#all of the members seem really strong
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Arceus gave her depression & dependency issues because if they hadn't she'd have bested them in hand to hand combat at age 15.
#⌠crack âŚ#((I know this might seem op but Evelyn & ALL the Chatelaines are strong REALLY strong#I mean come on you can only fight them AFTER you've beaten the gym leaders elite four members & champion#& even then you have to go through multiple battles before finally facing them#These girls are not weak#Evelyn could be the strongest of them all if she just had a little faith in herself for one god damn second#Her friendship with her pokemon is as high as it can possibly go#Physically she's the 2nd strongest sister which is nothing to sneeze at#Her will to keep moving forward no matter how dark things are keeps her SISTERS moving forward too#She's the locomotion for her sisters the light pulling them through the tunnel#Even if she thinks she's always dragging them down or that she's useless without them#She doesn't realize how much she means to them how much she holds them up))
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There are a lot of fics about the Justice League finding out about Batman's children via a series of circumstances leading to Nightwing joining the League (usually against Batman's will)
and I LOVE this trope, don't get me wrong, but I'd like to imagine a situation where it doesn't happen like that. I want a situation where Nightwing joins the League, but he and Batman play it off well enough that the JL doesn't put them together. They notice that they work well together, sure, and Batman seems to trust Nightwing easier than the other new members, but no one questions it because Nightwing is good.
And the JL reaches a point where it's been months or even years and they still don't know.
Until Nightwing gets hurt. They've seen him hurt before, but he gets hurt. Bleeding out, affected by fear toxin, whatever, the point is, he's in bad shape. And Nightwing - strong, crooked grin, happy facade - screams. He screams for his dad - a word that he never uses, but that doesn't matter now, because he's scared, and he's hurt, and he just wants to go home.
And nobody knows what to do. Every single League member very quickly realizes that they know nothing about this guy. Everyone wonders about Batman because he seems so mysterious, but Nightwing always seemed so open, and it's only in that moment that they realize they have no actual information on him.
But that only last for a split second, because, of course Batman reacts first. He runs to his side and starts to stabilize his injuries while assuring him in a voice that they've never heard before, a voice that is distinctly not his Batman growl, that he's right there and it's all going to be okay.
And Nightwing... well, he stops calling out for his father. And he doesn't stay in the watchtower infirmary after that. When they ask Batman where he took him, he just tells them home.
Nightwing's back a few months later, and that's when they start asking him if he's really Batman's kid, and he just smiles the same crooked grin and says, Of course. You didn't know?
#batman#comics#dc comics#dick grayson#bruce wayne#nightwing#justice league#justice league headcanon#batman headcanon#batfamily#a little angst
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i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there
summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!
The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didnât provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out.Â
It wasnât that you didnât want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, youâd been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that youâd never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence.Â
Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt.Â
Theyâd promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if thatâs what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to.Â
âThe fuck do you think youâre doing to her?â You sighed. It wasnât that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasnât a discussion that youâd had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission.Â
Logan looked furious, and whatâs worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesnât hurt matters. Youâd sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. Youâd hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now.Â
âWe arenât doing anything to her,â Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didnât need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. âSheâs chosen to accompany us on a mission.âÂ
âA small mission!â Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile.Â
You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Loganâs hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldnât do. âCan I have a moment with you,â you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutantâs eyes. âAlone?âÂ
Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasnât even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection.Â
Jean slipped one arm through Scottâs and took Ororoâs hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. âWe are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.â She began to hustle them out of the room. âCall if you need anything!âÂ
The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. âI wasnât going to-â
âYou donât think I know that?â You canât help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still arenât. But you canât deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. âIâm not⌠fuck.â He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. âIâm not mad.âÂ
Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldnât help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. âFine, Iâm not mad at you.âÂ
âYou know, you really canât be mad at anyone, they were just doing-â you were cut off when you fell Loganâs hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. âJust, take a look, yeah?âÂ
âAre you sure you want me to?â
âI trust you, bub.â You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings.Â
At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didnât dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud.Â
You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadnât changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasnât so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other.Â
You couldnât help it, a smile crept over your features. âYouâre proud of me?âÂ
He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. âIâm always proud of you.â He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didnât make prolonged silences and easier to bear. âI know itâs not my place to demand anything of you.âÂ
âYouâre my⌠friend.â You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didnât feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. âAnd I always want to hear my friendâs opinions. Whatâs bothering you so badly?âÂ
âI could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.â Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date âI, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.âÂ
He worries about you? Even more surprising, heâs listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you donât have a room full of your friends waiting on you. âI thought weâd covered this. I can take care of myself.âÂ
He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. âSweetheart, I know you can. But that doesnât stop me from watching out for you.âÂ
Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. âThe good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they wonât let anything happen.â You receive a single huff in return. Heâs not convinced. âYou know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. Iâll be fine.âÂ
He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. âGive me a second to get changed, and we will head out.âÂ
You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. âLogan, donât be ridiculous.â��
âWhatâs ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.âÂ
âAs we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.â
âWell then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.â You huffed, following him next door.Â
You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. âI know youâre worried and I know that this is you trying to help.â Logan had his Iâm about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. âThis is important to me. You canât be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.â The look was back. âWhich is still an important contribution.â You added, which seemed to appease him. âBut, I donât want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.âÂ
âAll this?â A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice.Â
âOh my god shut up!â He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side.Â
âIf you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scottâs dead.âÂ
You couldnât help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet.Â
âWeâll be back in a bit.â You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasnât too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. âLogan,â you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. âIâm too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, itâs going to be fine.âÂ
He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldnât entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. âWeâll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?âÂ
He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scottâs eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. âDonât even start.â You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit.Â
as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!
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#Logan howlett x reader#Logan howlett#wolverine#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolvering#marvel x reader#marvel fic#Logan howlett imagine#Logan howlett fic#wolverine imagine#wolverine fic#Hugh jackman x reader#x men x reader#x men fanfic#x men fic#marvel imagine#my writing#x men#x men comics#x men movies#Hugh jackman#empath!reader
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Yandere Boarding school thoughts... (Gender Neutral)
18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, drug usage, horny posting.
(AN: I have rizz-en from my grave to be horny once more. All of these guys are avaliable for requests, but will be listed under the materlist simply as Yan!Boarding School.)
Background: Thinking about a Headmasters child!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Blackmoore Academy being an all male school, this opens up the availability for reader to be attending.
Student scenarios and profiles:
â Harrison Spence, star member of the swim steam, basketball player, and golden boy. Despite jock stereotypes, he's respectful and mature. He always looks out for others, and this lends to why your father suggests rooming with him. Plus... if anything were to happen, your father wouldn't hate to have him as a son in law. He's SOOO friendly when he meets you. Those big strong arms are perfectly suited to lug your bags upstairs to his room. Want help putting stuff away, sure! For a Fem!Reader, he's not suprised how awkward he is when he's unzipping your suitcase, only to be met with some thin lacy garments. He just coughs and backs off. For a Masc!Reader, he wears boxers too! So why does he still feel so hot. He should open a window.
He'll make sure you fit in around campus, mostly steering you in the direction of the athletics department. He'd love to see you at some of his games, cheering him on. You seem so nice, he could really seem himself with you long term, the more he thinks about crushing on you. Besides, you already share a living space. He feels awful about how his body reacts anytime you're too close. You left a jacket behind that smells just like you? He tries not to think about the consequences of fisting his cock into it. Late night out at one of his games? Who cares if you share a dorm and your bed is literally six feet away, it's too far of a walk. Slide into his bed, he's a gentleman. At least until he wakes up the next morning, mind foggy as he instinctively moves his cock up over the waist band, putting a leaky tip against your ass as he resists the urge to press his head into your neck, opting for a pillow instead. He's so, so sorry, but he's gott a deal with it, and you just feel so good. He rationalizes it by saying he's not just some horned up guy, no. You're his roommate, HIS. And what would the Headmasters think! No, he wants a future with you, romance, not just a warm hole to rut...
"Hey, roomie! Listen, practice is running kinda late tonight, so I'm gonna grab food on the way back. Why don't you text me your order, I can bring it back. We can make a whole thing out of it, no need to pay me back! I'm thinking burgers?"
â Carter Matthews, student body president, scholar, and in every AP class possible. Even some dumb ones. He doesn't pay much mind to you, you ate very attractive but so is he. If he felt the need for a relationship, he could get whomever he wanted. But he hates... hates how you make the other students, even some of the faculty act. He can't help but follow you around, making sure you obey curfew, and don't get into any trouble. He likes to keep order around here, and it bothers him to have to ignore his student body presidential duties to make sure some delinquent isn't trying to slip you a spiked drink, or some jock has you under the bleachers trying to get your mouth wrapped around their tips.
