#What You've Done Part 8
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andyoullhearitagain · 8 months ago
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Every Starfleet Uniform Ranked By How Annoying The Sleeve Is To Sew, Part 2
Part 1
6. TOS Men's Uniform:
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Here we have 1. Quite a severe curve 2. with a zipper in it 3. an invisible zipper at that 4. with pattern matching through the zipper at the collar
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5. in velour (slippery). Woof.
7. Disco:
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OK we've got two points of pattern matching, but they don't have to be too precise because they've got this round shiny striped piece between them. Of course that piecing means we're basically setting a sleeve in twice, but I will concede that the stretch will be more forgiving than a woven would be. Add in the piecing on the bicep and two different sticky rubber-y fabrics for further difficulty. 
8. TNG Version 2B and Voyager:
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All the work of a tailored sleeve with an added inverse corner in an intersection of four seams.
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PLUS two points of pattern matching, which is very tricky in an armsyce because you're trying to get the pitch right. You can see in TNG they often have trouble with it and have either a jog in the pattern matching
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or too much ease in the wrong place to force the pattern to match.
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They seem to have figured it out by Voyager though. I'm also fairly certain they have raglan shoulder pads in them instead of regular ones, which isn't really harder I guess but is a bit odd (no shade, they're incredibly flattering).
9. DS9/ TNG Movies:
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All the difficulties of the TNG armscye and now we've added trim, meaning we really have four points of pattern matching instead of two. I could be persuaded that the contrast pieces are applied over the upper sleeve piece instead of pieced, which is easier than what TNG is doing.
10. Enterprise:
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I think this is regular raglan sleeve and not some kind of half raglan/half set in sleeve like we see in TNG. Either way it's a bit easier than the TNG sleeve because the trim and yoke are applied on top and top stitched. But we've still got that mitered corner in our bias trim and our four points of pattern matching on the shoulder seam. And then we've also added like four zippers!!!
11. Picard:
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What did the stitchers do to this designer? FOUR inverse corners (I guess at least it doesn't intersect a seam this time) PLUS the piecing at the cuff, PLUS all the pattern matching at the armscye, and all in stretch (I think). The only reason it's not the most difficult sleeve is because it looks fairly flat and I bet if you do a nice tight hand baste you can get everything lined up on the first try. Also this is not strictly speaking part of the sleeve but those little corners in the yoke? Good grief.
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12. TNG Version 2A:
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Never in my life have I seen an armscye like this. What is this even called? How do you construct it? I suppose I would sew the sleeve pieces together, set them in the armscye, then sew the raglan/yoke pieces together at the shoulder seam and then stitch them all the way across the front and then all the way across the back. But good grief. The ONLY other sleeve I could find remotely like this is this 1940s Simplicity pattern (it's on ebay if you want it).
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With a few added seams you can imagine what these pattern pieces must look like.
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13. TNG Version 1:
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All the malarkey of 2A except you've got to do it in spandex. I'd pick wool any day. We also have a second yoke (?!) so now we have to do that little inverse corner TWICE and also add piping. Never in my life have I done an intersection of piping correctly the first time.
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And then on top of all that it's ugly. Terrible sewing experience. Worst sleeve in Star Trek *bangs gavel*.
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awrkive · 4 months ago
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NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 2 — JJK (m.)
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in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
CHAPTER WORD COUNT 22.5k
CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, lovely hot nerdy jk ): (i think i speak for all women when i say that nerdy jungkook is the best jungkook say I IF U AGREE),[explicit sexual content: masturbation (f)], has the budding romance finally hit the second towers? read more to find out
NOTES hey everyone thank you so much for the overwhelming support on this silly little fic. i hope you guys enjoy this update and let me know your thoughts in the replies/reblog section and in my inbox, wherever you prefer hehe <3
NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN
READ ON WATTPAD | AO3
PART ONE | TWO | THREE
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You usually finish prepping for the office at around 7:40 am, just enough time left to walk to the station and catch your bus at exactly 8 am.
As of now, it's 7 but the clock's longer hand has moved past the 40-minute mark, and you are still in your living room, supposedly all done and ready to go – except that you're stuck on the floor looking at your laptop perched on your coffee table, staring at it blankly, the HR email looking right back at you; almost daunting.
Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this event is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this meeting is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department
You've been reading it over and over again you're sure you can recite it with ease if prompted. It's in the hopes that the name Jeon Jungkook will suddenly disappear somewhere in the email – that maybe you missed some detail, and it doesn't actually mention his name at all. You read the email repeatedly wishing that it is just a glitch in the system and what you found out about yesterday are all just a part of your extreme delusion. Maybe it's one of those nights with Jimin at his apartment where you would indulge in a little bit of guilty pressure – pots, to be exact – and just let it take you to a whole new world.
But you and Jimin didn't go home together last night, and you definitely did not smoke pot. He went straight to the airport and you straight home with nothing but mixed feelings inside, and you were more than thankful that Jimin was in a bout of panic himself about not getting there on time that he didn't notice you squirming in his passenger seat.
There is a vague memory in your head with him telling you he was going to come with Namjoon, but you can't be for sure. Everything that transpired that night is all reduced down to the very moment in the comfort room when you realized the glaring information about Jungkook being three eggs in your basket: first, he's Jimin's cousin. Second, he's an executive in your company – a CTO, to be exact – and while you aren't exactly working under his department and they are all the way up ten floors above you, he's still technically your boss according to the hierarchy. The son of the CEO of the very company you are working at. Not only is he the CTO, but third he's also your neighbor. Someone you've met weeks ago whom you may have developed a growing relationship with that will now possibly be bleak in a matter of hours or days depending on if you are going to tell him or if he finds out.
That is the thing that you're currently debating with yourself about as you let your eyes glide over the unsuspecting email from HR for the nth time.
7:50 am – the clock on your screen reads.
You think about the dock pay that you're gonna get if you come to work late. At this point, you can run to the station and still catch your bus, but you have to decide in a minute for that to be possible.
Groaning, you feel defeated as you shut your laptop close and stand up from the floorboards, your eyes going over to the door across from you which earns yourself a wince.
I'm gonna get a dock pay and it will all be Jungkook's fault. That jerk.
Okay – obviously, he's far from a jerk and he has nothing to do with any of this. You just like blaming anybody.
You sigh, grabbing your bag, finally making up your mind to just go and see for yourself what today has to offer you. A little optimism, if you will. But if you manage to bump into Jungkook at that company you aren't sure if you're not going to do something embarrassing because one thing about you, you do not know how to face certain challenges in life like a matured individual – you always have to be a little overboard and overdramatic with it.
You were heading towards the door when you suddenly remember your ID.
Your ID. Funny.
As you pick it up off the coffee table, you think about how you don't really wear it on the way to work and on your way home. You don't like the feeling of the lanyard wrapping around the skin of your nape, so you've always just worn it when you're in the office where it is mandatory. Otherwise, you make sure to take it off.
Suddenly, you think about a scenario where you're the kind of employee to wear their ID all the time, and those nights where you'd go to Midday straight from work to have dinner with Jungkook would've turned out differently because then if you were to have worn your ID during one of those meetings, he would've figured out that you're working at the same company. And maybe... the conversation about his relation to Jimin would've came up.
And maybe, you won't feel so... complicated about the whole thing.
How – in the two weeks that you've spent with him – do you know too much yet so little about him? How did you ever not ask each other where you work and how did this all come to you like a landslide and now you have no way out?
God's sake, you know about his dog, and you've exchanged numbers... and yet...
Although, granted, maybe you should've asked for each other's socials? Does he have Instagram? Twitter? Maybe if you had exchanged those sooner, you would've gotten to know him more and made the connections you only recently found out.
You want so badly to reach out to Jimin to talk to him about all of this. But he hasn't really contacted you since he sent off Namjoon to the airport. Maybe he really did leave with him, and it isn't just your imagination when he said something about going there last night when you sneaked out of the party.
But deep inside... you do not really want to talk to him about any of this, at all.
It is, to simply put, awkward.
You feel ashamed for gushing about your neighbor that is apparently the same person as his cousin. Feel embarrassed about how you ogled over him to Jimin when in fact, they're related. You don't know about other people, but you know the unspoken rule about not dating your friends' relatives? Not like you're dating Jungkook, but you have a crush on him for fuck's sake. The strings do not even stop at their blood relation because it extends to your workplace as well.
You know Jimin well enough to feel confident about not getting judged by him if you were to tell him about it, and if he actually does, he will directly say it to your face as far as you're concerned. But...
It's just all too awkward to tell anyone about. You're in too deep in the sea of embarrassment and shame you cannot think of ways to get out of it.
Your head is starting to hurt, and you know it's the sign to stop thinking. So, you shut up all the voices in your head and walk towards the door ready to go out, telling yourself that whatever happened, you're going to handle everything cooly like the grown woman you are.
Stepping outside the threshold of your apartment, you're just about to turn around to lock the door on your way out when suddenly, the door across yours opens and there welcomes you the man starring in your list of problems for the day: Jeon Jungkook, your neighbor Unit 446.
"Oh, hi. Good morning—"
You turn on your heel so quickly and open the door to your apartment so fast it's almost at the speed of light, entering your apartment once again and slamming the door closed, pressing your back on it as your eyes widen; heart beating at a staccato of thug, thug, thug as you take a moment to hold your breath.
What the fuck.
How in the hell is this the first time you see each other getting ready to work? It couldn't have happened in the first week you knew him or hell, the first day?! Why must you have bumped into him like that the moment you finally knew about who he is? Everything is getting way too ridiculous. It's like the universe is telling you once again that you'll always be her middle child: unfavorable by all ends.
"Shit." You hiss, biting your lip quite harshly as you think about how you must've looked like a goddamn fool turning on him like that for no reason. Jungkook must've been weirded the hell out – and rightfully so.
You face-palm. Damn, you were just telling yourself you're gonna handle everything like a grown, matured woman.
You unconsciously walk on your tippy toes on the way to the small window on the side of the door that lets you oversee outside your door, peeking from there like a creep as you watch Jungkook, still on his porch – with his grey coat over his arm – looking down on his phone and doing something with it.
That something is apparently sending you a text.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: why did u seem like u just saw a ghost?
The message read when you open your phone at the bell of notification. You haven't even read all of it yet when another one comes in.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: am I that appalling in the mornings? Haha 🥴
On any occasion, you would've laughed and go along with the joke, but you do not know what to say to him.
You stand there doing nothing, just staring at his two consecutive messages, poorly left on read. You purse your lips as you peek from the small window again, getting a glimpse of Jungkook standing still on his porch, eyes glued to his phone. He waits for awhile, and then you see him shaking his head with a hint of... smile on his face?
And then your phone dings once again.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:53am]: good morning by the way. Get safely to work
You stare at it so hard that the next second you look at the window, he isn't there anymore.
Letting out a heavy breath, you knock your head on the door, thinking about how you missed your 8 am bus and you have to wait for 30 minutes for another one to come and most especially, how you're going to get a dock pay for being late.
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It's almost as if Jungkook is running for higher office the way his face is plastered all over the LED screens inside the building, showing the announcement of his ceremony. It's taunting almost, the way it was the first thing you see when you swiped your ID for entry.
Although, you do find it funny that it's the same man you just saw in front of you when you stepped outside of your place earlier this morning.
"Sol," you call your co-worker and also your friend, sliding your swivel chair closer to her desk. "Do we really have to go to the ceremony?" You ask, seeing that everybody in the office is already setting aside the stuff on their desks to head out to the 12th floor where the announcement ceremony will be held.
Sol fixes the post-it note on her computer first before turning to you, "Of course we do."
You pout at that.
"Is Ms. Jung really gonna be mad if we don't attend?"
"You know how she has this obsession of making our department look good, so I'm assuming yes." She answers, and you slump in your seat knowing damn well she's right to think that. Sol sees your seemingly grumpy disposition and asks, "Why? You don't wanna go?"
If only she knew.
You shake your head to her question.
"I just think it's gonna be boring," you shrug, the lie rolling on your tongue seamlessly.
"Eh, at least it's less work for today. Those things run for two hours and there's free lunch so that's that."
Events like these are supposed to be advantageous for you because again, Sol is right and those things do run for about two hours meaning less workload. Also, free lunch. Who doesn't like free stuff? But then again, Jungkook is going to be there and with your luck, you're starting to think that you're going to see more of him from now on. That is just how the world works against you.
"You're right." You say, frowning becoming more and more apparent, you're sure.
Sol chuckles at you and stands up herself, fixing her dress as you follow her out of the office.
Before you could completely go out though, you stop her on her tracks.
"Hey, do you think you have a face mask I can borrow?" You say, looking hopefully at her. Sol raises her brows, obviously confused at your strange request. Clearing your throat, you pretend to cough a little in your fisted hand. "I'm feeling a little under the weather today, but I drank my meds this morning. Forgot the mask." You reason with her, adding more lies to the conversation.
"Oh, I see. Okay, I think I have it." Sol perks up at the realization and you both enter your office once again, with your co-worker digging through her desk's drawer for the mask you were asking her for.
She hands it to you as soon as she finds it and you're quick to wear it around your mouth, silently rejoicing in your head at the brilliant last-minute plan you came up with in your head in order to avoid anything with Jungkook later. Not that you expect him to do something if he, indeed, sees you – you doubt he even will, given that the hall is huge, and you are planning to sit all the way back – but the mask is just a precautionary measure so there are less chances of him recognizing you or anything crazy like that.
Together, Sol and you ride the elevator down to the 12th floor and unsurprisingly, a lot of the company's employees are already there, finding their seats, chitchats heard across the hall.
"Sol, __!" Joonhwi, one of your co-junior accountants and also a friend, calls out to you both, separating himself from the other accountants and heading to your direction. "You're sick?" He asks as soon as he sees your face covered with the mask.
"A little." You reply.
Joonhwi nods his head and then say, "I thought you girls were planning to ditch the ceremony."
"I'll do anything to not see your face but then again we work together so I have no choice." Sol snarkily remarks.
"Sol, can you please refrain from professing your love to me with all these people around?" Joonhwi retorts back, smarmy and teasing, ever the expert on how to get on Sol's nerves.
"__, can you get this khia away from me?"
You laugh at both of their exchange, shaking your head at their silly antics. You don't know if Sol is just... emotionally constipated, but damn, she sure is clueless as hell about Joonhwi's feelings. It seems like everybody from the accounting department knows except for her.
Shaking your head, you go straight to the seats available with Joonhwi and Sol sitting on opposite sides of you.
"Anyway, I heard they're appointing Mr. Jeon's son." Joonhwi suddenly say.
Now that makes you squirm.
"Really?" You utter, just to give them a reaction.
Sol looks at you weird. "I thought everybody knew that?"
"Well, there are lots of Jeons in Korea..." you tell her, earning a laugh from Joonhwi which makes Sol frown.
"A man is not allowed to laugh in my vicinity, Joonhwi, shut up," she says rolling her eyes. Her tone shifts when she speaks to you though, suddenly sounding more gossip-y as she shows you a picture on her phone. "Look at the material, though,"
You look at the photo of a man who very much has the same and exact coloring of the one and only Jeon Jungkook you know and you have to swallow the lump in your throat.
"I mean, I've always thought Mr. Jeon was a DILF but his son is – damn." She adds, zooming in on Jungkook's professional head shot.
You and Joonhwi both give her the stinky eye.
"Have some class." you tell her, earning a laugh from both of them.
"For the record, you agreed to that before." Sol points out, referring to that dinner you three had at a barbecue house awhile ago. For the record, though, you were both drunk and Joonhwi had to haul Sol's ass back to her place and call Jimin to get you to yours.
"I refuse to acknowledge anything I've ever said when I was drunk."
"Okay but is anybody getting the urge to get transferred to the IT department expeditiously?" Sol jokes, obviously swooning over Jungkook.
Joonhwi snorts. "The CTO doesn't even go there."
"Killjoy much?" Sol frowns at him. "He'd visit, though. Imagine the eye candy."
You eye her in a teasing manner, "You have enough candy on your plate, Sol." And then you subtly look over Joonhwi.
Joonhwi himself doesn't seem to expect the insinuation, but nonetheless you know that he got the message of you implying he's good-looking and if Sol is looking for that, he's just there. That is why he suddenly loses his smirk and rests his back on the seat, crossing his arms as he retires himself from the conversation, obviously dodging your teasing.
Psh. Emotionally constipated co-worker number two.
"What the hell does that mean?" Sol asks, but she can't get an answer as the ceremony begins.
"Good morning, everyone. Today marks a significant moment as we gather to appoint our interim Chief Technology Officer," The host starts the introduction, "We are here to acknowledge the pivotal role of the CTO in our company's journey to ensure continuity in our innovation efforts. It is with great pleasure that I introduce Mr. Jeon Jungkook, our interim CTO, who has been selected to step into the position."
And there is him, in his grey suit that you've seen him in earlier. He's wearing his glasses as well, the one that has the thinner frame. You notice he switches between two kinds; he wears the thick-framed one off work and the thin-framed one during work, like right now. 
Jungkook smiles at the applause that reverberates all over the hall. There are LED screens that hang on both sides of the room and you can see his face clearly there. Sol gushes over how good he looks.
"Jesus, wow..." Sol whispers to herself, and you're sure she did not mean for you to hear that, so you try not to acknowledge it because deep inside, you agree with her. That's exactly your reaction when you saw him for the first time in the stairs of your apartment complex – and he didn't even clean up in his suit that time.
Jungkook stands on the podium with an easy-going smile on his face, his aura screaming confidence. He looks so sure of himself, like he's born to actually do this.
"Thank you, Mr. Park. Good day to all. I am deeply honored and humbled to accept the role of Chief Technology Officer at Blue Nexus Incorporation. As we navigate this interim period, my commitment is to uphold..."
You watch as he starts his speech, noting how well he speaks. You aren't a stranger to how people have different personalities when they are in and off work, but it's almost disorienting to see Jungkook going all professional, his voice soft but edgy at the same time, just enough for you and everyone to recognize a bit of authority in there.
He looks over the crowd, and for a brief second, you feel as if his eyes glossed over you far longer than he had other parts in the room.
But that thought dies down as quickly when he immediately goes back to speaking, and you're sure you just imagined it.
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You're in the middle of your night routine when your phone suddenly dings.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:44pm]: just remembered we never really got around to that boxing machine, did we
Right. Today is Friday and you are supposed to go that boxing machine to determine if he's gonna supply your daily boba or if you're coming over to his place so he can cook you both a meal.
But that deal was made days ago when you still were clueless about his identity, and admittedly, you'd say that right now, you're doing anything to avoid him.
Scrolling through your message thread and seeing Jungkook's texts since that morning being left on read makes you feel bad. You know it isn't fair. It isn't nice to just suddenly go leave people dry like that, especially Jungkook who has been so strangely non-confronting about your sudden weird behavior.
It takes you a few minutes to give him a reply due to you erasing and retyping your message repeatedly.
You [10:47pm]: sorry ive been busy the whole day with work ):
Was what you lamely came up with. You couldn't have done better than that, to be honest with yourself.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:47pm]: I see Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:48pm]: so raincheck tonight?
You [10:48]: sorryyyy for cancellig im just feeling a little under the weather
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:49pm]: ohhhh ok ok sorry for texting late
You [10:50pm]: asbdbsfjshf its fine!!!!!!!!
Maybe you didn't think it through, but you find yourself typing the next message and hitting send way too quickly.
You [10:51pm]: maybe tomorrow?
You're thinking about taking it back, but Jungkook has already replied.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:51pm]: ok. I'll see you tomorrow 😊
Pursing your lips, you wonder what he's doing tonight.
Is he working? Maybe some take-home paperworks? What do CTOs even do? He must be really busy... though you think it has to be otherwise since he had the time to text you.
You stand up from the chair of your vanity table, patting your hair one last time and jumping to your bed, ready to overthink some more then sleep when an idea suddenly pops up into your head the moment your eyes lay on your phone.
Making yourself comfortable on your mattress, you pick up the phone from your night stand and unlock it, your fingers making quick work of opening the Instagram app and typing jeonjungkook on the search bar.
The results show you a few accounts that resemble the username you looked up, but as you check each one, none of them seems to belong to the man you're looking for. So, you try a few varieties: jungkook, jungkookjeon, jeon... JK?... but then you're sure you've milked out the last of your brain juice trying to come up with a possible username for him but to no avail.
Jimin must be following him, you think to yourself. Since Jimin is a snob on his verified and public account and isn't following anybody there, you go straight to his private account to try and find a Jungkook in his following but again – you guessed it, failed search.
"Does he not have an IG?" you ask yourself, feeling quite exhilarated.
You think about Twitter, but remembering Jungkook's face makes you share your head in disagreement with yourself. There is no way he has Twitter. That guy looks terminally offline and doesn't have the face of someone who likes tweeting in his leisure time.
You'd say it was curiosity rather than desperation when you decided to install Facebook and hoped to see some of him there. You did have little hopes though, as you started typing his name, thinking there was no way you'd see him on the app because, who even uses Facebook nowadays except moms and dads and grandparents?
But then as you jokingly type his name and enter it on the search bar, a few tagged pictures of him show up.
The first one is posted by a Jeon Junghyun, his brother, and the picture is from 2017. Said picture is of Jungkook at the airport sitting on his luggage, and the caption reads as: good luck in college brother.
You stare at the picture, noting how young he looked in it and suddenly feel disoriented when you see his arms with no ink around them. They're so bare, and he definitely looked more lean, not like the muscly guy you know him as now. He was starting college here, so he must've been only 19 in the photo... meaning he got his tattoos in the States while he was in college or maybe even later than that?
You click on Jungkook's page, the one that his brother tagged in the photo, but all you see is the default Facebook profile picture and a locked account.
Feeling disappointed at that, you go back to his brother's page and check it out, throwing all your shame away as you look through his photos.
He must've limited his audience since the public posts are all outdated, but there are a few pictures in which Jungkook is in them, as well as other recurring people who seem to be their parents.
There's a recent family picture of them in the Eiffel Tower – uploaded in 2022 – all four of them.
As you see Mr. Jeon, the CEO of your company, with his family, it's hard not to feel... whiplashed, for the lack of better term. From the looks of it, they seem to be... close? For the record, Jimin does not have any casual pictures of him with his parents, and as far as you know, they never went out on trips together – just galas and all that socialite events. You know they are only mere pictures, not solid enough to assume what Jungkook's relationship is with his family, but you're starting to think maybe it's a good one.
That'll honestly be surprising, given that every wealthy family you know has dysfunctional relationships. Nevertheless, it will be quite... adorable if what you think is true.
"Oh my god," you say, disbelieving, as you recognize Jimin in one of Junghyun's public photos while scrolling through more.
It's an event of some sort, and how can you not spot Jimin when he looks conspicuous in his orange hair? You remember this being in your sophomore year in college, and how much Jimin actually hates that hair and wants to burn down every picture that reminds him of it.
You snort as you zoom in on Jimin, taking a screenshot of the photo, mindlessly going to your messaging app; ready to send him the photo to poke lighthearted fun, but then you realize—
"Oh, I can't do that."
Jimin will ask you where you got the photo from, and you'll have to tell him that you were cyber stalking his cousin. Then, he'll ask why you were stalking his cousin, and he will find out the very thing you don't want him to find out.
That makes you frown, quick to delete the message you were just about to send and put your phone back to your nightstand.
Well, that ruins fun.
You wish you can tell Jimin or anyone for the matter, but you currently don't feel comfortable about doing that.
Sighing, you look up at your ceiling, then forcefully close your eyes to avoid more thoughts coming into your head.
You start counting sheep until you fall asleep.
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There had been a lot of times where you felt like shit about yourself. They happen way too many times that at this point, you'd lost count. It wired you to think that there must be something wrong when a day goes all too well.
But there is no beating the feeling of self-antagonism when you ditch somebody – even if it's for a valid reason.
Sure, you've ditched Jimin a couple of times, and he always makes sure to rub it on your face as much as he can until you pout at him and explain to him that there are just some days you do not feel like going out. Jimin, as your best friend, understands that about you, of course.
A lot of times, though, it's the dates you tend to ditch the most. Three dates – you recall – is the number of times you'd skipped out of, just because you had a panic attack thirty minutes before the meeting that one time and two times for the plain, simple fact that you had a realization that you did not really like the guy you were planning to see.
Shin Taemu, the guy from the IT department asked you out last month for a second date and you texted him a last-minute, half-assed lame excuse about having gotten period cramps. Up to this day, you're still wary about using the IT department's copy room because his texts, since then, have been left unanswered. You saw him awhile ago at the cafeteria, though, and he seemed to be treating you non-differently even after you ghosted him suddenly. 
Recently, you're doing the same thing again to Jungkook.
It isn't dating, of course – just the whole ditching thing.
You feel terrible for canceling on him again on Saturday when you just told him Friday night that you would go to that boxing machine. He had texted you a simple "we still on?" with a smiley emoji that gave you the creeps (because that smiley emoji does not ever mean the person is smiling behind it – knowing Jungkook though, it's probably not the case, and you're just overthinking it). You've left that text to rot until Sunday morning, and only picked it up later during the night, telling him you were "sorry I just saw this now! I was swamped with work stuff" even though you've never brought paperworks at home in your whole career and you were just binging The X-Files, bashing those two idiotic emotionally constipated FBI agents when you are quite one, yourself.
Sometimes, you fear you're no better than a man. Jimin will willingly knock your head on a door to get you to your senses and tell you all the things about why you should never compare yourself to them – but there are times like these when your shortcomings – specifically your lack of proficiency in communication – mirror that of a man's, and you hate every single second of it.
Until then, you dreaded for Monday to come.
But it's ultimately inevitable 
And when you wake up from your sleep, it's Monday, and you have to go to work whether you like it or not.
And oh, to add, Jungkook hasn't replied to your message. Which – okay – ouch. But you're not supposed to be hurt by it; if anything, you kind of deserve it after ditching him so many times. He isn't an idiot, and you're sure he knows you lied... you're just thankful that he's not saying anything if he does know, indeed.
You have thought things over in the shower this morning, though.
If Jungkook is three eggs in your basket, why will it matter? So, what's the big deal if he is Jimin's cousin and that he works at the same company and lives in the same apartment complex?
You finally admit that those things matter to you initially because... you have a crush on him. If you didn't, you'll give fuck-all if he's related to your best friend. You won't care at all if he's your boss because you don't have to worry about fantasizing about him.
But the thing is, you do have some sort of romantic feelings for him, and that is why those things moved you in a way that makes you feel and act a little weird around him.
And now there's this feeling of guilt that has overtaken your entire system. Because if you just see Jungkook platonically, these things won't happen. And you hate it, because he's genuinely a good friend. Someone who may want a friend in you too, but you are ruining it all because you have trivial feelings for him.
Absolutely ridiculous.
But now that those realizations have become clear in your head, you've made up your mind by thinking that those eggs don't matter.
It doesn't matter that he's Jimin's cousin, doesn't matter that he's an executive. You are his friend, and it's was okay to have friends that are your other friend's relative and friends who are your boss.
Of course, it's still awkward to think about him catching you in your home clothes but on a more serious note, your crush will never see the light of the day and even if it does, there's no way Jungkook will accept it because guys like him never settle with people like you. And you don't even mean that in a self-deprecating way, not at all! You are just fully aware of the practical world you live in and know that the vast disparity of your economic status will never work, especially with the kind of family he was born into.
With that said, you are ready for things to be back the way they were. No more pussyfooting in the office in fear that you'll bump into him, no more canceling on his innocent invitations to dinner, no more pining over him secretly and putting malice over everything that he does because you're going to be a renewed person now.
You're ready to take on the big shoes and be matured enough to address his questions if ever he has one.
So, you enter the elevator of Blue Nexus Inc. with a sort of spirit that you're sure will be hard to take down, creating pictures in your head that depict a smooth-sailing conversation with Jungkook where you're ideally going to be cool in it and not at all panic-y.
It's alright. Nothing is going to change—
Your thoughts are disrupted when somebody enters the elevator and the people in it suddenly start bowing their heads, a series of greetings reverberating in the confined space.
Fuck.
"Good morning, Mr. Jeon."
"Greetings, Mr. Jeon."
"Mr. Jeon."
Your eyes widen when you see Jungkook walking in with his black suit and sleek black hair, his eyeglasses sitting on his nose.
Okay, so nevermind the illusion that you're going to be cool now – you're absolutely panicking in your position!
Thank fucking god you're at the back with two persons in front of you, hoping they are enough to at least cover your frame as Jungkook stands in front after greeting back the employees inside.
Oh my god. Fuck me.
You tilt your head to the side with a wince on your face, sneakily raising your arm over your head to take your hairclip off so your hair fans your face. It is a poor attempt at covering yourself lest Jungkook suddenly turns around and recognizes you as a result.
But in that moment, you must look stupid as hell that the guy beside you looks at you weird.
You stand upright, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He just snubs you.
That makes you roll your eyes.
You go back to staring at Jungkook's back agonizing the thought that you really aren't ready at all to confront him. You thought about it all morning, but the moment he got here, all those ideations of you being cool around him from thereon are suddenly thrown out the building.
A few seconds after, somebody drops off at the 13th floor, and it starts to make you feel nervous.
What if more people start going out and then you'll be left alone with Jungkook? You intended to go to the 16th floor where your office is... Jungkook is – wait, where is his floor? You actually have no idea. But you are certain it's floors above you. Oh god! How can you possibly move past him without him recognizing you? Shit. You didn't think about that.
Now, you're starting to lose your bottle, your head not able to form ideas to get through him. The elevator is small! And people are starting to head out...
You look at the position indicator of the elevator, telling you that you're going way up to the 15th floor. A few seconds after and it dings, the elevator door opening. The guy in front of you heads way out, and you can see Jungkook still on his spot.
You find yourself not being able to move, completely stoned in your position.
You sure as hell aren't going out unless he does first! That's your solution. If he's located at the topmost floor, you're going to wait until then. You're just going to ride the elevator down again.
But what you don't see coming is Jungkook suddenly moving to head outside the elevator.
Looking at the indicator once again, you confirm if he really is going to the 15th floor.
The door already closed by the time Jungkook is finally out, which eases your nerves. You're way too relieved to forget thinking about why he's in the 15th floor.
You stop at the 16th with a smile on your face, feeling like you just got away with murder. You've never done it – get away with murder – but that's exactly how you feel.
On your way to the office, your phone vibrates from the pocket of your trousers.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [8:56am]: Correct me if I'm wrong but I think I just saw you at the elevator today
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You thought of ways to dodge his bullet, thought about denying his claim and telling him that he must've seen somebody else because you work all the way across town and him seeing you would've been impossible.
But you know the attempts will be futile.
If anything, though, you take it as a sign to finally make things right.
Avoiding Jungkook will never be efficient. In order to be successful in that regard, you'll have to hand in your resignation or move out of your apartment completely and you can't do that.
Besides, for what it's worth, you kind of miss hanging out with him and if you were to continue hiding from him, you will have to say goodbye to having him around at all.
The moment you got off work today, you think of plans to talk to him and maybe, just maybe, invite him for dinner – to, hopefully, make up for all the times you've bailed on him.
With a tail tucked between your legs, you stand apprehensively in front of the door of his unit, still unsure about your plans but doing it nonetheless. There's no going back now.
You ring the doorbell, taking your hand back quickly as if you just got electrocuted by it.
Please don't answer. Please don't be home. Please don't answer—
And there he goes, in his plain white shirt and grey sweats, hair wet from his previous shower – you assume. He's still drying his hair with a towel when he opens the door, but his ministrations stop the moment he lays his eyes on you.
You just give him an awkward smile that probably look more like a grimace.
"Hi."
The surprise is evident on Jungkook's face. Regardless, he is quick to get over it and gives you a big grin instead. An expression you did not expect to get.
"__, hey," Jungkook greets, placing the towel around his neck and letting go of his doorknob. "What brings you here?"
You balance your weight on your other side and purse your lips in a thin line.
"Do you, uh, wanna grab dinner?" You ask right away, not wanting to beat around the bush.
Jungkook's smile somehow grows wider at your question, and you don't know what to feel. If he's petty, he'll reject your invitation but with the look on his face right now, he doesn't seem to have the intention to do so. At least you hope so. It will be so embarrassing for you to have come all the way to his place instead of just asking him through text.
He was about to answer when somebody suddenly approaches the door.
"Jeon Jungkook?" The guy asks, and you immediately shot your eyes to look at him. With his printed shirt that reads a famous food delivery brand and his hands carrying bags of what you assumed take-out food, you figure what he's here for. "Here's your order, sir."
Embarrassed, you scoot to the side to give way to the food delivery guy and let him extend the bags towards Jungkook who grabs his wallet from the pocket of his sweats to pay for the food, thanking the man in the process.
He already has plans for tonight, you realize. Your invitation to dinner is futile because he already bought take-out.
The food delivery guy gave you a look before he took off in which you returned a timid smile for. And then, you turn around to look at Jungkook again.
"Nevermind, don't answer my question." You say, referring to your invitation prior to the arrival of his food delivery. "Uhm, bye. Good night."
You were just turning your heels to go the other way around when Jungkook suddenly speaks.
"Wait, don't go yet," Jungkook steps to the side and inserts his wallet back into his pants. He raises the bags of take-out and arches his brow towards your way, "Do you like Thai?"
"I do." You reply, not really understanding where he's getting at first.
Jungkook smiles. "Good. Do you wanna come inside?"
When you realize what he just said, you shake your head, "Oh, no, no. We could grab dinner outside tomorrow if you're free."
"This is enough for two?"
He's inviting you to his place. Is he insane?
You shake your head once again. "No, Jungkook, I really don't want to impose on—"
Jungkook cut you off with a hearty laugh.
