, don’t apologize to me.” He turns back to face her now, still shaking his head. 
“No.” Anger blooming on her face. “No, why the fuck would you say that Stan. Why the fuck would you even think that.” 
She was fuming, a look crossing her face he had never seen before. He had never seen her this thrown before, and he hadn’t the smallest inkling as to why her anger grew tenfold in the face of his statement. 
“Because I ain’t no good and you damn well know it!” Voice raising, hackles rising. 
“No!” She shakes her head, fingers fisted into his coat sleeves. “You are good, Stan! I don’t wanna hear that utter bullshit from you, don’t say that to me. I don’t believe it, not for a second.” Shaking her head, refusing to leave his gaze. "You're kind to me, you're considerate to me. You're good to me." She reasoned. But he was only ever really good to her if anything. Only kind in the face of her everything.
He thinks of his parents then, their image mirroring their own, but only for a moment. Arguments in front seats of cars and in front of televisions. How they would bend and snap back to each other, how he figured his father would snap and his mother would lie, to soothe him. She would lie, to see the end of the argument, to soothe frustration and heal hurt. But he figured it had more to do with his father's temper more than anything, more to do with raised voices and raised fists. But she was a terrible liar, his Doc, and he would swear to be less of a terrible grump.
He slumps in his seat, turning glassy eyes ahead of him. 
“I just didn’t want you to have to lie for me, hun.” He hadn’t called her that in weeks, a flickering memory of that dream always made him flush at the enderment. But he enjoyed how she melted when he did call her that, so he’d concede his embarrassment for her. 
“Stan, we can do this.” She slides closer, into the middle spot of the long bench, reaching her hand to his chin and pulling him into an earnest gaze. “Stan we can do anything, we will do anything, to get your brother home. And if it means lying like this then I'm prepared to do it.” She chuckles, humourlessly. “Especially because I’m the one who got us into this mess.” 
She’s beautiful, he thinks, this close. Diner light seeping in through the dashboard window, her eyes looking deeper than he'd ever been allowed to notice. She's even more beautiful, as she giggles across from him, slipping a stolen diner spoon into his hand. Slipping her fingers around the stolen object and his fingers. He chuckles finally, he's a terrible influence. His heart settled into that familiar aching sickness, something he doesn't dismiss as much now. Now that it felt as familiar as her. There was a certain comfort he fell into when it came to the feeling and her now, one that made his heart race.
It wasn’t a mess though, what she had done, but it did solidify what he had to do next. 
He had been thinking about it for a while, thinking about what sitting in one spot would bring to his, their, doorstep. Thought of the crimes he had left behind, skipping from state to state. It's what had kept him up late at night during those early summer months. What had made him linger around the door late some of those nights also, what if it all caught up to him? Would she be safe? 
No, he figured now. Now that she had intrinsically tied herself to him, she was safest next to him. That she hadn't shut any door, that there was a way out, but only for the old him. So she wouldn’t be leaving, but that old part of him would have to. Protect her, them.
He sighs, ready for the conversation they would have to have. He would have to be more honest about himself, he warmed, kinda like her. But really only with her. 
“There's something I gotta do then, hun.” He shuffles, leaning into her warm palm along his cheek. “I gotta die.”
She pales next to him. 
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kedsandtubesocks · 6 months ago
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game changer
MLB pitcher!Joel Miller x F!Reader
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summary: back from your first semester of grad school your parents lovingly drag you out to celebrate with an old family friend - but what unfolds there (and after) cracks you wide open
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, dad’s friend!Joel, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is in his early 50’s), light use of gendered language, yearning & flirting, some light angst, brief alcohol consumption, masturbation (f), smutty thoughts, heavy makeout, spicy themes, allusions to smut (p in v), Joel’s dirty talk, one use of “good girl,” one light ass smack, reserved but soft!Joel, start of secret relationship, lots of baseball talk
word count: 9.1k (I’m sorry)
a/n: i know, i know another non-typical AU for Joel but I blame my sports girlie heart & baseball season so here we are lol big thank you to @swiftispunk for always putting up with my sports ramblings LMAO im so sorry Han ily, special thanks to @burntheedges @undercoverpena @tightjeansjavi @msjarvis because this truly wouldn’t be here without y’all - you don’t know how much you babes mean to me & I can’t thank y’all enough…now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡
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You barely have any solid memories of Joel Miller, even if he was your dad’s oldest friend. And if you were being honest, you remember his brother Tommy more who smiled so warmly and seemed to radiate warmth.
Now you stand before Joel Miller’s face on the side of the Globe Life field along with the rest of the Texas Rangers professional baseball team.
It’s a cool evening in Arlington. Everyone seems to bask in the weather that feels perfect for a night of baseball.
Home from your first grad school semester, you didn’t think you’d be going to a game. But your parents explained how good the tickets were, and that even if you didn’t care about the game, you could just enjoy the stadium. So with the promise of free food and a nice night out, you were sold.
Now you’re here.
“Yesterday Joel said to head to the side entrance, that’s where we can check in.” Your dad eagerly explains and stunned you simply follow along like a confused duckling.
The sea of jerseys sweeps you into a sports wave until you’re deposited in a new space. Your jaw almost drops.
The VIP suites sit at the very side edge of the field, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.
The seats are incredible. Everything feels deluxe but comfortable. Someone calls out to your mom, and soon enough the rest of the Miller family approaches.
Tommy’s married now and his wife Maria is lovely, so is their baby. Joel’s daughters, Sarah and Ellie, are older. Time sucker punches you in the gut seeing how much time has passed, but you warmly greet everyone. You realize how long it really has been since you saw any of them.
You greet everyone warmly and appreciate all their surprised welcome seeing you back.
“Joel’s glad y’all were finally able to make it. Been talking about it since yesterday.” Tommy explains.
“Yeah us too! Just worked out that we all could come out and enjoy this with someone back home now.” You mom teases, but it’s warm.
Even though you were cities away, the new workload just kept you so busy.
You’re grateful to be here too. Even though your mind still swirls trying to grasp all of this.