Eventually, he decides you could be helpful instead of a hinderance. He's busy, may need a form of stress relief, and given babysitting you when Harrison isn't around is one of the main sources of that stress, why shouldn't you help him out. Besides, you look so cute flustered. Maybe it starts small, he tells you your uniform bottoms aren't regulation, and while he tugs them down to 'fix' them, his hands wander a bit too much, grazing the soft skin of your ass. During random room inspections, he may let his hatred of the sports program taking up all the funding by mentioning how obvious it is your roommate wants to stick it in you. Harrison can't stand him, not trusting the cold creepy gaze of the prefect. He'll force you to come to student council meetings, under the guise of assisting him with preparing for a faculty dinner to appease your father, only to get you under his desk while he writes, trying to guide you with one stern hand. He doesn't like to go too deep, not one to enjoy gagging or unnecessary sound that would distract him from working.
"Keep it down." He scolds, cold eyes peering down through blonde bangs. With a sigh, his free hand strokes your cheek. "Just suckle, alright? There'll be plenty of time after I'm done for you to make sweet noises around my cock..."
â Evan Reed, CAPTAIN of the swim team, and student assistant PE coach. He's used to play basketball alongside Harrison, but got kicked out for being too violent. Shoving, pushing, and going as far as knocking teeth out. He's a fucking animal. He's handsome, of not a bit of a loner. He isn't popular or unpopular, people tend to leave him alone because of that bad boy attitude and his temper, but he's always welcome to party with the jocks, welcomed into parties and known as a keg-stand king. And boy do you catch his eyes, giving that your always hanging off Harrison, or being trailed by Carter. He's more than happy to accompany you to the pool or help you out in gym class, but it's obvious what he wants. He'll get up behind you in the pool, still smelling of cigarettes as he asks mundane questions while trying to pull your swimsuit to the side and get his hands on that sweet spot between your thighs. Or maybe he'll sit on the edge of the pool, congratulate you on how good your doing, legs spread as he pulls you between them, hoping you'll end up accidentally eyeing his cock. If you are a Masc!Reader, then there's definitely some internalized homophbia. He'll make sure you know these are just normal friend activities, even when he's got you bent over in the boys locker room, ass up. He doesn't EVER plan to be the one on the bottom.
He's a player, chasing tail outside of the school, hitting on peers sisters and mom's alike. But now, he plans to keep you around, not because he necessarily feels like he wants a romantic relationship with you, but because he loooooves how pissed it makes Harrison. He never liked the goody two-shoes, and half suspects he's one of the people who pushed to get him kicked out of basketball. He likes to pick on people, but Harrison sees himself as a knight in shining armor. So it gives Evan a major power boner to make you grind up against him on the dancefloor at some preppy party, while Harrison just has to stand by and not crush his beer can. Evan knows harrison will never, ever do anything to ruin your good guy image of him. Ever.
He's pissed, punching a locker as he let's out a growl. 4-0, what the fuck is wrong with his team? How could they get fucked over so bad after weeks of missing parties for shitty practices. Luckily for him, he sees you on the sidelines, probably waiting for Harrison to walk you back to your dorm. He takes this opportunity to slide up behind you, hands on your hips as you can feel his angry erection rutting up against your ass. "You. Me. Locker room, five minutes, stall three. Be ready, underwear off and bent over or I'll take you in front of the guys who are still changing? Got it?" He departs with a harsh smack on your rear.
â Joseph Mick, he's in the newspaper, but it's not like he's the head or anything. He just love photography, and he's the only guy at school to have really mastered the dark room. He's known to be a little... odd. He's the youngest in you and Harrisons class, with a petite stature and thin, lanky arms. He's pale, almost gaunt, but that could be a lack of sunlight given that he spends all his time in the dark room or toiling over photo arrangement mock-ups in the journalism room. People avoid him, but he's okay with that. He's more than happy to just watch from a distance, and photography is his real branch to the world. People only talk to him or react positively if he's taking photos for the paper or the school newsletter. He actually meets you at one of Evan's swim meets, he gets good seats for being student press, and you get good seats for just being Evan's new favorite piece of ass. Your aren't even sure why you were invited, you don't even know anything about how one wins a swimming competition. But Joseph does. He's been to enough of these, and you notice, so you lean over and start asking him questions. He's shocked someone is talking to him, and not about getting a bigger feature in the yearbook. He's more than happy to help point stuff out to you, even if he had to repeat himself or stutter his way through something. He's feeling his heart flutter and his hands shake so much so he can barely hold the camera. Soon, he's watching as you walk away, wishing he could grab onto you and hang you up on his wall to admire like one of his pictures. It's only made worse when he sees a pair of masculine arms dragging you into the boys locker room.
He's a stalker, but it's not his fault! For one, he's got no idea how to approach anyone, much less someone he likes as much as you. And since he's got that reputation as a creep, if he approached you in public, Harrison would be polite but firm at shooing him away, Carter would give him a look that makes him feel like a worm beneath his well polished shoes, and Evan would beat him to the brink of death, but then pass him over to his friends. But God, if he didn't think it was worth it sometimes to just be close to you. He can only get as close to you as his high-focus lens will allow. He's got hundreds of photos of you, some taken by him, some by campus security cams, and he treats each one like the piece that's gonna get him into a top art school. He almost feels bad taking risquĂŠ shots of you. He's always following you, and he sees the ways those... those pigs are treating you. If he could stand up to them, he would. He sees (from the cameras he's slipped into your bag) the boner Harrison is always sporting when he in your presence, he even caught a glance of Harrisons late night rendezvous with your pillow. He sees the way Carter leads you through the hallways like his little secretary, lithe fingers trying to get up your uniform bottoms. Worst of all is the way he sees Evan humping you in the pool like a dog in heat, with you obviously unsure about how you feel about this. He knows he'd treat you right, if you'd ever consider being with something like him. Notice he almost feels too bad to take risquĂŠ pictures. He can't help it if a picture or two from one of his hidden cams has a bit of an upskirt, or gets a little to zoomed in on your pecs. But know that as he drums humps the table in the dark room, those copies are only so he can keep one in his room and one on his person! He'd never, ever share your sexual exploits, not like Evan would, always bragging about what he does with, or more likely to you.
Being on the newspaper staff, he's got a pretty good idea of everyone's schedules. He's more than happy to try and squeak out some words to you if he knows your many admirers are preoccupied. Trust him, he knows A LOT of good spots to share a meal privately or maybe... maybe you'd like to see the dark room? He's even got a pillow in there, a cushion he can place on a soft stool in case you ever came to visit. He hopes he could get a private photoshoot in, maybe with some silly pictures of you, or even some lewd pics, he's just happy to see his collection expand. He doesn't have a lot of money, but he's more than happy to buy you as much cheap vending machine food as you want as long as you'll spend time with him.
"Oh, shi- hey! I didn't realize you'd be stopping by here. I'm just, uh, editing some photos for the paper." You don't notice as he slyly moves a tray of pics taken outside a dorm window that looks suspiciously like yours. He thanks whoever is out there in this moment that the dark room has a sink as he keeps his right hand out of sight.
â Tyler Mertz and Percy 'Pez' Goldberg, two outsiders, and self proclaimed 'dudes with bad tudes'. Put into the same headcanon spot because they aren't ever seen apart. Tyler and Pez got in on scholarship, and immediately bonded because they know they don't fit in among the rich kids at Ridgemoore. Tyler got in on a scholarship to pursue culinary excellence, because if he can do one thing, it's cook. Pez was awarded a scholarship by lottery two years ago, and even though he's barely passing most of his classes and is the biggest delinquent in school, he can't be kicked out. The school made too much of a big deal about his acceptance to create some good press, the faculty are planning to just wait the problem out. Repeating a year hasn't helped with that, though. Still, they are attached at the hip. Both struggle in classes, Pez because of a shitty social life and even shittier focus, and Tyler because he's just a little slow. Still, Tyler excels in cooking, and the faculty know he's trying. There's a few ways you might come across the pair. Maybe you decided to take culinary, and got paired up with a sweet, dopey guy who turns out to be a fucking MasterChef, or maybe your a brat!reader, like I mentioned earlier, and you meet Pez in detention, where he's glad to know the schools newest troublemaker is a looker too. Most likely, you come across them when either Evan makes you tag along to buy some weed and half-priced shitty beer for a post-game party, or Carter tells you he'll personally see to it that your father tethers you to him if he sees you talking to those 'deliquents'. Either way, they're probably some of the nicest guys in the school, even though Pez likes to fight. He's not a bad guy, but the school can't seem to recognize half of the shit he does is in retaliation to someone fucking with him or his friend.