"__, you won't be imposing. Come on, I bet you haven't had dinner yet either." When you don't answer, he insists again, "I think I have Thai tea around here somewhere."
You narrow your eyes at him.
"You think I'll go inside just 'cause you have Thai tea?" you say, raising your brow at him, challenging Jungkook to say something to that. He shrugs with a smile of amusement. Then you break your demeanor and sigh. "You're actually right. I can probably be bribed with daily boba supply."
Jungkook laughs at your absurd claim.
"No matter what's on the line?"
"Yeah," Then you decide to joke a little, "If you're the one on the line."
His laughter only becomes louder, and you shake your head at him because you genuinely wonder why he laughs so much at your nonsensical jokes. You would consider yourself funny but not that funny.
But this is good. Joking is good. This dynamic is surely better than you avoiding him.
"You're so..." Jungkook stops to look at you and you stare back at him. That moment stretches into a minute until you feel the hair on your nape stand.
It's the night air, and not at all the almost intimate way he looked into your eyes.
That's what you'll tell yourself tonight.
"I'm so what?" You decide to break the silence, seemingly snapping Jungkook out of the trance he's put himself in awhile ago.
He shakes his head. "Nothing."
"Okay, now you're just making me curious."
"It's nothing."
"Okay, I'm gonna let it pass this time..." you say, eliciting a low chuckle from him.
He must realize that you've both been standing on his porch for a while now.
"Come," he says, gesturing inside his place.
Your steps are a bit hesitant as you follow him inside. But nonetheless, you both get in, Jungkook offering you a pair of home slipper that are almost twice as big as your feet as he locks the door.
When you let your eyes wander, you're more than surprised to see the state of the interior.
Jungkook's place is surprisingly... clean.
Sure, it must be because there aren't any decorations or much furniture yet, but from your experiences with men, the one thing they have in common is that they are messy. It's almost impossible to not see clothes strewn all over their places or food wrappings on any surface at a corner, but Jungkook's is spotless.
Except maybe for the few boxes that stand beside the door of the room all the way across the room which you assume is his bedroom, but other than that, there's no indicator that a man is residing inside. Admittedly, it's even cleaner than your own.
"Sorry, it's a little messy. I haven't unpacked all of my stuff. Got busy."
He seems to notice you eyeing the aforementioned boxes, and hearing his words, you shake your head.
"Oh, no, trust me. This is the cleanest place I've ever seen." You say truthfully.
"Thanks." Jungkook responds with a smile.
His apartment, like yours, has an open layout so from where you are in the living room, you can see him putting the bags on the kitchen counter, unloading them and starting to transfer some of them into his own plates.
You approach his direction to find yourself useful.
"Is it okay if we eat at the coffee table? My table set hasn't arrived yet..." he rubbs the back of his head, a sheepish smile painting his face.
"It's fine."
His coffee table is wide enough for all the food to fit, anyway. That's what you thought when you bring all the food to the living room, sitting on the floorboards opposite of him.
Before you start dinner, Jungkook asks if you want to watch something on the TV.
"It's like a jumbotron." Is your throw-away comment when he turns on his huge ass TV. It's genuinely so big you aren't even exaggerating. You are not that good with estimation but the screen is probably the same height as you...
"What?" Jungkook chuckles, looking at you all confused.
"Nothing. Just that your TV is so big."
"Yeah? I wanted to buy this one for so long and I got really lucky to get it on sale here. I have the Criterion channel so I've been wanting to watch stuff with an OLED screen—" he cuts himself off and looks at you with a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry."
You look away before you can go on a spiral about how cute he looked with a proud smile on his face while he was going off about how he got his jumbotron on sale. He was geeking out about a freaking TV. But you guess it makes sense for a tech guy like him.
"Uh, what do you want to watch?" He asks, going through his streaming services.
The big TV and the streaming services just click so much in the context of him. You, in contrast, cannot relate. After forgetting to unsubscribe to Netflix a few months ago, it automatically stole the thirteen thousand won from your account, and since then, you're more than traumatized to pay for any streaming services until today. Pirating is bad but so is capitalism.
"Anything is fine."
"Okay."
You really couldn't have cared less about what he's going to click on, but National Geographic pops up on his big screen and you think he must be joking but he starts tuning in with genuine interest.
Oh. Wow.
He's just a big nerd trapped in a hot human body, huh?
How cute. And how unbelievably hot to discover this about him.
After a few minutes into the documentary, it turns out that whales are interesting to a certain degree. Sure, Jungkook's huge ass screen made it a little funny because the pictures are too big, but they did pique your interest a little, especially when Jungkook would add in a little of his own knowledge about them. When you asked him about the weird little stick thing on their mouth, he told you that they were tusks and only male narwhals had them, and that they used it as some sort of sensory tool. He admitted he hyperfixated on whales for a while when he saw them first on Discovery Channel as a kid.
You didn't even have to pretend to be engrossed, you were just in genuine awe of his interests and how enthusiastic he was about sharing them.
Food is starting to run out, making you realize that it's been awhile since you've eaten Thai food and you should probably eat them once again tomorrow.
You're just about to ask Jungkook which restaurant he got it from when he beats you to speaking first.
"You're still in your work clothes."
You stop.
"Yeah..."
And then you're reminded of why you're here in the first place.
It isn't for the whales or for Thai food, that's for sure.
You haven't changed out of your work clothes, indeed, since you planned going out for dinner in hopes of talking to Jungkook while ago. The night is going so well so far that you actually forgot about that. But then since he already cocked the gun, might as well just pull the trigger and get it over with.
You look at him, an uneasy feeling settling in your nerves.
"So... about your text earlier."
There is a hint of a smile on Jungkook's lips when he nods his head.
"Yeah?"
"It wasn't me." You say, trying to look for a reaction, trying to see if he'll insist or anything.
But Jungkook just nods his head again.
"I see."
He does not seem to see, though, and you know right then and there that your cover is finally and officially blown.
"Okay, I lied. That was me." You take back your words, jutting your bottom lip out when you add, "Turns out we work at the same company. And that you're apparently my boss."
"And you're my cousin's girlfriend."
You gasp audibly.
So he knows you were at that party! How? And what? He thought you were Jimin's girlfriend for real? Wait, does he not know it was all Jimin's ruse?
"How did you know that?"
"They mentioned Jimin's girlfriend was in the bathroom when I arrived. I asked Jimin about it and he told me her name was __."
You would face-palm yourself if Jungkook wasn't present.
Ugh. Of course, Jimin doesn't know.
"Well, okay, just so you know, I was a paid actress." You tell Jungkook, which earns you a laugh from him. Then you cover your mouth, realizing you shouldn't have said that. "Oh—uhm, do you know...?" You trail off, looking at him expectantly and hoping he knows what you meant.
You swear you remember Jimin telling you that Jungkook knows about him being gay, but now you are second-guessing yourself and you will be in trouble if you did slip up.
Thankfully, Jungkook nods, seemingly understanding where you're getting at.
"Don't worry, I know." You heave a sigh of relief at his verbal confirmation. Jungkook takes the tom yum goong and started peeling the shrimp from the bowl, continuing to say, "And Jimin brings a fake date to every family gathering, so I knew right away he was lying about dating somebody," Jungkook chuckles, and as if an afterthought, he adds, "I wish I could've seen you act. You two left so early."
Well... you did play a role in that, you think. But you can't tell him you purposefully didn't go back to the table that night because you saw him.
"Oh, Jimin had to send Joon off at the airport." You say, which is actually true. For a change.
He nods. "His boyfriend, yeah... did he go to Italy with him?"
You wonder how he knows about the Italy thing. Jimin, probably. They're close after all—
"Namjoon's a close friend as well." Jungkook adds, as if having read your thoughts.
"Ah," you nod, not surprised at all about their apparent link.
Wealthy people do have a tiny world.
"Jimin hasn't actually contacted me yet since that night."
It has been a few days, and you're starting to think he's dead or something. Your calls go straight to voicemail and your messages do not send. You've sent him a few on social media as well but it seems like he hasn't been online at all.
"I'm worried about him. Has Namjoon said anything?" You look at Jungkook, hoping he'll say yes.
But he shakes his head instead.
"I wouldn't be worried, though. I think they're together."
"In Italy?"
"Yeah."
You won't be surprised if that's the case. Jimin is the king of spontaneity and if he did fly off to another country abruptly with his boyfriend, you won't question it.
You do miss him though and you're gonna make sure to make him feel bad for not telling you anything soon.
"You're right." You sigh.
Jungkook has been peeling shrimp for awhile now, setting them aside in a small bowl. You think he's gonna eat it himself, but you're surprised when he slides off the bowl to your direction.
"There. I noticed you weren't eating the tom yum. You don't like it?" Jungkook asks, smiling at you.
You can't help it; blood rushes to your cheeks at the realization that he just peeled shrimps for you.
Is this normal for him? Like, does he just go around and do things like these for friends?
You will scream in your bathroom later when you get home.
"Oh, no, uh... I'm actually allergic to shrimp." You give him a tight-lipped smile.
You feel bad at the way Jungkook's expression drops as soon as you said that.
"Shit, sorry, I didn't know," He takes the small bowl quickly and looks at you apologetically.
"No, it's fine! I didn't tell you either."
"I'm really sorry. I should've asked first."
"Jungkook," you chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you, anyway."
"I could've done serious damage to you, huh?"
"Yeah, you'd have to tell Jimin you killed me because you fed me shrimp."
"Don't say that," Jungkook laughs. "How long are you friends now, by the way?"
You nip on your chopsticks, answering him.
"We've been friends since college... so almost ten years."
"That's really nice."
And then you remember to ask, "Did you tell him?"
"What?"
"That you know me?"
"No. Not yet, at least. Didn't have the chance." Jungkook proceeds to eat the shrimp himself and you have to keep yourself from letting out a breath of relief at his answer. "Did you tell him?"
"No. Uh— I know this is weird. But... can you not tell him?" You ask. Jungkook looks at you for a bit, studying your face. You clear your throat when seconds passed and he still hasn't said anything. "It's just that I want to tell him on my own time." You decide to add.
"Okay." He says after a while, smiling.
Thank god he doesn't ask any more questions.
"Thanks."
And now there's another elephant in the room that you still need to address.
A bit hesitant, you open with, "Did you uhm..." You think about how to word it, but then you think, fuck it. "Did you know by that time at the party that I work at Blue Nexus?"
Jungkook shakes his head.
"No, I saw you at the company and only put two and two together."
Your brows furrow. "When?"
"Uh... earlier this morning."
"Oh. Yeah..."
You don't know exactly why, but you feel a tinge of disappointment that he meant earlier. You really thought he recognized you at the ceremony.
But then you shake the feeling off and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "Why didn't you tell me about the party, then?"
"Why, did you see me there?"
You shut your mouth. Right. You're supposed to pretend you didn't seen him that time.
"No." You lie.
"So I thought it didn't matter... though I was pretty surprised when I saw you today."
"Ugh, I thought I hid myself pretty well." You lament dramatically, embarrassed that you really thought covering your face with your hair would do you any good.
"Nah," Jungkook shakes his head while laughing at your misery, "I thought, "who is this five-foot woman hiding in the back","
"Wow." You gasp, not believing his audacity. But you're also thankful that he makes talking to him so easy. The way your conversations goes from funny to serious is so seamless, all because Jungkook knows exactly how to turn the wheels around.
"Kidding. I actually recognized you by your blouse..." he gestures at your baby blue polo sleeves, making you furrow your brows, not quite sure how he meant. But then, he continues, "Did the ink ever come off?"
Oh. Right! He had seen you wear the blouse before and even heard you tell him the story about how the jammed printer caused a blot of ink to stain your cuff.
You're surprised he even remembers that. It seems so long ago.
Raising your arm to examine the cuff area of your blouse, you look at it with small amusement.
"Yeah, it did, actually."
"How did you do it?"
You deadpan, "You're not asking me how I do my laundry, Jungkook."
"Hey, I love doing laundry," You raise your brow, not believing him, but Jungkook insists. "No, I really do."
"Okay." You nod, chuckling because he really seems way too eager to prove to you that he loves doing laundry.
What you've found out about him so far is so... mesmerizing, to say the least. With how he looks like – you meant, the tattoos and the body – you would most likely assume he likes guy stuff. You know, big macho man stuff like that. But turns out, he's just a guy who likes big TVs and NatGeo and... laundry.
He's such a fascinating person.
"I'm also not your boss." Jungkook suddenly says, making you look up at him.
"Well, you're CTO, you technically are." You point out.
"Technically, yes. But I don't oversee the accounting department, so you're not really working for me, which means I'm not your boss."
The mental gymnastics make you frown but you get his point.
"Okay, that's true. But still... your father is Mr. Jeon."
"Would you believe me if I denied that?" He jokes, the tilt in his voice telling you he is.
"You kind of look the same, so I probably wouldn't believe you."
"Really? A lot of people say I look more like my mother..."
You've seen the pictures. It's more of a split, really. But you can't tell him that obviously.
Silence sits in his living room for a while, the NatGeo narrator serving as background noise at this point.
You drop your chopsticks down and sigh. Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows, worried about your sudden seriousness.
"So, you're not like weirded out about this whole thing?" You ask him straight to the point.
Joking is good, as you said. And this night is going better than you thought. But it feels like you are just glossing over the facts, and you need to address it with him lest it becomes a problem in the future. You don't know how exactly they are going to be; you just have a feeling in your heart that they are going to.
"The what?" Jungkook says, looking genuinely confused, as if he doesn't know what your deal is.
"The I'm-your-cousin's-best-friend? And the fact that you're an executive at the company I work at and we live in the same building?" You lay out, sounding exasperated now that you're taking it all out.
Jungkook stares at you for a bit.
"Why would that weird me out?"
He isn't being dense, you can see that. He's just plain confused.
You sigh once again. Seems like you've been doing a lot of that these past few days.
"Because it's just... too many eggs in the basket."
Jungkook chuckles, wiping his hands with a tissue. "Isn't it good you have many eggs in the basket?"
You glare at him, and it makes him raise his hands as a peace offering.
"It's bad because..."
"... because?" Jungkook, now with his hands clean, props an elbow on the coffee table, looking right into your eyes as he leans closer to your direction.
You look away.
"Because it means I can't hang out with you anymore."
When you look at him again, the smile is wiped off his face, suddenly exchanged with a frown.
"Why?"
"Because again, it's too many eggs in the basket and—" Running out with metaphors, you say the first thing that was off the top of your head, "That makes you my uncle."
Jungkook's jaw drops a bit.
"Your thought process really amazes me."
You grimace, already expecting that. "Thanks, I get that a lot."
"No, it's really... interesting."
He doesn't look judgmental at all, just full of genuine awe, but you're eager to come to your own defense and so you say, "You don't get it? It's like—" You fling your hands around, trying to explain what you just said. "You don't have a close relationship with your uncle, right? 'Cause it's awkward. When you're with them it's like being with your boss, which means you can't be friends with them 'cause, again, it's awkward."
Jungkook still looks like he doesn't know what the hell you're talking about, but he nods his head, nonetheless.
"Okay... but I have a very close relationship with the CEO..."
You pout. "That's not what I meant."
And when he chuckles at that, you know he's fucking with you and understand exactly what you were trying to say; fooling around as if you aren't having an internal crisis.
Jungkook must've seen how you're genuinely not finding anything funny and stops.
"Is that why you've been avoiding me the past few days?" He raises his brow, but his voice is gentle as he speaks.
You didn't think he'd confront you about that, but you decide to look away when you try to lie as an answer.
"No...?"
Jungkook only chuckle at your indignation.
"Okay, okay, let's divide and conquer, yeah?" He smiles at you. Warm and soft. "First, you're Jimin's best friend, what's the issue? It just means you must be a good person to hang around with because you're friends with the person I'm close to. Second, I'm not your boss, will you please stop saying that? And third, we're neighbors... so what? We just happened to rent in the same building. No big deal."
Your frown just gets deeper at what he said because... he's right. So right.
You overreacted the whole time you tried to hide from him.
With nothing else to add, you weakly ask, "Okay but... can you fire me?"
In your head, it's a relevant question. You don't know how the chain of command worked at the company. He's an executive which probably means he has firing rights, right? What if he finds you too rude towards him over the past few days that he wants to take your job away from you? Can he fire you because of personal vendetta?
"Asking the important question?" Jungkook teases.
"Damn straight, I am. I mean, I did complain to you about my job before, and it turns out you're one of the executives at the company."
"I can see the wheels in your head turning but sorry to say I'm not actually an official executive. I'm just an interim CTO. And no, I don't have the right to fire you," Jungkook chuckles, seemingly amused at your thoughts. "And you can complain to me about your job all you want."
You send him a suspicious look.
"No, thank you."
"Seriously?" He asks incredulously. "Interim CTO or Jimin's cousin or not, I'm still Jeon Jungkook. Just your plain ol' neighbor."
"You say that but what if I arrive to my desk tomorrow with my things packed because you told Ms. Jung all the things I told you about her?" You squint your eyes at him.
"God, you're unbelievable." Jungkook says in between his laughter.
"Okay, but I wanna ask you something." You say. Jungkook hums. "I'm curious... why here?"
It isn't like your apartment complex is abominable or anything of the sort. When you were still on the look-out of apartments five years ago, here was the only decent one that did not cause you a 3-month pay. It's why you chose it in the first place. The unit is big enough for yourself and it's located at the center of the city, which means that it's near establishments that are relevant to your daily living. The bus station is also just a few minutes walk, and it only takes you an hour commute to get to your company building. It was the best out of all your choices back then.
However, for a guy like Jungkook, you wonder why he isn't at the big shot complexes like in Cheongdam or Hannam. You don't doubt he can afford those.
But Jungkook surprises you with his answer.
"It's cheaper."
You can't help but raise your brow.
"What?" And then as if realizing your look, Jungkook chuckles. "Oh, I see... you think I'm, like, rich?"
You shrug.
Jungkook answer with a simple, "My parents are loaded. And anyway, it's near the company. I also really like it here so far. Hannam felt like prison when I stayed there in my first week. Guards were way too strict."
Nodding, you recall Jimin's stories about that gated community when he himself stayed there for merely three months. It makes sense for it to almost seem like prison, though, given that most people who live there are high profile.
"I commute on my way to work. What about you?"
"I bought a parking spot nearby; it's surprisingly cheap compared to America."
You wouldn't know because you've never had a car in your life. First of all, you refuse to apply for a driving license because you're sure you'll kill yourself on the road. Besides, cars are expensive. You'll stick to your buses and trains all your life even though commuting sucks ass sometimes.
But you nod at Jungkook's words.
Soon, you both engage in more conversation about yourselves until you notice the time.
"It's getting late, I should go. I have work tomorrow." You tell him with a pout, genuinely disappointed about having to go.
Jungkook looks over at the clock hanging on his wall and then turns to you, "We have work tomorrow, you mean."
You blush at that for no reason.
"Well..."
"Okay, I'll walk you to your place."
"What?" You laugh. "That's ridiculous."
"What's ridiculous about it? You're so short, the crickets might attack you." Jungkook says with a serious face.
That makes you frown instantly.
"Ugh, you've got to stop saying that. I'm starting to dislike you."
"Hmm."
Jungkook indeed followed you on your way out, though, but not without you insisting that he didn't need to walk you to your door because it was literally just across his, but Jungkook was persistent and you had no choice but to walk the five steps it took to get in front of your apartment from his own.
He's still laughing when your face is still contorted into an unpleasant expression.
"Okay, good night." You say. You point to his chest absent-mindedly, but you quickly take it back when you feel how hard it is. "A-and stop calling me short, I'm not. The __ karma is real, I have Jimin to prove that."
"Fine, I'll stop." Jungkook smiles, watching as you enter your threshold.
"Good."
You stand on your door, leaning over the frame and not closing it just yet.
Jungkook gives you a heart-warming smile before he says, "See you tomorrow."
And he speaks the words so gently that you feel your cheeks heating once again.
"S-see you as well."
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"You look banging in that polo shirt." Jimin says, obviously chatting you up because the moment you accepted his call earlier this morning, you did not hesitate to tell him off about going MIA on you so suddenly.
"It's literally just a plain white polo."
"Okay, and you still look good in it, so..." He shrugs, but you can see the look on his face, sheepish and apologetic.
You scoff.
"You can't compliment me out of sulking. I'm mad at you."
There's a pout that forms on his lips quickly; a tactic so predictable you almost roll your eyes.
"I know... but I told you! Joon and I spent the last week—"
"Fucking each other to Sunday and back, blah blah blah. Still, you could've told me you went to Italy, you slut."
Jimin lets out a loud laugh at your blunt words.
"Slut shaming in the big year of 2028? I thought you were better than that." He shakes his head, pretending to be pointed and curt with the bitchy look on his face. But you know he's just teasing to get you out of your own bitchy mode as well.
It works every time.
You don't fight the way your eyes roll on their own accord as a response this time. Jimin compromises, "Okay, I'm sorry! For not telling. It's just that I've turned off my phone for the past week because I'm sure dad and his secretary are going to blow up my phone— they are, by the way, so cut me some slack."
Forgiveness comes easy when you take into consideration what he's been through for the past few weeks. The spontaneous trip to Italy and him flying along with his boyfriend may come off as immature, but you know deep inside he's just wanting to get away from the reality of his life: which is pretty much toxic family with incredibly high expectations and boring ass management school.
You are certain they are giving him shit, and you don't need to add more to that.
It's 7:20 and you're currently prepping for work. Privacy is almost moot in your friendship with Jimin, so you're quite literally dressing up in front of him on call, sweeping your hair to the side as you pull up your trousers.
"Okay... are you having fun there?" You ask instead.
Jimin smiles a knowing grin. "Babe, I just told you me and my boyfriend are having sex 24/7 in here, I'm having the most fun in my life."
You button your trousers and groan at his words.
"I wish I was also in Italy."
"I mean, you could."
You give him a look.
"And what? Third wheel you and Joon? No thanks."
Jimin just shrugs, the angle of his camera going shaky for a bit as he moves to lay on what you assume is his bed.
"I don't know, girl, maybe you'll find a nice Italian man here."
That earns him a snort from you while you duck to wear your sandals.
"I've long forgotten that fantasy since I was 19."
"You're not a stranger to relapsing..." Jimin clocks and that makes you shoot up straight so he can see the look of incredulity on your face as an immediate reaction to what he just said.
"Rude!"
Jimin just snorts. "Okay but for real, how are things going over there for you?"
You sigh. "Same old, same old. Pretty and single and working a very boring job."
Your best friend can't help but mirror the wince on your face.
"You could change the last two but never the first one, babe. So, you see, you're still miles ahead." He says as a matter of fact, sounding like he's giving out some sort of motivational speech.
"Lucky me," you noted with a straight face. You start rummaging your bag to see if you got everything you need. Then, there's something at the tip of your tongue. Something you've been wanting to open up to him. So, you start by clearing your throat – subtly, you hope.
"But you know, life's pretty... eventful the past few days."
Jimin quirks his eyebrow at that, obviously catching onto what could possibly be a new news.
You bite your lower lip, nibbling on it slightly as you contemplate whether to tell him about what you've been up to.
For some weird reason, you still haven't told him about Jungkook, and it seems like Jungkook has made good on his promise not to tell your best friend because if he did break it, Jimin would be inquiring you all about it now.
You figure now is sort of the perfect time to... maybe tell him.
"Uh, well... not eventful, per se, just a little..." you trailed off, finding a bit of uncertainty in your voice. You see Jimin's face morphing into more of a confused look rather than intrigued as the second passes. Pursing your lips into a thin line, you finish your previous sentence with, "Just a little different, I guess."
"Don't edge me, I swear to god." Jimin threatens playfully, making you chuckle.
"It's not something groundbreaking, okay? It's just the, uh, do you still remember Mr—"
The yawn that Jimin lets out stops you from completing your words, and you remember him mentioning a while ago that it's currently midnight from where he is.
"Ugh," Jimin groans, "Sorry, I slept so late yesterday. Anyway, go on, what were you saying?"
The uncertainty you felt a while ago increases, and you decide that maybe, now is so not the perfect time to bring up Jungkook, his cousin.
So, you shake your head, smiling at him, packing the words of your confession in a box that that you place at the back of your head, ready for unpacking when the time calls for it – which you don't exactly know when.
"Nah, go to sleep. This conversation can wait."
"You're gonna kill me with curiosity."
Rolling your eyes, you make a gesture of shoving him.
"I have to catch up with my bus soon, anyway." You say, dodging his insistence.
"Just tell me pretty please, I won't be able to sleep!" He dramatically says.
You roll your eyes again at the theatrics.
"It's really nothing big."
Well, it is. Sort of. Or maybe it's not, and you're just doing that thing again where you put too much thought over something inconsequential.
You swear you were ready to tell him about Jungkook, having even hyped yourself in the bathroom a few days ago and practicing what you're going to tell Jimin. But as of this moment, right now, it suddenly feels... unimportant. Not in a negative way. Just in a... does-it-really-matter way.
Jimin will find out eventually. But not now when you're not totally ready.
"I know what this is," Jimin suddenly says. At his suspicious tone, your heart starts to pick up the rate of its beat. You can see the way Jimin squints his eyes at you, and you wish he doesn't see the way you're slightly frozen. "You got back with your ex, Hansung."
You hope he sees the disgust on your face the moment he let out the words.
"Oh my god, hell no!" Is your instant response. Just hearing that name again made the hairs on your nape rise. "Jimin, what the fuck."
Jimin rolls his eyes. "You look so nervous, that's how you look like when you're about to tell me you've done something stupid."
Okay, fair. The assumption is coming from a valid basis. It makes you frown at him.
"You're such a bitch." Jimin laughs at the way you deflate. You let out a sign. "It's just... Taemu. From the IT dep."
"That guy?!" He exclaims and quickly covers his mouth. "The cute guy you refused to date a second time... you're finally dating him again?"
"What do you mean, finally?" You narrow your eyes at him, surprise at the positive comment about Taemu. "Jesus, I thought you were with me when I said I found him boring."
"What can I say? He can be cute and boring." He points out, as if he did not talk behind the Taemu's back when you ranted about the guy to him.
"You're fake as hell." You laugh, unbelieving.
Jimin joins your laughter, finding his sudden switch up funny as well.
"But you're, for real, dating him again? It means he still likes you?" He asks, obviously intrigued at this newfound information.
Unfortunately, it's a bit of a lie. You feel bad, but it is a great scapegoat to dodge the bullet of the conversation about Jungkook.
"I don't know... we're talking."
Which, for once, is true. Taemu and you did not exactly end on a good note (courtesy to you, boo), but you work in the same company, after all. There are times in the company's cafeteria where you bump into him, and it would have felt weird if you just snub him and act like you did not have an acquaintanceship before he asked you out to a date. Taemu's ultimately still your friend, and there are no hard feelings on his part, you can confidently say. He's... nice, you guess. Somehow of an afterthought. You're starting to think you completely misjudged him on your first date.
You take a quick trip to the fridge to grab a glass of cold water since Jimin is on loudspeaker anyway.
"That reminds me," Jimin suddenly quips. You hum to acknowledge him. "My cousin now works at your company, right? You still remember Jungkook? Have you met him yet?"
You couldn't help it; the water splattered all over the place when you heard Jungkook's name from his mouth.
Jimin quickly asks you a series of "are you okays" and you respond with a "yes" that's interrupted with a cough every time; a weak nod with a raised hand, telling him not to worry.
"Water just got in the wrong track." You reason, coughing and slapping your chest to regain your breathing. When you see wet spots on your shirt, you let out a whiny groan.
"You're so jumpy today. You're sure you're fine?" Jimin checks once again, and you have to bite your tongue to not show the way you froze a little at his observation.
You nod at him, showing him an expression that hopefully conveys he's the one being weird and definitely not you.
"Yeah, it's fine." You look down on your shirt. You're debating whether to stick with it and just let it dry in the bus later or completely change out of it. "But uh, your cousin! I did see him. We had a ceremony a week ago."
You would've said that with a smile, but Jimin knows you too well that he'll surely know it's fake. So, you spoke with an almost straight face. What Jimin says next surprises you a bit, though.
"I hope you meet each other," Jimin's excitement is visible on his face. "It'd be kinda fun; my closest cousin and my best friend... imagine that? I think you'll like each other." He seems to be so geeked about the idea that even when you're internally having a crisis, you can't help but find it cute. But then his smile gets wiped off his lips just as quickly as it showed. "It'd be awkward, though. He's, kinda like, your boss, right?"
You suddenly remember Jungkook's words about him not being your boss. It makes your lips curl, but you have to shake off the thought.
You give him a hesitant look.
"Well, not really, but he's an executive. So... it would be awkward. I guess."
Jimin nods, agreeing with you.
"It's crazy though, I never thought he'd be working at uncle's company so soon..." He trails off and he looks deep in thought, like his words were just supposed to be inner thoughts and you're not supposed to hear them. But he shakes his head after a while, moving on to another subject that makes you quietly sigh in relief. "Anyway, I'm sure I'm keeping you up. I'll sleep and you better tell me all about Kang Taemu when I wake up, okay?"
You chuckle, shaking your head at the threatening tone of his voice.
"I will. When will you come home, anyway?"
He groans, obviously not wanting to discuss home for the reasons you know exactly what. He confirms your assumption by telling so.
"Honestly, I don't know. I'm trying to avoid responsibilities as much as I can. God, I wish you were also here. There's a bar Joon and I discovered that sells these insane bottomless mimosas."
Before you could reply, Jimin goes off the frame suddenly, but the lower part of his face makes you see the way his lips curling up into a smile and saying, "Hey, hon."
There's a greeting from another person on the other end of the line – one that you are certainly familiar with.
Jimin moves his camera and as expected, you see Namjoon waving at you.
"Hey, __,"
You mirror the smile on his face. "Hi, Joon."
"Let's not keep her up. She has to go to work," Jimin tells Namjoon. "Anyway, bye. Kick some ass at work."
Laughing, you tell them, "I'll be off. Good night to you both."
When the call ends, you look down to your shirt once again, seeing that the little wet spots still haven't dried yet. Sighing, you decide to change out of it because it looked untidy.
Too bad you didn't check the time when you were doing it though, because as soon as you were done buttoning the new shirt you've worn, the clock hits 7:55 am. You bus arrives at exactly 8 am.
"Shit." You hiss, scrambling out of the apartment hoping that you can somehow run your way fast to the station and hop on it on time.
But you're no The Flash or Usain Bolt. To piss you off more, the strap of your bag got caught up with the handle of your door.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You whisper, hastily untangling the strap off the door which won't let up.
"__?" As soon as you hear the familiar voice, you stop with what you were doing and turn to Jungkook, conjuring up a what you can only hope a pleasant enough smile.
"Hey!" You say, chirpy in that weird way. You hope he didn't catch you cursing the door.
But with the way he was looking at your hand on your door, you knew he did.
Sigh. He just really has to catch you in your most vulnerable moments, huh?
"Good morning," Jungkook greets with a smile, ignoring the case at hand. As usual, he looks put together with his sleek suit and styled hair and eyeglasses.
"Morning," You say, slowly taking off the strap around the handle, gentle and slower this time.
Fucking door handle, you thought bitterly.
As you do that, you catch a glimpse of your wristwatch. Shoot.
You look back at Jungkook apologetically, moving away from your porch. "Nice seeing you. I have to catch my bus."
"When is it coming?"
"At exactly... two minutes from now. Bye! Gotta run!" You were about ready to literally run but Jungkook calls out your name.
"Wait!"
You stop coming down the flight of stairs to ask him, "What?"
"I can drive us together there."
"Oh," You slap your hands on your trousers. "That's so nice of you. Thank you—" And then suddenly, his words register, and you take back your quick agreement. You hate that you're so slow sometimes, but it's innate at this point. "I mean, no! That's a nice offer, but no, thank you."
"You won't catch your bus at this point," Jungkook says as a matter of fact, even taking a quick glance at his own watch. He begins to walk down the stairs to walk with you. "It only takes thirty minutes to drive by car to the company." When it takes you long to answer, Jungkook insists, already predicting the "no" that you're going to hit him with. "Come on, do you want to be late?"
"No."
Jungkook smiles at you. "Okay, so...?"
You purse your lips into a thin line, blowing your bangs and giving him a sheepish look.
"Okay, fine. But I owe you."
The smile on his face only grows wider. "More than fine by me."
He leads you both to the parking building nearby where his car was, only taking about a few minutes to walk towards.
When Jungkook points at his car, you follow his behind him shortly, stopping on the one side of the door. You're just about to open it when you feel Jungkook looming behind you, his hand extended forward to open the same door. You stretch your neck to look at him in question, making sure to keep a decent distance between you both.
"Uh...?" You utter.
And then it hits you.
He's trying to open the door for you.
You take a step back after the realization, feeling shy about the prospect of such a chivalrous act from him.
"This is the driver's seat."
"Oh!" You exclaimed. Eyes widening, you walk backwards to give him more space. "Yeah! Fuck... sorry," You apologize, cheeks starting to heat in embarrassment.
You round about the car and enter the passenger seat quickly, seeing Jungkook already set in his own place. You look to the side, almost pressing yourself to the window just so he won't see the way you wince.
So fucking embarrassing. This is exactly what you write about in your diary during high school days.
"Your seatbelt," Jungkook says, and you look at him with widened eyes. Right. You were way too deep in embarrassment that you forgot about it. You fiddle with the seatbelt a few seconds before he speaks once again, "Let me."
And you couldn't have stopped him from leaning closer to you to grab the seatbelt and wear it around your waist, carefully and gently, making you hitch your breath at the sudden proximity.
Of course you've noticed it way before, but this is the first time you were close enough to deduce that he smells like green apple and fresh laundry. A little different from the musky scent that you were used to smelling on men that you've been with before.