You knew your dad’s friend made it big as a professional baseball player. Joel and his family left Austin to move to Arlington after he signed for the Rangers. So you rarely saw them. But with your mom’s job recently relocating here, your dad talked non stop about maybe seeing more of the games. It never really clicked that your family knew a professional sports athlete. Plus you never cared too much for sports to even look more into it.
Now as the game starts with a wild explosive and electric opening, you feel like you’ve slipped into another reality.
Then Joel’s entrance arrives, and your heart jumps out of your chest. The stadium erupts in a wild frenzy. The music for his arrival is western themed, grand and epic.
“All of this is because the league calls him Cowboy Miller.” Your dad explains.
The nickname was given to him not just because of his very southern twang, but Joel’s cold demeanor on the mound along with his wild style of pitching. All this led to him being deemed a Cowboy.
You understand why.
A serious air of power radiates from Joel while he approaches the mound.
Wearing a jersey with the number two on it, he’s older, more distinguished than the last time you remember him. Grays pepper his beard and the shadow of his baseball cap highlights the wrinkles flowing across his face.
He’s handsome, utterly gorgeous. His shoulders look broad, pure striking mountains, in his white jersey.
It’s like your mind finally registers and settles into the reality he’s a man, a full grown and incredible man.
And he really is incredible.
Even though he’s older for a pitcher, he still possesses dazzling talent. You even clap loudly when he strikes one of the batters out.
Your eyes never leave him. Joel sternly staring down the batter is terrifying. His legs look strong as he whips the ball fast to the home plate. Your eyes can’t help but flicker to his ass when he walks back to the dugout.
He’s gorgeous.
But cold reality crashes into you when your dad brightly yells. Joel is your dad’s friend, and that thought sours the bubbling feelings in your chest.
So you try focusing on the game, which actually turns out to be rather fun. The vibe of the stadium, along with the atmosphere of the game itself, is easy to melt into.
At one point someone gets a hit off Joel and he has to run to cover first. He’s surprisingly fast. Seeing him catch the ball, get the out, is so impressive and hot as fuck.
After that the Rangers switch pitchers.
As he leaves the mound, the stadium cheers at Joel’s exit. Very politely he nods, raising his hand in a quick goodbye to everyone. Then he scans the crowd.
It’s admirable seeing how he instantly finds where his family is. Joel’s roughed face melts soft with a small crooked grin hearing the applause they give him. He even spots your dad proudly cheering.
Joel’s eyes then lock with yours. Still walking towards the dugout, his face stays on you while his focus narrows in a cloudy confusion like he’s trying to recognize you.
Then his eyes go wide as realization sinks in.
You weakly grin back. It’s all you can do before Joel is fully gone from your line sight. Your heart thumps erratically within its cage.
The Rangers unfortunately lose by three. Once the game ends, you decide to swing by the merch store.
“Guess the game made you a fan huh?” You mom perks up noticing you eyeing the jerseys.
You shrug easily with an eased grin.
After this the Rangers have a five game stretch at home.
You only know because after the game you check for all things about the team, about Joel. You haven’t brought yourself to look at any videos of Joel yet. But you did discover from the team's instagram that he has one too.
Early the next morning, still lounging in bed, you scroll through Joel’s instagram page. It seems very professional, like it’s run by a social media manager primarily using it to promote Joel without being too personal.
You’re not paying attention, still a bit too focused on your phone, when a knock comes at the door.
Your face scrunches up confused. Then terror sucker punches you when you see who’s at the door.
No way.
Opening the door Joel stares at you, but this time wearing striking thick black rimmed glasses. They make him incredibly distinguished. Instead of seeming like a professional baseball player you’re reminded of a studious professor. And without a baseball cap on, you’re given sight of his soft glorious curls and the light gray streaks dancing among them.
He’s knockout beautiful.
Of course, you’re still in your mismatched lounge clothes and barely look like you’ve left bed.
He says your name, greeting you with a curt nod. You swiftly greet him with an awkward hello.
“Are you going for like a Clark Kent thing?” You blurt before you can stop yourself.
Joel’s face scrunches up as he sighs.
“Gotta take a break from my contacts s’all.” He admits with a grumpy reply.
But it’s his thick twang, the familiar southern accent - that sweeps you breathless.
“How do they even let you pitch?” You lightly tease, and
Joel rolls his eyes.
“Good to see ya too.” He rumbles, finally greeting you.
Now realizing he’s still standing in your doorway, you let him in.
Joel explains how he wanted to come by, visit your folks, catch up, and thank them for getting to stop by.
You’re the one early thanking him.
“The tickets were incredible. And you did amazing the other night.” You add sincerely.
“Oh, yeah thanks. Glad we won.” Joel nods.
“So they let you just roam around?” You ask slightly stunned still seeing him here in your family kitchen.
Joel scoffs. “Ain’t gotta be at the stadium till later.”
“So, was uh…surprised to see ya at the game.” His tone now reeks of trying to just make small talk.
Weakly you grin back explaining it was a nice change from your days on campus.
“So…back from school, huh.” That awkward thick small talk tone of his gets worse especially as he asks how’s it going and what you’re doing.
For being a talented professional pitcher, right now he simply seems like just some guy…
Just your dad’s pal.
The thought brings a strange acidic taste in your mouth.
You explain school is going good and how you’re here just visiting until the next semester starts up again.
Politely he asks what you’re going to school for. You tell him about your program, explaining all the classes you’re taking and even about the undergrad classes you help TA for.
Joel nods, quiet. You wonder if this sounds boring to a man who professionally plays baseball everyday.
“You’re damn smart.” He then whistles low, and his compliment jumpstarts your heart.
“Haven’t read a book since… shit can’t even remember when.” Joel muses.
“What? They don’t have you take baseball quizzes for pitching?” You joke, but it falls flat. Joel just gives you a dull look.
However his lips twitch faintly, like he’s fighting a grin, and it makes you grin.
“Though, I’ve heard you could maybe work on your slider pitch.” You add.
From the clips you’ve seen and the comments you’ve read, that's the one thing others have commented on, along with how unbearably handsome he is. ESPN even named him one of sports top most eligible bachelors.