Pez will like any kind of reader, any. If you're bratty!reader, he loves having someone to run around and bust shit up with. But he'll promise to leave the statue of your father alone, if that's what you want. If you're an innocent!reader, he can't deny he'd love to ruin that good guy/girl image you have going on. Smoke a little weed, sneak out a little, let him show you a good time. He promises he won't cross any lines or do something that would really scare or upset you. He's not a bad guy, he just wants to show you there's so much stuff out there to do. Unlike Joseph, he doesn't let the fact that others think he's a freak keep him from hanging with you. He wants them to see that you like him. HIM. He thinks your adorable no matter who you are, and frankly, snuggling up on the Headmasters kid is just another act of defiance he's happy to flaunt. Eventually, he might even open up to you about his shitty home life, and the fact he's only called Pez cause' when he's high that candy is all he wants to eat.
Tyler is a huge softie. He doesn't let the thing people say about him get to him, mostly because he's a bit dense in the moment to know he's being made fun of, but also because he's okay with being alone. He's happy with who he is, a nice guy. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't love his best buddy, or mind adding you to there little group. It's just one more mouth to feed in his eyes. He'll walk you to all your classes, slinging his big arms around you and keeping you close to his side. Unlike Pez, he grew up with a pretty loving family, and they're what he misses most about being away at boarding school. Most of the money he makes selling weed with Pez goes back to his family, but they don't really know how he makes it. He comes to see you and Pez as his new little family.
With these two, there will be lots of late nights with bad movies and pizza made from scratch. Being on some rundown couch squished between to large bodies, at least one set of arms wrapped around your waist. I think they both are pretty open about telling each other about the crush they have on you, given that they are best buds. These idiots probably got super high one night, and Tyler let slip that he, quote, 'thinks he wants to put a baby in you', to which Pez replies he'd like to put something along those lines in you too. It wouldn't be hard for them to both come to terms with wanting to share you, they share everything else. They just hope you'd want both of them, Pez and Tyler can't stand the thought of making things awkward by you only wanting one of them, so they both subtly try to transition you into the roll of being their partner.
Pez would be fucking fuming when he starts realizing the things boys at school are doing to you. Whether he witnesses it himself, or you come to him and Tyler seeking comfort, he'll pound the shit out of anyone who tries to touch you like that. If you like someone else, Pez wouldn't wail on them to eliminate a rival like Evan would, but rather he hands it over to Tyler. Tyler would come up with some rumors, maybe a reason the guy isn't right for you, and why would Tyler lie? He doesn't feel great about lying, but thinking about the things guys at this school do to you, fills the sweet chefs stomach with a bitter bile.
They wouldn't outright pressure you into sex, but rather try and find ways to coerce you into requesting or initiating it. Pez has some weed laced with something, nothing too strong, but it'll make even a nun feel a little frisky. He'll lay back or rub your thigh, hoping the weed will relax you enough to come out and say what you want. Maybe an aphrodisiac or two gets slipped into a warm drink Tyler made for you. It gets you feeling all hot, but don't worry, you can stay in their room overnight and wear their clothes, so they can... make sure you're not sick or anything.
"Hey," you can feel a pair of arms wrap around you from your spot at the library table. You look up and see Pez, with Tyler now playfully laying his head on the table beside you. "Heard that shithead Evan's got an away game, so it looks like your freed up after all to spend a little time with your favorite guys." His lips are dangerously close to your ear, making you squirm. "Yeah, man, we've got a bunch of movies n' shit from the store, and I'll even make your favorite. Stay the night, it's not like we've got anywhere to be tommorow, and my beds so cold..." Tyler teases playfully, eyes wide and feigning sadness.
All these boys make it difficult to get any alone time at Ridgemoor, but the men certainly don't make it easier... (Taboo part two with the faculty coming soon, because I'm horny for Dilfs and old men with questionable dynamics with reader.)
#yandere#yandere oc#tw.yandere#yandere fanfiction#yandere boy#tw.bullying#tw.noncon#yandere smut#yandere x reader#x reader#yandere headcanons#tw.dubcon#gender neutral reader#yandere oc x reader#drabble#yandere boarding school#x reader smut#yandere boarding school x reader#tw.breeding
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In Front of Me (1)
cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me âË
âš pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader âš genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) âš wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)
âš summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.
âš tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)
⚠note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ⥠@junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ⥠everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !
âš masterlist, fic playlist.
âš smut tags: no smut in this part :p âš warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p
⚠what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ⥠i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!
prologue.Â
Despite your age, youâve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone.Â
In all the years youâve known Wonwoo, youâve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings youâve harboured for him since the eleventh grade.Â
He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldnât even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his ânext stepâ should be. The doting best friend that you are, youâd gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems.Â
âI just, I donât have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?â he asked you over the phone.Â
Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits.Â
Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit.Â
âItâs not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?â you ask him, and he pauses to think.Â
âI donât know, but I canât stay, that would make things worse,â he sighs. âItâs better to just stop this whole thing now.âÂ
âI agree, but are you sure?â you continue to ask him the same questions youâve been asking since you were sixteen.Â
âIâm sure,â he replies with a heavy sigh.Â
âOkay, then goodnight. Itâs almost one in the morning,â you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak.Â
âIâm not the bad guy, right?â he asks you for reassurance.Â
âNo, youâre just human Wonwoo. Thereâs nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,â you affirmed.Â
âAlright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,â he whispers listlessly.Â
âGood night, Wonwoo.âÂ
Your phone beeps indicating that heâs hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you?Â
act one, favorite crime.
chapter one.Â
âWait, what? You and Wonwoo arenât dating?â Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat.Â
The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghanâs living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway.Â
It feels like every time youâre with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo havenât thought about dating, or why you two havenât decided to take the chance and just be together.Â
âYou guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,â Wonwoo defends the two of you.Â
âYouâre telling me in all the years youâve known her, you havenât developed feelings for her once?â Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide.Â
Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond.Â
âNo, câmon, weâre just friends. Thatâs it, right?â Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up.Â
Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation.Â
âU-uh yeah, Wonwooâs right, weâre just friends,â you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once.Â
âSee? Now can you all just get off our backs?â he chastises.Â
The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwooâs friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. Heâs completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.
You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most peopleâs, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwooâs feelings, and you also respect that whenever heâs dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts.Â
He becomes more detached when heâs in a relationship, and youâre okay with that. His priorities change and youâre okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you canât force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that.Â
Youâve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals donât change just because you love him, but that doesnât mean it doesnât hurt any less to see the person youâre in love with, fall in love with someone else.Â
two.Â
âHey, you okay?â Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence.Â
âHuh? Yeah, Iâm alright,â you mutter, but you know you donât look that way.Â
Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when youâre not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite.Â
The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least thatâs what you like to think. But your heart canât seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife.Â
âWhatâs the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,â he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear.Â
You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spillânot like this, not in front of so many people.Â
âIt was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannieâs house,â you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend.Â
âWhat did he say?âÂ
âThat heâs never liked me before,â you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye.Â
Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesnât have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate.Â
âItâs alright,â he coos, pulling you into his strong arms.Â
It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your universityâs dining hall. But youâre thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldnât help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice.Â
âYou deserve more than this, I hope you know that,â he whispers in your ear.
three.Â
Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwooâs past relationships is the perfect example. Heâs not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?
You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you canât let go of. No matter how many times youâve tried.Â
A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you donât remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway.Â
âHey, sorry I didnât text,â Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch.Â
âItâs okay, whatâs up?â you move to sit beside him.Â
âI broke up with her,â He says, shrugging.Â
Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache.Â
âWell, how did it go?â you ask with a bit of apprehension.Â
Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. Heâs never been bothered to really break up with someone.Â
You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. Itâs pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that youâre a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another.Â
âShe was crying, but at least itâs over now,â Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table.Â
âOh.â You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins.Â
It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but youâre not sure how to react. Thereâs a part of you thatâs happy to know that heâs single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken.Â
Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information youâve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions.Â
âAre you still going to Seokminâs thing this weekend, though?â you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats.Â
He shrugs his shoulders, âIf I feel like it. Are you?âÂ
The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there.Â
âI mean, I donât have a ride soâŚâ you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen.Â
âIâll go since youâre going, that way you have a ride,â he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch.Â
He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. Youâre very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest.Â
Wonwooâs arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything.Â
âThank you for agreeing to go to Seokminâs so I have a ride,â you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesnât notice your flustered expression.Â
âThank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,â he whispers back, kissing the top of your head.Â
âOf course, what are best friends for?âÂ
four.Â
Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.