"There." He smiles at you before sitting back on his chair, wearing his own seatbelt.
You are way too stunned to acknowledge what he did that for the first few minutes, you're just quiet, mind flying to some place. You only snap out of it when Jungkook speaks again.
"Slept late last night?"
You shake your head at his question. "No... just facetime with Jimin this morning. You were right to tell me not to worry, he's with Joon."
Jungkook nods at your words, turning the ignition of the car. He starts to reverse, and you feel yourself growing embarrassingly hot when he does the thing of putting his arm around the back of your seat while the other spins the wheel, stretching his neck to look back.
You decide to look away for your own sake.
"Uh, anyway, I'm really sorry."
"Hm?" Jungkook hums, eyes on the road as he starts driving.
If you think about it, you were just at his place a few nights ago eating dinner with him, and now, you somehow find yourself in his car as he drives you both to work. His constant kindness is not lost on you... but Jungkook's casualty makes it seem like this is just his plain nature.
You quirk your head to the side.
"Are you free later for lunch?"
"I can arrange my sched. Why?"
"Do you want to go together?" You ask. You'd say the offer is a form of compensation for his help today, but getting lunch together for the pure sake of it doesn't sound bad, either. Both works, so you're only a bit hopeful as you try to look for his reaction.
Jungkook has a hint of surprise on his face when he takes a quick look at you before turning his attention back on the road.
"Really?" There's a little lilt to his voice, as if he's not surer if you're being serious.
You shrug to appear casual. "If you're not too busy, that is."
He shakes his head, smiling. "Where are we going?"
"You're gonna find out later." You tell him. Jungkook cocks his head to the side, intrigued.
"Okay... where should I meet you, then? At your office?"
"Oh, god, no." Is your quick response. Jungkook immediately looks at you in offense, but it's more like amusement when he stares longer. At that, you wave your hand so he doesn't get the wrong idea. "No, no, I mean— it's just rude if an executive, like, comes to our office."
"You're still not hung up on the boss thing?" You roll your eyes at his teasing tone which earns a hearty chuckle from Jungkook. He shakes his head playfully at you. "I doubt anyone would care."
You jut your bottom lip out because he's probably right. But still, your co-workers would ask, and you're not trying to dig yourself a hole by making yourself news of the day because the newly appointed interim CTO just walked into your office for what? Lunch? The HR would have a field day.
"Maybe we can meet at the parking lot?" You offer, thinking it's the sensible place.
Jungkook smiles. "Alright."
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You had to stay behind Joonhwi and Sol as lunch came, making an excuse about going out with a friend as opposed to not coming with them. In your head, you think you were doing Joonhwi a favor.
After that, you were welcomed with text from Jungkook when you turned on your phone. It said he was already at the basement where he parked earlier, so it wasn't exactly hard to spot him right away the moment you got there.
The drive to your destination was quick enough to only amount to around fifteen minutes. As soon as Jungkook managed to park his car somewhere, you lead him to where the place you'd chosen for lunch.
When he finally registered where you were, his amusement does not go unnoticed.
"I've always wanted to go here," He tells you, looking around the stores in-line by the street.
You look back at him in surprise.
"You haven't been here?" Jungkook nods and you want to ask him if he's kidding around, but then you realize he's no ordinary person like most of the people you know in your life, recalling that Jimin's first time in a marketplace like this was only when you introduced him to it during sophomore year. "But you eat street food, right?" You ask him, even though you know he does. You did spend nights on that food truck around your building.
"Of course I do," Jungkook chuckles, rubbing a hand at the back of his head, seemingly shy. "I just never tried it here."
You give him a wide grin. "You're gonna enjoy it here. Follow me, I have a favorite store here that sells really good hotteok."
You spent the better part of the morning thinking about the place where you can bring him, opting out of going to cafes and restaurant because it was just getting kind of old. Aside from the fact that you stopped going to the food truck across your apartment building, it's also been a while since you enjoyed some street food yourself. You're also delighted to know that this is apparently Jungkook's first time going here.
The area is usually livelier in the later hours of the night, but there are still a lot of people by lunch time. Students, civilians, tourists... a usual day in Seoul, you can say.
When you reach the hotteok stall, you ask for your usual right away, almost asking the same thing for Jungkook but remember that he might actually want something else.
"Do you want other flavors instead?" You look back at him while he stands behind you with his hands in his pockets. He's forgone the coat – it's somewhere in his car seat – which left him with his usual polo shirt, sleeves folded up to his forearms. He kind of looks broody with his stance and you know... the exposed tattoos – but he looks adorable when he gives you that familiar easy-going smile at your question.
"I'll have whatever you're having."
You're hungry for a while now so you don't wait a long time to take a bite of the hotteok when it's finally served. It's hot, and Jungkook laughs as you learn it the hard way, sputtering as you move the food away from you.
"Fuck!" You curse, blowing air and fanning your mouth which doesn't really do anything.
"Slow down," Jungkook says in between his chuckles. You feel his arm resting on your back as some sort of support. "I'll get you some water."
It only takes him a few seconds to stop by a nearby stall to get you some bottled water, and you thank him after drinking it quickly.
"Sorry 'bout that," You apologize, smiling sheepishly.
"There's a—" Jungkook gestures at his mouth. You arch your brow at him, a bit confused. He tries again. "Something in your—" He interrupts himself, shaking his head, and takes out a handkerchief from the depths of his slacks.
Your immediate reaction is to take a few steps back when he goes to wipe at your mouth. Jungkook stops, pausing his movement. You give him an awkward thumbs up which prompts him to continue.
"Done."
You choose to gloss over that occurrence, taking another bite of hotteok after that.
"You know I always wondered why I don't see you going out of your apartment every morning." You start a conversation while you walk together mindlessly.
"You wonder... why?" Jungkook looks at you for a brief moment. With a teasing grin, he says, "You wanna see me every day?"
You gasp.
"Gross, Jungkook." You say, absolutely scandalized at what he said.
He just laughs, shaking his head, amused at your reaction. It makes you roll your eyes.
"I just figured you don't commute so you don't need to leave early." You tell him.
You notice he seems to be extra playful today.
"Oh, yeah, that's right."
"Lucky you. I'm so sick of commuting."
"You don't like driving?"
You shake your head, "I don't know how to drive, and I don't have any intention to."
"I think I've heard that from Joon before." Jungkook chuckles.
"Oh yeah, he told me one time he'll most probably kill himself if he drives. Which– same."
Jungkook bites on his hotteok, chews on it for a while before saying, "That's what I thought when I started to drive a motorcycle."
You almost snap your head to look at him.
"You drive a motorcycle?" You ask, just to be sure you heard him right.
Jungkook nods. "Hm."
"Oh, wow... that must be..." You trail off, looking blankly ahead of you.
Well, now you can't get it out of your head. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with his tattoos out. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with a leather jacket.
Ugh. You told yourself you were gonna forget about the stupid crush! This is so counterproductive. There's nothing special about a man who drives a motorcycle! Not at all.
"Must be...?" Jungkook curiously asks you.
"Nerve-wracking." You say, which you think is a fair answer. He doesn't have to know that you're thinking about a totally different thing.
He nods. "It was for the first time. Mom always gives me an earful whenever I use it." He shakes his head while laughing.
You can't help but ask.
"You're close with your mom?" It only registers to you that the question must be way too privy, but Jungkook doesn't seem to think so as he answers casually right away.
"Yeah. She was really glad when I came home."
You smile. You once thought he's close with his family... turns out you aren't exactly wrong.
"That's sweet."
He just gives you a soft smile. "You?"
"Oh, me? She, uh, died awhile ago. So."
The smile on Jungkook's face falters.
"That... sucks."
"Thanks." And then it makes you laugh. "You know most people say sorry. You're the first one to say it sucks."
"I..." Jungkook seems to track back on what he said. "I mean, I'm sorry, of course. But it must suck, right? I just... love my mom a lot. Can't imagine losing her."
You nod, completely understanding where he's coming from.
All your life, people have always felt sorry for you for losing your mom, your only parent. Of course, you're thankful for the sympathy, but sometimes... you just need someone to be real with it. Someone to say it sucks – because losing a parent is hard. Losing a mother suck.
"You're not so bad, Jungkook." you comment after a while, and as you take a quick look at Jungkook, you see him in another light. The same light you see a person in when you figure you want to befriend them and be in their life.
"What do you mean by that?" Jungkook asks with an arched brow.
You shake your head, smile not going away.
"Nothing!"
Jungkook annoyed you some more about it and you had to laugh at his curiosity because it was funny the way he insisted about something really inconsequential. Even when you went to another stall to buy some drinks, he still tried to bring up the same thing, but you're more stubborn than him so of course his efforts did not bear any fruit.
After a while, you sit on some bench while you eat tornado fries.
"I don't like this." You say, looking at your stick and frowning. Turning to Jungkook, you extend your tornado fries to him. "Try this one."
He takes a bite from your own stick. Surprisingly, he seems to like it.
"You wanna exchange?" He offers his cheesy tornado fries in exchange with your sour barbecue-flavored one. You nod, taking it from him. Jungkook chuckles at you. "I told you to get that one."
"I was feeling experimental." You tell him simply.
When you were in front of the stall, you told him how you didn't like sour barbecue at all but still wanted to give it a try. Obviously, that did not go well. Good thing Jungkook bought the cheesy flavor, though.
From your peripheral vision, you see a group of what seems to be a group of teenage girls sitting on the bench across from you. Judging from the very familiar uniform, they're in high school. They've been there for a while now and you notice they've been stealing glances at your direction.
You glance at Jungkook and snort.
"Looks like someone here has some admirers from Seoul High School." You tease Jungkook. He does not seem to notice the girls at all, looking at you with confusion first before turning his head to look across.
In a second, Jungkook turns uncomfortable in his seat.
"That's Seoul High School?"
You laugh at the obvious way he ignores them looking at him. Still, you nod your head at his question, "Yup. Went there."
You subtly look at the girls' direction again, catching them do the same and you can just see Jungkook's ears getting red by the second, visibly embarrassed at the unwanted attention.
"That's just across my high school." He casually says, trying so hard not to mind the girls.
"No way!" You gasp. "Yongsan International?"
He nods.
"The cheerleading teams on both schools used to have, like, this big beef before, you know that?" You tell him, ready to lay out the huge gossip that happened in your batch. And then you remember, "Oh. You've probably graduated when I entered senior year in high school."
Jungkook gives you a look. "Rude. I'm not that old."
The sass comes unexpectedly which makes you laugh out loud you almost choke on the fries.
You were just about to tease him some more when somebody approaches you both.
"U-uhm..."
When you both look at the girl, she's one from the group who was shamelessly looking towards your direction, which is obviously aimed at a specific someone by your side, Jungkook.
"Hi!" You greet cheerfully.
The girl blushes and then turns to Jungkook.
"O-oppa..." She utters, hesitant when she pulls something out of her skirt pocket. It's a small, crocheted sunflower.
You coo at the sight, looking at Jungkook in amusement. The man beside you just grow more uncomfortable in his seat. He looks so constipated, god bless him.
"My friend told me to give this to the eonni beside you."
Your smile is quickly wiped off your face the moment her words sink in, confusion slowly coming to paint your expression. You look at the girl but before you can say anything, she's already walking away as soon as Jungkook takes the crocheted flower from her. You watch as she and her friends ran, their figures slowly disappearing from your line of sight.
"Looks like you got admirers from Seoul High School." Jungkook quips beside you. "For the eonni beside me." He teases, extending the cute little flower to you.
Hesitantly, you take the flower from his hands.
"You know, it suits you." Jungkook says when you don't say anything, still stunned from the literal turn of events.
You look up, baffled. "Huh?"
"A sunflower. It suits you... you're like it." He smiles, soft and gentle. There's a look of fondness in his eyes that you couldn't have mistaken for anything else. "I'm glad they gave that to you."
You open your mouth to speak, but there's nothing at the tip of your tongue.
Shying away from his gaze, you mumble a low, "Thank you."
You don't think you hear his next word right.
"Cute."
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You have a hobby of collecting hobbies instead of focusing on one thing to be good at, jumping from one activity to another, even if it means abandoning your previous thing. Hobbies for most people means time lent to be better with it every day, but in your defense, you don't necessarily think you have to be good at something.
You've tried drawing. You've tried dancing. You've tried the guitar and you've tried the ukelele and you've tried crocheting and you've tried to study astrology. You've built three huge boxes of storage containing the needed materials for each of them, but they end up collecting dust.
Why can't a hobby just stay as a hobby, anyway? Why can't you just feel goofy one day to suddenly start drawing and give up the next day the moment you realize shading is hard? Why can't you just buy dress patterns and only sew the skirt part because tops are complicated to sew? Why can't you just learn four guitar chords because it's enough to play at least five songs using them?
None of it matters, you think. People will pressure you to push and push until you can possibly capitalize on something you're good at, but it just isn't the case for you.
You'll collect all the hobbies in the world until your head is full of random things and you just burst with it.
And true to your words, you find yourself wandering about in the baking aisle of your local grocery store at the late evening hours.
Yep. It's 2028 and your hobby pick for the year is baking.
So, what if you're a disaster in the kitchen? Cooking and baking are two different worlds! At least that's what Google tried to tell you a while ago when you were cleaning your bathroom earlier this morning, suddenly craving for some matcha cookies after you were done.
It sounded about right in your head that you decided to pick up ingredients for it, deciding it will be your dinner. At the back of your head, you think you should've just gone to the hundred cafes surrounding your apartment complex like, you know, any regular person would if they're craving something. But you figured that if you know how to bake, you could get matcha cookies anytime you want.
What can you say? You like to live life on edge. (You'll probably burn yourself in the oven later, but that will just be another lesson that life is soon to give you. You're just taking it in advance.)
But living on edge doesn't mean getting your card declined when you turn it to the cashier to supposedly pay for your grocery.
"I'm so sorry, uhm, can I have a few seconds, please?" You tell the cashier, giving her an awkward smile as you grab your wallet from your tote bag again, taking your card from her. You take another one of your debit cards this time and offer it to her, subtly looking around in hopes that no one is watching.
"Oh, we don't accept debit cards issued by this bank, ma'am." She says, and you're just about ready to dig yourself a hole from this complete, utter embarrassment.
"Okay..." you trail off nervously, glancing at the computer to look at your total. "I'll just pay in cash."
You do not, in fact, have enough cash.
You can tell the cashier is getting impatient from the way she shifts her weight from one side to another, and you keep yourself from making eye contact with her, fumbling with your wallet.
Three hundred and sixty-five days in a year and your card chose to decline on this very particular day. Why don't they accept your debit card? And why don't you have enough cash with you? Are you really this broke?
This is going to be a disaster. You can't afford to go to prison for this. Can you even go to prison for not paying grocery? Okay, maybe jail time for like 12 hours? But you have work tomorrow!
"Excuse me, miss,"
Somebody says but you refused to look at whoever it was, still counting the bills in your wallet that do not even accumulate to half the amount of your total.
"You can charge her bill here."
At that, your head quickly snap to the owner of the voice only to reveal himself as no other than Jeon Jungkook.
You swear you almost sigh in relief at the sight of him and have the sudden urge to hug him big time.
Jungkook looks at you and gives you a smile.
"Hi."
"Jungkook," you breathe. "Thank god you're here."
The cashier looks at you both weirdly but nonetheless swipes the card Jungkook gave her., instructing him to type his code on the key pad. There's nobody in line for the cashier you went to other than you both because it is too late an hour to be getting groceries, so Jungkook is able to butt in seamlessly and get his cart checked out as well.
"You're very much welcome." He says warmly.
Jungkook's dressed just as casually as you; a combination of simple white t-shirt and shorts and a pair of sliders. His grocery contains a lot different than yours, showing all sorts of food ingredients. You wait for his stuff to get bagged until you both head out of the store.
His car was just parked nearby, so you follow him towards its direction to apologize.
"I'm so, so sorry for earlier. I'll pay you later when we get home, of course." You say, just now registering how embarrassing it is for him to catch you in that situation. You're no stranger to getting your card declined... but really, now?
You decide to add awkwardly, "Or... do you have Kakao Pay?"
Jungkook chuckles while he opens his trunk, picking up his bags of groceries to place them in there. He shakes his head, keeping his hand outstretched to upwards to hold the hood of his car.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it."
You're about to speak in protest when he gestures at the bag in your hands, as if asking you to place it in the trunk as well. You shake your head repeatedly.
"No, it's okay, I'm just gonna take a cab home." You say, pointing to your back where the street is, politely refusing his obvious offer to drive you home.
He's done too much in the span of ten minutes you've seen each other tonight. He's paid for your groceries for heaven's sake, and he still has the intention to drive you again to your destination? Not adding the fact that he also just drove you to work yesterday to keep you from being late. It's like he's just doing you heaps of favors and so far, you've done nothing in return.
"__, please, I'm offering." Jungkook insists. As usual. "I really don't mind."
Shoulders deflating, you let out a sigh.
"It's just that..." You start, nibbling on your bottom lip.
"What?"
"You've just been doing me a lot of favors lately." You say, looking away from his gaze.
Jungkook calls your name gently. You train your gaze at him. He steps closer to you and gives your shoulder a soft tap. "Hey, I'm not counting."
The words in itself aren't all that special, but the way he said it and the way he looked at you while he did may have just did a little damage to your heart because why did it seem so genuine?
Still, you shy away.
"It's just really embarrassing." You say, out of argument now.
Jungkook lets out a sound of amusement and takes the bag from your hands. He didn't even give you the chance to protest before he managed to put it successfully in the trunk of his car, together with his own groceries.
"Why don't you pay me back by helping me make dinner tonight?" Jungkook muses.
You give him a weird look.
"You really want me in a kitchen? Have you not listened to my horror stories this whole time, Jungkook?"
He laughs as he leads you both inside his car. You follow quietly behind but this time, you don't mistake the passenger seat from the driver's seat and instantly wear your seatbelt as soon as you're sat.
"I dunno, I'm just offering. I thought it'll be fun." He shrugs, turning on the ignition of the car and starting to drive back to the apartment building.
"Okay, I can at least chop some onions and garlic..." You trail off. And then you remember as an afterthought, "Oh, I'm actually baking tonight as well."
Jungkook takes a quick surprise glance at you. "You never told me you know how."
You snort. "I don't know how, trust me. I'm just starting right now."
"Is that why you went out grocery shopping tonight?" He arches a brow.
"Yep. Totally a spontaneous thing. I wanted, like, this very specific matcha cookie..."
Jungkook laughs. "Should I help you with the baking as well? I might learn from you."
"Really? You want to help?" You ask him delightfully.
He nods, making your grin wider.
"Sounds fun."
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You both agreed to cook and bake at his place, partly because you personally are not ready for him to see your own flat. When you get inside his unit, Jungkook cutely bragged about his table set that just arrived earlier this morning according to him.
Personally, you've barely cooked at your own place let alone somebody else's. The one time you were in someone else's kitchen was Jimin's but even then, it was just to microwave some pizza and other take-out food.
It should feel weird to be prepping ingredients with someone, to move around the kitchen with the goal to make yourself a homecooked meal – especially with somebody like Jungkook – but truthfully, it felt almost... natural. Probably because you're conversing casually while you're doing things so there isn't any awkward silence.
You're making tangsuyuk, according to him, and he's obviously taking the lead – expertly prepping the meat while you go chop some spices needed for the dish.
"Is this okay?" You ask, showing him your work. You hope he likes it because you're kind of under a weird pressure to be in here, helping him. Also, you're not sure if you minced the garlic right.
But Jungkook just gives you a hearty smile.
"Good girl."
And goes back to what he's doing as if he just said nothing.
Which—okay, he seemed to have unconsciously said it that now you're gaslighting yourself whether you heard him right or not. Did he really say what you think he just said? What the fucking fuck.
Thankfully, Jungkook's too busy to notice that you become a bit frozen in your position for a good ten seconds. If he truly didn't mean to say that, he needs to get those words out of his vocabulary before he sends you in a sudden cardiac arrest. It'd be the most mysterious death of humanity.
"Do you need the carrots?" You ask, raising the vegetable in your hand.
Jungkook nods and you start to peel it. He watches by your side when you begin slicing the carrot.
"Cut them into Julienne slices."
"Huh?" You look back at him. "Not the cooking jargon, Kook." You deadpan, the nickname seamlessly coming out of your mouth.
He apologizes and tells you exactly what he meant. You furrow your brows in concentration to achieve what he wants, but Jungkook just laughs beside you.
"Okay, let me just—"
He's behind you a second after that, towering over your form and circling his arms around you. Your breath hitches as Jungkook places his hand on top of yours – the one that holds the knife – and begins to guide you through slicing the carrot.
You can feel his breathing from the proximity of your position, and even though there's still distance between the both of you, it's only hairsbreadth away and frankly, the ridges of the front of his body are so prominent against your back.
Jungkook does not seem to face the same internal panic as you though, because as soon as he deems that you are staring to get it, he steps back and let you do the thing on your own.
He leans back on the countertop, crossing his arms while looking at you.
"You're not so bad at this like you claimed." He comments.
You feel your cheeks heating up, so you focus your full attention on the carrot, your hands seemingly having developed a mind of their own throughout the time. Well, at least it's doing the right job. You can only hope you don't slice through your fingers... imagine cutting them right into this very moment.
"This is a trauma response from watching too much Gordon Ramsay."
Jungkook chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.
"We're just gonna wait for another thirty minutes for the meat and the mushroom. Should we start baking? What do we do first?" He says, washing his hands first before walking towards your direction.
You take your phone out from your pocket, looking at him a bit apologetically as you say "sorry" for pulling up Google. For the record, you haven't memorized shit and this is your first time baking.
Jungkook shakes his head, telling you there's no need for apologies because he "can't bake for shit" himself. That makes you feel relieved. You thought he's just good at a lot of things.
You don't encounter any trouble while mixing the dry ingredients, but when it comes to the wet ones, you think you've done something wrong. Jungkook tells you to try it. When you dip your finger into the mixture and taste it, you automatically scrunch your face.
"What, why?" Jungkook asks curiously.
"I don't think this is quite right..." You say, looking down at the mixture sadly.
"Mayve we can add more vanilla...?" He takes the bottle with him, ready to pour some into the bowl.
You pout. "But it says one teaspoon and we already put one teaspoon."
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know... give up?"
Jungkook chuckles as he says your name.
You sigh. "Okay, maybe we'll try some that."
You do as you say, and as you taste it again, you're delighted to notice the elevated flavor. Mindlessly dipping your finger again into the bowl, you offer it to Jungkook to try.
The very act just sinks into your head when he leans down to suck it off your finger.
It happened quick, not at all sensual and slow like the movies make it out to be, but you feel your heart rate picking up at the feel after-effect of Jungkook's hot tongue touching your skin. But as you look at him, his eyebrows are furrowed, assessing the taste, not at all in a trance by what just happened.
"Oh, definitely better." He comments, as if he didn't just... suck your finger?
... Which you offered.
That he took willingly.
You turn away from him and pretend to busy yourself with the electric mixer, fumbling with the paddle.
"Are you cooking the tangsuyuk yet?" You ask, changing the subject. Jungkook is completely unaware of the current chaos in your head, walking towards the refrigerator to take out the pork he marinated earlier and the bowl of mushrooms.
"Just tell me if you need help." He tells you, touching the small of your back as he passes by you to get to the stove.
You feel your cheeks heating at the touch, moving aside to let him start frying the meat with the batter he's busied himself with awhile ago.
"Shit!" You say, surprised at the sudden whir of the machine. Jungkook quickly looks at you. You laugh and give him a thumbs up. "I'm fine here!"
You both work together on your own thing, and when you let the dough to rest, Jungkook, at the same time, finishes frying the meat of the tangsuyuk. You don't want to feel useless while you don't have anything to work on, so you peer over what Jungkook is doing and ask him if you there's anything he needs.
"Do you want to make the sauce?" Jungkook asks you. You scrunch your nose and hesitantly nod. He seems to notice your uncertainty and chuckles. "I'll teach you."
"Okay, but don't blame me if it tastes like shit later, okay?" You warn but he just shrugs and laugh, telling you that he'll talk you through the process and there's no need to be nervous. You can just experiment with it a little, he says.
You've watched a lot of Hell's Kitchen episodes that you have this silly, unrealistic expectation on what goes on in kitchens, but thankfully, Jungkook isn't like Gordon Ramsay at all and is so unbelievably gentle in teaching you even when you almost spilled soy sauce on the countertop and put too much vinegar than needed. He shrugs your worries off by fixing the thing, thankful that when he offers you the ladle to taste the sauce from it, it's more than decent.
While Jungkook prepares the tangsuyuk for your dinner, you take the time to form your cookie dough into small circles, leaving it in the oven to bake while you follow Jungkook into the living room and start eating the food that you cooked – or he cooked.
Jungkook teases you that you lied about not being good at cooking, but you have to remind him you didn't do shit and only the bare minimum. He looks like he's not convinced.
By the time that you're finished with your dinner, the oven's timer went off. Jungkook insists that he wash the dishes even though you feel like you should be the one doing it, but he tells you to check your cookies in the oven and so you did.
You're not expecting anything, but it will feel really good if it tastes at least okay.
Crossed fingers, your mind says as you take out the sheet pan.
First impression: it looks okay to the eye. Like real cookies.
But soon, your parade is rained on when you try to bite into the cookie.
It looks like real cookie, all right, but apparently doesn't taste like one.
Your face contorts into a frown as soon as you bite down into it a second time.
Okay, that's it. Put them in the tupperware as soon as possible, you thought. So, you do just that, placing all of the pieces into the plastic box and securing them away.
From where you were, you can hear Jungkook shutting the water off on the sink, his footsteps coming near you. Once he gets close, he peers down at what you're doing. Intrigued, he asks for one.
"No." you shake your head. The cookies are to be gatekept not because it's too good but because it should not be consumed at all. Jesus. You just ate Jungkook's tangsuyuk and it tasted exactly like the ones you've eaten from restaurants; it'd be such an embarrassing contrast to your own work.
"Don't be stingy," Jungkook playfully says, already making a move to reach for the cookies in your hands.
You hide the tupperware behind your back and stop him with your other free hand.
"Don't come closer. These cookies are not for consumption. Go away."
But he just arches a brow, walking a few steps forward.
"Jungkook!" You whine. "They don't taste good, and I'm embarrassed by them."
"Just one bite," Jungkook chuckles at you, not understanding your mortification. "Come on, __."
But you're stubborn and you won't let him have any of it even if he tries hard.
Jungkook is just as determined though, as he threatens to get closer and closer to you.
You squeaked out his name when he takes a hold of the tupperware but thankfully, you're quick on your reflex and able to take it back.
The whole thing prompts you to burst into laughter as you run around the island of his kitchen, giggling at the silliness of it all.
Your efforts to get away from him eventually go to waste as he managed to get ahold of your waist with his one arm, the other not missing the beat to steal the cookies from you.
He's firm over his hold, lifting you up while laughing against your head as you try to wriggle away.
"Let me have one bite, __," He says, and with his one arm, sits you on the countertop, not letting you go just yet even when you're fully sat.
You try to snatch the plastic from him but he's much quicker this time. When he opens it, you have no choice but to cover your face in embarrassment.
"I told you it's bad." You say, pouting at him, noting the expression on his face as he chews on the cookies that tells you it definitely does not taste good.
"You're a first timer." Jungkook just says, putting down the tupperware.
"Don't try to make me feel better." You frown even more.
"I'm not! I'm just pointing out that this is the first time you tried so of course it's not gonna be perfect right away?" He offers, some sort of comfort, maybe?
But your shoulders deflate because he's right.
Still.
Jungkook must have noticed your mood and tries to cheer you up one more time.
"Come on, you still made a really good tangsuyuk."
That makes you chuckle, unconsciously kicking his knee slightly making him let out an ingenuine, "Ow!"
You don't notice one of the straps of your spaghetti top falling off until Jungkook fixes it for you in the middle of your shared laughter.
"Thanks." You smile at him, mindlessly touching the strap, keeping it in place.
Jungkook hums as he helps you jump out of the kitchen counter.
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The night ended with him walking you to your unit again, a rather silly thing he keeps on insisting to do. It's hard to put a name on it, but there's a certain feeling in your chest when you went out of Jungkook's apartment.
A feeling that lingers its way through when you receive a text from him after you come out of the shower that night.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:05pm]: good night chef
You fight off the smile that forces its way into your lips as you type out a reply.
You [11:06pm]: good night :)))))
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:06pm]: i thought u already slept
You [11:07pm]: at 11oclock??? what do u think am i a grandma
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: fair Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: but i had fun earlier. we should do it again sometime
You lie on your back, can't help yourself from letting a small giggle.
You [11:09pm]: jungkook-a You [11:09pm]: just tell me u wanna be with me??
You meant that as a joke, obviously. Just like how he joked about you one time over lunch about wanting to see him every day when you brought up the topic of not seeing him come out of his apartment. You did not mean anything by it other than friendly banter.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:10pm]: 🤔 Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: that can be arranged. you can be my personal sous chef and I'll build us a restaurant
You [11:11pm]: sweet
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:11pm]: you havent seen all, baby
Your lips part.
Okay...
Your relationship is absolutely platonic at best. But you can't help but think that he gets a little flirty at times... like the few moments in his kitchen earlier. Is it bad that you're thinking way too much about that specific memory of him licking your finger without thought? Of his strong arm effortlessly carrying you against his rigid body and putting you on the countertop, almost manhandling you? Is it bad you can't get the memory of him fixing your top out of your head?
His use of nickname ticks a little light at the back of your head, and you decide to poke the nest a little.
You [11:12pm]: really? what r u wearing right now
Just a little jokey-joke between friends and nothing more.
You don't even expect a reply to that, but your phone dings a second after, and when you open your message thread again, your jaw parts wider this time.
It's a picture of Jungkook lying his bed, his face cut off from the frame. But you know it's him from the arm that peeks out, his tattoos a familiar sight by now. The photo is taken at a low angle, just enough for you to see the sleeveless shirt he's sporting and the strings of his grey shorts.
You [11:14pm]: i meant that as a joke
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:14pm]: 🥴
You do not know what he meant by that. You look for a picture to reply with, and the HAHA reaction is expected the moment you pressed send.
You [11:15pm]: stripper patrick says good night
Laughing silently at the meme you sent him which was Patrick from Spongebob wearing a pair of black fishnet tights and boots, you wait as three dots appear on Jungkook's line.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:15pm]: you're a minx
You chuckle, reacting to his message with an emoji and turn off your phone, almost throwing it on your nightstand and scrambling to bury your face in your pillow to let out a sound of a weird sob, but you're smiling your face off and your cheeks feel way too hot.
The truth of the matter is that you ended the conversation because you're afraid of where it's going.
Turning around, you lay on your back and stare at your ceiling, calming the beat of your heart and forcing your eyes to shut close.
But the picture Jungkook sent you keeps on popping up in your head, almost like those ads from shady websites on the internet, and when you think about it, it triggers a slur of memories that play like a picture in your head: his lips wrapped around your finger... his strong arm... his subtle touch on the small of your back...
"Ugh," you groan, slapping your hands over your face.
You furrow your brows to appear serious, thinking that it'll make you think of something serious as well, wrapping a blanket over your body and sighing when the technique doesn't work.
Okay, think of dogs... and puppies...but that's apparently a wrong move because now you're thinking of Jungkook with his dog.
You're obviously awful at this.
You turn on your bed once again, muffling a sound in your pillow.
But then as minutes passed, your restlessness continues to prevail and you're about to cry with the unknown frustration that sits at the back of your head.
Laying in silence for a while, your hand finds itself roaming over your body, your thumb catching your nipple through your thin top. You pinch the nub, experimental, until it turns into a pebbled rock in your touch.
You bite your bottom lip as your other hand trails down over your panties, running it around the waistband, down until you reach down, down, down to your core.
Your lips part when you feel its heat, two of your fingers starting to stroke where your nether lips were. You sigh at the sensation, squeezing at your boob and turning your head to the side, thinking about how good it feels.
Slowly, you reach down under your parties to part your lips, moaning at the wetness that welcomes you below.
You start to stroke gently with your middle finger, drawing figure eights over your core and making sure to put friction on your clit. The ministration produces more wetness in your cunt, and you spread it over for easier access inside as you start to poke into your hole.
"Oh my god," you mewled, breathing heavily against your pillow, pumping a finger into you. It's a little tight, and you remember you haven't touched yourself like this for over a few weeks now.
But god, how could you forget the feeling of it? The feeling of something going in and out of your cunt, gliding so smoothly because of the abundance of wetness all over.
"Fuck." you sigh out, lips parted, eyes closed to feel more of the sensation.
Your other hand reaches under your top to fondle with your boob, helping you stimulate yourself into that familiar feeling of great ecstasy that comes with your pussy getting touched.
It's starting to feel hot, and you can feel the beads of sweat starting to form on the side of your head even though the AC and your fan are both on. There's a zap that starts from your spine that comes with a sort of electricity coming from within, transferring that tick into your belly which prompts you to pump into your hole faster.
The sheets are a mess at this point, with your feet kicking into them as your movement picks up pace.
"Oh god," you cry out silently, muffling your sob in the comfort of your fluffy pillow.
You chase the feeling of completion, closing your eyes once more, trying to figure out how to get there.
And there's one familiar man that pops inside your head.
Jeon Jungkook.
"Oh shit," you hiss, pinching your nipple and going in and out faster.
Jungkook with his lips around your finger. Jungkook pressing his body against your back. Jungkook carrying you against his body. Jungkook's electric touch as he fixes the strap that's fallen over your naked shoulder.
You let out a pathetic moan, trying to shake away the thoughts of him.