“Oh?” Joel’s eyebrows rise up fast. Crossing his hands over his chest, Joel turns towards you more.
“Suddenly you’re a sports analyst now, huh?” The way his voice perks up confidently, matching your edge of playfulness, causes something to get stuck in your throat.
“Y’gonna start telling me how to pitch too? Just like your old man used to.” Joel adds still with that same tone and even chuckles.
But his words slice through you. Swallowing hard, you steel yourself tight.
Thankfully the sound of the front door unlocking arrives. Your parents are home.
“You’re fantastic, Joel. Glad I got to see it live.” You tell him earnestly looking him straight in the eye, as if to stare him down and remind him unwavering you’re a grown adult. Even if you’re in lounge shorts and holey t-shirt, you try holding your head high with as much grace as you can.
With that you head to tell your parents Joel is here then quietly slip back to your room.
Eventually your mom knocks on your door and pops her head in.
“There’s another game tonight. Wanna go?” She offers.
You decline, explaining you want to rest and catch up with a few shows you’ve been neglecting. Thankfully neither of your parents pressure you to join them.
With the house to yourself, you now search for as many videos of Joel you can.
Even slowly starting to understand baseball at a base level, you realize Joel ‘Cowboy’ Miller really is spectacular. You hear about his time playing for The University of Texas and how adored he is by his alma mater.
Then heat crawls up your chest when you see clips of him drenched in sweat, heavily breathing, or even licking his lingers to help with the ball grip.
You quickly turn the videos off before you get yourself worked up.
This has to be just a simple infatuated infestation. You simply need to try to shake it off.
The last home game the Rangers play the Minnesota Twins and Joel isn’t pitching. You again decide to sit this game out. You just have to detox yourself of Joel Miller.
Until you’re invited to a dinner cookout at his home. You thought about maybe playing sick, but with how hungry you are, you see this just as an opportunity to get a nice meal.
Your dad casually mentions Joel’s house has a pool, a nice bonus. He just forgot to mention how huge the Miller house would be.
Though gorgeously grand, it’s still surprisingly cozy. In the backyard you spot Joel at the grill and it makes your head spin. The weathered old burnt orange Texas longhorn shirt he wears looks cozy and casual, sits on him beautifully highlighting his shoulders.
You slip into the pool hoping it will cool you off. But your eyes always find Joel who now laughs with your dad.
Joel’s eyes suddenly flicker to yours, catching you staring red handed. Immediately you sink back into the water.
There’s more people here than expected and you feel a bit out of place. After drying off, you decide to head inside for a drink.
The soft Texas evening illuminates the home in a gentle glow. The music from outside floats in a soft hum making the room feel like it’s underwater.
Ellie told you the house was free for you to roam and from the quick tour she gave, you caught a glimpse of something you want to see more.
So letting yourself maybe take another peek, you walk back to the small alcove carved in the wall. It’s honestly a rather quiet achievement exhibition compared to other grand trophy rooms you’ve imagined.
There are honestly more pictures of Sarah and Ellie, along with Tommy and the rest of the Miller clan, decorating the main hallway of the house. All of it suits Joel.
His UT longhorn jersey is framed on the wall. There are a few awards clustered together, a couple of magazine covers where he looks so dashing in his uniform.
But what makes your heart float are the framed drawings of Joel with a baseball on the mound that range from adorable scribbles to a rather good pencil sketch. These had to be Ellie and Sarah’s work.
“If you’re thinkin’ about stealin’ somethin’ maybe go for the jersey. I can always get another one.”
Joel’s drawl trickles out, and you almost jump out of your skin. Turning to the side he walks to where you are. You hate how exposed you feel just being caught in his gaze and also obviously browsing in his home.
“Nah, I was hoping for a World Series ring to steal and sell but.” You shrug playful, knowing now he’s gone to the Series but never won.
Joel makes a low hissing sound like he’s injured.
“Damn, y’hit low.” He chuckles low.
You grin triumphantly.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get a ring someday.” You say simply.
“Sound sure about that.” He replies.
“Cause it’s true.” You nod. “You’re pretty great.”
Even with your limited knowledge of baseball, it’s easy to see how great he is. Joel is incredibly talented, a shining star stitched in accomplishment. Yet you can tell hasn’t let it go to his head. He’s anchored by his loved ones, and it’s admirable. You even tell him that.
“I…thanks.” He stumbles for a moment, deep dark eyes a bit cloudy as he searches your face with his voice thick and rumbled.
“What game has been your favorite?” You suddenly ask, wanting to know more about him.
His eyebrows furrow and his deep eyes glaze over a bit distant, creating a face of thought that looks adorable.
Then he nods with a soft grin remembering.
“One of the first games the girls gotta go to.” He paints a picture of seeing his daughters, sitting with their uncle Tommy, wearing too large adorable Texas Rangers jerseys.
“One of the best games I ever played.” He adds gently.
He really is a rare beauty of a man with a gilded heart of gold.
“And you? Your folks talk about ya nonstop. Tell me about grad school. And none of that simple ‘it’s good’ crap.” The quick playful mimic he does of your voice makes you laugh warm and bright.
So you tell him about your favorite moments from lecture and the fondness you have for simply embracing subjects you love so much.
Joel stares fully focused on you. You swear his eyes twinkle like stars might be sowed right in his deep earth depths.
He opens his mouth, eager to continue the conversation. Until the kitchen comes alive with more people entering inside. The bubble breaks, but electricity still brews under your skin.
The next day the Rangers have a game at Globe Life Field you go.
Even if Joel isn’t pitching, you want to experience this world he loves so much. You’re however surprised to find Joel is starting.
Your dad explains how one of the pitchers planned for today had to rest. So Joel will simply be the opener before the rest of the bullpen steps in.
Your heart doesn’t rage wildly as it did like seeing him the first time. Now you feel almost drawn to Joel. You focus on his stance on the mound, so disciplined and almost hauntingly serious.
The Arizona Diamondbacks batter hits the ball solid. It flies straight at Joel, and fear sinks its fangs into you.