 Falling in love with Wonwoo wasnât gradual at all.Â
If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.
When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldnât fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didnât stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokĂŠmon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love.Â
You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea.Â
When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates mustâve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man youâre in love with gained attention from people who didnât even bat an eyelash at him last year.Â
It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didnât mean he was that much different from how he was last year.Â
Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time.Â
When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didnât invite you for dinner as often, you two didnât talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasnât worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice.Â
âI feel like I need to break up with Haein,â his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth.Â
Haein was Wonwooâs first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you werenât.
You couldnât bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?
Wonwooâs first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.
âOh. Why?â was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said.Â
ââDunno, I just donât like her anymore,â he admitted effortlessly.Â
You didnât know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically.Â
âWell, if thatâs what you think is right,â you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again.Â
Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didnât care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.
History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didnât want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings.Â
Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they werenât. Heâs never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones.Â
five.Â
By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didnât exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you.Â
Youâve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him. The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him.Â
Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that itâs better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic youâve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios.Â
âWhat if he likes you back?âÂ
âYou never know until you try.âÂ
âTake the risk or lose the chance.âÂ
What if.Â
Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesnât let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit.Â
The possibilities are endless, and youâd rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality.Â
A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. Thereâs excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen.Â
7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5.Â
There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldnât help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that itâs something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldnât be anything out of the ordinary.Â
Everyone had planned to meet at Seokminâs place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldnât be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends.Â
Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasnât a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokminâs was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza.Â
Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know heâs outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is.Â
The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if itâs just from afar.Â
âHi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,â your voice resounds into the night.Â
âIt's never a problem if itâs you,â he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car.Â
Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know youâll think about it for the rest of the night.Â
âAre you ready to go?â he asks, smiling at you.Â
The ride to Seokminâs house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough.Â
âŚ
 The clock on Seokminâs pale white wall is nearing midnight and you donât want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didnât catch. Sheâs Joshuaâs childhood friend and he only brought her along because sheâs visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didnât matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwooâs deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.
The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you werenât sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesnât realize how greatly he can impact your feelings.Â
Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokminâs apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesnât even know. He doesnât know what heâs doing to you, and thatâs what hurts the most.Â
âYou doing okay?â Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately.Â
âHuh? Oh. Yeah Iâm okay,â you chuckle, but thereâs nothing humorous about your laugh at all.Â
His eyes soften, he knows that youâre not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when youâre trying to save face. Thereâs a lump in your throat, and if you didnât have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably wouldâve gone to the bathroom to cry.Â
âYou wanna talk in my room?â he offers, and youâre grateful.Â
Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you.Â
Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside.Â
As you sit on Seokminâs bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why canât you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and heâd be the first person you search for.Â
Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? Itâs tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that youâll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesnât love you back.Â
âItâs okay, just let it out,â Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug.Â
Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel. Â
âI know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,â Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. âYouâre so hurt, and itâs taking a toll on you. Please, I canât bear to see you so sad.âÂ
His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though itâs not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself.Â
âI-Iâm sorry,â you hiccup, tears staining Seokminâs white shirt.Â
âWhy are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,â he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions.Â
âBecause, if I was normal, you wouldnât have to worry about me, about why Iâm always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,â you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist.Â
âHey, look at meââ he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. âYou are not a burden. We care, thatâs why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.âÂ
âThank you, Seokmin. Iâm so happy that I have someone like you in my life,â you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but heâs still somehow able to hug you even tighter.Â
Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. Heâs always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo.Â
âIâm so tired, Iâm tired of feeling like this,â you admit to him.Â
Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile.Â
âMaybe itâs time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,â he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you.Â
âI want to feel better,â you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest.Â
âI care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but thereâs a point where youâll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,â he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know heâs right. âIn the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in wonât do you any good.â He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said.Â
âThank you, Minnie, Iâm so thankful I have you,â you sniffled.Â
âAnd I you.âÂ
âŚ
Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night.Â
âOf course, itâs really no trouble at all,â Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them.Â
The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokminâs, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. Heâs not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoungâs way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened.Â
As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didnât mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ.Â
âSoon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,â Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead.Â
âBut you love it when I sing,â Soonyoung whines, and you canât help but laugh.Â
âI do, but our friend has had a long night,â Jihoon counters.Â
Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. âIf you want me to be quiet, I will.âÂ
âNo, itâs okay, Iâm actually enjoying it, thank you very much,â you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics.Â
Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind. Â
The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you.Â
Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didnât know where else to go or what else to do.
Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and youâre scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep.Â
1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok?Â
ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
chapter one.Â
Wonwooâs ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but heâs too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didnât even say goodbye. Itâs the first time you went home from Seokminâs place without him.Â
By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didnât want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning.Â
Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing.Â
He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two?Â
Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, itâs him thatâs doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether youâre going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he canât stand that feeling.Â
Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least thatâs what he forces himself to believe. That itâs not fair of you to ignore him when heâs worried about you, because heâs your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been.Â
Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps heâs conceited and selfish, but he doesnât care. Because in his mind, youâre his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesnât even consider it a possibility. You were busy, thatâs it. That has to be it.Â
âŚÂ
Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldnât stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him.Â
12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?
Nothing. Not even a thumbâs up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing thatâs so important that you couldnât even open his message let alone read them?Â
1:27 p.m. [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didnât give it to her though đ
Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He canât believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes itâll be the text that finally gets you to respond.Â
2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u shouldâve seen it! reminded me of u. [1 photo attachment]Â
Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of whatâs worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.
4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today?Â
The sight of you getting into Seokminâs car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed.Â
4:30 p.m. [wons <3]: saw u get into seokminâs car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw.Â
Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just canât stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back.Â
Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, heâs unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.Â
two, wonwooâs summer before senior year.Â
The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over.Â
Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that heâd be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadnât been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldnât help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him.Â
He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldnât be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.
Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldnât care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldnât do much but sit back and listen. Â
Much to his dismay, his parents hadnât even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldnât stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say.Â
There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldnât bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore.Â
âWonwoo! Youâre all grown up now, and I canât believe it,â Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, âYou know, youâre still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?âÂ
Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression.Â
âNo they do, I donât know maybe itâs my fast metabolism or something,â he refuted her claims. He couldnât wait to get out of her sight.Â
âYou know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,â she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance.Â
âYeah maybe,â he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not youâve texted him yet.Â
It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldnât be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed.Â
[4:15 p.m. kst] [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved] [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point iâve turned all my mirrors backwards] [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! đŤś]
He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parentsâ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit.Â
Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat.Â
Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all.Â
[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment] [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing] [you: u better not snitch đž] [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS] [you: ok thats enuffâŚtxt me when u land!]
Wonwoo really missed you.Â
âŚ
One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it.Â
He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break.Â
It was initially his brotherâs convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwooâs shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seonghoâs encouragement had finally paid off.Â
Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasnât so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasnât all that bad-looking, after all.Â
Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home.Â
âYou got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,â Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest.Â
His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym.Â
âOkay! Youâre done, that was good,â his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips.Â
âThanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,â he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle.Â
Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement.Â
âUh, donât look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,â Seongho tilted his head in the girlâs direction and Wonwoo couldnât be more confused.Â
âHuh? Are you sure it's me theyâre looking at and not you?âÂ
âIâm serious! You should go talk to her,â Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo.Â
âHyung!â Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses.Â
Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation heâd been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord.Â
âHi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?â she asked him, batting her eyelashes.Â
âUhm, I guess? Iâm only here for the summer though,â he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say?Â
âOh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.â Haeinâs smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwooâs.Â
Wonwooâs actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun.Â
âIâm Wonwoo.âÂ
âWonwoo, hmm, thatâs a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,â she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep.Â
Wonwooâs mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number.Â
They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer.Â
To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since heâs been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ahâs words werenât so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation.Â
By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon.Â
âŚ
The after-effects of Wonwooâs surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadnât worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldnât find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for.Â
Wonwoo wasnât entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on.Â
Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time.Â
âŚ
Quite like the seasons, Wonwooâs feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them.Â
Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested.Â
On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didnât Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didnât see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks.Â
âIt all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!â Wonwoo couldnât contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didnât seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out.Â
âI'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,â Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. âI just didnât get anything that was happening.âÂ
âWait, really?â He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didnât understand.Â
He didnât understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday.Â
You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together. It had become you and Wonwooâs thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend.Â
It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he shouldâve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do.Â
âHonestly, Iâm really tired, Iâm gonna go to bed now okay?â Haeinâs voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts.Â
âOh okay. Night.â He said before ending the call so quickly that Haeinâs âI love youâ was cut off mid-sentence.Â
Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didnât want to say those words if he didnât mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night. Â
Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didnât want to pretend any longer, it wouldâve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldnât help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on.Â
Wonwooâs relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldnât keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasnât sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer.Â
three, present time.