You aren't supposed to. It feels wrong. So wrong.
Suddenly, you feel frustrated over still not reaching your climax up to this point.
You let out a heavy breath, pulling out your fingers from your pussy and from under your panties.
You don't get off. You never do – with your fingers, anyway, that is. And that's why you have a trusted toy buried deep at the back of the drawer of your nightstand, kept away for occasional uses. You'd say you need it right now, but you're too flushed and tired to take it out.
And there's also a melancholic feeling in your heart upon realizing that you just thought of Jungkook while touching yourself.
"Shit, shit, shit." You hiss, the cusses mostly dedicated to yourself.
You shake your head as you sit on the edge of your bed, your hair a bird's nest and clothes strewn over your body as per your reflection on the full-body mirror across your bed.
Sighing, you let your head down and massage your temples.
"God, what's wrong with me,"
You feel guilty... because you aren't supposed to think of a friend when you're trying to get off. You told yourself you'd stop finding Jungkook hot or cute or what-the-fuck-ever so that stupid crush can go away finally. But it feels like all your efforts – or lack, thereof – always seem to fall short.
This isn't good. You need to think straight.
A sudden loud ping catches your attention, almost startling you because it's in the middle of the night, after all. When you snap your head to the side, you see your phone with the light out.
You instantly feel a little nervous. What if it's Jungkook? There's an irrational fear in your head that he knows what you just did, but you shake the thought away, scolding yourself for getting way over your head.
Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel scared to open your phone but then, did you really have a choice?
Slowly trudging to the direction of your phone, you pick it up from the table and turn it on.
August 18: Your cycle forecast Ovulation in 2 days. Your sex drive may just be hitting its peak🌡️ Tap for tips to make most out of it👉
"Oh fuck me." You curse, throwing your phone on the bed, feeling pissed all of the sudden.
Fucking period tracker app... and ovulation.
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PART THREE | ...
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all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3
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your-internet-bf · 5 months ago
Text
NSFW asks cuz the other lists are too big or too boring, limit of 3
1. What's your biggest turn-off?
2. What's the largest age gap between you and a sexual partner?
3. Does size really matter?
4. Who was your worst sexual partner?
5. Have you ever faked an orgasm?
6. Where's the riskiest place you've done it?
7. Do you have any unusual fetishes?
8. Have you ever been caught in the act?
9. What do you like least and like most about your body?
10. What do you like least and like most about your personality?
11. What's the craziest thing you've done to attract someone's attention?
12. When's the last time you were flat-out rejected and how did you handle it?
13. What's your biggest sexual fear?
14. What's the most flirtatious thing you've ever done?
15. If one wish could come true right now, what would it be?
16. What's the strangest thing that ever turned you on?
17. How do you really feel about anal?
18. How far would you go to land the partner of your dreams?
19. Do you like when someone else makes the first move?
20. Best dating advice you've ever been given?
21. What's the best kiss you've ever had?
22. Do you prefer to give or to receive?
23. Most outrageous sex dream you've ever had?
24. On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is your sex drive?
25. What's a red flag for you in a relationship?
26. Who would you have fucked if you thought you two would never be caught?
27. Do you think a relationship can come back from cheating?
28. What's your favorite kind of kiss?
Have you ever...
29. Sent nudes to someone?
30. Had public sex?
31. Had phone sex?
32. Had a threesome?
33. Accidentally sent nudes to the wrong person?
34. Had a threesome?
35. Sexted while at work?
36. Fucked someone at work?
37. Watched porn with someone else?
38. What is something you wish people knew about sex?
39. What's your favorite way to show casual intimacy?
40. Do you prefer morning or evening sex?
41. What's the most challenging part about sex?
42. Ideally, how long does foreplay last?
43. Does the idea of recording porn with someone turn you on?
44. What's the last thing you came to?
45. Do you feel tired or energized after sex?
46. What's the hottest thing someone has ever said to you?
47. Do you like the scent of sweat?
48. What's the most memorable orgasm you've ever had?
49. Is fucking your CLONE incest or masturbation?
50. Ask me anything!
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i-cant-sing · 4 months ago
Text
Time Traveller AU part 9
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
Part 10 is here.
"I think you should take off your veil now. You need to impress the princes so that one of them could take pity and marry you. Or you could try black magic-"
"Baris, I will pull your tongue out and strangle you with it if you say another word." You muttered, holding your head in your hands.
After Baris landed the "marriage bomb" on you last night, you've been stressed. Why did I have to teach Mihirmah? Why did I have to accept the bracelet? Why did I-
"You have bags under your eyes, and considering that they're the only feature visible, its not good-" You threw a pillow at him, which he dodged easily. You hadnt slept at all, how could you? You tried to figure out a plan, that didnt work. You tried to fix your time machine, that was not going to work at all without tools.
"You could be wrong." You mumbled, opening your eyes as you stared ahead. "This bracelet could be nothing but just a kind gesture. It is not a marriage proposal. You're wrong-"
Baris cut you off. "I know it seems impossible, considering how you look, even I'm surprised- but I'm never wrong, Y/n. I've worked here for more 25 years, I know what everyone thinks." You stared at him with a pinched expression.
"You have to help me, Baris."
He smiled. "Of course, you'd be lost cause else wise! I'll get the seamstress to make you some new clothes-"
"No, I meant- you have to help me escape. I cant- I dont want to get married!"
He scoffed. "Darling, we're alone right now. You can drop the "I dont wanna marry a prince and enjoy the luxuries of the world" act."
"I mean it!" You huff.
"And why is that?"
"Because-" you bit your lip. What excuse can you possibly come up with to satisfy him?
"I love someone else."
"How tragic." He said monotonously. "Love has no place in the harem. You're here to attract, serve and please the royal family." He walked closer to you, leaning down as he lowered his volume. "And I'm going to give you some advice: you better not use that excuse again, never even MUMBLE about having a lover again, not unless you want to be tortured and executed for being a traitor."
You knew what he was referring to. The harem, the concubines, the whole palace was filled with jealousy. If anyone were to hear about this, they would use it against you, conjure up such vulgar lies that the sultan will chop off your head.
"Baris I cant-"
"You dont have a choice, Y/n." He cut you off harshly. "I suggest you suck it up and pretend to be happy or else you'll be in for a hard life."
"Now, get ready. You need to teach a lesson."
-
"You look sick."
You resist rolling your eyes. "Yes, I know I'm ugly. Thank you for keeping me updated."
Mihirmah shook her head. "No, I mean you dont look well. Are you alright?"
No, I lost sleep because of you and-
"Just tired, Mihirmah. I think we've should stop here today." You watched her beam.
"Finally! Now we can celebrate!" Mihirmah clapped her hands as the servants brought in some tea and sweets. She had initially wanted to celebrate her victory from last night as soon as you came in, but you wanted to get the lesson done with so that you could leave.
"You enjoy it. You did a good job." You tried to excuse herself but she frowned.
"I did. And so did you! I mean, the way you made Mahidevran shut up! It was amazing!" She took a piece of sweet and handed it to you. "Besides, my father appreciated your efforts as well-"
You looked down at the bracelet. This was more of a death sentence than a gift.
"Mihirmah." You took off your bracelet. "I- I appreciate the sultan's gift, but I cant accept this. Its too much- its-" you mentally rolled your eyes at your next excuse. "Its above me."
She furrowed her brows. "Even if that may be the case, which its not because you fully deserve that after the showdown, you still cannot refuse or return a sultan's gift, much less one that he made himself!" She tilted her head. "What is really going on? Why do you not want the bracelet? And dont say its not to your taste, because lets face it- you probably have not seen jewels like this in your life."
Biting the inside of your cheek to prevent the insults from slipping out, you took a breath.
"I... heard that..." you took another breath. How do you say "I dont want the bracelet because I dont wanna marry any of your brothers" without sounding narcissistic. "I... I heard that there might be a different meaning behind the bracelet. That it may signify... something else."
"Which is...?" She prompted you.
You exhaled.
"That I might be considered to be... a spouse for a sehzade."
Mihirmah snorted as you looked down to conceal both your embarrassment and fear.
"I'm sorry- what did you say?" She was laughing now. You continued to look down. As long as she's laughing and not getting mad at you for even suggesting such a thing, you're fine. Besides, if she's laughing then it means that all that bullshit Baris was spewing earlier was just that- bullshit.
"You think- my father, the sultan, wants you- YOU, to marry one of his sons?" She wiped a tear away from her eye as she laughed. "That is the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard. True, father does only give handmade gifts to those he considers close, but I dont think thats true in your case, Y/n. You're just my teacher, that's all. Besides, even if you were to be considered as a potential spouse for my brothers, you have my mother and Mahivdevran standing in your way. And trust me, they're going to marry their sons to someone they like. You- they cant even tolerate you as my teacher at this point of time."
Sighing in relief, you nod. "Well, that's great to hear-"
"Wait." Mihirmah narrows her eyes at you. "If you thought that my father wanted to marry you to one of his sons, why did you want to return the bracelet? Did you- did you not want to marry my brother?"
Oh shit. "Mihirmah no-" You tried to pacify her.
But she snapped at you. "What? You think you're better than my brothers? Any of them? You'd be lucky if Mehmed or Mustafa chose you, if such a miracle does happen."
Your eyes were wide at her venomous tone. You dont know whether it was because she was protective of her brothers, or if she just really hated the idea that you would consider rejecting royalty.
A few more moments of silence went by. "You misunderstand me, sultana." You chose her title to please her. "I know of my status, and I am well aware of how... lowly I am to be a part of this family. The only reason I was returning the bracelet was because... I didnt want the harem to assume things and threaten or hurt me. I am aware that the sehzade have their favourite concubines, much better equipped to their tastes. But if they were to see this bracelet gifted by the sultan on me, they would... it would cause misunderstandings. I just wanted to avoid that."
Your words were carefully selected to not aggravate her any further, which it didnt but they also didnt calm her down.
Mihirmah's face was still sour. "The concubines are smart enough to figure out who's a competition and who's just a mere servant. You have nothing to worry about."
The words stung but... you just bowed and took your leave instead of slapping her across the face.
Mehmed had just turned the corner when he saw you leaving Mihirmah's room with tears pooling in your eyes, the niqaab only causing them to look more prominent.
He entered Mihirmah's room, finding his sister looking angry as she gazed into space.
"Mihirmah?" He sat down beside her, noticing how she didnt immediately light up as she always did when he came. What did you do to piss her off so much?
He cupped her face to look at him. "What's wrong? Tell me."
-
You're laying in your bed, arm over your eyes as you try to think of a way out of here.
When will the time machine work again?
Its not like you can go out of the palace to get help or even tools to work on it, and you always fear that someone just may walk in on you tinkering with the machine. The only place where you can get privacy in this palace here is the dungeons, only because its dark and oh-so-daunting that it doesnt really attract people there.
There's a knock on your door. With a grunt, you get up and open the door, only to find no one there. Your room was in the harem, but it was on the upper floor, so you could see the whole area from above, including the silhouette of someone leaving the harem doors.
Normally, you wouldn't have bothered with the "door bell pranks", but you made your way down because 1. you're not familiar with what this might mean, maybe some royal summoned you and you're to follow the servant. 2. you're bored.
When you left the harem and looked to your left, spotting the back of a girl in red dress, you knew she was baiting you to follow her. So you did, turning around the corridor only to be body slammed to the wall.
3 women surround you, blocking any escape routes. They're all glaring at you, and you recognise their faces. They're the concubines.
You clear your throat. "Well? I suppose you have something to say that you couldnt say in there."
The brunette in front of you narrows her eyes. "Who do you think you are?"
"Why dont you tell me?"
Her glare intensifies. "You think you can just bat your lashes and whore yourself to the sehzade?"
"Heh?"
The raven haired girl on her right grabbed your throat and banged your head against the wall behind. "Dont play dumb! We know you're trying to marry the prince!"
The blonde on the left banged your head against the wall this time, gritting out "Stay away from sehzade Mustafa!"
"And sehzade Mehmed!" the brunette warned, repeating the same assault as the other two.
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you rubbed the sore spot on the back of your head. "None of your accusations are true. Unlike you, I actually have a respectable job here-"
"We saw the bracelet! You think you can just prance around here, pretending to be this holy and pure, untainted girl while we work ourselves to the bone to get in bed?!" The brunette screamed at you, getting in your face.
You pushed her away. "First of all, I am not interested in marrying anyone. Secondly, the bracelet means nothing than a job well done. And finally- you seem to mistake your status over me. I dont work for you, or under you. So, this is for earlier-" You slapped her hard across the face, making her fall. The other two were in shock, and you took that as an opputunity to slap them too.
"Now, we're even." You huffed, adjusting your niqaab before turning on your heel to leave. You needed to slap them, not only because you need to let them know they cant bully you, but also because you needed to release some steam. It felt good, you wont lie. You may have even imagined some people's faces as you smacked them-
"Omph!" You're pushed to the ground, flipped over onto your back. You grab on to the hands that are wrapped around your neck, eyes wide as the brunette starts to choke you.
"You stupid bitch!" She screamed as you fought hard to pull her hands away. She yanked the veil off your face, smacking your cheek hard enough to scratch you with her sharp nails.
"Laira stop-" the blonde tried to pull her off you but Laira continued to beat you.
"Hand me the torch!"
"Laira-" The blonde started again but the raven haired grabbed the fire sconce off the wall and handed it to Laira.
You stared in horror as she brought the torch closer to your face, the heat radiating. She grinned manically, one hand still squeezing your throat.
"You're not even that pretty for a sehzade. Did you use black magic on them?" She clicked her tongue, while your eyes were fixated on the torch. "I guess, it wont be futile to ruin your face for guarantee."
"Please no-" she choked you harder with her man hands that you just couldnt seem to pry off, and you sort of became paralysed as the dancing flames took you back to the night in the desert, when the assassins set your tent on fire. Everything slowed down, and noise drowned out like in the movies.
Salauddin. Help-
The flames suddenly vanish from your view as Laira is thrown off you.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?!" The man roared behind you. Your eyes moved from the shaking concubines to your saviour.
Ibrahim pasha.
"Pasha bey-"
"Shut it. Guards! Throw them to the dungeons!" Ibrahim yelled and automatically, 4 Janisarries appeared from behind him and dragged the wailing girls away.
Ibrahim looks down at you, his eyes shifting from rage to sympathy. He crouches down and helps you sit up, his touch gentle.
"Are you alright, Hatun Y/n?" You're staring at him in a daze, your body has not recovered enough to physically react, almost on autopilot.
Say something.
"Y/n?" He asks again, his brows furrowing as his concern deepens. Why does everything sound so far, so low?
He snaps his fingers near your ear, and your brain finally reacts.
"Y-yes." You tear your gaze away, looking at the fire torch lying on the ground far from you.
Fire. Second time you were almost burnt to death.
"Come on." He helps you up, gently tugging you to follow him. A few shaky steps later, you follow him to your room.
He sat you down on the bed. "There we go." Ibrahim pasha scanned your face for any burns or injuries, noting the nail marks from the slap.
"Baris Agha!" Ibrahim called and a few seconds later, the eunuch stumbled in.
"Yes, pasha- ya Allah, what happened to-"
"Baris." Ibrahim snapped at him. "Get me bandages and healing balm. And keep quiet about this." Baris only nodded before following orders.
You cleared your throat. "I... thank you for saving me, pasha." Ibrahim smiled courteously as he sat on a chair nearby.
"It was my duty. Sultan Suleiman had asked me to keep an eye on you."
Your brows furrowed. "Why?"
Ibrahim looked at the bracelet around your wrist. "I suppose you did something to make him pleased."
He relaxed in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. "So... what happened with the concubines?"
"Misunderstanding." You said dismissively.
"And what that might be?" He prodded. When you didnt reply, he sighed. "I am the pasha, the sultan's right hand. I am supposed to know what happens in the palace."
"Its nothing of significance. You can let the girls out of the dungeon."
"I'm afraid that decision is not upto you." Ibrahim deadpanned. "If you do not wish to tell me, fine. I have other ways of finding out." He made his threat clear and began standing up.
"Wait!" You clenched your niqaab, looking at the veil in your lap. "I'll tell you, but... you cant tell anyone."
Ibrahim stared at you before nodding, sitting back down.
"There may have been a rumour... the cocncubines- they think that the bracelet, a gift from the sultan means that I am... special." You mumbled the last word.
"Special how?"
"They think... that the sultan wants me to be his... daughter-in-law. Actually, they think that I am wooing the sehzades- Mustafa and Mehmed."
"And are you?" He asks immeadiately.
"Of course not!"
"Why not? Anyone would love to marry a prince."
You scoffed. "I would never want to be a part of this family, not even as a teacher."
He raised a brow. "Hate the Ottomans?" You shake your head. "No. But I wouldn't want to be a part of it." You clicked your tongue. "Everyone in this palace is a slave. The concubines, the servants, the wives, the kids, you and me too. The wives of the sultan, they have all the luxuries one could imagine... except for the loyalty of their husband. Not to mention, they have to live in constant fear of being replaced and be in paranoia forever because everyone who is not family, is a threat to her. The kids? If you're born a boy, sure- you are immediately given a superior status, but with such power and princely status also comes with its own drawbacks. The boy will have to always be compete with his brothers, not because he wants to be the next sultan, but for survival."
In Ottoman empire, there was a common practice of fratricide- a tradition where once the next sultan is chosen, the new sultan is allowed LEGALLY to kill his brothers, stepbrothers, nephews and even female relatives (sisters included) as well, so as to get rid of any future competition or betrayal by his own family. In a nutshell, it was done to prevent civil wars.
"If you're born as a girl, then you may have a better chance of survival than your brothers, but that's still not guaranteed. Not to mention, you are raised to be married off to someone that will strengthen the royal family. Not to someone you love." Ibrahim watched you as you continued. "Its not better to be a servant either. Always being threatened, questioned about your loyalty, having to take the fall for the higher ups. The eunuchs, who think they are all high and mighty and control the court, you and I both know that their job to "protect the women of the harem" wasnt even their choice. To be forcefully castrated as children, forcefully ripped from their families, forced to serve the royals... they dont have a choice. I dont have to tell you how degrading it is to be a concubine."
"And me? How am I a slave?" Ibrahim asked.
You smiled sadly. "You know very well, and youre just trying to see how much I know. Your past is not a well kept secret, pasha." You kept quiet, and Ibrahim realised you already knew about his life.
Ibrahim, born as Orthodox Christian, was enslaved during his childhood. He and Suleiman became close friends in their youth, or perhaps forced to convert to Islam and then raised to befriend Suleiman. Suleiman appointed Ibrahim as grand vizier when he took the throne.
"How do you know?" Ibrahim's gaze was sharp. "I know a lot of things, pasha. But dont worry, I have no ill intent. If anything, I want to be as far from this life as possible. Perhaps... you could help me with that?"
He raised a brow. "I dont think that is an option for you right now." At your frown, he explained. "The safest place for a woman like you is here."
"Did you just forget that my face was almost burned off moments ago?"
He chuckled, shaking his hand. "Of course not. But you need to understand that you cannot just up and go without a word, especially after the sultan just gave you a handmade gift, and whether or not it signifies that he's considered you for one of his sons, it does mean that he considers you important. His majesty will not just accept your leave for no reason." Ibrahim leaned forward, clasping his hands. "As for your safety, you can leave that to me. I will make sure no harm befalls you again. I promise."
"But what about the sehzade? The rumours?"
He hummed thoughtfully. "If you're so concerned about that matter, then you should just avoid the princes as much as you can. Keep your niqaab on, continue your lessons with the princess and avoid interacting with people as much as you can."
Well, its not a bad suggestion. If you make yourself scarce and draw less attention to yourself, you can slip out of the palace and leave unnoticed.
"Oh, pasha?" You called him as he stood up to leave. "Can I request you not to tell about this incident to anyone?" You pointed to bruises on your face.
He grinned and nodded. "Of course. But it is not me you should be worried about talking." At your confused face, he chuckled.
"Baris Agha still hasnt returned."
-
Mihirmah and Mehmed were in your room just a few moments after Ibrahim pasha had fetched the bandages from below and treated your wounds, further confirming that Baris was spreading the news about your attack all over the palace.
"Y/n! Who did this to you?" Mihirmah traced the bruises gently as she sat beside you on the bed, while Mehmed sat in front of you, on the seat previously occupied by Ibrahim pasha- just closer this time.
"I dont know." You lied, pulling yourself away from Mihirmah's concerned touches. Oh you're still mad at her.
Your evasiveness didnt go unnoticed by her, as she dropped her hand and her mouth settled into a thin grim line.
"Why did someone attack you? What happened?" Mehmed asked, cutting the tension.
You shrugged. "I dont know." You fiddled with the niqaab in your lap. There's a big bandage on your cheeks, so while you couldnt exactly wear your veil again, you suppose in a way your face was somewhat covered?
"Probably mistook me for someone else. Or just a misunderstanding." You tried to brush this off.
"Still, it shouldnt warrant such a reaction. We should investigate-" Mehmed started but you shook your head.
"Ibrahim pasha is already looking into the matter. He'll take care of it-"
"I am the sehzade. I will look into this personally." Mehmed stated before leaving the room before anyone could stop him. Ah, to be the knight in shinning armour for a distressed damsel.
You and Mihirmah sat alone now. The air in the room was thick, the silence thicker. Mihirmah glanced at your nonchalant face, your eyes fixated on the ground, not caring how uncomfortable the silence was making the princess.
It was clear she had to break the ice.
"Y/n." She called. "Yes, sultana?" You answered, but your eyes still remained on the ground.
Sultana. Not Mihirmah, like she'd allowed you to call her, but sultana.
She pursed her lips. "I..." She paused. What is she supposed to say? Sorry? The word is as foreign to her as it is to any royal.
"I dont like the things you said this morning." She finally stated. "You shouldnt have said those things."
You resisted the urge to scoff. Is she really trying to pin this on you and make you apologise? Entitled brat-
"You're right, sultana. I was out of line. I suggest we should just stick to our lessons and avoid talking about anything else. I'll be careful not to bring up any other topic." You stated monotonously.
Mihirmah frowned. Why are you saying this? Why are you being so difficult?
"Stop it." She warned. You nodded. "As you wish, sultana. I'll arrange another Quran teacher for you." Your words only enraged her further.
"I said- stop it." She ordered but you're hell bent on making her apologise- a dream, but still. You clicked your tongue. "I suppose I'll hand in my resignation to the sultan and explain to His Majesty that it was my fault for being a useless servant who is just not capable- ow!" You finally looked at her in disbelief.
She pinched you. Mihirmah pinched your arm. Hard.
And she had the gall to glare at you, with some anger and remorse in her eyes.
"What did you do that for?" You spat, hissing as you rubbed the area she'd assaulted. There was going to be a bruise, for sure.
Her frown deepened. "You- I told you to stop, didn't I?!" You watched her trying to contain her rage, her body shaking as she tried not to wrangle you by the neck. "I- I dont want you to leave."
"But sultana-" "Mihirmah. You call me Mihirmah." She emphasised.
You bit the inside of your cheek to suppress your smile. "I am just a dispensable servant-" You jumped back when she went to pinch you again.
"Will you stop doing that?!" Your arm still hurt from her first attack. Mihirmah's nostrils flared. "Will you stop acting like a brat?!"
Your throat made a sound of disbelief. "I am acting like a brat?! Have you looked in the mirror recently?"
"Yes and I look very beautiful! Unlike your busted face!"
"Oh so you just get to insult me?" "I am not insulting you! I am DESCRIBING YOU!" She screamed as you glared at her. Mihirmah took a few deep breaths to calm down. "I am not calling you ugly, I was just referring to the bruises on your face. How did you manage to get beat up so badly? Did you not learn anything from my sparring lessons?"
"Sparring lessons? You mean the times where you would flip me on my back or throw me against the wall?" She glared at your accusation. "How is it my fault that you dont fight back?"
Mihirmah's gaze flicked the arm you were holding, the one she'd pinched. "Does it still hurt?" Her voice was much softer this time.
"Would you like me to pinch you back to demonstrate how much it hurt?" You spat back and she scoffed. "I didnt pinch you that hard. You're just sensitive." "Sure, you must only have meaty man fingers." You grumbled as she gasped and smacked your bruised arm, making you hiss.
The two of you glared at each other before Mihirmah wrapped her arms around you and looked up at you with a small pout.
"This doesnt work on me." You muttered, making her grip tighten around you.
"You know you're not a servant." Mihirmah whispered, looking up at you with puppy eyes, but only you knew the real Ronda Rousey in her.
"You're my friend, Y/n. Or the closest thing I have to a sister." "If you were planning on beating up your sister, I'm glad your parents didnt have one."
"Shut up, you're ruining the moment." Mihirmah scolded you. "I dont want you to go. I dont want you to be hurt, either. So just- I'm willing to let things go back to the way they were before this morning, if you are."
You stared down at her. You knew you were never going to get a real apology, Mihirmah was too prideful. You couldnt make her feel ashamed for her actions, or hold her responsible. So, you'll have to make do with this.
"Fine." She broke into a grin and squeezed her arms around you tightly before letting go.
"Now, tell me! Who were these girls who attacked you? I'll skin them with my daggers!" Ignoring her sociopathic tendencies, you shrugged. "I dont know, Mihirmah. I dont know who they were- I'm still new to the palace."
She hummed before her face lit up in realisation. "Wait! Baris Agha did say something about concubines. I'll ask Mehmed too when he returns with more information from Ibrahim pasha!"
-
While you are trying your best to hide the incident about your attack, unbeknownst to you, the news has spread like wildfire in the palace. A maid saw Mehmed entering Ibrahim pasha's office, and when she reported it to her friend, she then told her about how she overheard the eunuchs talking about a fight breaking out between the concubines and someone else, and then someone added that they saw Ibrahim pasha, Mehmed and Mihirmah in your room, so you were involved too. It wasnt long before this news reached Hurrem and Mahidevran, only this time it was more dramatised.
"The concubines tried to kill Hatun Y/n! It was only by pure luck that sehzade Mehmed saved her! And now her wounds are being tended to by Mihirmah sultana while sehzade Mehmed and Ibrahim pasha are punishing the concubines!" Gul, the chamber maid, told Mahidevran.
Mahidevran narrowed her eyes. "Why did they save her? She's just a teacher." The queen didnt understand why the royal children were going through such lengths to get justice for you. Fights in the harem break out all the time.
Gul fumbled with her thumbs, avoiding eye contact with her queen. Mahidevran's frown deepened. "What is it, Gul?"
"I- sultana- I just heard some rumors, its probably not even true-" "Out with it!" Mahidevran snapped.
Gul licked her lips as she spoke. "Um- I overheard that sehzade Mehmed has been... spending a lot of time with Hatun Y/n. Especially after the dinner where Mihirmah sultana recited-"
Mehmed... spending time with you? Why? If he wanted to sleep with you, he could have any girl from the harem. So why you? Why you, a Quran teacher, a conservative girl who covered herself from head to toe? Surely, Mehmed hadnt been bewitched by your physical appearance- not that you had any, in her opinion. And then Suleiman seemed to like you to, so for Mehmed to fancy you would be because-
Mahidevran's eyes widened at the sudden realisation.
"Get me Mustafa. Now!"
-
"Hatun Y/n was attacked by the concubines! Ibrahim pasha saved her and carried her unconscious form to her room!" A maid reported to Hurrem.
"Why was she attacked?" Hurrem asked, bored.
The maid hesitated to answer. "I am not sure, sultana, but the word is that the concubines were jealous of the attention Hatun Y/n was getting from sehzade Mustafa."
Mustafa? No. What possible business could you have with Mustafa? From the past week's events, Hurrem was told that you'd spend most of your time with her daughter, and only moments with Mehmed when he visited his sister.
"Mustafa isnt interested in Y/n." Hurrem stated, more to herself than to refute the maid's claims.
The girl nodded. "I'm only telling you what I heard, sultana. And... I also saw sehzade Mustafa leaving Mahidevran sultana's chambers to visit Hatun Y/n earlier today, just moments before I came here!"
Hurrem halted as she tried to make sense of the information. Mustafa was out all day because of the hunt, he wasnt supposed to return before dinner. Which means, he was fetched, likely by Mahidevran. Who probably informed him about your attack and now he went to check on you.
But why? Even at the dinner the other day, Hurrem didnt detect any sort of affection from Mustafa for you, or you from him. You both barely glanced at each other.
Maybe he's just checking in on you. That's all it is to it.
"How badly was Y/n injured?" Hurrem inquired.
"I didnt get a chance to see her yet, she's been with Mihirmah sultana since the event, but I heard that her unconscious body had to be carried by Ibrahim pasha himself! And- and that he even bandaged her up-"
"Ibrahim pasha?" Hurrem whispered to herself. What business did he have with you? He could've easily had a servant tend to your wounds, so why did he personally do it himself?
Ibrahim. Mustafa. Mahidevran. What are they upto? Hurrem knows Ibrahim doesnt like her, that he favours Mahidevran and Mustafa over her, that he wants Mustafa to be the next sultan-
Hurrem's heart sinks as she pieces it together.
"Get me Mehmed. Now!"
-
Suleiman was having dinner with his family. Both of his families- Mahidevran and Mustafa joined him tonight as well. He was happy to have them together, all well and healthy.
Except... something was off.
Suleiman's gut could sense it. The children were making small talk, his wives as well, but he could tell. There was some sort of tension.
It was Mihirmah that made him finally speak up.
"Mihirmah." He called out the girl who was playing with her food. "You've barely eaten. What's wrong?"
The room immediately fell dead silent, the attention now focusing on Mihirmah.
She smiled nervously, taking a small bite. "I'm fine, baba."
But Suleiman could see that her usual bubbling aura was somewhat depressing. "Mihirmah." He called her name more sternly, and this time, her smile faltered as she finally spilled.
"I'm just worried for Y/n."
Suleiman frowned. And when he looked at everyone else, it was clear that they knew something he wasn't aware of.
"What happened?"
-
Baris Agha was having fun riling you up. "So, you're telling me that both sehzade Mustafa and Mehmed, the two crown princes racing to be the next sultan, are visited you?" He snickered as you shot him a glare. "Can I just suggest you to remove the niqaab for the wedding-"
"Baris! Shut up!" You raged at him. "Dont think I dont know you were the one spreading the lies about-" "Lies? About what? About you being attacked? By concubines who are jealous of your- I dont know, I'm sorry what it is that these men seem to be enraptured with-"
There are hurried, intense knocks on the door. Baris opens the door as a servant stumbles in, out of breath.
"Hatun Y/n! Sultan Suleiman has summoned you! Now!" His tone signified that you're not to waste time.
"Why did he call for me?" You whisper to Baris as the two of you rush down the hallways.
"Perhaps he wants to formally ask you to marry one of his sons-" "Baris!" He grinned. "What? I have a sixth sense-" "YOU HAVE NO SENSE!" You yelled. "Have more sense than you." Baris grumbled.
"Why are you even following me? Dont you have a job?" You wanted him to stop vexing you.
He snorted. "And what? Miss out on all the fun? Besides, you know as the future sultana, you will need me-"
"I swear, as soon as I'm finished meeting the sultan, I am going to throw you off the roof."
The two of you turned the corner leading to the royal dining hall, and you bumped face first into Ibrahim pasha's back, the man catching you by the arms before you fell on your ass.
"P-pasha? What are you doing here?" You asked, backing up once you got your footing.
"Sultan sent for me. What are you doing here?" Ibrahim asked, equally confused.
"He summoned me as well. What do you think its about?" You watched the cogwheels in his mind turn and the realisation dawn on him.
"The attack earlier." He exhaled, closing his eyes as he tried to figure out his next steps. "We cant- you cant tell him the truth!"
"You want me to lie to the sultan?" He rose his brows. "Please, Ibrahim! I- I told Mihirmah and Mehmed and then Mustafa that I didnt know who the attackers were, or why they attacked me! If you tell them the truth-"
"Y/n." He grabbed your shoulders, staring into your worried eyes. "I promised to protect you, didnt I? I intend on keeping my promises."
You both entered the dining room together, bowing to the royal family sitting there.
"Y/n." You looked up at the sultan. "Is it true? Were you attacked?"
You were quiet for a few moments, resisting the urge to glance at Ibrahim to figure what to say, before nodding hesitantly.
"Y-yes, sultan." You trailed your eyes back to the ground. These people, they were warriors. They didnt have any technology back then, and they had to rely on body language to read people.
And you didnt want to risk him catching you in a lie.
"Are you alright?" Suleiman's voice was much softer now. "Did you go to the infirmary?"
"I'm well now, sultan. Thank you for asking." You meekly answered. "I was saved in time, thanks to Ibrahim pasha."
Mahidevran's eyes narrowed at you. Ibrahim saved you? Of course, you'd lie about that, so that no one would suspect you and Mehmed getting close. She thought to herself.
"Ah, Ibrahim pasha." Suleiman's voice turned serious. "You were the one who saved Y/n?"
"Yes, sultan." Ibrahim confirmed.
"And you have the attackers in custody?"
"Yes, sultan."
Suleiman slammed his fist on the table, rattling everyone. "Then why the hell wasnt I informed of it?!" Ibrahim kept his head down as the sultan continued to rage. "Why does everyone seem to be aware of this matter, except me?! Answer me, Ibrahim!"
Hurrem couldnt help the smile that curled on her lips. She was glad to see Ibrahim getting in trouble, perhaps Suleiman will finally get rid of him for once and for all-
"It's my fault, your majesty!" You announced suddenly, and everyone's focus shifted to you. "I- I was- I was shaken up from the attack and I- I made the pasha stay with me. I was too scared- I didnt think I was safe- so Ibrahim pasha left to make arrangements to assure me I was safe! He was busy because of me. I'm sorry! If- if anyone should be punished, it should be me!"