Until with fast reflexes Cowboy Miller catches the ball eased. You and the stadium erupt wild.
The Rangers win one to four. On the high of the game, you head to the jerseys again in the shop.
“You should get one!” Your mom urges.
Your fingers itch, almost begging you to grab the jersey that says Miller on it. But something continues to hold you back.
On the drive back home, you now see all the great reaction clips and memes of the game. There's a particular one of Joel catching the ball that includes a great western music overlay, like he’s a hero in an old cowboy movie.
Feeling brave, you send the reel to his Instagram profile. You even add underneath the message “now you just gotta work on that slider pitch.”
You send it. Think, hell at worst the poor social media manager will see it and not even give it the time or day. He must get so many messages anyway.
When you get home, you see the message has been read.
But also, a new profile has followed you.
JM_8712
The profile also sent you a message.
JM_8712: ain’t nothing wrong with my slider
No way.
This can’t be who you think it is. You message back saying this possibly can’t be the real Joel Miller because he doesn’t seem like the type to even know how to send a gif.
JM_8712: think ur so funny huh
The account sends a simple gif of someone rolling their eyes.
Then another message flies in.
JM_8712: ur dad get those damn nachos he kept bitchin about with Tommy?
It feels like one of Joel’s changeup pitches knocks you out.
Because it’s really him messaging you. When you even go to double check the blank profile just to make sure, it barely follows more than twenty people and you spot Ellie and Sarah’s accounts among those profiles.
Warmth unfolds from your chest, dangerous and electric. This is Joel’s personal private account.
Unknowingly this all kicks off something you never thought would have ever started. You and Joel start talking.
The messages flow between you and him, back and forth, at first just talking about the games. Then, when the Rangers leave to travel, the messaging increases.
Joel sends you pictures of the places he travels, the food he eats, the vacant stadiums he gets to enjoy.
You devour it all with a greedy eagerness. However it dawns on you that you’re sliding down a slope too slippery to stop.
For the rest of the summer you earnestly check your messages on the app.
One evening, on a stormy delayed game against the Dodgers, your messages don’t send through. The weather is getting worse in Los Angeles.
“They’re gonna reschedule the game. Storm’s not letting up.” Your dad comments glumly.
You just hope Joel is alright.
Instagram finally alerts you of a message and your heart jumps.
Joel.
JM_8712: sorry connections shit
Then he simply sends you his phone number.
You wonder if you’re seeing things.
Trying to keep calm you text the number a simple message asking if he’s alright.
When your text alert chimes, it rattles your brain.
Yeah im good thanks
Then another message follows. It’s a photo from the locker, bags packed like he’s ready to leave.
Looks like room service for tonight
It’s Joel. You’re texting Joel right now.
It feels like a step deeper into a current you never want to leave.
Texting seems to shift the energy between you and him, a transmutation you never could have imagined.
You text Joel good morning and he tells you good night. You and him bond over a love of music. He’s got incredible taste while also complimenting yours. You stay up late on game days when pitched and now feel your throat dry up knowing you’re getting to know the man on the mound.
The desire brewing more for Joel mixes with the summer heat and melts the days away. Soon enough summer dwindles away, and your new semester approaches.
The drive back to your apartment is a good couple of hours. Funny enough Joel is also traveling today for a game. Stopping for gas midway, your phone goes off.
You think at first it must be one of your parents.
But instead it’s Joel.
You scramble to answer.
“Hey,” his voice sounds incredibly richer and deep on the phone.
“Y’doin’ alright?” Joel asks hesitant.
That catches you off guard.
“Oh yeah, just finished putting in gas actually. Why, what’s up?” You relax more into the conversation now curious to why he called asking that.
Joel sighs.
“Sorry I just…your last text uh, it just got me worried.”
Now you’re really curious about what you texted him. It had been half an incomplete response you sent. Even from your side it seemed abrupted and strange.
Sighing, you apologize that you didn’t even realize you had done that. In the rush of wanting to get out on the road you must have just sent the text.
But it suddenly hits you. Joel called because he was worried. That thought rips into you with a ferocious rawness.
“Okay yeah,” Joel says a bit clumsily. “I’ll…let you go.”
“No, it’s okay.” You quickly reassure him. “How’s the traveling going?”
“Good, just finished rewatching one of the inflight movies.”
“Please tell me it was Field of Dreams.” You tease him with the iconic baseball film as you head back on the road. Just now with Joel on the phone.
On speaker, Joel scoffs echoing in your car all around you. You realize this might be a bad decision trying to stay focused driving while also talking to him.
“Funny.” His thick drawl is dry but so softly teasing just below the surface.
“Was some new movie Sarah told me to watch but…fell asleep.” Joel admits low.
Thinking of him asleep on the plane clutches at something warm and deep in you.
Yes you can admit how badly you want Joel, how you picture what his calloused fingers would feel like on you, in you. But you also are finding yourself aching for more now…
Like falling asleep beside him while watching a movie, or sharing a meal with him and teasing him over his dry sense of humor.
It’s dangerous falling deeper like this.
Especially now in a blink you realize you’ve been talking to Joel this entire drive to your apartment.
“Shit sorry.” He realizes it when he sees the time. “Y’should’ve told me to fuck off. Don’t gotta waste your time talkin’ to some old ass like me.”
He rarely comments on his age, and his words sink hard into your gut.
“Trust me… I’m glad I get to talk to you.” You truthfully tell him.
“You’re the one who probably has better things to do than talk to me.” You add slightly dejected. The words even sting your lips.
“Like watching Field of Dreams.” You quickly add some light humor trying to dispel your heartache leaking in.
Joel snorts.
“Definitely would rather chat with you than watch that.” Joel mutters, but his world electrifies your skin.
“I’m flattered knowing I can beat Kevin Costner.” You joke. When he snorts amused, warmth fills you to the brim.
Someone in the distance calls out to Joel, and you know your time with him is limited. It’s confirmed when he sighs.
“Gonna be landing soon. Ya make it to your place okay?” He asks.
“I did, thank you. And thanks for keeping me company on the drive.” You smile to yourself.
“Don’t mention it. Uh, glad you made it back safe.” Joel replies and his words make you melt.