The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didnât know that.Â
âAre you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?â Mingyu lectures him.Â
The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwooâs mind couldnât help but wonder. He hasnât been acting like himself since the night of Seokminâs party.Â
âOh, right.â Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table.Â
Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasnât seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop.Â
âNot to be rude, but youâve been looking like shit lately. Whatâs wrong?â Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows.Â
Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didnât have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins heâs had with you and Seokmin on campus, heâs begun to sense that itâs some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that itâs completely unwarranted.Â
Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. Itâs uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he canât help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you.Â
Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, thereâs a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end.Â
âThanks for that, asshole, I just havenât been getting much sleep,â Wonwoo huffs.Â
âOkay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way youâve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?â Mingyu presses.Â
Itâs not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, thatâs what you were for. However, he canât talk about his problems about you, to you, so heâll have to settle for the next best thing. Â
âY/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokminâs,â Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice.Â
For the past two weeks, heâs been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest.Â
Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friendâs situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyuâs reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny.Â
âServes you right, youâre a dick to her, man.â Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare.Â
âWhat?â Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend?Â
âHow blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you canât see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?â Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression.Â
âI am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if Iâve ever said something to hurt her feelings,â Wonwoo defends himself.Â
Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he canât seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasnât a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you.Â
âYouâre a dumbass.â Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more.Â
âCould you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me whatâs going on?âÂ
Shutting his laptop, Mingyuâs posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it.Â
âShe cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. Itâs not about what youâve said to her, itâs your actions. Ever since we were in high school all youâve done is use her to solve your problems. I canât even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I donât know what happened at Seokminâs place for her to realize that, but you donât deserve her,â Mingyu confesses.Â
Soaking up each word that left Mingyuâs mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he canât seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you?Â
Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesnât want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth.Â
Itâs not fair. Itâs not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldnât tell him anything?Â
Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but thatâs romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because thatâs how it's supposed to be.Â
Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwooâs whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he canât anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but heâs pushed you so far to the brink that youâd rather ignore him than attempt to hash out whatâs been troubling you.
âI-I didnât know that's how you guys saw our friendship,â Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend whatâs been said to him.Â
âItâs not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I wouldâve cut you off a long time ago.âÂ
âWell, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this couldâve been said before she started ignoring me,â Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.
âIt was kinda obvious, man,â Mingyu shrugs.Â
âWas it, though? If I had known, I wouldâve at least tried to be better,â Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy.Â
âHow about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,â Mingyu suggests.Â
Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyuâs advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldnât even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he canât go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought.Â
four.Â
For the first time in Wonwooâs life, heâs unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time.Â
Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place.Â
Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldnât help himself. He canât help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. Heâs such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building?Â
After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwooâs attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.
That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye.Â
âShit!â Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you werenât able to recognize it in the dead of night. Â
Boring holes into the back of Seokminâs head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he shouldâve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin.Â
The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He canât help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokminâs visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind.Â
Heâs never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today.Â
Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he canât ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didnât go on any longer.Â
âŚ
There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times heâs tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind. Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away.Â
Thereâs a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that youâre still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldnât pick up.
Wonwoo wasnât the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways heâs never acted before.Â
The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake.Â
One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose?Â
Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him.Â
[12:52 a.m.]Â [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?]Â [not delivered]Â
The silence within the four walls of Wonwooâs bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list.Â
Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwooâs finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you donât pick up, then thatâs it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms.Â
âThe number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,â an automated voice affirmed his suspicions.Â
The notification is gut-wrenching, but he canât just sit here and pretend like itâs okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off?Â
five.Â
Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasnât been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but itâs almost two in the morning and heâs still continuing to weigh his options.Â
Itâs either youâll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or youâll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect.Â
Heâs already lost his mind. This shouldnât be the way you two break it off. It wonât be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation.Â
Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. Thereâs nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing.Â
âWhat the hell are you doing here?â Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison.Â
Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, âI think I should be asking you that. You clearly donât live here.âÂ
âMinnie? Is someone at the door?â your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summerâs day.Â
Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth.Â
Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard.Â
âYeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,â Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwooâs. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokminâs expression had said more than his words ever could have.Â
Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokminâs thick skin.Â
A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwooâs tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your âneighbourâ is looking for.Â
âOkay!â is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwooâs stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen.Â
âWhatever youâre doing, sheâs not gonna fall for it,â Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could.Â
Seokmin chuckles bitterly, âShe already has.âÂ
There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth.Â
Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such.Â
âYouâre fucking sick, you know that?â Wonwoo practically spits in his face.Â
âI could say the same thing for you,â Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, âI didnât have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.âÂ
âIâm not just going to let you get away with something like this. Sheâs my best friend.âÂ
âI think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,â Seokmin taunted.Â
He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didnât expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture.Â
Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, âI think itâs time for you to leave. She doesnât want to see you.â
The last few words that he heard come out of Seokminâs mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost.Â
âBy the way, donât text her anymore. Iâve made sure she wonât get any more notifications from you.âÂ
The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldnât just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly.Â
âŚ
Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didnât matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place.Â
After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.
With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokminâs words hold any truth behind them.
 Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldnât end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same.Â
If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you havenât let him speak.Â
As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on?Â
Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like itâll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away.Â
After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension wonât vanish and itâs starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing itâll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin.Â
âMinnie? Did you leave something agaiâ,â Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.
âWonwooâŚâ your voice falters, like you genuinely didnât expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door.Â
âDid you fuck him?â Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions.Â
His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesnât have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home.Â
âDid you fuck him? Yes or no?â Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you donât know who he's talking about. âCâmon, you know who Iâm talking about,â he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him.Â
How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps itâs undeserving to do so, but Wonwooâs frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying.Â
âThe past two weeks youâve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?â Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness.Â
He didnât plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression couldâve broken down every wall heâs built if only he hadnât let his anger proceed him.Â
Wonwoo shouldâve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down.Â
âSeokmin doesnât care about you, and Iâll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?â He canât stop talking.Â
âStop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?â You cut off his rant. âOut of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesnât matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesnât involve you.âÂ
âNo. Iâm just trying to help you. Seokmin isnât the person that you think he is,â Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how youâre twisting his words.Â
The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwooâs extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldnât stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense.Â
âThat is exactly what weâre not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years weâve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and Iâm tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didnât care enough to notice.Â
âI gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldnât even come up for air. And Iâm just sick of it. I know thereâs a part of you that cares about me too, but itâll never be equal. Iâll always love you more than you love me, and I donât want to feel this way anymore.âÂ
âWhat hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didnât even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about? He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And thatâs a lot more than I could ever say about you.âÂ
Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words.Â
âIâm sorry,â is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause.Â
âPlease. Itâs late, you should go home,â you sigh, but Wonwoo couldnât move an inch. He refused.Â
âIâm sorry,â he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him.Â
âWonwooâŚâ there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place.Â
âPlease. Iâm so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,â Wonwoo resorted to pleading.Â
A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.
The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too.Â
âItâs time for you to go. Iâm tired, Wonwoo.â A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek.Â
He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart.Â
Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He shouldâve known.
He shouldâve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.
end of act one.
âš a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.
#jeon wonwoo#seventeen smut#wonwoo smut#svthub#Hiraya-M#thediamondlifenetwork#seventeen fic#wonwoo x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen fanfic#svt fic#svt smut#svt fanfic#wonwoo#seventeen scenarios#seventeen angst#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo seventeen#svt imagines
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â within uncertainty
sunday reflects on his limited time thus far on the express, only to find himself distracted by a face he has unknowingly become fond of.
CONTAINS : 1.2k wc, gn!reader, astral express member!sunday, fluff
A/N : chat have we seen the lc and gameplay leaks� throwing up.