You held your hands together tightly to stop them from trembling. The room fell silent at your explanation, with you and Ibrahim holding your breaths.
"Is this true, Ibrahim?" Suleiman broke the silence.
"Yes, my sultan." Ibrahim answered. "After I had saved Hatun Y/n, I wanted to assure her of her safety, so I was busy interrogating the concubines who attacked her. After they confessed, I wanted to check if anyone else in the harem had any ill intentions for Hatun Y/n, so I was engaged in checking everyone who could be a possible threat. I was on my way to inform you, but you summoned me before I could."
"Concubines? Why did they attack Y/n?" Suleiman asked, wanting to know the result of his interrogation.
Ibrahim answered without missing a beat. "They were jealous of Hatun Y/n's bracelet." You looked at him but the pasha kept his eyes ahead at the sultan. "From what I gathered, Hatun Y/n refused to give up His Majesty's handmade gift, and when she put up a fight to defend your present, she was subjected to a harsh beating and had her face almost burned."
Suleiman's eyes widened. "Burned? Because of a bracelet?"
"It was what the bracelet represented, my sultan." Ibrahim's statement made your heart sink. He better not tell him about the "daughter-in-law" theory.
"The concubines think that you... favour Y/n over them." Ibrahim's words set fire to your cheeks and you had to bite your lip to suppress the gasp you almost let out.
Ibrahim decided to change the "daughter-in-law" theory to "3rd wife/bedwarmer theory".
"What rubbish?!" Suleiman slammed his fist on the table again, and perhaps everyone in the room was silently grateful for his rage and disbelief, as it disapproved the theory and quelled any future rumours. "I only see Y/n as my daughter, nothing else! How dare they slander me like that?! How dare they hurt someone I care about?! Ibrahim, execute those wretched concubines!"
Your eyes widened at the order. Preventing their death sentence was the only reason you lied and kept this charade up. You cant risk more people dying and history changing forever because of you!
"Y-your majesty!" You fell to your knees, your voice wet. "I- I beg you- I beg you on the behalf of the concubines, please- have mercy!"
Everyone watched in surprise as you cried for mercy for... your attackers?
"You... want me to forgive them? Despite what they did to you?" Suleiman asked, watching in disbelief at your tears wetting your niqaab.
"It- it was wrong- but please, they're just- they're just young girls. They made a mistake, they shouldnt pay with their lives!" You tried to come up with better reasoning. Aha!
"Sultan, I- we are Muslims. You are a role model for Muslims all over the world right now- but you have a role model as well- someone you havent met or seen, but you follow his advices and footsteps every day. Its Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)- and- and he advices us to be forgiving and merciful." Ibrahim watched you try to persuade the king.
"On the Day of Judgement, when we beg and grovel Allah for forgiveness, would He not forgive us happily if we show mercy to His creatures? If we forgive His mankind?" You pleaded and Suleiman was touched by your words, so-much-so that he walked over to you and pulled you by your shoulders before pressing a kiss to your veiled forehead.
"You're too kind, Y/n." He whispered, before nodding at Ibrahim. "Dont kill the concubines. But find a fitting punishment for them, Ibrahim." The pasha bowed his head obediently.
"And find Y/n her personal chambers in the royal wing." Suleiman stated, making everyone surprised.
No. Room in the royal wing only meant more contact with the royals themselves. This was the last thing you needed-
"Your majesty-" He held up a hand. "Dont protest, Y/n. You were hurt because of my present and while I appreciate that you defended it, I do not wish to see you hurt. Ibrahim, find her a room and shift her there by tonight. And assign a few guards and servants to Y/n as well. I dont want her to feel unsafe again." Suleiman looked at Ibrahim with a serious expression. "I trust her in your hands, Ibrahim."
"Of course, your majesty." Ibrahim nodded.
Suleiman looked back at you, a gentle smile on his face. "I would like you to join us for dinners now." He gently pushed your back and Mahidevran immediately scooted a bit closer to Suleiman's seat and patted the space beside her... and next to Mustafa.
Hurrem glared at the blatant display of intentions- Mahidevran showed her "generosity and humbleness" by letting you sit next to her to please Suleiman, and also make you sit next to her son to get close with.
At this moment, both queens are under the impression that Suleiman wants you to be his future daughter-in-law, so both women think that the other is making her son court you because the first one to marry you will produce a heir, further legitimising the prince's claim to the throne and becoming the next sultan, especially since Suleiman views you to be the perfect, pious woman who would be the perfect mother for his grandkids.
The only difference is- Mahidevran wants you to be Mustafa's spouse, not because she thinks you're a good match for her perfect son, but because she wants to speed up Mustafa's claim to the throne. She knows Suleiman prefers Hurrem over her (Hurrem's five kids are proof of that), and since she has no child other than Mustafa, Mahidevran is at disadvantage and she needs every advantage she can get, no matter how savoury it is- like you.
Hurrem on the other hand, does not want you as her Mehmed's spouse, because you're not what she had in mind for her precious son. She wants someone soft, demure, submissive, beautiful and more importantly- someone she can control. But she also knows what game Mahidevran is playing, and since Hurrem doesnt want Mustafa trying to steal the throne from Mehmed, Hurrem will have to just- get rid of you.
-
"So... the sultan just said that outloud?" Baris ate a date from the fancy table in your brand new chambers. "He just announced that you're his "daughter" to everyone?" He heard you groan a yes from your place on the bed- face buried in the pillows.
"And Mahidevran sultana made you sit between her and sehzade Mustafa?" He heard you groan another "yes".
Baris plopped down next to you. "So you're marrying Mustafa. Huh, didnt bet on that-"
"You bet on this?" You asked miserably, finally pulling your head up. "Of course, need to make money. Unlike you, not everyone has the oppurtunity to marry into royalty-"
You smack a pillow right across his face. "If I hear you talk about marriage again, I will strangle you."
Baris rolled his eyes, fixing his hair that you'd messed up. "I dont know why you're so upset. Did you want to sit next to Mehmed instead? If so, maybe I can still win the bet-"
"I dont want either of them!" You stated frustratedly, sitting up. "Do you not get it- I dont want to be a part of royalty! They're- they're all mad! My life would be in constant threat- from jealous concubines, possessive mother-in-laws, throne hungry princes. I dont want that!"
"Is it because you want Ibrahim pasha?"
You blinked at him. What? "What?"
Baris rubbed his chin. "Oh come on, I saw the way you two looked at each other before you entered the dining room- how the pasha promised to protect you, even from the sultan's wrath."
"Are you like- fishing for anything? For fun?" You shake your head at him.
Baris gave you a look. "Really? What about you going in and lying to protect him? He didnt even say anything before you took the chance to save him."
"I saved him because it was the right thing to do! Not because I love him!" You exclaimed, throwing your hand in the air. "If this is how you think, please- PLEASE resist the urge to ever help me! I dont want a proposal coming from you just because you saved me from choking."
Baris glared at you. "First of all- I'm never going to be as blind as the sehzade when it comes to love. Secondly, you'd be lucky to have me as a husband. At least your offspring will have a chance at looking somewhat normal-" You lunged at him and put him in a chokehold while Baris grabbed at your hijaab covered head to pull you off.
Your fighting match is brought to a halt as someone knocks on the door.
Mustafa stands outside your door, surprised to see Baris looking slightly disheveled when he opened your door.
"Baris? What are you doing here?" Mustafa asked, watching the eunuch fix his collar.
"Ah sehzade! Oh I was just helping Hatun Y/n adjust to her room. Shift her things in here." Baris faked a smile.
Mustafa nodded before lowering his voice. "Is she awake?"
"Yes yes- please come in." Mustafa walked inside just as you appeared out of the wooden divider screen, adjusting your niqaab.
"Sehzade." You gave him a courtesy. "How may I help you?"
Mustafa gave you a gentle smile, his moustache quirking up handsomely. "I would like to ask you to spend the day with me tomorrow."
You froze, and you didnt dare look at Baris who you knew was sporting a smug look because you didnt want to throw your shoe at his face in front of the prince.
"I- I think I am busy with Mihrimah sultana tomorrow-"
"No, I asked her. She said she's happy to skip her lessons for tomorrow." Mustafa cut your excuse. "I'll come by after breakfast. Good night, Y/n."
-
Even though Mustafa said he'll see you after breakfast, which for royals was just an hour before noon, you were woken up by Baris at the ass crack of dawn.
"Baris! What the hell?" You glared at him when he yanked the covers off you. Baris grinned at you. "As much as I'd like to believe in beauty sleep, its so not helping in your case. Come on, you need a bath and a lot of other stuff!"
He'd brought fine silk gowns and matching niqaabs (which you insisted on wearing despite Baris voicing his displeasure).
Currently, one of the maids had just finished doing your eye makeup- which in this case was kohl, and some dried berries crushed to a fine powder to make a rouge sort of shade.
"Since your eyes may be the only thing the prince sees, we need to make them bewitching!" Baris had commented before spraying you down with a lot of perfume.
"That's enough!" You push the bottle away as you coughed at the musky, earthy perfume. "Isnt that for men?" You ask coughing.
Baris's grin only widened. "Its sehzade Mustafa's favourite attar! I had to bribe his chamber servant to tell me this. And you my darling-" He sprayed you again. "-need to smell like him so that he thinks you two are a perfect fit!"
"That is literally the stupidest thing I've heard-" your insult is cut short as your vision is blinded by Baris flipping up your veil to reveal your lower half of the face and him applying some crushed berries juice to your lips.
"Just in case you have a change of morals and want to kiss the prince." He jumped back when you tried to slap him.
Soon, Mustafa came to fetch you. You two were currently walking through the royal gardens, with you giving curt answers so that he would lose interest in you and leave you alone.
Your dismissal didnt go unnoticed by him. "What do you like to do for fun?"
"Read." You answer looking at the well cut hedges. "Have you been to the royal library?" He looks down at you, finding you gazing at the flowers. "Yes. I've already read all of the books there." In college, of course.
"All of them?" His disbelief makes you look at him. Finally. Mustafa thinks.
"Of course." You answer, offended.
"Even the royal ancestry book?" Mustafa raises a brow at you.
"Yes." Your brows furrow. "Ask me anything."
He shakes his head and chuckles. "I doubt you know more about my ancestors than me."
When he looked back at you, you were still looking at him expectantly.
"Ask me."
Mustafa's curiosity got the best of him at your determination.
"This is- this is incredible." Mustafa commented, his eyes wide as he looked at the ancestry book from where he basically quizzed you. He didnt know he was talking to a historian who had pulled all nighters for pretty much every major empire for finals.
"How did you learn all of this?" He asks you, still double checking your answers.
"Oh... I have good memory." You mutter, making him shake his head at you with an amusing smile.
"Of course, I should've figured. You're a hafidha, you're passionate for learning." And passionate for making money in trivias.
Mustafa closes the book. "So, since you've read every book in here, I suppose you must be bored?" He doesnt wait for an answer when an idea pops in his mind. "Come on, lets go."
You follow him, trying to keep up with his fast pace. "Go where?"
"To get you new books." He looks over his shoulder and gives you charming grin.
Your steps falter. New books? "We're leaving the palace?" He hums.
You havent left the palace since you came here, mostly because you havent been able to leave.
You match his pace. "Lets go!" And Mustafa finally sees you excited for the first time today.
With a few Janissaries and some disguise, you all head out into Istanbul. You're looking around the city like a kid in a candy store, only you're looking for a something or someone to help you fix your time machine.
The market comes into view along with the sound of hawkers trying to attract customers. Of course, the only shopkeeper who wasnt yelling was the blacksmith, allowing his hammer to garner the attention of serious clients.
He could be of use. If you're able to find some tools, maybe even get some metal films, you could try to spark a charge and trigger the time machine to work.
You start to take a few steps towards him when Mustafa grabs your shoulder and pulls you back to him. "Where are you going? Stay close to me. I dont want to lose you." He tells you, almost in a chiding tone, but his hands carefully pulling your robes around you said otherwise.
He lead you towards a bookshop. Mustafa nodded at you to go ahead, explore and get any book you want. He'll buy it.
While you were busy browsing, Mustafa couldnt help but steal glances at you. He didnt understand why he was doing this- he couldnt really see your face, or anything except for your eyes.
Your eyes, they were pretty but its not their beauty that really captivates him. Its the swirl of emotions in them. The mystery in them, like there's... more to you. Like you're hiding something.
Perhaps it was your mannerisms. Your dismissive nature, your tendency to not be impressed easily by their eccentricities or status, almost as if you've lived with royalty before.
Maybe he likes how different you treat him him. How you dont bend over backwards to please his family, or try to pursue him or his brothers. In fact, you almost seem to be avoiding them altogether.
You intrigue him. Badly. Amusingly. Adorably.
-
"I dont understand! Where could she have gone?" Mihirmah whined to her brother at lunch. Mehmed only raised a brow. "Who? Y/n? She might be in her room recovering from yesterday's events. She was pretty shaken up-"
"I already checked! She's not there!" Mihirmah sighed before laying her head in his lap, and he began patting her hair. "She went out with Mustafa but she still hasnt returned! Its lunch time and I planned on teaching her sword fight! For self defense, you know- so that she doesnt get beat up like last time."
Mehmed's hand stopped patting. "She's with Mustafa?"
She nodded. "Since morning!"
"Huh." Mihirmah sat up, looking at her brother puzzled.
"What? What is it?" She asked him.
"Nothing." He faked a smile, but Mihirmah knew him like the back of her hand. "Mehmed. Tell me."
"I just... dont understand why Mustafa is spending time with her." He stated, standing up to walk to the balcony. "She's your teacher. What business does Mustafa have with her?"
Mihirmah watched her brother stiffen suddenly, watched the way his jaw ticked as he looked down the balcony. She stood up and joined him, following his gaze to see what he was looking at.
Its you. And Mustafa. Finally returning to the palace, servants holding piles of books following behind you two. What's even more bizarre is to see Mustafa smiling down at you while you giggled, covering your mouth despite the niqaab, making you look even more bashful.
Even Mihirmah hadnt ever seen you so joyful, and yet here you are- laughing so gleefully with her eldest brother. Step brother.
It rubbed her off the wrong way.
"You want her?" She asked him, her voice so hollow that it made Mehmed look at her.
"What?"
Mihirmah looked at him, her eyes stern. "Do. You. Want. Her?"
Unwavering determination. Thats what he saw in his sister's face.
Say the word, and it'll be done.
Mehmed stared at her.
"Yes."
-
"I hope you had a good time." Mustafa asked you as he walked you to your chambers. You nodded. "I did. Thank you, sehzade." Despite your best attempts at dismissing him, Mustafa was very persistent at breaking down your walls. And sure, part of you giggled and pretended to be flustered at his words, you mainly acted cordial so that he may take you out of the palace more often. He was your only way out at the moment.
You both stopped outside your door, the servants walking past you to place your books inside. Mustafa looked satisfied.
"If you ever need to go outside again, feel free to come to me, Y/n." He offered, before taking out a small box from his pocket and handing it to you.
Your heart dropped. A ring? Now? This fast? No no no no no-
You opened the box and you felt life returning back to you. It was a gold broach adorned with rubies and a diamond in the center, encaged in an intricate heart pattern.
"I may not share my father's gift of handcrafting jewels, but I do happen to be skilled at acquiring precious jewels on my conquests." Mustafa informed you as he took the broach from the box and looked at you for permission before pinning it to your hijab, just below your collar bone.
You were too stunned to stop him or even turn down the gift, though Mustafa took your silence as awe.
He adjusted the broach.
"Perfect." He whispered, looking into your eyes.
You watched him leave with a grin, finally able to breathe when he was out of sight.
With a sigh, you enter your chambers, half expecting Baris to be sprawled over your bed waiting to tease you for details on your outing.
What you werent expecting was... her.
"Did you have fun?" The sultana asked, her eyes sharp. "I've been waiting for you, Y/n. Lets have a chat, hm?"
Shit.
-
"You're abnormal." Your hands stop adjusting your hijab as you glare at him through the mirror.
"What?"
Baris tilted his head. "You're abnormal." He repeated.
You turn around from the vanity and glare at him. "Is this another way of calling me ugly?"
"Tch. No, I have words for that." He shook his head. "I meant, you've been acting weird since yesterday, after you returned from your secret outing with sehzade Mustafa."
"You're imagining things." You mumble, turning back to the vanity mirror and picking up the broach Mustafa gave you.
Baris scoffed. "I am not. I may have been busy with the younger royal kids yesterday, but I did manage to catch a glimpse of you giggling and blushing when you returned with the prince." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So that means, the day went good. Something happened on the way to your chambers." He narrowed his eyes at you. "Did you kiss him?"
You whipped your head. "Baris!" He palmed his face. "Sorry, I forgot you're the religious prude. Did he kiss you?"
"No, Baris! No one kissed anyone." You began pinning the broach to your hijab, the same area where Mustafa had placed it yesterday. But you werent able to, too frustrated at the interrogation.
Baris grabbed the broach from you and pinned it in place. "So, you two didnt kiss, bought you enough books to make a you a scholar, and gifted you this broach, and you're disturbed because...?"
You frowned. "I am not disturbed. You're just reading too much into this."
"Fine, dont tell me. I'll find out on my own." You walked past him to teach your Quran lesson.
As much as you'd like to think that you're sly, Baris is right. Something did happen. After you'd returned to your room, you were met there by Mahidevran sultana.
You were reasonably scared because you thought that she's here to torture you or even kill you because you've been "seducing Mustafa" or whatever rumour Baris has spread about you.
But you were surprised when she told you that she wants you and Mustafa together, in marriage. As soon as possible. For the next half hour, Mahidevran basically told you all about the likes and dislikes of her son so that you would accustom yourself to them and then emphasised how supportive she would be of you to be her daughter-in-law. She even encouraged you to... sleep with him, she didnt say it directly but you got the meaning behind her words.
At the end of her lecture, she warned you to not spend time with Hurrem or any of her offsprings, besides Mihirmah because you are her teacher and even then told you to keep your interaction strictly formal and minimum.
When she was about to leave, she spotted the broach on your clavicle and beamed, almost proudly so. When you confirmed that Mustafa gave it to you, and started to take it off to return it to her, she stopped you and told you to wear it everyday. EVERYDAY.
"My son has given you something. You should be honoured. Cherish it." Mahidevran ordered.
The main reason you didnt tell Baris about Mahidevran and her confusing but threatening demands to court Mustafa was because of Baris's blabber mouth that couldnt hold a secret if his life depended on it.
And you have enough on your plate as it is.
You enter Mihirmah's chambers, bowing as you spot her.
"Ah! Welcome! Sit, sit!" Mihirmah pats down the seat next to her and you're slightly suspicious of her energy.
She's upto something.
You sit down beside her, opening the Quran. "I think we should start with-" She closed the book in your hands.
"In a minute. Lets talk first, hm?" She smiled at you. "How was your day off yesterday? Well rested?"
Your shoulders sag slightly. Of course, she wants to know about your day out with Mustafa. Baris probably blabbered something to spark her curiosity like this.
"Yes. A much needed break. Quite refreshing." You tell her, purposely keeping away from the details, lest she gets the wrong idea again and accuses you of whoring around your "ugly self" to her brother.
"Mmhm. Had fun with Mustafa?" Her sharp tone made you look at her.
Is she implying something?
"The prince was kind enough to get me some books." You told her cautiously, trying to ease the tension. "I think you'd like some of them-"
"Mustafa sleeps around." You blinked at her. What were you supposed to do with this unsolicited information.
"Okay...?"
She shrugged, picking up her cup of tea. "I'm just saying- he's been with a lot of women. The other day I was reading a verse from Quran where it mentioned adultery. Then I realised- thats what Mustafa is. An adulterer."
"You read Quran without me making you-"
"Mustafa is an adulterer, Y/n. Allah will not forgive him. He's doomed for hell."
"Actually, if he repents sincerely-"
"He's doomed, Y/n. Doomed." She reiterated.
"By that logic, so are most of your ancestors. I think most men, kings and princes commit adultery-"
"Mehmed doesnt." She stared at you. "He's never slept with anyone. He's a good Muslim man. Allah will be pleased with him."
What is going on here? "Um... okay. That's great news for sehzade Mehmed."
"And for you." Mihirmah announced. "You are the lucky one."
"What?"
She let out a sigh of frustration, as if she has to state the obvious. "Mehmed likes you- no, he loves you-" "Loves me?" "Shh! I'm still talking. You have caught his eye for some reason, so you should end whatever it is that you have with Mustafa and be loyal to my brother."
The room was silent, the two of you staring at each other- you, in confusion. Mihirmah, in determination.
A crow croaked outside.
"First of all, I have nothing going on with sehzade Mustafa. Secondly, Mehmed said he loves me?" You asked while trying not to show resentment.
Mihirmah scoffed. "He doesnt have to say it, I know it."
Your tension deflates to some extent. Okay, so she's just making up stuff. This can be handled.
"Mihirmah, I understand how-" you resist the urge to roll your eyes "-you may think Mehmed may be attracted to me, I am honoured, really. But I can assure you, Mehmed does not love me."
"No, I love you." Your head whips around at the sound of his voice.
Mehmed. He's standing behind you.
"Sehzade-" you begin standing up to bow to him, but he holds up a hand.
"Mihirmah's right. I love you." Mihirmah beamed proudly at standing correct.
Your eyes could only widen in horror as Mehmed sank down to sit right beside you, and with Mihirmah on your other side, you were trapped between the siblings.
"I. Love. You." Mehmed repeated, his hazel eyes staring into yours.
After several moments of silence, a crow croaked again. Mihirmah nudged you to say something.
"Um-" You cleared your throat. "Ugh... thank you."
Mehmed's brows shot up in surprise while Mihirmah broke into a fit of laughter.
"Thank... you?" Mehmed asked, and you would've thought he was mad if it werent for the amused smile on his face.
Mihirmah continued to laugh, and you had to look back at her to make her stop. "I-I'm sorry, Mehmed- this was- this was just too funny. I mean, she has a prince, the next heir of the empire confess her love and all she says is "thank you"?" She said, chuckling as she wiped the tear from her eye.
Mehmed glared at her playfully. "Well, maybe she's just shy around you." Why are they talking about you like you're not right there?
Mihirmah hummed, then nodded. "Perhaps you're right. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. I have to do something-"
"What? Why? You dont have anything to do." You stopped her from standing up. You dont want to be alone with Mehmed.
"I do!" She narrowed her eyes at you.
"Like what?"
"Like-" her eyes zeroed in on your broach. "-pretty. Mustafa gave it?"
"Yes-" you yelped as she grabbed it and pulled it off you, ripping the niqaab it was pinned with along.
"Mihirmah!" Mehmed yelled at her, his eyes stern. You could only stare at her in disbelief before turning away from Mehmed to hide your bare face now.
"Oops! I'm sorry Y/n! I'll go get you a new niqaab- this one is all torn!" She said without an ounce of remorse before leaving the room.
Mehmed shakes his head as he watched her leave, before turning his attention to you- or well, your back.
"Y/n?" He called out to you softly. "I'm sorry for Mihirmah. She... she doesnt mean you any harm. She's just- she sometimes doesnt realise how hurtful her actions can be when she's trying to help someone."
When you didnt reply, Mehmed grew slightly worried. "Y/n?" He sighed when you didnt reply. An idea popped in his head as he looked around the room before looking down.
You heard the sound of cloth ripping, your heart dropping as you assumed the worst. He wasnt going to-
Your head turned around just as Mehmed's hands encircled around your head, a red cloth blocking your view of him.
"Mehmed?" You whispered, scared. His frozen hands seemed to snap out of it and began encircling round your head, the red cloth in his grip brought closer to your face. Thats when your eyes landed on the bottom of his red shirt (kemis). It was ripped.
Mehmed had torn his shirt to make a niqaab for you.
His eyes were focused on tying the makeshift veil, securing it before they landed on you.
"Y/n?" He called your name gently again, his concern growing at the sight of tears pooling in your eyes. He softly sighed as a his hand reached up to wipe a tear that escaped your eye.
"You're that scared of me?" After a few moments, you sniffled as more tears escaped your eyes and you shook your head. "Then?" When you didnt reply, or couldnt as you continued to cry mutely, he took it as a sign that you were humiliated because of Mihirmah removing your veil.
He took a deep breath and cupped your face gingerly before pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.
"My mind is occupied by you. I think about you all the time. Perhaps...I only think about you, moon." He wiped another tear with his thumb. "I love you, my moon. I fear I... I love you too much. My heart holds so much love for you, I can hardly call it my own anymore." He then kissed your teary eyes one by one.
"I know you... you dont love me yet, but one day, when you find yourself being generous, I want you to be the one holding my heart in your hands. Its yours, moon. Yours."
-
Baris waited with a few guards and servants outside Mihirmah's room, when Mehmed left the room with a satisfied smiled on his face. Baris noted the bottom of his torn shirt but before he could comment on it, Mehmed asked him where Mihirmah was.
"She went to see sehzade Mustafa. Shall I fetch her?" Mehmed waved him off, saying he'll go get her himself, after all- Mihirmah still had to finish her lesson with you.
Mehmed had just turned around the corner when you came out of the room.
"Y/n-" Baris called out to you but you sped past him, and he didnt chase after you when he saw your red eyes.
He'll tease you later, when you're not so sad. For now, he has to report the sight of this to someone.
-
Even if Mihirmah hadnt bumped into Mustafa and proudly showed off the broach he'd gifted you, the news would've still somehow made its way to him by the servants whispers.
"Oh this broach? Its pretty, isnt it?" Mihirmah smirked, showing it off to Mustafa. "Y/n gave it to me."
"She... gave it to you?" His gift. You gave it away?
She nodded. "Mmhm. She said it wasnt that precious to her, so she gave it. She was going to throw it away, but it went well with my dress so I took it."
You were going to discard his gift? Just like that?
"Mihirmah. There you are." Mehmed walked over to her. "Mustafa." He greeted his brother.
"Mehmed." He looked at his shirt. "What happened to your shirt?"
Mehmed grinned. "Nothing." He then looked at Mihirmah. "Come on, Y/n is waiting for you. I talked to her."
Mustafa could only watch the two siblings beam at each other as the taste in his mouth soured.
His broach. Torn shirt. Mehmed "talked" to you.
Mahidevran could feel her blood boil at the complaints Mustafa brought to her. Even if he didnt, the maids she'd hired to spy on you had already reported of everything they'd witnessed. You and Mehmed alone in Mihirmah's room.
Did you not understand a single word she said? Does she need to give you a more stern warning this time?
"Hurrem must've put them upto this." She muttered, before her gaze flickered to her worried son. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dont worry, Mustafa. I will fix this. You focus on Y/n, hm? You deserve her, my lion."
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So? How was it?
Part 10 is here!
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honeytonedhottie · 11 months ago
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getting it together⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🍡
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it feels GOOD to have all ur assignments done. to actively pursue ur dreams and goals. to be consistent and in turn -> see results. it feels good to give meaning to ur time and experience sustained satisfaction. this post will give an overview/guide of the BASICS of getting it together. that way whenever u get off track (cuz we're all human) u can easily reference this and get it TOGETHER.
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SLEEP SCHEDULE - how does ur sleep schedule look? is it all over the place? fix it. the plan is to get between the range of 8-10 hours of sleep every single night (yes even on the weekends) and to wake up no later than 8 in the morning.
i recommend formulating a "get ready for bed" routine. mine is set with a soothing playlist, a cup of tea, and copious time for self care and meditating on my manifestations. ur night time routine is customizable to YOU, however the goal is to get away from screens or anything that'll tempt you to stay up at unhealthy hours.
THE MORNING ROUTINE - i think that the most influential and important time of the day is the morning. bcuz for me that sets the mood of my whole entire day, so i take my mornings SERIOUSLY and i think you should too.
for me in the morning, i do a light pilates workout/stretch to get my blood pumping, and i feel like it gives me such a boost of energy and sets the mood for the whole day so if u haven't tried i rly recommend working out in the morning. however since this post is for when you've gotten off track start SMALL. a short 5-10 minute stretch or pilates routine is more than enough.
THE IMPORTANCE OF GETTING READY - and i'll STAND ON THIS. even if ur not going anywhere at all that day, make an effort to get ready. make casual glamor a HABIT. getting ready is like, the best part of my day. its so therapeutic, something about the meticulous attention and the amount of time that i pour into myself it feels AMAZING. when u look good -> you feel good
A TO DO LIST - plan out ur week, plan out ur day, ur month. make a super cute calendar or agenda so that way you can get ur tasks done. im someone who needs super detailed instructions of what TO do, so when ik what im supposed to do i can get it done and i can get it done well. and instead of thinking of it as a to-do list, think of it as like a quest or something. tasks that u need to do and then -> you get something in return
ik it sounds rly dumb but sometimes when theres a mundane task that i know i must do, i imagine that im like a SIMS character who has no choice. or i imagine myself as a video game character who is doing it as a task cuz its part of the game. the point of me sharing that hot tip is to make it FUN for yourself. give urself something to look forward to afterwards too. like an episode of ur favorite drama, or a sweet treat.
CLEAN UP - a cluttered space = a cluttered mind. take 20 minutes aside everyday to tidy up so that then u can avoid the day-long cleaning on the weekend and actually enjoy it. when ur space is neat and organized, so is ur mind and it translates to how u view/respect urself. u show that you respect urself when u dwell in a place that it is neat and tidy.
PROPEL YOURSELF - when i've been rotting for a couple days, my go-to routine to propel myself back into my usual swing is : shower (an everything shower is a bit ambitious so go for it if u want) -> drink a COLDDD large glass of water -> do the process of getting ready and then do at least 3 tasks and 2 smaller tasks)
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harryspet · 1 year ago
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bambi eyes (2) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
word count: 4.7k
In which you've been a good girl and your Daddy Rafe can't get enough of you.
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When you opened your eyes the following day, you could still feel Rafe all over you. All at the same time, you felt him inside of you, his mouth kissing your lips, and the bed dipping beside you when he pressed his weight into you. When you slowly realized he wasn’t in bed with you anymore, part of you felt you might have imagined last night. You’d never truly enjoyed being with men, and last night, you felt closeness for the first time. Perhaps it was the combination of all the gifts and the attention he had provided you yesterday. 
You still couldn’t quite rap the idea around your head that you were the first and maybe only girl he had done this with. How long was he planning on keeping you here?
The digital clock sitting on the nightstand read exactly 8:00, and you took it as a cue to get out of bed. As you made up the bed, your mind again wandered back to last night. You imagined he left as soon as you fell asleep, and you’d let yourself get so comfortable that you hadn’t even noticed. 
You stared at the doorknob for a short while. It would be locked, you knew that, but what if it wasn’t — it didn’t matter. 
Before he left, you noticed he left you an outfit hanging on the armoire. He’d picked out a matching set of light pink leggings and a matching top. He also picked out a pair of socks that had little, tiny bunnies on them and lacy, white underwear. You brought the clothes with you to the bathroom, your fingers caressing the soft fabric of the clothing. You didn’t recognize brand, sure that it was popular with American girls.
You went through your morning routine, one that Rafe had laid out yesterday, and you found yourself having fun. You brushed your teeth as you ran your bath. There were a million bath products, and you spent a few minutes opening and smelling all of them. You settled on something sweet and flowery, and soon the aroma was spreading throughout the entire bathroom. 
You settled in the water with the bubbles enveloping you. 
You almost settled into a moment of peacefulness until you heard your bedroom door unlock. Wearing a nice plaid shirt and khaki pants, Rafe entered your small sanctuary. You sat up in the water, worried that you’d been taking too long. His eyes were soft and unthreatening, and you let yourself rest again. He took a seat on the edge of the tub, looking down at you, “Enjoying yourself?”
You nodded, “It’s nice. Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, princess,” He smiled, “You did good. Last night, I mean.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I have some exciting plans for us,” He stated before he reached into his pocket, “Here, I need you to take this.”
He placed a small white pill in your hand. You watched as he made his way over to the sink, filling up a cup of water and bringing it to you.
“What is it for?” 
“It’s, uhm, so you don’t get pregnant,” Oh. You placed the pill on your tongue, washing it down with the liquid, “I got a little ahead of myself last night. That’s why I’m going to have a doctor check you out today.”
“I’m going to the hospital?”
“No. Dr. Watts makes house calls. And he’ll be here in thirty minutes. I’ll come back and get ya’, yeah?”
“Okay,” You agreed, slightly worried that Rafe thought you needed to be seen by a doctor. 
Rafe moved to leave but stopped in the doorway, “Don’t worry, there will be time for little Rafe’s and Bambi’s. Just not yet.” 
You nodded, conveying your understanding, but in reality, you didn’t understand how he could know he wanted that with you, even in the future. After he left the room, you realized your fingers were beginning to wrinkle. You reached down to drain the water from the tub, deciding your next pressing issue was how you’d do your hair. 
There was a vanity made into the sink countertop with a place underneath for a chair to fit. You pulled it out and made yourself comfortable, looking closely through all of the drawers. You find lots of hair accessories, makeup, and other beauty products. You picked some things out that wouldn’t require a full tutorial for you to use. You also chose two pink bows to tie to the ends of your braids, taking a guess that Rafe might like that you match your outfit. 
According to Rafe, Figure 8 had a lot of these places called country clubs, and you wondered what sort of things people wore to places like that. Surely, Rafe would make sure you wouldn’t feel out of place there. If you fully earned his trust, if you continued to be good, you could probably have a normal life here. People were happy here, especially the ones that called themselves Kooks. 
The leggings fit you well, grabbing onto your curves, and the cropped pink top also fit you snuggly. 