You say his name quick.
“Can you just… Text me when you make it to the hotel?” Just to know he’s safe. It’s simple, but it feels as if the words weigh a ton.
A moment passes.
“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees.
He doesn’t text you. Instead Joel calls you when he gets to the hotel.
“Saw a full on fuckin’ fight at the airport when we landed.” Joel rambles immediately, and you learn how much of a secret gossip he is. While Joel breaks down all the details of what he saw, you realize he wanted to tell you about this.
A light burst in your chest because you want to tell Joel everything too.
And when your next semester starts, you tell him all you can.
The texting stays but evolves into more frequent phone calls. Joel listens to you with a gruff saint’s patience. He faintly picks up the names of your professors, even the name of your roommate. At one point he even stays on the phone with you when you cook dinner.
Joel calls during the stretch of waiting at the airports, a few times after games. Sometimes he rants about his teammates, sighs about his frustrations when they lose or when he ends up not doing well on the mound.
While every inch in your body still hums for Joel, it’s steady now - like you’re slowly accepting these emotions fully into your bloodstream and part of your existence.
You adore Joel, maybe more than you want to admit.
During a rare night out with your friends from class, feeling nice in your favorite outfit, courage courses through you. After posting a few photos from your night out, you also post a rather nice selfie.
You pray Joel sees it. Then you get a bit tipsy, and it takes all your willpower not to text Joel.
But the alcohol burns in you. Once you’re back at your apartment, in the safety of your room, you pull up your favorite video.
It’s a spring training video the Rangers made of the team preparing for the upcoming season. The video ranged from showing the guys on the field practicing, to them in the weight room.
There’s a nice small segment just on Cowboy Joel Miller. Specifically he’s training with a few weights and when you first saw it, your throat got so dry.
Joel is drenched in sweat. The simple worn navy blue shirt sticks to his body, highlighting the tone of his arms and width of his shoulders. Curls wet with sweat stick to his forehead. His concentrated face is sinful.
But not as hot as the sounds he makes.
The grunts, the soft growls, the exhales he gives lifting the weights… they drench your thoughts with images of him fucking.
You’ve never done this before, never gotten off on his videos. You never wanted to fall this far.
But it’s so hard when your body feels molten, so wet hearing with his groans directly in your ears. Your fingers trail down to relieve the throbbing wet ache between your legs.
Imagining Joel’s sweaty gorgeous body pressed against yours, picturing his thicker fingers in you, getting to taste him on your tongue - you come incredibly fast.
The next morning a text and a somber guilt wait for you.
Joel of course had messaged you.
Looks like you had fun last night
So he did see your pictures. A blistering heat crawls in your throat.
But reality sinks in fast. You got off to Joel. You don’t want to feel guilty. You reason there’s probably others who have maybe done it. But it does quietly eat at you.
So much that you don’t even reply to Joel for the whole day trying to sort your mind out. He’s the one that eventually calls you.
“Y’go out on a date or somethin’?” Joel asks about the night out, and your mind sputters to a halt.
“Oh uh, no. Just went out with some friends in class.”
“Oh.” He replies quick. “Well, looked like fun.”
You agree and thank him.
“But yeah, no dates for me.” You weakly laugh.
“Yeah? Any reason why?” Joel presses.
Because you’re partially head over heels for him, but you can’t admit that yet.
“No one’s asked me recently that’s all.” You reply simply. You’ve done the dating apps, had the headache mess of ghosting and awkward dates.
Joel snorts. “Pretty thing like you? Hard to imagine.”
His words, like a change up ball that drops wildly in the air, disorient you.
“Trust me, it’s real.” You dryly reply.
“And you? You must be seeing some famous celebrity in secret huh?” You teasingly ask.
You’ve seen the ESPN clips of the beautiful reporters flirting with him, cooing at how handsome he is. He probably could snag a supermodel or other famous person.
Joel barks a hollow laugh of a thing.
“No, none of that.” He answers.
“Ain’t not time for that or…mainly…haven’t found anyone who’s got the patience for me.”
Your heart sinks.
“Wait, what do you mean?” You quietly press.
He sighs.
“M’ older, a single dad. My schedule ain’t perfect. And those that have tried to uh… pursue something haven’t always had the best intentions.”
His voice trails off somber. You wonder how many just wanted him for his money or fame.
A grim cloud seems to settle above you.
“You’re a great guy Joel, an incredible one.” You earnestly tell him. “Those who can’t see it don’t deserve you.”
“And I have to say it but…you’re a real catch.” You go for the obvious baseball pun.
Joel’s chuckle is a beautiful low gruff treasure.
“That was bad.” You can almost picture him shaking his head. “But thanks…same uh, same goes for you. You’re smart, gorgeous. Someone will come around to see you’re worth it.”
You’re drowning in his words. They feel too much.
He ends up having to quickly end the call with his manager calling, and you’re thankful for it. Because this blooming rawness in you feels like it’s getting too much, yet not enough.
Joel’s compliments are sincere. But many feelings tangle you up. It hurts, like you’re stuck in a rose bush trying to get comfortable within the thorns.
Then, the universe decides to pull you away from Joel.
Classes kick up and the workload piles on. You’re exhausted. It even gets harder to reply to Joel as swiftly as you did. You even miss a few of his phone calls and don’t even call him back.
The days blur together.
Then, one morning you find a text waiting for you.
hope you’re alright
You want to cradle that message.
When you call Joel, it’s like not a day has passed between you and him. Your heart soars hearing his voice again.
“So uh…” Joel begins cautiously, and you’ve never heard him this nervous almost. “We’ll be heading your way into town soon.”
That’s right.
Caught up in the semester you completely forgot the team would be playing the Astros soon. Excitement immediately rises in you.
“Hope ya can come out and see us. And if ya do, let me know.” Joel suggests and you swear his voice sounds shy.
The minute the conversation ends, you try checking for tickets. But they’re a pretty penny. You jokingly circle the top section, the highest nosebleeds, and text him saying he needs to try and find you from here.
He texts back immediately.