When Sunday first arrived on the Astral Express, a miniature gold and crimson ticket attached to his apparel, he wasnât sure what to expect.
A new start; that much he was sure of. But with these people who instilled a newfound hope and courage to face the future, there was no shadow of a doubt within his heart and soul that he would encounter the unexpected more times than he can keep track of.
Sure enough, the unexpected came in many ways.
For one, March 7thâs uncanny ability to look at the bright side of things appeared so natural to her, so easy and simple. In recent times, he has found himself thinking about situations in a more positive light, no doubt a side effect of having spent time with her bubbly self.
He discovered Dan Hengâs aloof demeanour barely concealed his great care and affection for the crewâ the Astral Express family. Even with what seems to be passive quips and dead-eyed stares, Sunday has begun to note the differentiations in his tone and body language, and all the subtleties he only shows with them.
He discovered the Trailblazer was every bit of a jokester as they are courageous, often finding himself staring blankly at some of their⌠seamlessly timed quips, to put it lightly. Even so, heâs oftentimes caught himself mid-admiration when they take charge in what they believe is right, wondering if he, too, could be like them in that aspect.
He found that Welt, while still retaining the righteous and strong spirit he displayed while in penacony, had a rather unprecedented charm. Sitting down for hours on end listening to the elder ramble passionately about animating, the arts, and endless theories about this universe wasnât something he had ever planned for, but his heart warmed all the same at the burst of energy.
He came to realise the Expressâ Navigator, Himeko, was certainly a⌠character. Brave, wise and humble were what he would use to describe her, even more so after her warmly welcoming him into the family. However, Sunday realised he could do without that⌠concoction she dubs a coffee.
He also never realised such a creature existed until he met Pom-Pom, much less one being a sentient conductor. Their nags are backed with overflowing affection for the members of the Express, often displayed through the meticulous care taken in the tailored meals and rooms and experience. There is so much love of the Astral Express, and Sunday wouldnât be surprised if he were told most of it came from the Conductor.
(Though he does recall being warned by Dan Heng in particular to not anger the Conductor, an experience he is both curious about but also content in not knowing what exactly would transpire.)
And then there is you.
Sunday only caught a glimpse of you during the final moments of the conflict, much like with Himeko, so he didnât have too much to go off of other than the fact you, just as it seemed to come with being a part of the Astral Express, were brave and fought for what you believed in.
(With you in particular, he found himself unable to forget your gaze â how it held a sparkling resolution and commanded his full attention, completely and utterly drawn in.)
Of course, thatâs not to say you donât embody those aspects now that heâs gotten to know you. Rather, you are so much more than what he could have ever imagined.
âWow⌠theyâre way softer than they look!â
âŚIn more ways than one.
Sunday doesnât really know how this situation came to be. He was merely idling around the Express in search of something to pass the time until you took note of his predicament, swooping in like the graceful saviour you are (self-proclaimed by you).
Somehow, in some way, that brought you both to his room.
Itâs times like these where Sunday wholeheartedly believes the most forward member of the Astral Express isnât that racoon-like Trailblazer, but rather you instead.
Seriously. How are you not embarrassed by this⌠this compromising position youâre both in?! He can practically feel the radius in which the heat from his face permeates!
âDo you, like, have a care routine for them or something?â you ask while gently thumbing individual feathers, because obviously this is only affecting him and him alone. âI refuse to believe your wings are like this naturally.â
He knows he gave you permission to touch them, but it doesnât change the fact his wings are still sensitive. Aeon knows what you would do with that information; well, assuming you havenât already picked up on his reactions towards your⌠ministrations.
âI do have a routine. I go to great lengths pruning and trimming my feathers. More than thatâŚâ he trails off, opting to ignore your mumbled comment of âWow⌠youâre just like a bird thenâŚâ. He coughs, averting his eyes from your intensely gentle gaze, raising a fist to cover his lips. âAre you this forward with everyone?â
You blink. Once, twice, thrice. Somehow, the action makes Sunday fluster even further.
A hum leaves you as your lips purse and your head tilts in thought. âWell, I wouldnât say everyone, exactly. Just those I consider to be very close to me. Oh,â you begin, as though realising something, âdoes it bother you? Iâm so sorry!â
Noâ waitâ why are you apologising?
âI didnât realise I was making you uncomfortable! Oh gosh, I did it againâŚ!â
You make a move to scramble away from him. Is it your frantic and unfocused eyes, or perhaps this uncharacteristic side of your usual confident and unabashed self which makes his heart lurch?
âIâm so, so sorry! Iâll keep my distance from now on andâ!â
He acts before he can think.
âNo!â
Thereâs a surge of panic which shoots into him. It makes itself known in the raw strain of his voice, in the shaky wide-eyed stare at the thought of you leaving, in the trembling grip he has your arm in.
Really, Sunday doesnât know what heâs panicking about. He just knows a part of himself would never forgive him for unintentionally pushing you away like this.
A gasp escapes him after a few tense seconds which felt much more like an eternity. With haste, Sunday tears his hand away from your arm. Despite that, he remains in close proximity to you, mustering the courage to look at you once more.
âI⌠I mean, no, youâre not making me uncomfortable.â Sunday prays you didnât hear the stammer in his words. And, if you did, then he hopes you donât bring it up. âIf I were feeling as such, I would have told you outright.â
The silence is absolutely suffocating. Even so, Sunday doesnât dare look away from your stunned expression, not even when heâs almost positive his face is about to melt off from the sheer heat radiating from him.
âOh.â You blink, expression falling into that of neutrality. A nod of understanding is your next action; understanding of what? Sunday has no clue â heâs not sure he even wants to know. âSo youâre that type, huh. I see now.â
Nevermind. Maybe he does.
ââŚWhat does that mean? Waitâ [Name], come back here! Explain what âthat typeâ means! Are you listening?!â
Suffice to say, Sunday never received a verbal response from you. Only your cheeky grin before you left and a plethora of butterflies fluttering amok within his stomach are all that remains.
Yeah. Sunday didnât know what to expect when joining the Astral Express; in fact, he still doesnât know what to expect. Despite being thrown into the unknown, he finds himself thinking this situation to not be so bad after all.
if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33
#sunday x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#sunday x you#honkai star rail x you#hsr x you#honkai star rail imagines#hsr imagines
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Once Batman has revealed his identity to the JL, and after some strong encouragement from Superman and Wonder Woman, Bruce decides to try to start being a bit more "personable" with the rest of league. They've been colleagues for a decade and he trusts them all, and according to Clark and Diana this means there's no need for his whole mysterious "shadow of the night" bit, so he invites the league to dinner at the manor.
It is raining heavily, and even though it's not that late, it's nearly pitch dark but for the frequent lightning strikes. The league arrives together at Wayne Manor and the wrought iron gates stretch upward before them, ending in spikes at the top with ivy overgrown across them. They stand there, uncomfortable, wet, a bit weirded out, wondering how they're supposed to get passed the gates.
"This is creepy, right?" Hal says. "It's not just me?"
A voice. "Hello." As the league turns to the sound, thunder claps loud enough to startle everyone as lightning strikes, illuminating a small child standing on the other side of the gates that was definitely not there a second ago. He stands motionless under an umbrella, seemingly unbothered by the rain, expression vaguely irritated, and his eyes seem to flash green in the light. "I have been instructed to escort you inside."
The child doesn't move in any way but the gates slowly swing open, the creaking sounds sound straight out of a horror movie. Once they are fully opened, the boy turns and starts walking down the path without a word.
The league, some members quite freaked out at this point, follow him after exchanging some looks. They round a bend in the path and the manor comes into view. It is a massive dark structure, rising from the ground. Another lightning strike illuminates pointed spires, jagged edges, and it's gloomy, gothic nature. The sound of bats shrieking can be heard in the distance over the rain.
The league finally arrives at the front door, cold, wet, and thoroughly discomfited. An old man, a butler, looking out of time, opens the door, the child disappears inside. The butler welcomes everyone inside graciously but with a distant politeness. Despite the appearance of the exterior, the inside is well lit with warm light and seems inviting, though ostentatious. The league is relieved.
Until another massive lightning strike and thunder clap cuts the power off and the room is pitch black.
"Oh, you're here," a deep voice says from somewhere up above. No sooner are the words out than another lightning strike illuminates a dark, hulking figure on the staircase that was also definitely not there a second ago. At least two people scream.