Outside the window, you could see boats riding by in the distance and large birds that stood by the water, wading and looking for fish. You could already tell his home was large, just from the view from your room, making you curious about the rest of the house. As if he was able to read your mind, Rafe appeared again, holding the door propped open, “Let me show you the rest of Tannyhill, Bambi.”
You straightened, trying not to seem too eager as you approached the door. As you grazed past you, he rested a hand on your hip, rubbing his palm against your bottom. You looked down a long hallway with lots of old paintings and elegant-looking fixtures. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway, “This is my room,” Rafe opened double doors, and you peeked inside to see a large dark wood canopy bed.
He didn’t show you every room; in fact, he seemed to ignore one specifically. Your eyes widened when he brought you out onto a huge patio that overlooked an even more ginormous green lawn. 
“All of this is–”
“Yeah,” He finished your sentence for you, “Anyone would be happy here, right?”
“Yes,” You agreed quickly, which seemed to please him. He grabbed your hand in response, holding it and caressing your thumb with his own larger one. Although you could tell the seasons were changing, the weather felt nice, and there was a constant breeze flowing and relieving you from the heat of the sun. 
He gave you time to take in the scenery but five minutes later, you both could see a car coming down the horseshoe-shaped driveway, “That’s Dr. Watts. You ready?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
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You didn’t have much of experience with doctors but you knew already you must not be a good patient. You struggled with almost every answer that Dr. Watts asked you and, at some point, he started directing all of his questions towards Rafe. 
When was your last period? What kinds of birth control have you used? Have you ever had something called a pap smear? Do you have any allergies? What’s your family’s medical history? 
“I gave her a Plan B this morning, just to be safe.”
You found yourself just trying to keep up with the conversation they were having. At some points, you found the view outside more interesting, “There are small procedures we can do. An IUD can be placed inside the uterus, an implant can be placed inside the arm, or there is the traditional birth control pill. Right now, I can give her a shot that will prevent pregnancy for the next 3 months.”
You were sat where Rafe had placed you, on a stool in the middle of the massive kitchen. 
Dr. Watts didn’t look like what you imagined a doctor would look like. He didn’t wear a white coat; in fact, he was dressed very casually in shorts and a button-up. He also brought all the things he needed in a briefcase. 
“That’s fine,” Rafe agreed, his arms crossed. 
“Alright, so after that shot, we’ll do a couple of vaccination shots. And then I’ll take some blood for testing.”
Dr. Watts had several syringes laid out on the kitchen island, picking up the first one after washing his hands and putting on some gloves. Rafe grabbed ahold of your hand again, his eyes commanding you to look at him, “This is just to make sure you’re healthy. It won’t feel good, but it’s not a punishment.”
“Okay,” You said, although your heart was pounding, and you already felt tears in your eyes. 
“I’m right here; squeeze my hand,” He said, pushing your hair back as he gazed over your face. On your other side, Dr. Watts lifted the sleeve of your shirt. The first shot was to your upper arm, and the pinch made you squeeze your eyes tight, but it was over relatively quickly, “You’re doing so good, sweet girl. What do you think about ice cream for breakfast?”
You opened your eyes, and the calmness in his eyes was a signal to you that everything was okay, “Lana has the day off, but I can make an ice cream sundae. We’ve got everything, whip cream, cherries, chocolate sprinkles. What do you think?”
Rafe made you talk through the next few shots and when the doctor had to draw your blood, and he wiped your tears when you were all done. 
“That wasn’t so bad. I’ll walk Dr. Watts out, and we’ll make some ice cream.”
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Rafe noticed you seemed almost disappointed when he led you back to your room after your ice cream feast. He liked showing you around your new home and the place he grew up, but he wasn’t quite ready to unhook your leash. You were safest in his home and even safer within these four walls. 
Rafe took a seat at the edge of the bed, his hand still intertwined with yours, “How does your arm feel, Bambi?” 
“A little sore,” You answered, although Rafe could tell by your eyes that it was worse than what you were portraying. He pulled you gently forward, encouraging you to straddle his lap. 
“Poor thing,” Rafe said, his voice becoming even more raspy as he felt your closeness, “But hey, you did so well. You know, I’m really happy with you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’re a good little girl. I can tell that you appreciate everything that I’ve done.”
“I-I do,” You replied quickly, making Rafe smirk. 
“And you understand that I’m in control … I mean, it’s only fair. Who knows what would have happened if I left you with that man, with those people,” You nodded at his words, and negative thoughts of his father, Sarah, and his evil stepmother started to enter his thoughts, “I’m giving you the perfect life, the happy home that I never got. Whatever, I won’t get fucking mopey, but just know after all that I’ve been through, I know how to lead a family properly.”
He stopped his mind from wandering to darker places and grabbed ahold of your hips, “Thank you for … taking me away.”
“I had to,” Rafe leaned in to kiss your neck, “You’re mine now. Only mine.”
He loved that he could smell the perfume he picked out for you and feel you in the clothes he bought for you. He took so much care in creating this paradise for you. 
“Daddy’s going to make you feel better,” Rafe said in your ear, “I have to taste you. You want Daddy to taste your pretty pussy?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Tell me,” Rafe commanded, squeezing your ass with his large hands. 
“I want you to taste me, Daddy.”
“Good girl, don’t be nervous,” Rafe praised, wrapping an arm around your lower back before he swiftly turned you over, placing you gently against the bed, “I’ll be gentle, just how I was last night. Not going to fill you up, just want to taste you.”
You were quite helpless with your arm being so sore, Rafe could tell you were struggling to move it. He thought of tying you down, of course, when you felt better. He took his time with your leggings, still excited as ever to see more of you. He spread your legs, kissing your center through the fabric of your panties. Wrapping his arms underneath you, he pulled you into him, letting your thighs warm his face. He kissed you like this for a while, teasing you, making you squirm when he kissed your inner thigh. Not able to wait any longer, Rafe pulled your thin panties to the side, “There’s Daddy’s pretty little pussy,” He kissed your clit first, and the next sounds out of his mouth were guttural as he took you into his mouth. 
You tasted divine, sweet like he always called you. Rafe became relentless, waiting until you were close to your peak before he pulled away. Heavy breaths fanned over your sensitive area, and you whined because of the lack of friction, “You liked that, didn’t you, Bambi?”
“Yes, i-it feels good, Daddy,” You responded, slightly embarrassed by how quickly you got worked up. 
“Should I keep going? Does my little girl want to cum? Go ahead and ask Daddy. Tell me what you want.”
“Can you please make me cum, Daddy?” Rafe could tell in your tone of voice that maybe you weren’t sure what you asking. He hadn’t considered that you might not know what an orgasm felt like. 
“Yes, Bambi, of course. Talk through it; tell me what it feels like, sweet girl,” After those words, Rafe held you even tighter and dipped his head down again. He pressed his tongue into you, waiting to find that spot that seemed to make you cry out before he focused all the pressure there. 
“It feels …it feels–” You gasped, “It’s too much, it’s too much–” Rafe took your scattered words and cries of pleasure as a good sign to keep adding pressure. When you tried to pull away from him, Rafe knew you were having an orgasm, but he kept you there, “It’s too much, Daddy!”
Rafe pulled away, giving your clit a short break, but soon he was replacing his mouth with his fingers. Rafe shushed you, “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” He pushed two fingers in and out of you, curling them up to find the right spot. For Rafe, the best thing about being with a woman was being able to watch them have multiple orgasms in a row. This time, he’d only make you have two, but he’d soon find out what your limit was, “One more. Just give me one more.”
Rafe started sucking your clit as he moved his fingers, “Please, please,” You wouldn’t beg him to stop; you were too much of a good girl. He knew what you needed and wouldn’t let you run from it. 
He slowed his fingers as you rode out your orgasm. Rafe entangled himself from your legs, needing to see your face. You looked so cute trying to catch your breath and with your face scrunched up. Rafe brought his hands over his mouth, wiping away the wetness, “That’s my girl.”
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A few days passed in your new room. Sometimes it crossed your mind to ask Rafe when you’d be able to walk around the house or when you’d get to go outside, but you stopped yourself every time. You thought you should be more grateful towards him, he’d provided you with so many things, and he was much kinder than any man you’d ever met. He was handsome, too, with blue eyes that often made it hard for you to think when you looked into them. 
Every day was similar; there were no more visitors like Dr. Watts, and you completed your routine exactly like Rafe had instructed. Usually, you’d share all of your meals, and Rafe would leave in between for work. You got more comfortable in your own company. At first, playing with the toys felt silly, like the activities were meant for someone much younger. Slowly, it started to feel like satisfying a part of you that hadn’t existed in a long while. 
Today, you had several coloring books laid out on the ground in front of your bed, and you’d spent most of the day coloring. You liked having your dolls set up nearby so, of course, they could see your work, “What do you think, Molly?” You’d spend hours by yourself, and it started feeling natural to talk to them, “Red or blue for the spots … Blue? You’re right; blue would be perfect.”
Rafe returned to you before dinner but you noticed he hadn’t brought a tray of food like he usually did. Instead, he was carrying a large cardboard box, “I’ve got a surprise for you,” He set it down on the carpet nearby you, his face lit up with excitement. You set down your marker, crawling on your knees towards the box. Rafe kneeled down with you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a soft kiss, “You’ve been so damn good your first week; something came for you in the mail.”
You looked at him, baffled, “I don’t know what it could be.”
“Open it,” He winked at you. 
Cautiously, you pulled open the flaps of the cardboard and then reached into the mountain of packing peanuts. You pulled out a long box, immediately recognizing a doll's face, but one that looked very similar to you. It was the right skin tone and had the same curls that you did, “Really? For me?” You placed the box on the ground, just admiring her face. 
“Yeah, why should you have to play with my sister’s old things?” Rafe opened up the box even further, and you could see she was dressed in a beautiful floral gown. It was a cream color with pretty blue flowers, puffy sleeves, and an even flouncier skirt. 
“She’s so pretty … and the dress is…,” You said, unable to take your eyes off of her, “You didn’t have to; I really do like the other dolls–”
“I wanted to,” Rafe insisted, “And that’s not it. There’s something else.”
When you reached back inside the box, you felt the top of a hanger. You pulled out a clear garment bag and inside was the exact replica of the dress your new doll was wearing, and it looked your size, “For you to wear to dinner,” Rafe explained after you stared speechless, “Which, for tonight, will be served in the dining room.”
“We’ll be matching,” You thought out loud, next picking up the doll from the packaging. 
“She’s welcome to dinner if you want to bring her. She’s completely yours. You can name her and everything,” Rafe said, gently grabbing ahold of your chin, “I want to see you in your new dress, though.”
“Yes, Daddy,” You agreed, standing with both the doll and dress in hand, “If I’m Bambi, maybe she can be …Bunny?”
“That’s a cute name, sweet girl,” Rafe agreed, clapping his hands together, “Run along, I want to be surprised.”
Excitetely, you padded over to the bathroom. When you put the dress on, you were surprised by how similar they were, down to the placement of the flowers, although yours fit much shorter than your dolls. When you stepped back into the room with Bunny in your hands, you smoothed down the back of your dress so it would fully cover your bottom. Rafe’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight, and you did a small spin for him. 
“Wow, don’t you two look precious.”
His eyes looked hungry, although you could tell he wasn’t thinking about tonight’s dinner. 
For the first time in several days, you left your room, one hand tucking Bunny close to your body and your other hand intertwined with Rafe’s. The lights around the house were dim and Rafe led you to down a long hallway to a candlelit room. Although the long dining room had twelve chairs, only two places were set. Rafe pulled back the chair right next to the head of the table, and you initially missed his cue for you to sit as your eyes looked all over the room until he tapped your bottom. Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, but you still took your seat. 
In front of you was a delicious-smelling plate of steak with a red sauce, small potatoes, and carrots. There was also a beautiful flower arrangement on the table, one made of cream and light purple flowers, “You look fucking beautiful, princess,” Rafe whistled, taking his place at the head of the table, “Like a fucking painting or something.”
Rafe’s words made you smile, and his compliments often made you feel overwhelmed. You weren’t used to someone taking notice of your appearance outside of sex, and when he looked at you, he looked at you as a whole, “Thank you, Daddy,” The words were starting to feel natural on your tongue, “It looks very nice in here, and the food looks delicious.”
“You ever been on a date before?” Rafe asked, pouring something fizzy into your wine glass. You shook your head in response, “Usually, you share a meal or do an activity together; meanwhile, you’re getting to know the other person. You’re lucky you don’t have to go on a million bad dates before you’ve found the right person.”
“What makes a date bad?” You asked. 
You moved to pick up your knife but paused when Rafe grabbed ahold of it first. He took you for as well and began cutting your steak into smaller pieces, “For me, girls have always wanted … things from me. Superficial things. You think they’re listening to you when you’re pouring your heart out ���but really just thinking about how they’re gonna get what they want from you.”
You frowned, squeezing Bunny closer to your stomach, “That sounds horrible.”
When Rafe handed you your fork, you assumed you could begin to eat. 
Rafe nodded his head, taking a swig of brown liquor from his glass, “I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“Will your sister ever come to visit?” If the purpose of a date was to get to know the other person, you thought you could get some curiosities you had off your mind. 
“I have two sisters. Wheezie, she’ll probably come visit at some point, uhm but my other sister probably won’t. She’s not really welcome, anyways,” Rafe answered, poking at food on his plate, “Wheezie, though, I’m sure she’ll like you.”
Your lips pulled into a small smile, “I’ve always wanted siblings. I had some friends in the other girls, but Mas-” You stopped yourself, “We weren’t really supposed to like each other.”
“Blood doesn’t really mean anything. You should be able to choose your family,” Rafe said, “What matters is who’s loyal to you, you know?
You agreed, although you weren’t sure you really knew what loyalty felt like. As you were finishing up dinner, a loud knocking interrupted one of Rafe’s stories. Rafe seemed more caught off guard than even you were, fumbling to pull out his phone and check something, “Shit,” he cursed, “C’mon, Daddy’s got to handle some business.”
Rafe grabbed your arm as he pulled you from the dining room. He brought you to the stairs, “Go upstairs, close your door, and wait for me,” You tried to glance out the window panes by the front door but couldn’t get a glimpse of who was there, “Go.”
The strict tone in his voice made you hurry up the stairs, although once you were at the top, you ducked down and crouched behind the banister. You watched Rafe open the door, and a shorter, dark-haired man pushed his way inside, “What’s so fucking urgent that you’re showing up without calling?” You heard Rafe ask. 
“Don’t you look fancy,” The other man commented, “Having a dinner party without me?”
“Dude, what is it?” Rafe sounded impatient. 
“It’s Maybank. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have some important shit to tell you.”
“Fine, come to my office.”
Their voices faded away as they moved further into the house. You debated sneaking back down and eavesdropping, but you looked down at Bunny, her face reminding you to be good. You wandered back to your room, and like Rafe told you to, you closed the door behind you. 
He was occupied for an hour before he returned to your room. Running a hand through his hair, he breathed out a sigh, “Sorry about that,” Rafe said, taking a spot next to you on the bed. 
“Who was it?” You asked quietly. 
Rafe hesitated, “... a business associate of mine. I got some bad news. I’ll probably be gone most of the day tomorrow.”
“Can’t I go with you?”
“You still need time to adjust,” He looked down at you, “It isn’t something you’ll want to see anyways. My work is nothing a little girl like you should be involved in. I won’t let you worry your pretty little head.”
“I’m sorry …”
“I’m not mad at you,” Rafe grabbed ahold of your chin, “Before if I had gotten news like that …man, I would’ve lost my shit. But I have you, and just looking at you makes me feel better.”
His hand moved to your throat, squeezing as he kissed your lips, “I want to fuck you so bad in that cute little dress.”
You struggled to get a breath, his tongue exploring your mouth as he tightened his grip around your neck. Instinctively, you grabbed ahold of his wrist, and he pushed you back onto the bed. Just as he released his grip and you were able to take in a full breath, Rafe grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over. His movements didn’t feel like they usually did; he was rough and desperate. 
“Up on your knees,” He lifted up your waist and then lifted up the skirt of your dress, your face pressed into the bed, “Good girl, stay like that, spread open for me.”
You heard him spit before you felt him press a wet hand against your clit, rubbing, before coating your entrance. He was already hard, and he wasted no time pressing his length against your entrance. In this position, you felt him even deeper as he pushed inside of you, “Daddy,” You whimpered. 
“You’re doing so good for me,” Rafe cooed, “I know you can take more. I know you can handle it.”
You squeezed the bed tightly as he moved faster and went just as deep. Rafe kept you from pulling away, holding your hips so tight you were sure they might bruise. Unmercifully, he rocked into you, only going harder when you felt yourself reaching your peak, “I’m cumming, Daddy,” You told him, your voice muffled by the fabric of the comforter, “I’m cumming.”
Rafe grabbed the back of your throat, pushing into you harder, “Cum baby, you’re squeezing me so fucking good,” Rafe panted, “Oh, Daddy’s gonna fill you up, sweet girl.”
You felt tears begin to fall, a swirl of emotions inside you. It hurt, him stretching you over and over, and yet you felt good at the same time. You were so happy to have a home with a new Master who actually cared for you and wanted to take care of you. You were still scared that you’d wake up tomorrow and you’d be back sleeping on cold, cement floors. 
After Rafe finished, the tight grip he had changed to soft caresses. He softly rubbed your bottom before slowly pulling up the skirt of your dress, “Lay down, Bambi,” Although your muscles were sore, you crawled further onto the bed, laying down on your stomach. Rafe fell beside you, caressing your hair and then your tear-stained cheeks, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
You wrapped your arms around him as he pulled you into a deep hug. Rafe rubbed your back until you thought you might fall asleep until you heard him say, “You won’t like it if you wake up in your dress. Let’s go brush our teeth and change into our jammies. Then Daddy will tuck you in, okay?”
Weakly, you nodded against his hard chest, “Okay, Daddy.”
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part 3
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falling-star-cygnus · 7 months ago
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TADC ✨EPISODE TWO✨ SPOILERS
my thoughts on this masterpiece by Gooseworx
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they were the best part of this episode
No. 1: More Gummy Lizards
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this is the only scene that matters ever, thank you. [buddy fr said "pillow time -w-" and plopped down] -> i love that the trio is this comfortable with each other, Gumigoo doesn't even question it
No.2: Cartoon Physics at their FINEST
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man's head will not move from that spot 😭
No.3: Yes, there's even more
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this entire episode was beautiful, and these three were the stars of the show. The way it alternated between a silly little group of buddies trying to save Gumigoo's mom and existentialism? amazing -> it also, i think, plays into the way a cartoon will start off relatively lighthearted and then go entirely batshit in the second season {gravity falls, owl house, steven universe- yk?}
No.4: Ah... this again
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"but you've done this.. for what?" type energy that immediately changes into "for the love of GOD, get this out of me." -> do you think Jax ever stabbed her at one point to see what would happen
No.5: It was supposed to be ME
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Jax: I want to blow something up *something blows up* Jax: wait no-
No.6: Jax continues to be my favorite character
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literally just let him blow up the cosmos, he deserves it -> also, this episode really humanizes Jax a little bit. Not much, but he's not as unflappable as he portrays himself to be. Kaufmo's abstraction honestly affected him, despite his refusal to show it [were the theories right? were they close?]
No.7: you B*TCH
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yes i know that Pomni called him an asshole {and she was correct}
No.8: Not a thought behind those eyes
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the introduction of The Fudge raises so many questions about Candy Canyon tbh, especially paired with the gummy lizards need for a truckload of syrup -> Is the princess as altruistic as she appears? Does she genuinely care about all her subjects? Or are there are types that get snubbed? Is there discrimination between hard candies and gummy candies? Is there a gummy princess?
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quartzalynlove · 1 year ago
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Coming Home Injured
Pairing: Liu Kang, Kenshi, Johnny Cage, Raiden, Sub Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile x fem!reader (separately)
Summary: returning from a mission with a few bad injuries
Warnings: Canon typical violence, some descriptions of bad wounds
A/N: let's see if I can make personalized pet names for each of them without them being cringe. Feedback encouraged. Also if we're gonna keep writing for all 8 of these guys at once it's gonna take a minute for me to post so sorry abt that but more mk1 content is coming
Liu Kang
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The two of you sat in silence from the moment you returned home. You had completed the mission, but only by an inch of your life. The image of Liu Kang's concerned face, before you fainted in his arms, was still clear in your head.
Liu Kang assessed your injuries before treating them, trying not to be alarmed by the long, deep gash cut from your side into your abdomen. All the while, that look on his face never faded. You had seen Liu Kang when he was concerned many times, but this was different. That crease between his brows was deeper for some reason. As his hands shook, uncharacteristically, while he cleaned your wound, you finally identified the expression. It was the same one you saw when Kenshi lost his sight on the mission to capture Shang Tsung.
"Darling," your voice was weak as you looked down at him.
Immediately, Liu Kang's eyes shot up at you. With his worry growing, he placed a hand on your thigh.
"My light, please do not exert yourself."
Slowly, your hand took hold of his. Your grip was so weak that Liu Kang could hardly bear it. Instead, he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. You felt a shuddering breath against your skin as he pulled away.
"Don't you think you're a bit too concerned?" You asked.
With deep regret, Liu Kang bowed his head, not able to look at what he'd done to you.
"You shouldn't have returned this injured," his low voice started to break. "I shouldn't have—"
You stopped him before he could say another thing, "Lift your head," you told him.
Liu Kang looked up at you, slowly, his breaths still heavy and unsteady.
"You used your judgment as well as you could, and I fulfilled your orders. I came back to you."
Starting to calm, Liu Kang nodded in understanding.
"Not every round of Kombat is easy, but I'll be okay."
Upon seeing your reassuring smile, Liu Kang's breathing finally steadied, and his grip on your hand started to soften.
Kenshi
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You winced in pain as Kenshi finished a stitch on a rather brutal injury. If he hadn't gotten to you sooner, the blood loss would have killed you. What you did lose on your staggering trek back home already made you lightheaded. Kenshi insisted on you resting; he made you something to eat and made sure you were drinking water. As you laid on the couch, resting yourself after a tough mission, Kenshi was rubbing your feet. You noticed his clenched jaw and the tight line his lips formed. Part of you wished you could sit up and hold his face, but you didn't want to risk popping a stitch while it was still fresh.
"What's on your mind, Kenshi?"
He turned toward your voice before trying to dismiss you with a shake of his head. "Nothing, my flower. Please try to rest."
"Don't say 'nothing' when it's clearly something, love."
You didn't say anything else, still too out of it to try and coax anything else from him. Thankfully, he wasn't going to make you do the work.
"I should've been there," He said quietly. "If I were there to protect you, you this wouldn't have happened."
Kenshi was such a gentleman, your very own knight in shining armor, but he often piled too much on his plate without noticing. He did know he didn't have to save you every time, didn't he?
A lazy smile graced your face, "Honey, I'm fine." You told him.
"You aren't fine—"
You interrupted, "I'll be fine," you said slowly. "You've patched my wounds, forced food and water down my throat, and you're even keeping me company here and rubbing my feet. You've saved me already, my hero."
Kenshi sighed as your words put him at ease, silently accepting that you were right.
"Besides," you continued. "I'm a big girl; I can handle myself. You should ask Sento to show you the other guy."
As Kenshi started to chuckle, you wore a proud smile before feeling yourself fall asleep on the couch.
Johnny Cage
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Johnny was all over the place. While you held onto your side on the couch, he searched the area frantically for God knows what. All you could hear was his half-rambled sentences around.
"Johnny." You tried to get his attention.
He stopped for just a second just to point a finger at you. "Hey, don't move over there. I just gotta..."
As he left again, you let your head fall back, sighing in pain.
"I'm calling Liu Kang." You said.
Something in the kitchen clattered as Johnny shouted. "No, don't call him; I've got this!"
"I've been bleeding on our couch for five minutes!"
Sighing, Johnny came back again and looked at you. In any other circumstance, it would be cute how frantic he was over you. Unfortunately, however, your life was at stake and he was running around the house like the Roadrunner. Finally, Johnny finished assessing your injuries.
"Water," he snapped his fingers. "I'll get you some water."
"Johnny!" You stopped him before he could take off again.
In Johnny's defense, he was very worried. It was written all over his face. As you sighed, you spoke to him very carefully.
"I keep a first aid kit in the bathroom cabinet."
With many understanding nods, Johnny seemed to calm down before heading to the bathroom.
"First aid kit," he said to himself. "Why didn't I think of that?"
Raiden
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You didn't know how you were still alive, and if it weren't for Raiden, you'd surely be dead. Once you got through the portal, you tried to make it home to him, but Raiden ended up finding you collapsed on the academy grounds as blood quickly made a pool around your stomach. When you came to, the only sensation you could make out was Raiden's feet striking the ground as he ran with you in his arms. You must have managed to say something because you saw his eyes meet yours before darkness obstructed your vision again
The next time you woke you were somewhere indoors. A bright yellow light blinded you before your eyes could adjust. You felt Raiden squeeze your hand as your head turned.
"You're awake." He gasped.
All you could muster was a faint smile. That searing pain from the gash that opened your stomach still wasn't gone.
"Not for long." You said weakly.
Raiden's face became worried as he inched closer to you from his chair at your side.
"I must keep you awake," he said almost as a plea to you. "I've taken you to the medics, and they said if you wake I couldn't let you close your eyes again."
You whined with a frown. "It hurts, Raiden."
Raiden brought his free hand on top of yours, trying to comfort you with small rubs.
"I know, but I am here. I've got you."
As you looked at Raiden, the pain seemed to lessen. Everything felt warmer as long as you focused on him.
"I bet Shao thought he killed me." You said.
A bright smile appeared on Raiden's face at your decision to stay with him. "He is in for a surprise the next time you meet."
Sub Zero
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You were a victim of Bi-Han's cold frustration. Honestly, it agitated you more than the searing pain caused by the cleaning of the open wound across your side.
From the moment you came back to him, limping through the front door with the last of your strength, he didn't utter a sound. You remained in awkward silence as he had you sit on the kitchen counter with your back straight while he patched you up.
As he stitched you up, Bi-Han was moving at a harsh pace. It wouldn't harm your wound, but it was almost more painful than the wound itself. Bi-Han was aware of the sharp breaths you sucked in and pained gasps, but they were no deterrent to quickness.
"Bi-Han," you finally snapped at him.
With a cocked eyebrow, Bi-Han stepped back, eyeing you with such an icy glare and that scowl you thought wasn't welcome in your home.
Your eyes searched his face, hoping to find your lover buried beneath that avalanche, "You're hurting me." You said.
A scoff came from Bi-Han as he attempted to work on you once again. "This can't hurt nearly as bad as your other injuries."
You wouldn't let him come back to you, however, pushing him back with the palm of your hand. "Well, it isn't exactly helping."
Bi-Han folded his arms over his chest. "Do you expect me to coddle you?"
"Some sympathy wouldn't hurt." You spat back.
In disbelief, Bi-Han came back to you, forcing himself into your view. "You want my sympathy for the consequences of your reckless actions? My assistance is enough comfort."
He readied the needle for the next stitch, but before he could jam another hole into you, you took the needle out of his hand.
You didn't look at him as you spoke. "I would rather help myself."
After staring at you for a moment, Bi-Han walked away with a grunt. However, even as he started to leave, your wincing continued. You tried to finish the stitching yourself, but the wound was in such a place that you couldn't reach it without straining the rest of your body. Not to mention aggravating the wound itself.
Bi-Han couldn't bear to watch and listen to you struggle. You were only hurting yourself more. Casting his face down for a moment, Bi-Han exhaled before returning to your side.
Before you could begin another stitch, you felt a cold hand stop the needle.
"The stitching will be ineffective this way."
That growl had left Bi-Han's voice, and his face softened, save the deep crease between his brows. Although his gaze would not meet yours, you gave the needle back to Bi-Han, feeling in the air that his anger had dissipated. As he went to work once again, he was much more gentle, and his work didn't hurt nearly as much. Still, he was very quiet. It was clear he wasn't angry with you anymore, but something still troubled him.
Once the stitch was finished, Bi-Han went to tend to your smaller injuries, remaining so quiet and drawn away from you. As he went to clean a cut on your cheek his eyes remained fixated on the wound, not once glancing towards you. Becoming concerned for him, you stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.
"Bi-Han," you began turning to face him, but his face turned away. "Will you look at me, sweetheart?"
He couldn't; he was ashamed to do so. Although he should have had better control over himself, Bi-Han lost his temper with you.
"I was worried," he said, his face finally falling. "Seeing you come home in this state concerned me. I'm sorry I let it contort into anger."
With a small smile, you took the side of Bi-Han's face in your hand, fixing it towards you. It melted him a bit to see your face. Even after how he had acted, you still smiled at him.
"I knew of your anger long before we got together," you said. "And while it can be frustrating, that doesn't mean I'm not willing to work through it as long as you are."
Bi-Han leaned into your touch, sighing as he let his eyes close. "Just promise you'll act more carefully on future missions."
Scorpion
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Kuai Liang tended to the large gash across the length of the back. The wound was deep and wide, he could hardly fathom how this had happened to you. However, his focus remained on bandaging you before it suffered any infection. Kuai Liang worked gently as he secured the bandages around you, but you dreaded turning back to him. Once you did, you turned away quickly from his gentle face, eager to get away from where his eyes gazed. Confused by this, he stopped you, taking a soft but firm hold of your arm.
"You should let me help with getting you ready for bed. I don't want you exhausting yourself, precious."
You huffed, but couldn't lose your temper with Kuai Liang's warm eyes gazing at you. Still, you snatched your arm back, turning your back to him again.
"I can manage, Kuai Liang." Your tone wasn't exactly angry but somber instead, bringing a confused expression to Kuai Liang's face.
He started to catch up to you again, "Your injuries are very serious, Y/N." He said as a word of caution.
As your jaw clenched, you quickly turned back to Kuai Liang, your tone more serious now. "And I said I can manage."
Suddenly, a sharp pain radiated through your shoulder, causing you to wince and grab at it. You turned too fast. Kuai Liang placed a hand on your shoulder, generating the softest heat to ease the pain.
"Beloved, what is wrong," He said with concern as he turned back in front of you. "It can't just be your injuries making you this upset."
With a soft sigh, you started to break your frustration, letting the sadness you truly felt manifest in your face, "Aren't you disappointed?" You looked up at him.
Kuai Liang's brows furrowed in confusion. Your expression was so sad and apologetic. How could you think he was disappointed?
"In you," he asked in disbelief. "Of course not, precious. Why would I be?"
Gesturing to yourself, you let out a shuddering breath, "Look at me," your voice began to break. "This is no state for a champion to be in after Kombat,"
Kuai Liang felt his heart break; he knew you always held yourself to a status that kept you worthy of the mantle that was Earthrealm's champion, but he hated to see you acting this harshly towards yourself.
As tears started forming in your eyes, you continued. "You and your brothers fight to bring honor to your clan's name; you persist no matter the challenge. How can I be a champion when I haven't done the same for Earthrealm?"
You faced the floor as tears streamed down your cheek, but Kuai Liang wouldn't let you shut yourself out from him again. Lifting your head with his index finger, Kuai Liang started wiping your tears as his hands cradled your face.
"Beloved," his voice was soft as he spoke to you. "You accepted your challenge and fought with all you had. Honor isn't about winning but fighting valiantly in the name of your clan. By engaging in Kombat for the glory of Earthrealm and its champions, you have brought honor. For that, I am proud of you as I always am."
As your tears slowed, Kuai Liang gazed into your eyes with a nod of understanding. Once you nodded back, he planted a kiss on top of your head.
Smoke
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Tomas hadn't left your side since you returned home last night, and though he tried his best to conceal it, you could feel how worried he was. All of your wounds were patched up, and you were starting to feel better, but he still insisted on doing every little thing for you. It was sweet; you knew how much he cared for his loved ones, especially you, but he did know you'd be okay, right?
By the time you had woken up, Tomas was in the shower, and you were starving. It wasn't going to strain you to cook breakfast, so that's what you went to do.
You had just begun cooking when Tomas came out of the shower. When he returned to your bedroom and found the bed to be empty, he froze in fear. Frantically, he hurried around the house, looking for you. It didn't take him long to reach the kitchen where you were cooking at the stove.
"What are you doing out of bed, my love?"
You turned to see Tomas' concerned face. Smiling, in hopes you would put him at ease, you gestured to the pan of bacon on the stove.
"Cooking," you answered him. "I'm hungry; I bet you are too."
With a small frown, Tomas sighed softly as he leaned against the island, "I could've handled this." He said.
As you turned back to the stove, you nodded. "Yes, but you were in the shower. Besides, I felt like cooking."
You could hear Tomas grumbling behind you as he came closer. Suddenly, he put his hand on top of yours, trying to take the pan from you.
"I'd much prefer it if you stayed in bed, my love."
Tightening your grip, you looked back at him. "I've been in bed since yesterday evening, let me cook us breakfast."
By this point, Tomas didn't know what to do other than pout disapprovingly, but you weren't going to have it.
"Tomas," you called him. "Look at me."
With a sigh, he listened, backing up to eye you before you explained your instruction.
"I'm doing better. It's not like I'm going to fall over at the stove."
He tried to interrupt, "You don't—" But you silenced him with a hand on the center of his chest.
You continued softly. "Go sit down and wait for your food."
The two of you shared a brief look before you closed your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. Once he did, you opened your eyes to Tomas walking to sit at the table.
Reptile
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You hissed as Syzoth finished a stitch on your shoulder.
"I know it hurts, but we're almost done." He tried to calm you.
Usually, you tried to fight him when he patched you up, but you came home in pretty rough shape. The only complaining you could manage was in the form of winces and grunts. Syzoth never really minded, though. If anything you reminded him of his younger siblings when they'd hurt themselves playing.