Don’t worry about the tickets. Just head to will call and let them know you’re with me. Got it covered
That might be one of the hottest things you’ve ever read.
Game day can’t approach any faster. Your parents even mention the upcoming game when you call to check up.
“You should try to go!” Your dad urges, eager.
A part of you has wondered if Joel mentioned you to your dad. You’ve kept quiet, not saying a thing about whatever this is with Joel, and you now think so did Joel.
You take a small comfort in that.
When game day does arrive, you head to Minute Maid Park alone. Your closest friend and classmate couldn’t make it, and neither could your roommate. But for some reason, you’re slightly okay with being here by yourself.
At the ticket window, you nervously say that you’re here for Joel. Like if nothing they verify your name, and with an ease slide tickets your way.
Not just any tickets, but seats right by the Rangers dugout.
Still stunned, but now slightly lost, you can’t help but feel stranded in the stadium.
“You okay, sweetie?” A lovely voice comes and when you turn, you find a sweet older motherly woman. She wears a Texas Rangers jersey and another younger woman stands besides her in the same jersey. They both stare at you concerned.
“You lost?” The younger woman asks sympathetically.
It must be that obvious. The motherly older woman politely asks to check your tickets to point you in the right direction. She perks up.
“Aw look at that! You’re sitting close to us! Come on, we’ll show ya around!” She beams warmly.
“Wait, are you sure?” You ask worried.
“Oh of course,” the younger woman reassures you with a smile. “The stadium is so huge and besides, us Rangers fans gotta stick together.”
She then winks, noticing the Rangers shirt you bought and wore for the game.
You find out Malinda, the older woman, is the mother of the first baseman. And the other lady, Casey, is his wife.
Kindly, this sweet family adopts you, guiding you towards the section literally right besides the dugout on the other side of the net.
You’re stunned in shock yet again.
Even though your tickets are a few rows away from the two sweet ladies, they reassure you you’ll be fine sitting with them.
It’s beautiful and comforting.
“So, who are you here for?” Casey asks with a friendly gossip like whisper. “These seats are for friends and family, and I haven’t seen you around before.”
But then she quickly reassures you don’t have to explain if you don't want to.
You with a weak laugh you’re here to see Joel, adding that he’s a family friend. Her eyes go wide.
“Oh wow! And he warmed up today too so he might pitch!” She says excitedly.
Joel had texted you before the line up was confirmed that he would be warming up.
Don’t know if I’m gonna get put in but just in case
Even if he didn’t, you told him you just wanted to be there to support him.
With the Rangers being the visiting team, they bat first. You want to root for the guys to get a hit and get on base, but you also already selfishly want to see Joel.
Three outs come and the Rangers switch to take the field. No sign of Joel.
In fact he doesn’t show up until the fifth inning, and it happens so casually. Joel simply walks out from the dugout and takes your breath away.
The team wears their cobalt blue jerseys and the color flatters Joel marvelously.
It feels like seeing him for the first time all over again but through a deeper lens you can’t explain.
You clap and cheer with pride when he manages to strike out the first batter. Then the second.
Two strikeouts back to back.
Joel told you back in his younger days he struck out seven hitters in a row. Now for him to get two, much less strike out the third batter, is something to applaud and admire. And the Rangers fans here, including yourself, cheer loud when the team heads back for the next inning.
“Cowboy Miller in his golden age.” Someone off to the side whistles appreciatively.
You don’t fight the syrupy fondness swallowing you whole.
“It’s rare that a more…seasoned pitcher like Joel still is relied on,” your new friend Casey explains. “But it’s hard to see why not. Everyone’s been saying like he’s almost found a new groove and still has so much power.”
He’s a force you’re terribly in awe of.
Seeing the whip of how strong his body still pitches the ball with a dizzying speed, how handsome he looks under the baseball cap, you want to savor this as much as you can.
Joel manages to get two more strikes out in the second inning. Then by the seventh they get a hit off him but thankfully, no runs come in. Cowboy Miller ends the inning striking out the final batter. You, and the other Rangers fans present, erupt wild.
He did amazing.
Laser focused, locked in on the game, he doesn’t search the crowd or even glance up and you understand. The game gets intense when the Astros manage to hit a home run in the eight. In the end the Rangers win because of an error.
But it’s still a sweet victory.
You relish and warmly celebrate it with your co cheerleaders for the game that made you feel so welcomed with them. You’re about to head up and leave, start looking for an Uber ride home, when Malinda calls to you.
“Sweetie? Aren’t ya gonna wait with us and greet the guys!?” She asks with warm curious sweetness.
You can’t say no.
The commotion sweeps you into a neon coated excitement. There’s a special area sectioned off, almost in a backstage-like section that connects to the entry way for the visiting teams. You’re surprised at how many others wait here.
The team slowly trickles out of the locker room and into the hallway. You’re hilariously reminded of a class being let out.
Then the world then melts away when Joel walks out. Focused on his phone you almost want to call out to him, but your voice gets caught in your throat.
Putting his phone away Joel finally glances up and spots you.
Even with his baseball cap on, you see his eyes widen for a fraction. Your body reacts on its own moving towards him. But he also walks fiercely towards you.
The world blurs away for a moment and then without even thinking, you’re embracing him.
It happens so naturally you don’t even realize what you did until you blink and it’s like you’ve been thrown into cold water.
Panicking, you’re about to pull away until Joel’s arms slowly wrap around you.
“Good to see ya too.” He says low gruff but you’re taken out by the knees grateful your body doesn’t give out.
He smells of sweat, of the dirt on the field, and something sharply Joel, and it’s wonderful.
Quickly you draw yourself away to proudly tell him how amazing he did. Joel waves you off with a gruff noise as his eyes refuse to meet you, almost bashful.
It’s been so long since you’ve seen him this close, been in the same space as him. And it feels so different.
“Alright, dinner?” Someone says, and when you turn, you’re stunned to see it’s the team manager.
Guess this means you’ll be saying goodbye.
“Headin’ home?” Joel asks when he notices you staying back once everyone funnels outside.