Bruce is wildly confused as to why his guests are screaming, he didn't think any of them were afraid of the dark? The back up generator kicks on and the lights come back on and everybody seems to calm down. The rest of the dinner seems to go well (as well as a dinner can with the justice league and all of Bruce's kids) but strangely, to Bruce's confusion, it somehow only made his "spooky" reputation worse. He's not really sure why the whole league seems to think he lives in a haunted house.
#damian was the wrong kid to send out to get visitors#i think the manor on a sunny day probably looks beautiful#but in the right weather conditions looks super creepy#like the kind of place the addams family would live#and it fits very well with batman's image#batman#bruce wayne#justice league#dc#dc comics#mine
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đđĄđđŚđŠđđ đ§đ đđ¨đ§đđđđđ˘
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đđđđ | đđđ đđđđđđđđđđ đđđđđđđ đđ pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily) masterlist
summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?
warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.
author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.
1996
âHe said what now?!â The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.
âThat youâre the future mother of his children,â said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. âI seriously donât know how you can still resist him, girl.â But resist him, you did.
Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.
Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of menâs wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.
You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkookâs fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. Itâs not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.
He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.
Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.
âHeâs ridiculous,â you finally declared.
âOr cute,â countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished youâd just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you arenât.
âNo, ridiculous,â you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.
âOh, come on, give him a chance finally!!â she exclaimed.
âAbsolutely not! Heâs egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,â you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.
âSee? One good thing â good hair. Marry him,â she laughed it off.
âNow youâre being ridiculous, and Iâm going to be late for work.â You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.
âThatâs a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!â she called after you, and you couldnât help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.
As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.
âWhyâs he half-naked, Lucy?!â You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.
Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his personaâ at least, thatâs how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.
âWe also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!â You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.
âWe shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and absââ
âAlright! Alright!â You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didnât want to look that way nor you didnât want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.
You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldnât deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.
Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the tableâs surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.
âWeâre almost done for today,â he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.
âAnd yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.â You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.
Jungkookâs grin only widened at your remark, and you couldnât decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.
âTutor me then, in bedroom â preferablyâ he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.
âI donât think so. Youâre beyond help,â you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldnât afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.
Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.
It wasnât long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldnât leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.
âWe did a good job, why donât we celebrate it over at my place, baby?â he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.
âJungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,â you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you donât know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.
He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. âWeâll see about that,â he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.
Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkookâs voice echoed from the hallway.
âI bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!â
You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.
âNot a chance.â
The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.
This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.
You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.
It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.
âYou may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,â you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve daysâ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.
When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.
âYou canât just leave.â he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.
You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.
You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.
âWhat are you talking about Jungkook?â His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.
âWhat about us? What about everything weâve built together?â He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.
The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.
âWhat are you even saying, Jungkook?â you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.
âYou canât leave me!â He raised his voice an octave higher.
âCalm your tits. Iâm a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.â You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
âWeâve built something special, and I canât watch it crumble because of some job offer!â He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.
âJungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I canât give you what youâre asking for.â This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the Iâll stay calm and professional card.
His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. âWhat do you mean?â
Choosing your words carefully, you said: âI genuinely value this project we worked on together, but itâs time for us to part our ways.â To fool him was your goal.
Jungkookâs shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. âWho are you lying to, Y/N?â His words shocked you.
âIâm not lying Jungkook, Iâm telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.â You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.
The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.
âSo, itâs all about the career for you? Youâre willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?â Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.
âThere is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!â So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.
âI canât believe youâre throwing away what we have because of some job.â Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.
âDo I need to spell it out for you? Iâm not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!â
But Jungkook wasnât ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.
Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.
It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.
With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.
âI need you to leave,â you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.
Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.
âLeave!â You growled, turning your back to him. You didnât want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. Youâre overwhelmed.
A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.
Youâve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.
You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. âFucking bastard.â
In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.
Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.
The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that youâre planning to leave.
As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.
You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Kleinâs delivered another blow.
Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.
They hadnât even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldnât be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are â jobless.
All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.
You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his faceâ he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once youâre there.
Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before youâll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.
Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.
With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkookâs bunny smile reaching his eyes.
âWell, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?â He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.
He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.
âI know you took it,â you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.
âTook your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.â Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.
âDonât play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boyââ You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.
He sighed, weariness settling over him. âYou think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? Youâre giving me too much credit, love.â Here he comes.
âI said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.â You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.
âI managed to figure that out. A drink? ââ He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.
âI donât want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,â you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.
âLetâs talk, baby.â He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.
As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.
You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.
âI need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,â you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.
âThose are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.â Your incredulous glare only intensified.
âAre you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? Youâve just jeopardised everything Iâve worked for, and youâre calling this a wake up call?â
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.
âI can get you a better job.â
You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.
âYou canât get a shit, so give it back to me, and Iâll be on my way,â you requested.
Jungkookâs smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.
âNo,â he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.
âWhat do you mean no?!â you shot back, your voice sharp.
âYou were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.â
âWhat the fuck are you on again?â Jungkookâs gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.
You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version wonât get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.
âAlrightââ You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.
Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.
ââwhat do you want?â you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.
âWhat do I want?â he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.
âSpill it out.â You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.
When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.
âFirstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an âusâ. Secondlyââ he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.
You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. âI wonât apologise for any shit, now secondly?â You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.
His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.
âI want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cockââ you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.
âYou walk out that door, and youâre done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,â Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.
âYouâre bluffing.â His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.
âYouâre underestimating the consequences, Y/N. Iâll snap my fingers, and you wonât get a job. Anywhere.â A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.
âYouâve already done enough. You canât do worse.â You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.
âYouâre not leaving, Y/N. Either youâll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.â As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.
âI am my own woman, Jungkook.â Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.
With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkookâs apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.
Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkookâs vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.
A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox â an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and thatâs how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.
Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.
Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.
The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.
You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.
Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.
âJeon speaking,â his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.
âHello?â you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.
âI-Iâm sorry.â The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.
âI need you.â
You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkookâs penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.
Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.
Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.
As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?
The sound of Jungkookâs footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.
He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.
You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.
âBaby?â he called out. You mustâve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.
âMâsorry, I was in my head,â you apologised. You didnât want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him youâre not his baby.
He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. âDonât worry. I got you now.â
The drive to Jungkookâs penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.
âWelcome home!â The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldnât bring yourself to do so.
He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.
âBaby?â You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.
âDo you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?â He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.
Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.
âI... I think we should talk,â you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkookâs smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.
You couldnât ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.
âI promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I canât be tied to you indefinitely.â You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldnât appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.
Jungkookâs expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaakâs âWicked Gameâ resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.
He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.
âMaybe we got lost in translation, love.â He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.
âYou wonât leave me, baby. Iâll keep you so satisfied and happy; you wonât even want to go.â He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.
âYou canât keep me here against my will, Jungkook,â you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.
âTry me, love. Iâve got ways to make you stay,â he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.
It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.
You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.
âIâm so tired of your running,â he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.
âMaybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.â He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldnât help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.
âJungkook-â You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.
âIâm gonna fuck you so good.â He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.
âIf you want that job, baby, why donât you deserve it first?â you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.
As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. âHm?â He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.
âW-what do you want?â You stammered out of yourself.
âYou. All of you of course.â Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.
âPleaseââ you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.
âGive me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?â Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.
âMaybe you need a little more convincing, hm?â He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.
âWhat will it be, baby?â His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.
âFuckââ you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldnât. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.
âYes!â you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkookâs interpretation did not align with yours.
What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.
He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.
Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.
His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.
You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.
âIâm gonna!ââ you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.
âNot yet,â said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.
The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.
âYouâre so fucking beautiful.â He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.
He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.
âCondoââ you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.
âCondom, Guk,â you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldnât deny he was hot as hell.
Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe thatâs why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.
You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.
He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like youâre going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.
The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.
âYou take me so well, baby.â He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.
âGot me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.â You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.
You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.
âThis pussy was fucking designed for me.â He claimed you.
He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now itâs not the time.
âMâwanna pound this pretty ass too.â He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.
âJungkook!â his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if youâll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.
âYou belong to me.â He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.
Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.
âGukââ you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.
âI know, baby.â He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you donât want to leave.
âI-Iâm gonna cum! Iâm gonna cum! Iâm gonna cum!â You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.
âBaby!â He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.
Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkookâs hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.
As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.
âI love you so much babyââ
It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.
But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogueâs Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.
âFuck,â you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.
You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasnât just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.
The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.
And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the menâs wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.
The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the womenâs department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.
And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.
You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.
Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too closeâextremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.
âFuck it, itâs fine.â Youâd manage somehow, or at least, thatâs how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.
You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he mustâve been there.
The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.