"There," He said, putting the needle down. "You'll be fine in a few days."
As Syzoth looked at you with a soft face, you couldn't help feeling a small sense of shame.
"I'm sorry." You apologized, playing with your hands in your lap.
Syzoth tilted his head at you. "For what?"
"I can be so stubborn when you're only trying to help."
An incredulous slithering laugh started to leave Syzoth at your words, confusing you a bit. Putting your hands in his, Syzoth looked into your eyes.
"Firefly, I have faced much worse than you upset about getting a few stitches. As long as you're okay, you can bicker and grunt at me all you like."
Syzoth kissed you on the forehead before leading you to the bed.
"I never did ask how your opponent ended up." He looked over at you.
With a proud smile, you answered him. "Let's just say if I was injured the same, would have done more than bicker at you."
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whatusername00 · 3 months ago
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Which Baldur's Gate Characters Know How To Lace Up Their Clothing - Camp Edition
I got this idea because I noticed Gortash's shirt isn't laced properly, and then noticed Astarion's shirt isn't laced properly, so now I need to look at as many characters as I can because I can't stop noticing. And I'm about to spend too much time on this for it to stay in my brain. Starting with all characters who appear at camp (main party + others.)
Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Gale, Withers, Aylin, Mizora, Duke Ravenguard, Emmaline, and Arnell don't have lacing on their camp outfits.
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Starting with the default clothes for Tav. Yes, they know how to lace their shirt. Good job. This particular Tav is Durge, so it's good to know he didn't forget how when his brain got Swiss'd. However, it's not perfectly consistent because on the bottom 2 sets of eyelets he threads from the outside, but the third set he threads from the inside. Though this is probably intentional so the lacing doesn't hang on the inside of his shirt, so 9/10.
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Astarion, baby boy, you were so close. But unfortunately there are two pairs of eyelets where he threads one side from the outside and one from the inside. For someone who wants to appear so put together, you think he could take the two extra braincells to lace his shirt consistently. 7/10.
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Threaded consistently the whole way through...with one side. Why didn't you finish lacing your shirt? Why even lace one side if you weren't going to lace the other? Why isn't the lacing that you didn't finish shorter than the one that you did finish? All questions I can't answer because I cannot ask. 7/10 at least it's consistent.
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I couldn't get a good in game screenshot of Karlach since her lacing is on her pants, but I found a texture rip so I can work with it. So the lacing here is the same all the way through, super consistent, *mwah*, but...it's sneakily unnecessarily complicated. Typically, the lacing that laces from the inside to outside would sit on top, but it's not that way on her pants. She pulls the lacing through the eyelet, then threads it under the other part of the cross, then threads it through the top of the next eyelet. And with as much lacing as her pants have, this must have taken forever for no extra benefit. It would have been easier to let it sit on top. 8/10 its pretty though.
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Halsin. Beautiful. Gorgeous. I choose to believe the knots are hidden on the inside. No other notes. 10/10.
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I've never actually recruited Minthara so I took a picture from the BG3 wiki. Just like Halsin, beautiful. Again, I choose to believe the ends are hidden on the inside. 10/10.
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Jaheira's pants lace the same way Halsin's shirt does: perfectly. Though if the knot is hidden on the inside, I feel like that would be more uncomfortable, so I'm gonna headcannon that it ties at her waist under her shirt. Other than that, 10/10.
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Minsc's shirt uses the same model as Wyll's so everything I said there applies here, though I feel like it makes more sense for Minsc. My real gripe here is that Minsc is a liar. Talking 'bout some thrice laced pants, but I didn't see any lacing on those pants. How dare he trick me in this way. 6/10 I don't like being lied to.
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Yenna's mom may be dead, but she made sure her baby knew how to lace her shirt before she did. She may have gotten kidnapped by Orin, but she looked put together while doing it. Perfect 10/10. She deserves it after what she went through.
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After being dead for 100 years, Isobel didn't forget how to lace her armor. Gotta be put together to see her girlfriend again. 10/10 Isobel can do no wrong.
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Volo...I don't know what you've done to the front of your pants but it doesn't look good. Some of those crosses are missing. It looks sloppy. What is this. This is something I would do as a joke to see if anyone noticed. Well I noticed and I hate it. 2/10 it keeps your pants closed I guess.
That's it for the camp. I'll link other sets of characters below as I do them.
Tieflings
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bobbinlacebliss · 2 years ago
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Finished project: Rosemary
I was scrolling through my own blog today (as one does) and realized I never did a proper round-up post for Rosemary. So this is a bit of a retrospective I suppose! Click through for my notes on the project if you're interested - otherwise, I hope you like the pictures!
This is certainly one of my favorite pieces that I've done. I think it really turned out beautifully! But, it also stands out in my mind for having a foul, foul, truly foul number of broken threads that had to be replaced in the middle of the work. I think at least 6? The ideal number of course being zero. At the time, this sucked. I had no idea what I was doing - you can see in one of the pictures that I was referencing three different books at one point trying to figure out how the heck to fix the dang things. But in hindsight, it was valuable experience! I got a lot of practice splicing in new threads, and I also stopped being so afraid of it happening. (Though of course one still likes to avoid it...)
I am not sure why so many threads decided to part company with their fellows, but I have some theories. I'm fairly sure it's not because of putting too much tension on the thread, because it didn't snap under pressure so much as just kinda fray and drift apart. My prime suspect is the bobbins - something about this style of bobbin makes it really hard (for me, at least) to prevent them rolling wildly all over the pillow during the work, which runs the risk of untwisting the thread. This is very sad for me because I love these bobbins. But I haven't given up hope that I can still make them work. They seem to roll less on my box pillow, so maybe they can just be reserved for that pillow. Also, I'm on that "it was a bad batch of thread" copium 😅
This was also the first time I tried mounting the finished lace onto fabric, which I was very worried about screwing up but it wound up not being so bad! Sewing is definitely not my strong suit, but I got through it and am pleased with the result.
Technical Notes
Pattern: "Rosemary" from A Visual Introduction to Bucks Point Lace by Geraldine Stott
Thread: Egyptian cotton 80/2 in bright white
Gimps: 8 ply of the base thread
Pins: .5 mm pins for the picots and motifs; .8mm pins for the ground and footside
Picots: 5 twists
Started: September 14, 2020
Completed: August 11, 2021
(If you've made it this far and you somehow haven't heard enough about this project, you can check out the "rosemary" tag on my blog to see my other posts about it.)
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kingkat12 · 2 months ago
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say it (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: 18+, mentions of sex, jealousy-schemes, depictions of violence, blood, angst, fluff, Roman using his powers for no good as always
summary: many questions have been left unanswered-- is Roman really going to take revenge on the girls that hurt you, and will the avalanche of events lead him to finally tell you the words you've been longing to hear?
word count: 9,208 (holy fuck)
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9
a/n: celebrating 400 followers (???) with an extra long chapter!! thank you all again for the support of this series!! all the comments have warmed my heaaarttt omg hope you enjoy!!!<3333 love u!!
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Roman had always been highly unpredictable-- but this, I should've expected.
My hands trembled as I reached for the brand new phone in my locker, realizing he had bought me the most recent model he could find. As I picked it up, I slowly pried away the attached post-it note;
taking care of things - the one thing I do well
Knowing I had asked him not to do this, I could only sigh as I tucked my new phone away in my pocket. The day had certainly started on an odd note, but my main concern wasn't this-- it was rather the question of what Roman had done after he stormed away from my house that kept my mind occupied. 
Roman could be scary, and I was aware of this. But gifting me a brand new phone for several hundred dollars? It just proved I could never foresee his next moves. This only made me more anxious to learn why he had left my place in such a hurry shortly after seeing the cuts Jasmine had left on the back of my hands. 
As I closed the door to my locker, a group of girls passed me, their whispers catching my attention. I turned around, ready to face off with another group of bitches just like yesterday, all until I realized what they were whispering about. It wasn't me. 
I followed their gazes which were focused on something further down the hall, and it was at this moment that I spotted the man who hadn't answered any of my panicked messages or calls-- instead, he stood talking to Jasmine. 
Thankfully, it seemed to be quite a heated conversation, unlike how he usually spoke to girls. Roman's brows were drawn together in anger, nearing her slowly in his typical tactic of intimidation, clearly telling her off; I stood frozen by my locker, not bothering to suppress my growing smile at the sight. My stomach fluttered with warmth as I realized that he was standing up for me.
... However, my smile quickly faltered as I caught the change in Jasmine's face. Her lips had been pursed, her finger had been drawn forward to point at him in defense, but her whole fight-back demeanor faded within the snap of a second. It was as though she lost all the blood in her face, eyes not blinking as they met Roman's intense gaze-- everything about her state reminded me of mine yesterday, when I suddenly couldn't control my own words when I looked into his eyes and he interrogated me about my wounds. 
I couldn't deny how dangerous Roman looked, watching as he told her one last, short thing, before harshly nudging her shoulder and disappearing out of view.
Jasmine stood by her locker, completely frozen. I wondered whether she was still breathing, all until she finally moved. She slowly turned to stare into her reflection in the mirror she had hung up on her locker, still not blinking. 
I didn't think I could shriek the way I did-- the extent of my voice was something I discovered as Jasmine unexpectedly slammed her head against the mirror, a loud thud echoing through the hall. 
I wasn't the only one who had been caught by surprise, and I watched the people around her jump away in a mix of both fear and shock. 
Jasmine didn't look like herself; her eyes were dull, hollow, as she brought her head to her locker once more, now leaving bloody cracks in the mirror. 
I recognized Jasmine's posse of girls flocking to make their way through the crowds, and Letha appeared almost out of nowhere to grab her and pull her away from her locker. A shrill cry followed from Jasmine, who was clawing at Letha as though possessed. I watched as she fought, yelled-- I couldn't look at it anymore. I couldn't look at the tiny trickle of blood running down her nose, similar to Roman yesterday, or the small shards of glass she had managed to get lodged into her forehead. 
I turned away, clasping a hand over my mouth as I squeezed my eyes shut; something told me that the sight of the whole thing would burn itself into my mind forever.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
Oh, how right I was. I kept replaying the whole scene, but I had oddly enough fixated on something that wasn't the blood-- suddenly, my mind kept replaying how ridiculously hot Roman looked leaned over Jasmine with his intense, big eyes. 
I did my best not to think too much about it. I couldn't; it all brought back thoughts of how soft his lips were against mine.
Speaking of Roman, I didn't expect to talk to him at all today. He still hadn't answered any of my messages, so I assumed he needed time away to cool off.  However, I knew I had him cornered when I accidentally walked into the chemistry lab, catching him in the middle of... an experiment?
This was certainly a new side of Roman which I hadn't seen before-- I had never seen him do anything school-related, as I had gathered he didn't care much for it from our study sessions at Letha's place before everything happened. But here he was, so consumed in whatever he was doing that he didn't acknowledge that I had closed the door, leaving us alone in a confined space.
I pressed my back against the cold door, watching him from afar. Something about how calm he was made me uneasy; why was he so focused? Roman, captivated by the small, compact container before him, kept his eyes on his work as he spoke; "Are you lost?"
My brows drew together as I watched him pour a liquid gel into the container which contained what looked like blood-- he was so meticulous that it gave me an inkling that he had done this several times before. "No," I mumbled, clearing my throat as I fought my queasiness at the sight of his experiment. "What are you doing?"
Roman barely reacted to my question, busy with putting the container into a machine nearby. "Genetic testing,"
"Since when do you know how to do that?"
Annoyed by my continuous interruptions, Roman's gloved hand put the blood-box into the machine and pressed a button to start it, finally looking up to meet my nervous, flickering gaze. "You certainly have a lot of questions today," he huffed, adjusting his protective glasses. "My turn. How are your hands?"
I suddenly became very aware of the cuts on the back of my hands, and my eyes diverted down to watch my thumbs nervously brush over my wounded skin. "They'll heal. I'm not too worried about it," My next inquiry was one I was wary to say, but it became obvious to me that I had to; "I'm more worried about why you stormed off like that last night."
Roman didn't move a muscle, watching me with a blank look on his face. "You told me to go,"
"Come on," I was reminded of what my state had led me to yesterday; the way I wanted to push Roman away, to never see him again. But here I was, standing before him with no greater wish than to run to him. "I was worried sick that you'd do something... You looked like you were ready to kill someone." It was at this moment that I dared to look back at him and suddenly caught a glimpse of the hickey I had left on the side of his throat-- I immediately felt a familiar warmth creep up my cheeks, leaving me with a flustered, reddening expression on my face. "What did you do?"
Roman tilted his head to the side, scanning my state. "I haven't done anything--"
"Then why did you?--"
"Major," Roman bit down on his lower lip, trying to suppress his shameless grin. The familiar spark in his green eyes returned, and I could see it perfectly clear through his protective gear-- no matter how worried his words made me, that look never failed to make the butterflies in my stomach explode all over the place. 
I had to pull myself together, but my voice came out frail and shaky; "You're kidding, right?"
I recognized Roman's wish to remain reactionless and the way he fought the rounding out of his big, green eyes. It seemed to dawn on him that I was genuinely concerned. "... Sure. But what did you think of what happened this morning with Jasmine?"
"What?" That was certainly unexpected-- "Why?" I wanted to ask what he had said to her, but something told me he wouldn't tell me the truth about it anyway. Instead, I opted to find comfort in the fact that he had confronted her for my sake. 
Roman shrugged before his attention moved back to the machine. It was beeping rather obnoxiously, a sound impossible to ignore. He got back to work, pressing a few buttons here and there; "Just wondering. Did it not make you feel good to see her like that?"
I couldn't put my finger on why he was asking these peculiar questions. "Well... No? I was mostly scared. I've never seen anyone have a nervous breakdown before, and I didn't expect something like that to happen to Jasmine,"
"Nervous breakdown," Roman echoed, checking some numbers he had written down on a sheet nearby. Something told me he was upset I wasn't over the moon about it. "Don't you feel like she deserved it?"
It was mind-boggling to hear him talk like this, with such nonchalance about a girl slamming her head bloody-- I had suppressed the memory of this side of him. The inclination to anything pain-related, the scorching look of amusement in his green eyes at the sight of my flaring anxiety, and the infamous fucking needles. How he had gotten hard when seeing how scared I was when we hid from Letha on our first date. 
I hated every reminder of this side of Roman. Hated it. 
"I don't think anyone deserves to be driven to that," I mumbled, picking at my nails out of nervous habit. "I didn't know she was dealing with anything that would lead her to do that. Maybe that's why she acted out yesterday? I hope that's the reason, and not because Letha sent her to do it... " With a sigh, I brought my hands up to rub my temples. "It was so damn scary... The whole thing. And ever since, my head has been hurting like crazy."
Taking in the silence that ensued, Roman tapped the spot next to him on the counter-- come here.
I held my breath as I made my way over with shy steps, hoisting myself up on the cold surface. I watched as Roman removed his gloves along with the protective glasses, now reaching forward to part my legs and make space for himself between them. He listened to the hitch of my breath as he laid his hands on my hips, his calculated gaze scanning mine whilst pulling me towards him. 
By instinct, I rested my hands on his broad shoulders, taking in the moment our breaths became shared. Right now, it was impossible to believe that I had made the wrong choice in choosing him over my friendship with Letha-- something about the tenderness with which he was touching me, told me he was changing right before my eyes. 
With baby steps, of course.
Roman seemed to be taking pity on my state, softly nudging his upturned nose against mine. "Try not to think about it too much," he breathed, watching as I closed my eyes to savour the moment. "Trust that I know how to take care of this."
No, no, no-- "Please don't say that," I pulled away, my hands slowly reaching for his face, searching for the intent behind his eyes. "I know you well enough to know that you're capable of things I don't want to get into, and honestly? You scare me when you say shit like that."
Roman's brows drew together in a troubled look; "I scare you?"
"Yeah," I breathed, stroking my thumbs across his cheeks. "You and your infamous needles and stuff."
A drawn-out groan ensued-- "Again with the fucking needles!--"
"Roman!" My grip on his face hardened in an attempt to keep his focus. I watched his green eyes widen, clearly not used to being handled like that. "Whatever it is, please snap out of it! You can't even tell me that you're into me, but you're ready to go back to being all dark, and for what? My honour?"
Something in Roman's eyes changed-- For once in his life, he was stunned, unable to utter a proper response. 
Overcome by a newfound sense of confidence in his unproclaimed feelings for me, I gently twisted my fingers into the nape of his neck, pulling him in for a soft kiss. Roman let out a relieved sigh against my lips, his grip on my hips tightening as he moved me closer to the edge of the counter, closer to him. 
It took a lot of willpower to disconnect our kiss, the warmth of his touch luring me in. "I'm serious," I said, nudging his nose as I felt his breath hot against my upper lip. "I can stand up for myself--"
"Shut up," Roman's lips came crashing against mine with a hunger I hadn't expected, especially knowing we could be walked in on at any moment. But I gave in, letting his greedy hands travel further to grab my ass, pressing me against him as his tongue moved softly against mine. 
Usually, I'd taste the hints of his cinnamon cigarettes, but today there was nothing-- I knew he didn't smoke the days he knew he had to be focused. There wasn't much time to ponder why, especially now that our kiss heated further.
As I felt Roman drive his teeth into my lower lip, I could only whimper against him. My grip on his hair tightened in an attempt to pull him even closer, but the sharp sting of the tug only fueled Roman's obvious growing need for more. 
It was building in me as well-- in my anxious daze, I had forgotten how good it felt to feel him against me. How thrilling every touch, every kiss, every little breath was. And if anyone had told me a month ago that Roman Godfrey would be grabbing my ass in the chemistry lab, I would've probably fainted; which I struggled not to do right now.
And I knew we would've gone further, beyond all restrictions and rules of the school, had the door not opened with a loud creak.
Squeaking, I pushed Roman away out of pure instinct. He didn't go very far, feet planted to the ground, as his hands trailed down to rest comfortably at my thighs when he met the eyes of the intruder of our moment.
Letha still held onto the doorknob as though her life depended on it, knuckles nearly turning white at the sheer force-- she inhaled sharply, not yet able to exhale. 
I felt like an icicle, frozen by fear on the counter after meeting the eyes of my ex-best friend. Roman's hands on my thighs burned, the realization of being caught in such a compromising position making me want to burst into flames like the witches of Salem. 
Roman took the lead, catching onto the intense staring-contenst which ensued between me and his cousin; "Did you need anything?" he asked, gaze hardening. 
Letha cleared her throat, letting go of the door. I couldn't help but notice the slight shake of her hands. "I need to talk to you, Ro," 
"I don't want to talk," 
She sighed, visibly fed up with her stubborn cousin; "We didn't finish this conversation yesterday. Don't act like we're not still talking because she's here,"
Oh? I held my breath, my nervous gaze moving to Roman. He remained unfazed, but the minuscule twitch of his eye revealed that he didn't enjoy that information being aired out. "What do you want?"
"To talk. It's important," Letha glanced at me once more, an unintelligible emotion glossing over her eyes as she looked back at me; "Could you please leave?"
It took a few seconds before I realized she was talking to me. The coldness in her voice broke my heart all over-- I didn't have the energy to fight her. Uncomfortable and mortified by the situation, I nodded to myself before sliding off the counter, Roman's hand never leaving me. He now held onto my arm, not letting me go just yet. Leaning down to my level, he made sure he had my attention before he spoke in a hushed tone; "My number is already in your phone. Give me a text when you're free for lunch,"
My heart leaped up into the air as Roman pressed his lips against my forehead, the sincerity of the gesture flustering me beyond any previous point-- it was especially meaningful now that he did it in front of Letha. Realizing there was no going back, I got up on my toes to give him a short, soft kiss, feeling the plushness of his lips against mine before making my way to the door.
Passing Letha might've taken less than a second, but it felt like hours. I felt her green eyes burn into me, a sense of shock apparent in her body. We exchanged a short look, and I wondered whether I imagined the look of longing that so clearly streaked across her face; I didn't allow myself to dwell on it.
After closing the door behind me, I realized I had been holding my breath. I took a moment, regaining my composure before I got ready to kick off the door-- all until it dawned on me how clearly I could hear Letha's voice through the wall. My heart stopped, realizing I was about to do something I never thought I'd do; I pressed my ear against the door, mentally beating myself up for doing this.
"I see you guys are still getting along," Letha said, her fingers tapping against the door. "That's longer than any of the other friends you've stolen from me."
Roman groaned-- I didn't need to see him to know that he was rolling his eyes. "Get to the point,"
I drove my body closer to the door to hear them better, hearing Letha stepping away from the other side of it to come closer to her cousin. "Tell me why I had to drive Jasmine to school today because the wheels of her car had been punctured? Or even worse, how she got a note under her bedroom door saying she should watch her back?"
There was a long silence before Roman finally answered, a hint of humor in his voice; "... Maybe she should, then?--"
"Ro, you were in her house! Are you out of your mind?!"
As he groaned, I could almost see his usual annoyed stance and the way he grabbed the surface in front of him as his anger simmered to a boil. "Me? I would be more concerned about your own mind if I were you! Your cunt of a friend would've done it all again in a heartbeat if I hadn't scared her a little!"
Letha gasped; "What are you talking about? You have no right to call her a!--"
"That bitch hurt her!" Roman's fist came down against the counter, the thud making me jump away from the door. "Have you seen the state of her hands? How do you expect me to react when our petty bullshit comes down to this?!" 
I imagined the stunned look across Letha's face, the way her eyes widened as her lips parted, unable to find the right words. Eventually, she spoke; "Jasmine did what?"
I pressed myself harder up against the door, closing my eyes as it dawned on me how concerned Letha sounded. Everything about it made my heart swell with hope-- this meant she hadn't been the one to send Jasmine and her girls. If anything, she sounded horrified about the ordeal.
"Yeah... She did. And when I talked to Jasmine this morning, she seemed quite proud of it. You should be damn happy I didn't kill her on the spot," I heard the humming of the blood machine starting again, along with the snapping of gloves being pulled back on, indicating that Roman was back to work. "But does Jasmine suspect it's me?" he asked, a certain nonchalance about him. "The car and all?"
Letha sighed, trying to contain her outbursts; "She has no idea. And now she's just rambling incoherent things after what happened this morning... I think she's concussed,"
A hum. "Good,"
I clasped a hand over my mouth to suppress a snort. Against my palm, I could feel my growing smile as I realized this confirmed that Roman wasn't motivated to take revenge on Jasmine to quench his thirst to cause fear, but that he cared for me.
He cared for me.
My smile only grew as I stepped away from the door-- He cared for me. He cared for me!
Now, what remained was for Roman to actually own up to it... And I realized I was grinning as the perfect idea of how to get it out of him came to mind. But my plans came to a hard stop when Letha's voice sounded through the door once more; "Whose blood are you using this time?" she joked, trying to lighten the mood. I grimaced as I walked back to the door; I felt bad listening in on their conversation. Still, I imagined Letha was pointing at the machine Roman was using, as it kept making noise. 
"Jasmine's," Roman mumbled. "Got enough scraped off her locker to make a sample."
"Ro, that's not funny!--"
"Why haven't you girls made up yet?"
Letha sounded confused as she mentioned my name, not having foreseen the change of subject. "Are you seriously asking me that?"
"Yeah? It's getting annoying at this point. I thought this would blow over several weeks ago," With another loud beep, Roman stopped the machine. "She talks about you a lot. Gets all quiet when I tell her we're having family dinner at your house... And she still has a picture of you two by her bed."
"Oh, and how do you know that? Did you spot it one of the times you were reaching for the condoms on her nightstand?"
His breathing got harder, choppy, before his frustration sounded through his answer; "It's not like that,"
"Okay, then," Letha snorted, clearly not sold. "I'll put it simply for you. How would you feel if I fucked your best friend?"
"Ew, don't give me that mental image!--"
"Fuck you, just imagine a world where I would be enough of an asshole to do that! Imagine I slept with Peter. How would you feel?"
Roman took his time to answer, clearly flustered. "... I get it, okay? I get it!" 
"No, you don't," I could almost see the way Letha now avoided his gaze. "But... did it have to be her? Why couldn't you mess around with anyone else, why did you choose the first girl I trusted to get close to me after you screwed all my other friends?"
Learning of his previous conquests with Letha's long line of friends made me sick, but I focused on the fact that Roman remained quiet. Honestly, I would've cut off my left arm in exchange for seeing him right now. I wondered whether he could meet her eyes or not, and whether he was defensive or anxious. 
Eventually, Roman answered; "She... sees me. And she makes me feel good about myself. So I'm sorry your bitch-friend got hurt or whatever, but I'm just trying to return the favour,"
I had to do a lot to contain my instinctual jump of joy-- I was two seconds away from skipping down the hallway like a German child in a fairytale. Everything about this conversation made me want to squeal and melt into the door. 
However, the other part of me hurt for Letha. Hurt for the girl who knew me better than anyone else, hurt for the first person to have shown me true friendship. I hoped that we could get together someday, to talk it out like people, and not like the two crazy families from Romeo and Juliet. 
The rest of the conversation quickly became a childish spat similar to one between siblings-- I stepped away from the door, making sure to keep breathing. 
The most important thing I gathered from that conversation was the fact that Roman saw me and that he definitely had feelings for me. However, I couldn't quite put my finger on why he couldn't say it to my face. If he was willing to go so far as to scare off Jasmine for my sake, why couldn't he look me in the eye and tell me what he truly felt about me? I knew it would make me feel much better to get his feelings for me confirmed-- the fact that he was evading it left me uneasy. Uncomfortable. And quite frankly, it only made me further insecure.
What if I had sacrificed my relationship with Letha for someone who would never commit to one with me? 
My mind returned to the plan I previously made up with my ear pressed to the door; maybe Roman just needed a push in the right direction?
Either that, or I had been led on like the biggest idiot of the century.
I couldn't do this anymore-- I needed to know.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
And so, it was all set in motion. 
The first part of the plan was to find out whether it was necessary to have a plan at all. This, I decided to investigate in the backseat of Roman's car. 
It used to be a place that I refused to step foot in after hearing of his cheerleader-conquests. However, right now, it was a place of comfort and peace; he had parked it somewhere desolate, per my request. My parents had gotten suspicious after hearing steps on the roof the other day, and were now watching the whole area around our house like hawks to spot any possible intruders. So, as I didn't want to be caught sneaking a boy into my room, I told Roman to get creative-- and he had hit the jackpot.
This summer night was nice and warm, and we lay curled up in the back of his car as we stared up at the starry sky; this was one of the perks of Roman's car having the function of pulling down the roof. He sat with his back against the car door, me between his legs with my head leaned on his shoulder, the both of us looking up at tonight's constellations decorating the darkness above. 
"I'm not even going to act like I know what that one is," I mumbled, pointing up at the scatter of stars. I wrapped myself further up in his sweater, tracing patterns over the arm he had around me-- the night air was crisp, filled with the earthy scent of grass and the faintest hint of rain as my body filled with a certain satisfaction I hadn't felt in a while.
Roman chuckled, pressing a kiss against my cheek as his arm pulled my back flush against his chest. Like this, I could spot my hair ties still worn around his wrists. "It's the Little Bear constellation," he murmured, his long, slender fingers rubbing circles into my side. "See how it looks like a bear cub?"
I decided not to lie; he'd see right through me, anyway. "... No,"
"No?" Roman reached forward to grab my hand into his, closing one eye to position my hand properly with his vision. "Even if I trace it for you?"
It was impossible not to blush. His hand against mine, his warmth against my skin-- everything about this was so incredibly intimate, and I had to hold myself back from simply jumping him out of pure joy. "I-- Well," It was hard to speak when I was this flustered. I swallowed hard before trying again; "I don't think bears have long tails like that."
Roman seemed amused by my answer; "You make a good point," he purred, gently intertwining our fingers before bringing my hand towards his lips, pressing a kiss against my cuts. "As always."
I only blushed further, not bothering to suppress my smile anymore. Turning to him, I watched his big, green eyes meet mine with a softness that nearly made me melt right into him. "How do you even know all of this?" I asked, leaning my head on his shoulder. "You don't strike me as a constellation nerd."
Roman rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. Something told me he was charmed by the subtle compliment of his intellect; "Is it hard for you to believe I'm not braindead?"
"Maybe," I turned back towards the stars, hoping he wouldn't spot my grin. "Pretty boys usually don't even know how to count to forty."
Chuckling, Roman nuzzled his cheek against the top of my head, wrapping both arms around me again. "So now I'm pretty, huh?"
"Yeah," I mumbled, deciding to be blunt-- I didn't gain anything by lying to him about it, anyway. Not after everything we had been through. "I think you're really damn pretty."
Something told me he hadn't expected the frankness, or for me to even be truthful at all. Roman remained quiet, taking in the sweetness of the moment. He took the time to kiss my temple, humming against my skin; "I think you're pretty too," he murmured. "Very, very pretty."
There was no way to suppress the blush burning its way up my cheeks, and I closed my eyes to savour the moment he kissed me. Roman was being so gentle, so loving-- I couldn't believe this was the same boy I had been running away from because I was scared he'd prick me with his scary needles. He seemed to notice how flustered I got from the compliment, letting out a warm chuckle as his gaze turned up at the sky again. As he pointed out a new constellation, Roman's voice was laced with a kind of wonder that made me smile; "If you want the full answer, it is the fact that there's something more up there that makes it interesting. Something much bigger than us... Something worth reaching for, y'know? The stars are just a blatant sign,"
I turned to look at him, watching the way his green eyes sparkled almost as brightly as the stars above us. Roman was so painfully beautiful, and so wonderfully at ease-- there was nothing I wanted more than for him to feel this peaceful all the time. I knew it would be good for his soul. 
I wondered whether Roman knew that he was something worth reaching for, as well. 
Everything about this evening made my body feel like gelatin. I couldn't even feel my fingers anymore, engulfed in the euphoria that was Roman. This was the perfect distraction from everything that had happened this week, and I realized it was also the perfect time to set my plan in motion; "So... you're willing to admit I'm pretty, but you're not going to say it?"
"Say what?"
I shrugged, feeling myself grow nervous. Roman was usually the one to mess up cute moments by saying something stupid, but I wondered whether now was my turn. "That you like me,"
However, he remained unfazed-- or, at least he was very good at acting like he was. His silence made me further anxious, now starting to wonder if I was the reason he wasn't able to say it to my face. Maybe he wasn't as into me as I had thought? Maybe this was just how he treated every girl he liked? 
I knew it wasn't, but I realized I was spiraling; I needed him to spell it out for me. I really, really hoped he would-- then I wouldn't have to go that dreaded extra length and go into phase two of my plan.
Roman pressed his lips against the top of my head, clearly lost in thought as he brought me back from mine. "Do you need me to?"
That was a good question-- one I knew the answer of. "I think so, yeah..."
"You need it spelled out?"
"Yeah,"
"Verbatim?"
"Verbatim, Rome,"
The nickname seemed to throw him off; he let out a breathy chuckle, shifting to get a good look at me. "Since when am I Rome to you?"
I shrugged, meeting his green eyes. "Since... now?"
Roman smiled down at me, clearly flattered. "Cute," he breathed, leaning in to place a sweet kiss against my cheek. I giggled as Roman's fingers dug into my skin, pressing me further up against him in a flash of passion-- although this moment was perfect in theory, I knew I hadn't gotten what I wanted out of him tonight, and I dreaded what I had to do because of it.
Quite frankly, I dreaded it mostly because I was very well aware that the second part of my plan was incredibly high-risk. Stupid. Reckless, even.
However, I didn't see any other way of forcing those three words out of Roman that I needed so much. How else was I supposed to prove to myself that I hadn't sacrificed my friendships for nothing?
I dreaded every single step up I took as I made my way through the cafeteria the next day. In my peripheral view, I saw Roman sitting next to his best friend, Peter, chatting away about something as none of them had noticed me yet. It was only when I caught Roman's eyes that my heart started racing-- I watched his confusion build as I started walking in the opposite direction.
Determined, I knew this was the perfect moment to execute the second part of the plan. I did my best to keep my face neutral, hoping not to be visibly bothered by Roman's watchful stare, as I deliberately sat down next to Daniel-- the guy who had flirted with me at an assembly a month ago. 
I specifically chose Daniel because I remembered Roman saying he had noticed me talking to him; I also knew that this guy was the key to making him see the consequences of staying unofficial. 
I didn't need to look at Roman to know he was seething.
Daniel turned to me, putting down his fork. We hadn't talked since I started seeing Roman and stopped responding to his messages-- he was visibly confused, but there was a certain sparkle in his blue eyes that gave away his delight. "Hi?" He quickly turned to his friends who were all staring at us and motioned for them to get back to their own shit. 
"Hey, you," I shifted in my seat, attempting to make myself comfortable whilst Roman's gaze drilled holes into the side of my skull. "Haven't seen you in a hot minute. How are you?" Putting on my nicest smile, I tilted my head a little as I spoke-- that used to work on him. 
Daniel blinked twice, clearly unsure what to say. "Uh... Yeah, of course I haven't seen you, you've been busy with Roman," His eyes darted over to the latter, watching as my very unofficial boyfriend glared daggers his way. "I'm fine now, but I'm afraid I won't be later if you don't move soon."
This had been one of the driving factors of me not falling for Daniel-- this guy was an absolute wuss. I did my best not to roll my eyes, knowing how to rope him back in again; I placed a gentle hand against his arm, rounding out my eyes as Daniel turned back to me. His blonde hair fell over his eyes, a bright contrast to the dark blue of his varsity jacket, as his heart visibly skipped a beat. 
"You want me to move?" I tried, keeping my tone soft as I gave his arm a short squeeze.