“Uh yeah, gotta grab an Uber first. Didn’t wanna drive down here and deal with Houston traffic along with awful parking during a game.” You joke, and Joel snorts.
“Let me take ya back then.” He offers, and you almost drop your phone.
You scramble out reassuring Joel it’s fine.
“Besides, don’t you have dinner to go to?” And where would he even get a car to take you.
“S’fine. Would rather make sure you get home safe anyway.” He then tells you to hang tight then goes to grab one of the rental cars the team has on ready.
Because of course they do.
Your blood hums wild knowing Joel is taking you home, that you’re going to be alone with him. Even in this glimmering dusted dream you still want to tell Malinda and Casey goodbye and thanks for treating you so kindly.
You wish them well and even welcome their warm goodbye hug.
“Wish you could come to dinner!” Casey frowns.
“Maybe next time.” Her mother in law says bright.
Next time.
“Yes hope to see you at more games.” Casey grins and the possibility bubbles iridescent in you.
With a goodbye to them you wait for Joel. There are still a few others of the wives or girlfriends hanging around while the team sorts out where to go.
You haven’t turned to give them any attention. However something crawls on your skin like you’re hyper aware of being watched.
“Did you see how she hugged him? Probably just using him, poor Joel.” One of them whispers.
“She’s not even that pretty.” Another one giggles.
“Oh then you know he’s maybe just using her then! And if that’s the case then good for Joel.” The other replies with a searing joke that makes your stomach sick.
Joel returns, keys in his hand. “Ready to go?”
You weakly grin back.
You should be basking in this moment of finally getting to be alone with Joel, of getting to see him drive you around. Once in the car he took off his cap allowing you sight of his soft hair. The darkness of the car, the warmth of the city lights flickering by, all coat him glorious. Yet those comments from earlier fester poisonous and sour any hope of enjoying this.
You stay rather quiet while giving him directions to your place.
Joel however is surprisingly talkative.
“So you’ll have to give me recommendations of places to go around here.” His voice even sounds just traces softer, higher almost - like he’s happy being here.
And it kills you.
“Y’seem quiet, you okay?” He notices it of course, ever aware.
“Yeah, just a bit tired. Didn’t know the game would take that much outta me.” You lie.
Eventually you arrive at your apartment complex.
“Your place is nice.” Joel admires as he helps you out of the car like the Texan gentleman he is. He even follows you to your door.
You graciously thank him again for this night and for taking you home.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asks again.
You walk a few steps away from him. The night all around is still quiet, feels soupy with how much hangs in you.
You refuse to cry about this, don’t want to get emotional. If anything, you deserve to treat this like an adult.
“Joel…” you start cautiously, already hating the way your voice wavers.
“Yeah?” His voice stays steady, unbothered, but his eyes furrowing say otherwise.
“What…what is this? What are we?” You ask as steady as you can, but your tone continues to crack.
Joel’s eyes brow furrow and his mouth closes, tightening his jaw.
“Just…good friends.” He replies simply, almost cold. “Just showing my pal’s daughter a nice night.”
There it is.
Your soul deflates. So all the times you’ve felt like this might be something, maybe it's just been you wishing it would be.
So salvaging whatever dignity left, you nod.
“Thanks again, Joel.” You reply briskly and return walking towards your door.
He says your name. It stops you dead in your tracks.
“Why? Why d’ya ask that?” He asks, pressing firm and hard.
You turn back to him, and a deep scowl is etched on his face.
“It doesn’t matter.” You answer.
“The fuck does that mean?” He snaps a bit sharp.
“It means what it means.” You fire back.
“Bullshit. Why did you ask that?” Joel growls out firmer.
“Even if I told you, it doesn’t matter.” You repeat.
“Stop sounding like a fuckin’ owl.” His voice rises hard and fast, like a hand slamming on the wall.
It startles you, makes your eyes water and something in you shakes. Mainly because you know this is beginning to taste like the end. The smallest trace of hope is dissipating right before you.
You blink back tears, and immediately Joel’s face falls.
“Honey, I’m sorry-”
Shaking your head, you cut him off. Not even the sweet pet name he effortlessly uses can shake you.
Through gritted teeth you tell him to go.
“Not when you’re this upset.” He urges.
Through tears a sad water laugh escapes you and Joel’s eyes go cloudy.
“I’m realizing…I’ll never be anything to you then just your friend's kid, huh?” Your voice is waterlogged and you can’t fight it.
“You are.” He states simple and straightforward.
You nod, swallowing back the heartache boiling over.
“Can’t be anythin’ more than that.” Joel adds through mutter.
“Why?” You now ask him. Under the amber light of your apartment’s hallway the most frustrated cloudy look hardens his face.
His eyes scan your face then he steps closer towards you
“Don’t act dumb, sweetheart.” His voice rips out low cruel, slightly harsh.
You’re not and you tell him that.
“I…” the words you’ve held locked up so fiercely in your heart now sneak out from their bars to escape.
“I’d give anything to be yours, Joel.” You croak barely realizing you even said that.
He inhales, and his face goes taunt.
You wait for the sharp reply, even brace for it.
Instead Joel swoops in, kisses you wild like a sudden storm, and presses you against the door of your apartment.
Greedily, you claw onto him not wanting to ever let this go, to let him go. Your mouth begs him more to invade and consume. And he does so with a steady hunger.
The clamor into your apartment is messy, but at one point Joel cautiously stops to look around.
“My roommate’s visiting family…” you reassure, kissing his neck and softly under the side of his jaw with delicate cautious lips.
“Just you and me.” You whisper soft.
Joel takes command the minute you lead him to your room.
“Thought about this. Fuck, think about ya all the damn time.” He growls against your neck as he slides your bra off and runs a callous hand over your chest.
“Fucked my fist that first night you went swimmin’ at m’house.” Joel’s words make you whine and then his lips lick against your skin trying to savor you.
“Me too.” You admit through a whimper. “Touched myself thinking of you.”
Joel freezes.
“Tell me,” he says rather calmly, deadly almost.
Your syrupy lust begins fading away when you realize what you said, what he asks for, and what your answer will be.
Your lips and eyes shut close.