In my peripheral view, I caught a glimpse of Roman stiffening in his seat. His green, intense eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and his fingers tapped impatiently against the table as his mood darkened. That same, unmistakable anger looming over him like a dark cloud worried me-- I knew I didn't have much time to make my point before he'd explode. 
However, distractingly comical, was the sight of Peter next to him, debating whether to put his hand on his best friend's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down; his hand kept jerking back and forth, jumping with every twitch of Roman's eye.
Daniel swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving mine. "Well... You don't have to move," He cleared his throat, giving in to a nervous chuckle. "You're already here, I guess. Pretty as always."
I had to fight my instincts to not throw up in my mouth-- it made me physically ill to flirt with him when I was so sickeningly crazy about Roman. "Oh, you're too kind," I tried, forcing a smile.
Daniel flashed me that typical heartthrob smile of his, finally giving in to my antics. He tilted his head, mimicking me, as his eyes sparkled with want; "Fuck, I've missed seeing you around,"
That seemed to be enough for Roman-- his possessive intensity came to a simmer, boiling over. He kicked away his chair as he got up, an angry groan escaping him as stormed off with balled fists. Peter sent me a sharp look of come on before he left his food behind to follow his best friend.
That was my cue to leave. "I, uh... Sorry," Releasing Daniel's arm with a quickness I didn't know I had in me, I practically jumped out of my seat, allowing myself to shudder when I was out of view. I didn't like touching any other guy like that, but I hoped that Roman would take the time to let it dawn on him that this could be his reality if he didn't step the fuck up.
... I really hoped that would be his conclusion. 
However, it dawned on me that this might've been my biggest misstep so far. I had learned that one of the most important things for Roman, was loyalty-- maybe I shouldn't have toyed with his perception of mine?
Putting it all together, I realized I should've expected it to blow up in my face.
The third and final part of my plan had been simple in my head; Roman would confront me about what had happened in the cafeteria, and then he'd tell me he couldn't stand the sight of me with another man and therefore wants us to be official.
... It seems that I had gotten in over my head.
The exact opposite of that happened. Now, Roman wasn't answering my calls. He would walk past me in the hallway as though I was a ghost, even though the fading hickey on the side of his neck served as a reminder of our time together. I hadn't expected him to ignore me like this, I really hadn't-- he was utterly unforgiving.
It had been three days of no contact. No shared glances, no exchanged words, simply because I got too confident. Why had I thought it would be so easy to get what I wanted? Why had I felt the need to drag a confession out of him when his actions spoke for him?
Roman had made sure none of Letha's friends would touch me again-- or, at least in the near future, seeing as the main instigator was at home with a severe concussion. He had put in a good word for me with Letha, he had bought me a new phone, and he had opened up enough to both accept and enjoy physical affection. Why hadn't I seen it this clearly before I messed it all up?
It all came down to one moment in the hallway. 
Exhausted and alone, I had zoned out like I usually did to distract myself from everything as I rummaged through my locker for my book. My body felt heavy with the sadness coursing through my veins, knowing I had no one anymore. No one. My every moment was slow, not having the energy to hurry much as I spent an unusual amount of time looking for the specific book I needed.
Up until my body froze at the sight to my right.
My head slowly turned to watch what was happening a few meters down the hall. There he was, the man that had haunted my every waking moment, vexed my every thought, with a girl. 
Roman had that classic heartbreaker look about him as always, leaning his hand next to the girl's head against the locker. From this angle, I could see the upward turn of his nose, the way his smirk painted across his lips, and the way his eyes practically sparkled at the sight of his next prey.
The most jarring part about it was the fact that I could still see my hair ties around Roman's wrist as his palm lay flat against the locker behind her, almost as though it was on purpose.
It became downright nauseating when the girl giggled and started twirling her finger around her hair-- I did my best not to throw up my breakfast. Questions raced through my mind, fogging up my brain; why was he doing this here, in front of me? Why was he doing this at all? 
I was sure this was what people meant when speaking of tasting their own medicine.
I stood frozen by my locker, one hand still shoved beneath the rubble of books, as involuntary tears pressed up against my eyes. I tried to ground myself with a few deep breaths, yet the world around me felt as though it was crumbling. All these games were so damn childish from the both of us; when would it end? I was living through my worst nightmare, and it became a hundred times worse when I realized I had been warned about this before by Roman himself.
I was reminded of the first night we kissed in that closet during seven minutes of heaven;
Roman stilled, eventually letting out a hum which sent a shiver down my spine. "You know nothing about nightmares," he breathed against my lips. "If I tell Letha we fucked in here, you'll be living through your worst one."
Oh, if only he'd known how right he was. Now I had no one to run to, no one to seek comfort from, all because of my own stupidity. Not only had I managed to lose all my friends, but now I had lost the one thing I had sacrificed everything for; Roman.
A pit formed in my stomach as I watched him lean closer to her, laughter dancing between them. Didn't he know how much that hurt? Didn't he see me standing here, shattered? I was so lost in the shock, that when Roman turned to face me, revealing that he knew exactly where I was and that I was watching, I barely registered it. My eyes had welled up in tears, looking completely shell-shocked as I watched his smirk immediately falter at the sight of my watery gaze.
In a flash of action, I slammed my locker shut, not bothering to look for my book anymore. I needed to get away. Now.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
When I got home that same day, I had expected to be left in peace-- that was the most logical conclusion. My parents were at a loss with what to do with me, and of course I had no friends reaching out to check up on me. I was quite sure I had hit the lowest of the low, simply sinking into a state of forced apathy as I lay with my face down into my pillow, spreading out on my bed wearing Roman's enormous sweater. I was quite sure I had been like this for hours, not getting up, not eating-- I didn't care anymore.
I couldn't care; it would break me. Just like that sight of Roman with that girl. 
I touched my neck, feeling the soreness of my fading hickeys as lightning struck outside. There were barely any traces now, and the realization that they would be gone in a day or two hit me like a truck. Thankfully, I didn't have many tears left in my body. I lay in the coldness of the puddle of grief I had left on my pillow, shivering as it dawned on me that I might never feel Roman's lips against mine again. Never feel his hands around my waist, never be in the back of his car, and never get to lay in his arms ever again. As the heavy rain continued to tap against my window, every drop felt like a reminder of the moments we'd shared, slipping away.
I remembered that first time Roman smiled at me in class. Every memory came to me; the rush of excitement coursing through my veins during our first kiss, the feeling of laughing with him at that café on our first date, and the way I would sometimes wake up to Roman's arm tightly wrapped around me in a protective, loving embrace. He wanted to hold me, even in sleep. 
He wanted me. Roman Godfrey wanted me, and I threw it all away because of my incessant need for him to commit.
And just as I was about to choke out any remaining tears, I heard a knock at my door. I didn't care to move, knowing my parents knew of my state, as my words got muffled against my pillow; "What is it? I'm not having dinner!"
"That's not it," My parents seemed to be whispering between themselves before one of them continued; "Sweetie... there's a boy for you at the door."
I bounced off of the bed as though I had heard a gunshot, and I landed on the floor with a groan as I crashed down against the hard wood. Wondering whether the thud had sounded through the ceiling downstairs, I realized I didn't have time to think about that; "Okay, give me-- Give me a second!" I got up from the floor, feeling my breath get stuck in my chest as I ran to my mirror, doing my best to fix the way I looked before leaving my room.
My thoughts were racing as I made my way past my parents, realizing they were staying upstairs to give us some space. I didn't need to guess who the boy at the door was-- still, I froze halfway down the stairs at the sight of him.
There he was, drenched in rain. Roman took a deep breath at the sight of me, watching the way his sweater draped over my shoulders with his big, green eyes. He, too, seemed to have frozen to his spot like an icicle, and a thick silence ensued as I gripped onto the banister of the stairs-- I was afraid I'd faint and roll right down. As he stood there, cold and vulnerable, I felt the walls of insecurity I had built up begin to crumble; his presence was both a comfort and a reminder of everything I'd lost.
Even worse was the way I tensed up, ready for him to yell at me and blow up. My grip on the banister tightened to suppress the subtle shake of my hands as I held my breath.
Finally, Roman spoke-- but it was far from what I had imagined him to say; "I don't know what happened. It doesn't make sense," His eyes rounded out, so heartbreakingly sincere. "We were good, and suddenly we weren't. I made sure you were safe from those girls, and then you went and flirted with that assembly guy... It doesn't make any sense."
I let in a long, shaky breath, feeling the guilt seeping through my veins. "I thought... I thought I needed you to say it,"
"Say what?" Roman shivered, clearly cold from his wet clothes. It made me wonder how long he had paced back and forth in the rain before approaching the door. "That I like you?"
My cheeks burned-- "Yeah..."
Another wave of silence ensued as Roman no longer met my gaze, biting his teeth together as he tried to steady his breathing. I could feel hints of his brewing anger beneath his attempts to keep calm; "Did you need me to say it so bad?" he mumbled. "Have I not shown you what I feel for you? Was it not blatantly obvious?"
Everything about his tone made me want to burst into tears-- it made me feel seven again, being told off in front of the whole class. "I'm sorry," I didn't know what else to say, at a loss for words. "You're just so hot and cold sometimes, I thought it would make me feel better if I got it confirmed. I sacrificed so much to be with you, and it was freaking me out that you couldn't say you want to be with me as well... I guess it really got to me."
It was clear that Roman was conflicted, consumed by a storm of thoughts. His green eyes softened, his brows drawing together in a look of melancholic sorrow as he let out a sigh. "I hear you, but it's just... Those girls went after you because you were with me. I know you've had a tough time, and I didn't want to make it any worse for you by making us official... By making my feelings official," His voice trembled, revealing the cracks in his tough exterior-- it was as though the weight of his own fears had finally become too much to bear.
Another wave of guilt washed over me, knowing I had driven him to this point with my schemes. "Why would that make it worse?" I dared to take another step down the stairs, letting go of the banister. "Wouldn't it be a good thing? Don't you think it would've made me feel better?"
Roman's eyes fixated on the laces of his wet shoes, and I watched him change his weight from one foot to the other. It was obvious that he was nervous, especially as he cleared his throat. "I don't think I'd be a good boyfriend," he mumbled. "I shut down. I retaliate when I'm angry. And I don't know whether Letha would ever forgive you if we got into a relationship, and I know that would crush you."
Despite the reminder of Letha, I had to bite down on my bottom lip to suppress my growing smile-- it warmed my heart to hear how he had thought this through down to every last detail. 
Roman was rambling at this point; "I was just so shocked when you went to Daniel, I thought I was going to faint. The way you smiled at him, the way you touched him... I couldn't even look at you these past few days, and then I couldn't stand the silence either, hence that show in the hallway... I just didn't expect you to cry. I fucking lost it,"
I reached the end of the stairs by the time he was done, now close enough to see that his drenched clothes were leaving small puddles of rain along the hardwood floor. "Roman--"
"--And I just don't want to hurt you, y'know?" He finally looked up to meet my gaze, an unfamiliar emotion swimming in his green eyes. There was a certain desperation about him as his words came out like a stream in a never-ending river; "Because even though we're fighting, you're still in my sweater. And even though you're fucking infuriating, I still want to hold you. No matter what people think, you're good. You're sweet, you're kind, you... There is a sanctity about you in my mind. I really don't want to hurt you, but it's fucking inevitable with me! That's just who I am!"
I was batting away tears at this point; "Rome, please, that's not!--"
"--Of course I like you!" Roman's eyes glossed over, letting his emotions shine through his tough exterior at the sound of his new nickname. "If anything, I adore you half to death, and you doubting that makes me feel like I've failed! I've failed to keep you happy, I've failed to make you feel seen, and I'm just-- I'm a mess!"
Attempting to pat away my tears with the sleeve of Roman's sweater, I sniffled as I realized I was unsuccessful, my tears now spilling down my cheeks. Suddenly, many parts of him made sense to me; after finally letting me hear his true, inner thoughts, I had never seen him more clearly than now. 
Roman sniffled as well, head hanging low in shame. "Why would you want a mess?" he echoed, his voice breaking. "I don't want to hurt you. I really, really don't."
Enough-- It was breaking my heart to hear him so broken. I finally dared to step towards him, slowly reaching for his soaked jacket. Roman's eyes widened as he watched me hang it up in the hallway; "What are you?--"
"Stay the night," I placed myself in front of him, having to get up on my tippytoes to brush his wet hair away from his forehead. "My parents probably won't mind if I ask nicely."
Roman's green eyes rounded out with every soft touch against his skin, and he placed his hands over mine as I cupped his face; it dawned on me that I hadn't felt so calm in a while. "I want to be yours, Rome. In every sense of the word," My thumbs stroked over his cheeks, watching his heavy lids fall over his eyes as he keened against my touch, succumbing to the comfort. "So what if you're a mess? You think I'm not, with the way I've been running around you for months like a dog?"
It warmed my heart to hear him laugh, even if it was for a few seconds-- I knew my eyes weren't deceiving me when I spotted a tear or two heavying down his long lashes, making their way out of hiding. 
I had to bat away my own, my voice barely baring through the sentence; "You're much kinder than you think you are, much more gentle... If only I could make you see it yourself," Getting up to his level was impossible, but I was able to tilt his head down enough for me to place a soft kiss between his brows. "I want us to be together. I want us to at least have each other,"
Roman's breath hitched, letting his hands travel down to rest at my waist as he opened his eyes. revealing an ocean of tears about to spill down his rosy cheeks. "We're going to crash and burn,"
"... Let us, then,"
It was as though time stood still in the moments I waited for signs of a yes. My thumbs stroked over his temples, realizing our chests were rising and falling at the same time, trapping us in one breath, one body. For a second, it felt as though Roman and I melted into each other, the green of his eyes engulfing me with a look that told me everything I needed to know. 
Roman's breath was hot and heavy as he searched for the right words. I was sure he'd said enough dumb things for a lifetime to know he needed to choose wisely for once. But hence, his lips curled up into the sweetest smile known to man as he spoke against mine--
"Let us," he breathed. "Let's burn together, then."
(a/n: if you've come this far, thank u so much omg!! here's PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9 if you want to check them out!<33 )
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sanguineterrain · 9 days ago
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Ahhhh yes I'm so excited that you're writing spencer! Could I request something with a reader who's also considered "weird" by people (aka neurodivergent) and it gets them down but spencer doesn't think they're weird obviously and maybe they bond over that? I hope this makes sense 🩷 love ur fics!!
hope this is okay :) spencer reid x gn!reader. rude cop alert, reader feels down about not picking up on invisible social expectations/cues, Spencer comforts them. ty for requesting!
****
New crime scenes make you lock in and hone your attention. You've always done that. Ever since you started at the BAU, that's meant that you break some invisible rule more often than not.
You approach the cop who called in the case from behind. "When did you find the—
He flinches, dropping his clipboard. Immediately, he rounds on you, annoyance palpable.
"Jesus, knock much?" he asks, brow low with frustration. "Sneaking up on people in this line of work is a bad habit."
"I'm sorry," you say, not quite sure what you're apologizing for. "When did you—"
"And who are you, exactly?" he interrupts, looking you over. "Selling cookies?" He laughs at his joke.
You push through, showing your badge and saying your name. The cop snorts.
"FBI, huh? Wouldn't have guessed. You don't act like it. You know you're supposed to sign in, right?"
"Yes, I know. I've been here for ten minutes," you say. You can't pinpoint exactly what you sense, but you recognize the tone someone gets when they're making fun of you.
"Ten minutes?" The cop looks past you. "I didn't see you."
"I signed in at 8:14."
You've learned that being precise is very important because it makes people more likely to believe you. Sometimes your precision puts people off, but you have to show them that you pay attention, lest they have any doubts.
"Uh-huh. Look, is your supervisor here? Someone in charge? I need to give this report to someone."
"You can give it to me. I was assigned to this case," you say.
He snorts. "Right. First time sniffing around a murder case, rookie?"
You blink, confused. "No. This is my thirty-third case."
He's about to respond when Derek interrupts. He flashes his badge, says his name, and the cop clearly respects him, straightening up.
"What have we got here?" Derek asks, and the cop launches into the explanation you've been wanting since you started the conversation.
You get that prickling sensation on your neck, that feeling of humiliation when you've missed some cue. Your first thought is that maybe the cop doesn't respect younger agents, but it's more than that. It's always more.
It's always something you've done.
You slink away, and Derek doesn't even glance at you, which is fine. He's busy. You won't take it personally.
You drift over to Hotch and Spencer instead. Hotch is talking to a witness who heard the gunshots. Spencer is supplementing his questions with information about how bullets splinter different types of wood. He looks at you as you approach and that instantly makes you feel better. Spencer never ignores you.
"Thank you very much," Hotch finally says, touching the witness on her arm briefly. "We'll call you if we have more questions. Someone will drive you home. If you'll follow me out."
She follows Hotch and then it's you and Spencer.
"What do you think?" you ask.
He shrugs. "Too early to tell. The witness said she heard sounds after the shots that she didn't recognize. What did the officer say?"
You shrug. "I don't know. Derek's taking his statement."
"I thought you were," Spencer says in confusion.
"I tried to, but he wouldn't talk to me. He said I don't act like an FBI agent. Called me a rookie."
It's part of the job, these kinds of interactions. Not every government worker is the nicest.
"I don't understand what's wrong with me," you say before Spencer can say anything. It's too honest for a crime scene. Anyone else would be annoyed by your whining.
Spencer shakes his head. "Nothing's wrong with you."
"I feel like there is," you say quietly.
Spencer's the only one who understands. He's been called every name under the sun. He's so smart, and you're always in awe at how smart he is, but, according to Hotch, some people get intimidated rather than awed and say mean things as a result.
You're not a genius like Spencer, though. You're just an agent. You're fine at your job, but sometimes you don't even get the chance to demonstrate that. You have no idea what makes you fumble simple interactions like taking a statement.
"So he made it seem like you're inexperienced," Spencer says.
You nod. "I don't know why. I went to him, about to ask a question, but I guess I startled him. He snapped at me to not sneak up on people. Then I apologized. People like when you apologize, right?"
Spencer shrugs thoughtfully. "Sometimes. Apparently, it's a very fine line between when you should and when you shouldn't. Did you introduce yourself?"
You frown. "Later, I did."
He hums. "Apparently, people don't respect our authority unless we're flashing it obnoxiously. That's what Penelope told me. Take a page out of Derek's book."
You both look at Derek, who's got his hands on his hips, posturing like he's in a procedural drama. Spencer shares in your laughter. It's like drinking the sweetest, richest cup of hot chocolate when Spencer looks at you like that.
"Do you do that?" you ask, smiling.
"Ah, apparently, I haven't quite nailed it. I'm the least approachable agent on the team, according to a DEA agent."
Your face falls. "I think you're approachable."
Spencer lifts his hands as if to say, what can you do? Maybe you should be the same. It's just so hard.
"I can't do anything right," you blurt, sobering up. "There's so many rules, Spencer. I just want to solve cases. Isn't that why we're here? That's why I went to the cop in the first place."
You feel babyish for complaining. You know what someone else would say: suck it up. But this job sometimes feels like you're on the field playing baseball, and everybody else is playing chess. No one else seems to struggle with the invisible rules of being an agent. No one except...
"Yeah, but to that officer, it's also an assertion of power," Spencer says. "He's the kind of person who only responds to perceived authority. He didn't perceive authority from you, even though you have it, because you wouldn't be here if you didn't. So, he thinks you should've cowed to him and flattered him with inane niceties to get the information that you deserve to know to begin with."
You blink. "Really? All that?"
Spencer nods. "I've known lots of people like him. Classic law enforcement personality. For the record, I think it's stupid. You're smart, and you're good at your job. You shouldn't have to make yourself smaller to get people to do what's expected of them."
"I wish I could do something quiet," you say morosely. "Do autopsies or something. Stay out of the way."
Being quiet is easier. You work in a place where some talking is necessary, but it's also not strange to think quietly for periods of time. And people can't get mad at you when you're quiet.
But then, you really love the BAU. You'd hate to be transferred. You'd hate to be away from Spencer Reid.
"I don't want you to be quiet. You're good at what you do here," he says. "Don't let an insecure person make you doubt yourself. Also, you're not inexperienced: you've solved thirty-three cases."
You grin. There's nothing quite like being seen.
"Tell me more about bullets and different wood types," you say.
Spencer's face lights up, and you suddenly feel more sure that this is exactly where you're meant to be.
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wasawattpadkid · 2 years ago
Text
Housewife
Part - 1
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19
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"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"
"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.
Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.
With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'
The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.
The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"
A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."
"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.
"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.
"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."
You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."
"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.
"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"
Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"
He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.
"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"
Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.
"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."
"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."
"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."
"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.
You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.
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Part 2
A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞
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Note
Hello! May I request a steamy # 8 With Carmy? (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
Sweet Dreams.
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8. "I had a dream about you."
Synopsis - You can't look Carmy in the eye this morning. He's determined to figure out why.
Pairing - Roommate!Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader
Warnings - smut. cursing. carmen is a menace.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 1k
Author's Note - the people love carmy!! and I totally understand why. another roommate fic, because everyone adores them - me included!! this takes place in the same universe as Finders, Keepers and Pity Party, but you can decide whether this happens before or after those. your choice!! <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.
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"The fuck is your problem?"
Carmy has you cornered, backed up against the kitchen counter. You've been avoiding him all morning, and he's finally had enough.
"I... there's... what?" you squeak, taken aback.
He's usually so gentle with you, so careful. You'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying the sudden dominance he's displaying.
"I said," he begins, leaning down so he's nose to nose with you, "what is your problem? The fuck is going on with you?"
When you exhale shakily, he takes a more gentle approach.
"Honey... Did I do something wrong? Have I upset you? You haven't been able to look at me all morning. You're freaking me out."
"No, no!" you rush out. "You haven't done anything wrong. It's nothing. Don't worry about it."
"I'm gonna worry, until you explain yourself."
You know he means well, that his concern is coming from a place of love. The problem is, the truth is mortifying. Ridiculously embarrassing. You and Carmy have a good thing going, as roommates, and you don't want to ruin that.
"It's nothing, Carm."
"Look me in the eyes and tell me that."
You flick your eyes up to meet his piercing blue ones, and you hesitate. You've never been in the habit of lying to each other. In fact, you're not sure you're physically capable of it. Those big ocean eyes can see right through you.
"Fine. But you have to promise not to laugh."
"I promise."
You take a breath, and confess as quickly as you can.
"Ihadadreamaboutyou."
The corners of his lips quirk, tilting his head in confusion.
"Say that again. Didn't quite catch it."
You roll your eyes, and commit. You might aswell, at this point.
"I had a dream about you."
He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, deliberating what to say.
"What kind of dream?"
Fuck. You were hoping he wouldn't want you to elaborate.
"A good one."
"A good one, huh? Must have been, if you can't even look me in the eye this morning."
You roll your eyes and shove him in the chest lightly.
"I knew you'd be a dick if I told you. Hence why I didn't."
"No, you didn't tell me because you're embarrassed."
He steps closer to you, backing you up against the counter again. He leans in so he's forehead to forehead with you, lips brushing yours everytime he speaks.
"Where does your filthy little mind go when you fall asleep, hmm? Was I at least good, in this dream of yours? Live up to your expectations?"
"You were fine," you mumble.
"Fine? Honey, I'm the best chef in this city. I don't do fine."
"You woke me up with all the noise you were making in the kitchen before I could get to the good part."
"Oh, I left you hanging? Shit, baby. Well we can't have that."
In one fluid motion, Carmy picks you up and sits you on the counter, moving to stand between your legs. You wrap them around his hips instinctively, arms flying up around his neck.
"You gonna let me finish what I started?"
You stare into his eyes for a moment, trying to find any semblance of humour or amusement. All you find is adoration, compassion, and lust.
"You think you can?" you whisper teasingly, knowing exactly which buttons to push.
"Honey, when are you going to learn that I am the best at everything I do?"
Carmy closes the gap between you, smashing his lips to yours. It's all teeth and tongue and nipping and biting, no tenderness to be found. He slips his hand under your sleep shirt, running a finger up the middle of your underwear.
"Fuck," he groans. "Real good dream, huh?"
You nod and buck your hips into his touch, desperate to feel him.
"Right now, I'm gonna take the edge off, okay? And then, I'm gonna spread you out, and make you tell me every single little thing that happened in your dream, so you can experience it properly."
You nod frantically in response, hands clawing at his clothed shoulders. Carmy pulls your underwear down your legs and pushes them apart, wasting no time. He runs two fingers up and down, revelling in the wet warmth.
"Please," you whisper. "Please, Carmy."
He connects his lips to yours as he slides his fingers into you, muffling your sounds against his mouth. As much as you hate to admit it, he's right. He knows what he's doing, and he's good at it.
You've been so worked up all morning that it doesn't take Carmy long to figure out what you like. In no time, he's thrusting and curling his fingers, pressing his thumb onto your clit and making you whine. He's got his other arm wrapped around your middle, keeping you pressed close to him.
"You're close, honey. Can feel you. Come on, this is what you wanted, isn't it? I've got you."
You press your lips to his, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth right as you fall over the edge. Carmy trails kisses down your neck, under your ear, onto your temple, holding you tightly as you find your release. Your toes curl, back arching off the counter as you drop your head onto his chest to catch your breath.
After a couple of minutes, you pull away to look at him, smiling when you find him grinning at you.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "I don't tell you enough."
"So are you," you whisper, careful not to break the moment. "You're beautiful, Carm."
He ducks down and kisses you again, sweeter this time.
"Now," he mutters against your lips. "Start from the beginning, in this dream of yours."
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eye-f0r-an-eye · 8 months ago
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vessel's pre-venue jitters [nsfw - gn!reader]
-had to pause writing my lewis fic cause i listen to sleep token while i write and had a wicked idea pop into my head. now i can't stop thinking about vessel having mad anxiety before a show and the reader, who's also in the band, helping him calm down-
(i did not plan this out, i wrote it all on the spot, i just needed to get this out of my brain - i'm still prioritising my lewis fic)
word count: 887
cw: nsfw, swearing, sub!vessel, dom!reader, oral sex (m!recieving), reader's anatomy is not mentioned, no use of y/n, first fic posted! - author doesn't know what else to put here????
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god i want him to mount me like thatfjsgtrwdsgvfyuiuh
you were a part of the band and served as a second guitarist next to iv, and you were always quite close to vessel - in ways that the others would always tease you about. although, you kept assuring them that there was nothing between you both, even when you used little petnames with each other.
you were searching for vessel right before a show to seek validation for a quirky idea you had about a little something you could do on stage. you never made rash decisions on the spot for fear you'd mess up the performance, very unlike the others.
you find vessel, still in one of the dressing rooms behind stage rather than getting ready to go out and perform.
you then notice that he's facing away from and has got his head against the wall, muttering small things to himself, and shaking slightly.
you approach to ask him what's wrong, to which he jumps a little, clearly not expecting you of all people to find him here.
"just... gimme a minute... get out there, i'll follow later..."
you're not having it. you make him sit down and notice the light sheen of sweat on his neck, which is already testing the integrity of the black body paint coating his skin. and he hasn't even done all his little dancey dances yet!
you ask him again what's up with him, kneeling down in front of him to appear less intimidating. he simply sighs. his shaky hands reach for yours, searching for that anchor to ground himself.
"just a bit nervous, love..." he mumbled as his hands interlocked with yours. "dunno why..."
you do your best to comfort him but none of your words seem to work, he always has a negative thought step in and frustratingly deflect your consolation with it's iron shield of self-deprecation.
as the time ticks quickly and you've now likely just less than 10 minutes before you have to go out on stage, and you definitely can't let him go out there like this. you need to release his tension somehow.
it's in this moment when you abandon your value of not making rash, on-the-spot decisions.
you slip your hands out from his, roll your mask up just above your nose, and begin make quick work of his belt, which ultimately made him panic a bit more.
"shit- w-what are you doing?!" he tried to stop you, but you simply swatted his hands away and began to shimmy his pants down his thighs.
you shushed him, telling him to just lay back and focus on the sensations. you assured him that you'd ease his nerves.
was it his fault that he trusted you?
he definitely goes commando under the costume, fucking fight me, i will die on this hill. he's also like 7-8 inches, yet you still believe you can take him all when you watch the length of it roll out like a red carpet.
you feasted on both his fat cock and the little moans you illicit out of him with stripe you lick up his long shaft, enticed as you witness him go from soft to rock hard after mere moments of you touching him.
your hand rested on his thigh while your other was tenderly fondling his balls as you suckled on his swollen, leaky tip. it was a struggle for him to keep quiet, who knows who could be lurking outside the unlocked door of the dressing room.
he could probably pass it off as him practicing his vocals should anyone have heard him.
his hand came up to nest on top of your head, gripping at the fabric of your mask as you slowly begin to take an inch of him into your mouth.
he struggles not to buck up and fuck the ever-living shit out of your throat.
you make quick work of him, taking as much of him in as you can, wasting no time in sucking him off. he softly whimpers out your name.
he finishes quickly with a loud stifled moan, you made it hard for him not to when you're bobbing up and down on his length like that, your tongue flattened, and your cheeks hollowed to optimise his pleasure.
he shoots his fat load deep down your throat, you swallow it all gratefully. your mouth pops off his cock, which is beginning to soften as he pants. he's certainly a lot calmer now.
however, he doesn't know if he could look at you the same while performing without getting hard again.
you may have eased his nerves but what have you done to his mind?
he tucks himself back into his pants, you pull your mask back down over the bottom half of your face, and you both leave the dressing room without uttering any words to each other.
vessel has a bit of a haze clouding his head while you regroup with the rest of the band, who are definitely smirking at you both for being gone until last second.
"you two snogging back there, or what?" iii teased you, making ii and iv giggle.
vessel was a little embarrassed, but he ignored it, finding comfort in the fact that they didn't exactly know what it was that you two were doing.
you simply told them to get fucked as you all began to flood onto stage.
hey, hoped you enjoyed this! i haven't read it over, i wrote it all on the spot and am now posting it. please let me know if you have any icks or recommendations on how to make this better!
thank you for reading!
-leo :3
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ziggyzolch · 8 months ago
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Queen Bee-atch Ⅰ (Regina George x Reader)
Summary: You, a self-proclaimed loser, are going into Junior year with one goal in mind: Avoid Regina George. Nobody notices you, so it shouldn't be too hard…right?
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Light seeps through the blinds and birds start to make themselves known with their melodic chirps. Aggressive rustling can be heard from outside your door as you throw a mini tantrum on your, now ruffled up, sheets. Sleepless nights weren't new to you, but they don't get any less frustrating. You stare at the ceiling for a good 30 seconds before finally pushing yourself off your bed. Walking to turn off the air conditioning, you trip over god-knows what and fall flat on your face. The first day of junior year and you're already contemplating ending it all, on the floor of your dump of a bedroom, laying next to a-
"My mascara!", you exclaimed as you sat up. You lost that thing ages ago. You get up, taking the mascara with you and make your way into the bathroom. Becoming a junior wasn't anything you cared for. After sophomore year, the illusion of high school you created in your head had melted away, leaving behind a hollow teenage girl that just wanted to get it over and done with.
Putting away your mascara, you catch a glimpse of yourself in your mirror. A bed-head ridden girl with deep eye bags, which only seem to become more obvious with each passing day, stares back at you. "God, I look horrific," you thought out loud. A habit, in hindsight, you needed to rid yourself of. Going through your morning routine, you think about the coming school year. 11th grade! Will this be the year you reinvent yourself? You could completely change yourself; The way you walk, talk, act, and dress!
...
Who are you kidding.
After successfully poking your eye with your eyeliner three times, you're done. You peak your head out your bathroom door, glancing at the cat-themed clock you've had since you were a baby. It's 8 am. Classes start at 8:15. Curses fall out of your mouth. Did time warp halfway through your routine or something? Running out of the bathroom you quickly change into your clothes, a worn out band T-shirt and black cargos. You can hear your mother cursing at you from downstairs as you make your way out your room. "You're going to be late on your first day, seriously?" Your mom deadpans as you reach the bottom of the stairs. "Whatever, mom, they don't even care."
Walking to school instead of letting your mother drive you was probably not the best idea, but you're too far from the house to care right now. You turn the final corner and arrive at your final location, North Shore High School. Approaching the doors, you can already make out two students face-mashing each other through the window.
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You've been a student at North Shore since freshman year, but anyone could mistake you for a new student, if they even noticed you that is. You pride yourself in being able to blend in with the crowd. This school was filled with losers, so you fit right in. They had already been assigned, so you made your way through the various cliques grouped up in the hallways and to your locker. As much as you hated this place, it's what you're used to. You'd have a hard time adjusting to a new high school, at least at this one you knew who to avoid. You don't even think about it anymore since you don't run into them much- nevermind. "Watch it, freak!"
Great, of anyone you could've bumped into, it's the queen bitch, Regina George. "Whatever." you mumbled and began to walk away when you were pulled back by your bag and shoved back into the lockers...hard. "This is the part where you apologize, Gerard Way." she spits at you while holding the straps of your backpack. A bit of black eyeliner and suddenly you're emo at this school. She was a couple inches taller than you, making it all the more embarrassing, looking up at her. Wriggling around proves unsuccessful. Is there a gym-bro buried beneath her layers of pink and pretty or something? Getting out of her grip doesn't seem like a possibility, so you begrudgingly mumble out a "Sorry..."
She stares at you for a few seconds too long.
"Uhm...can I go now?" You ask. "Yeah uh, sure, whatever." She finally lets you go and storms away towards her group of all-mighty "biatches", or "Plastics" as some (mainly Damien and Janis) call them.
So much for not being noticed.
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A/N: this is my first time writing, so any constructive criticism would be great! forgive any awkward wording or corny-ness. There are more chapters up on my wattpad and ao3, same username for both. @ziggyzolch
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