Then Joel’s warm breath, like a ghost, crawls against up your chest and tickles against your ear now.
“Come on, honey,” his voice is utterly decadent with a plea. “Tell me, please.”
You swallow hard telling Joel you don't want him to get weirded out.
He hums against your neck already starting to suck a mark against your skin. Your eyes roll back, and the embarrassment is quickly fading away.
“Promise, I’ll be okay.” Joel reassures you with a mumble against your skin.
So with a shaky voice, you weakly admit how you touched yourself to videos of him.
He groans.
“Baby, oh fuck, fuckin - shit.” Joel sputters out hard, like he just got kicked in the gut, and you’re worried until his lips smash into yours.
He devours you.
You’re swept into a tangled dizzying frenzy. Your clothes practically get ripped off as do Joel’s while he clutches onto you and licks into your mouth.
“That’s my girl. Knew you’d be m’good girl.” He says almost drunk and you’re done for.
You fall into the chasm with no hopes of turning back. But you don’t want to.
Joel feels like a god carving open your universe. You want to consume him and want him to consume you. He becomes your center of gravity.
In the aftermath, you’re left basking in Joel’s warmth and never want to leave.
Even though you were in his arms, Joel had to sit up to take a call and now scrolls through his phone. Your fingers trace his beautiful back.
You’re thankful for all the soft lamps you bought that now melt him into a dreamlike glow.
“Joel.”
He hums a gruff gentle noise that says he’s listening.
“I don’t…” you begin softly, then tell him your doubts. You don’t want him to think you’re simply using him for his status or money.
“Joel… you could quit or retire tomorrow and work with your brother as a contractor and I’d still always want you the way I want you.” Your deliciously aching limbs, the soft afterglow, all of it has you speaking soft and freely.
You never wanted Joel because of his fame or even because of the forbidden taste of him being friends with your dad. You wanted Joel for deeper reasons, some that have carved out a chasm in your heart.
You explain this all to him best as you can without rambling or sounding silly.
Joel sighs.
“Y’shouldn’t.” His voice is a hollow rumble. “I’m old, friends with your dad. We shouldn’t be doin’ this.”
Now a bitter venom spills in you.
You glare at his back, how his shoulders slump defeated while you sit up
“I'm an adult, Joel. And if that’s all you’re worried about then sorry it’s a shit reason.” You launch back.
Over his shoulder he glares at you.
“If…” you swallow hard. “If you’re the one who wants to leave, because i’m that young, or you really don't want this or don’t feel what I feel, then fine. At least tell me that.”
“But I care about you. And I want to make this, us, work.” You finish firmly, even with how much emotions clash in your chest.
Joel sighs again. His eyes face turns away now down downcasted.
“Didn’t wanna want you the way I do. You’re so bright, fucking’ smart and so g’damn gorgeous.” He softly admits.
A pause settles between him and you.
“Y’could be with someone younger, less complicated.” Joel admits low.
“Don’t want anyone younger or less complicated. Just want you.” You reassure with a soft steady mutter.
He goes quiet again.
“Used to not get bothered when I started leavin’ away games by myself. With Tommy married and the business booming, then the girls startin’ to have their own lives…I didn’t mind doing this alone.”
Underneath his words you catch it, his rusting loneliness.
“But then…these past few months…and now today seeing ya waitin’ for me…” he says clipped, like the rest of his words are caught in his throat and he can’t free them yet
Joel turns, and his eyes bore into you.
The silence stays as you stare unflinchingly back at him.
He doesn’t need to say anything else. You don’t think you have to either. Like a magnetic pull, it’s effortless moving towards him. Joel’s warm large calloused hand, seasoned from so many seasons of hard work, of pitching, cradles your face. You kiss him with every inch of your heart.
Even after spending the night, you’re surprised Joel hasn’t left yet. He even comments about figuring out lunch plans with you.
“You have another game today, Cowboy.” You comment.
The term makes his eyebrows rise, and the most coy smirk tugs his face making him look so charming.
“Got today off to rest, ya little shit.” It’s affectionate. “Besides my back ain’t what it use to be and after goin’ more rounds with ya this morning-”
In the middle of your living room you rush to kiss him.
The rest of the day unfolds like a dream drenched and stitched from every domestic fantasy you’ve ever had. Joel stands in your kitchen when you make him a quick lunch and you laugh apologizing that your fridge isn’t MLB diet certified. Joel steals your last saved snack after that joke.
Cuddled snug on the couch with him, you try watching a movie but Joel, so greedy and handsy, ends up fucking your brains out with his tongue.
When dinner rolls around, you order from your favorite local takeout place and Joel pays for everything. You ignore all the work you need to do for the week and don’t care. You’re here at this moment and want to stay crystalized in it for as long as you can.
But tomorrow is the last day before the team leaves to Miami to play the Marlins.
While showering with him, you wrap yourself against Joel’s back already dreading his leave. He seems to sense it too because his hands squeezes yours.
Against your shower wall he glides into you tender and slow, almost trying to draw out every inch of this.
Later that night, you try staying up but the day begins settling in. Your eyes flutter trying to fight sleep.
He mutters your name soft while his fingers run soft against your side.
“Hm?” You answer, trying hard to fight your tired eyes.
“Don’t want ya to think i’m ever using you, honey. You’re not just some young thing keepin’ me company.”
His words are simple, but they erupt so much in you.
Joel had been spooning you from behind, but now you immediately turn around to burrow your face against his chest. You reassure him and his arms tighten around you wonderful chains you wish never break.
But the next morning arrives.
“Gonna come to our last game here?” Joel asks while he packs up.
“Don’t know, I heard you guys still have that really old guy who might be pitching.” You say with a shrug.
His face frowns hard, but Joel moves to playfully smack your ass while you laugh. He quickly draws you in for another kiss.
You have class tomorrow and work you need to jump on, but you go to the game. Joel doesn’t play, but you don’t mind. Getting to hug him goodbye one last night in the shadow of the stadium is worth it.
“Text ya when we get to the airport.” Joel promises, secretly placing a soft kiss on your head.
That night when you get home you order not one, but two Joel Miller jerseys.
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