You couldnât help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.
You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears â a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.
Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.
âBaby!â He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wantedâvulnerable and dependent on him.
The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.
âMorning, beautiful,â he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.
âItâs almost five pm.â You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.
âHow do you like your steak?â he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadnât just occurred.
âM-medium rare,â you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.
You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.
He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.
âSomething wrong, baby?â he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.
âNo, nothing,â you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.
âI-I thinkââ you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.
âBaby?â he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.
âI think... I needâ,â you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkookâs expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.
Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that youâre trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.
You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkookâs concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.
âOh my god! Are you okay baby?â He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didnât have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.
His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.
âEasy, baby. Easy,â he murmured softly.
After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.
As you caught your breath, you couldnât help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkookâs in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.
Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkookâs worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.
âWhen was the last time you ate properly, baby?â he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.
You knew very well that this wasnât a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.
âWhy donât you freshen up, and Iâm going to finish dinner.â He sighed and kissed your temple. Youâve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldnât shake the feeling of being exposedâphysically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.
Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and thatâs when you noticed what you did not when you woke up âa closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.
Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.
Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadnât signed up for.
The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadnât had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.
As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mindâhow had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.
Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.
âAre you listening to me, baby?â Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.
âThereâs Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could matchââ
âWhat about the job?â You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.
âSo the Grammysââ he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.
âSo the job, Jungkook.â You said through clenched teeth one more time. You werenât about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.
He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.
âYouâve been a very good girl so farââ he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.
âWhy do you have to misbehave now.â His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.
âIâm not misbehaving, Jungkook,â you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. âI need to know about the job. I need to know that youâre actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.â
âThereâs an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior butââ your eyes were full of false hope.
ââuntil I can be sure you wonât leave me the second you get the new job. You wonât go to any interview.â He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.
Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steepâan indefinite surrender of your autonomy.
âThatâs not what we agreed uponââ You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.
âOh but we did baby.â He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.
âIââ you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.
âI said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You canât take it back.â
âWhat does that even mean?!â You whined out.
âThat I wonât let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.â The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkookâs possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.
âYou canât force me,â words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.
âYou underestimate the lengths Iâll go to keep you, Y/N,â he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.
âYouâre sick.â You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.
âArenât you a bit ungrateful, my love?â he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.
âIâm providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.â
âItâs sick, Jungkook. This isnât love,â you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
âYouâre testing my patience, Y/N. Youâre mine,â he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.
âThink with your pretty little head, wonât you?ââ you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.
ââyou can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other â me.â The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.
âWhat is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.â He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling heâs not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.
âYouâre asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.â You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.
âYouâre too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need meââ He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.
ââwhat were you gonna do if you didnât come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?ââ You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.
ââI helped you. I am here for you!â He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.
âAll Iâm asking in return is you to give yourself to me.â With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.
âLove and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.â
âYou promise?â you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.
âI promise, baby,â he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldnât shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldnât afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.
You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.
The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkookâs hands traced patterns on your back.
Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.
âItâs all gonna feel better once you accept it.â Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.
âI cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,â you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.
âI did it for us, baby.â His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.
âStop being delusional. There is no us.â You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.
Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.
âYou didnât seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?â Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. Heâs putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place â thatâs what he called it.
âMatter of fact, Imma show you again that thereâs us baby, until you realise it yourself.â
Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.
âIt was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girlââ he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.
âOpen up babyââ you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.
The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.
Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.
âI knew you could be my good girl.â He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.
âYou just need a bit of a re-education.â He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought youâre going to pass out soon.
âJust a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.â He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.
âFuck, Y/N. Youâre my heaven.â Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.
He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.
âSwallow.â
The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.
If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.
Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.
When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.
The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.
You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.
The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.
He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed thatâs where he mustâve hidden it.
You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.
As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.
The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.
The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.
Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.
With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.
You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. âJungkookâs Mysterious Muse Revealed!â the headline screamed at you.
It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkookâs in a tale of intrigue.
It was dated right when you started working on Kleinâs campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time youâre seeing this. You couldnât fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.
A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.
You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.
But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.
The soft shades of colours painted a haunting pictureâa baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This canât be.
âNo..â You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.
A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.
As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.
First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know youâre planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.
Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.
Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.
That youâre alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.
The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.
The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.
âY/N?!â Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.
He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that youâve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.
âCome back right now!â He was mad, that much you could tell.
With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.
He cannot make it all the way down in time before youâll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.
The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.
The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.
It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.
A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where youâre going, nor what youâre going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and youâre willing to take it.
Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.
A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?
Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.
His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?
You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.
âI will not go back.â You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.
âYou will.â
I N T E R L O G U EÂ
Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his motherâs number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.
His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?
He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, youâre finally where you belong. Next to him.
The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.
âEommaââ Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.
âJungkook, dear! How is my baby?â His motherâs voice held a blend of joy and concern.
âIâm doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,â he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.
âOh? Do tell,â his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
âY/N moved in.â His motherâs delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.
As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.
âAre you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?â His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But thatâs given and final in his mind, thereâs something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you wonât be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.
âWeâre trying for a baby, Eomma.â
.
.
.
Špennyellee. please do not repost
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Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! âĽ
lots of love, đđđđđđđđđ
#bts fanfic#bts#bts fic#soft yandere#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook smut#bts jungkook#jungkook seven#jeon jungguk#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x calvin klein#jungkook x oc#jungkook x y/n#jungkook yandere#bts x reader#jungkook scenarios#bts jk#bangtan#bts smut#yandere bts#yandere jungkook#90s aesthetic#fashion au#heartthrob#fic: champagne confetti#Spotify
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ASOIAF Men When You Get Engaged to Someone Else
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Harwin Strong, Jon Snow x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, slight angst, threats, marriage declaration, possessive behavior, jealousy, suggestive, marriage proposal
A/N: HOTD s2 keeps making me go nuts.
Daemon immediately wants to make you his by any means necessary. In his mind you are already his anyways, thereâs no issue in taking you for himself is there? There were many times where it almost happened anyways so why not take that final step now, besides if people find out that he was the one who did it there arenât many people that would dare to challenge him.
Aemond decides that he will declare you as his fiancĂŠe already. Power, money and influence go a long way and there are few who have more than he does. He becomes very open with his affections and intentions towards you, especially in front of the man who wants to be your husband. Should it be necessary he will go to war for your hand but he knows youâd rather avoid such unnecessary bloodshed.
Harwin wonât accept anyone who canât defeat him in a duel as your future husband. Even if they are of a higher status than him, even if you are of a higher status than him he wants to prove himself to be worthy of your love. Really doesnât care if he seems like a lovesick fool, if it will win him your hand then let him be one. Promises to be the best husband, the most loving and gentle, your own knight in shining armor.
Jon felt heartbroken when he heard of your engagement to some noble in a different kingdom. While true that he a member of the Night's Watch and as such canât be there for you a lot he never wants you to feel like he doesnât love you or doesnât want you. Makes a trip back to you to confess his love all over again and ask you to marry him in secret. You donât need to say that he is your husband but you can always wear a ring as promise.
#house of the dragon x reader#game of thrones x reader#hotd x reader#got x reader#asoiaf x reader#daemon x reader#aemond x reader#harwin x reader#jon x reader#hotd imagine#got imagine#asoiaf imagine#hotd headcanon#got headcanons#asoiaf headcanons#hotd fluff#got fluff#asoiaf fluff#daemon targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#harwin strong x reader#jon snow x reader
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Hey, can I please request Jacaerys x aunt!reader where he goes to her after the dance as she had been imprisoned in the dungeons and he offer her to let him have her or she'll be sentenced to death or sum. And reader is as pious and religious as Alicent and she is horrified by the idea of being sullied by ""bastard seed"" but she reveals to be c0ck-drunk by the end of it?
Jace Velaryon*Perfect Wife
Pairing: Jace x f!reader
Word count: 2809
Warnings: dub con, imprisonment, held at knife point (not during smut), praise, degradation, nipple play, p in v sex, hickeys, spanking, bruising, forced marriage, smut 18+c
Masterlist here
You werenât much of a warrior. You had been raised the way a princess should have been. Well, thatâs what your mother told you. However, when two days had passed since Aemond and Aegon had left to confront Rhanerya, and everyone refused to tell you what was happening you decided to get the hell out of there on your dragon.
Maybe youâd end up in Essos and sell a dragon egg for a home. Maybe even Dorne. You could try throw yourself on their mercy. After all, their ambassadors had always seemed to enjoy your company. However, all your plans soon crumbled when you accidentally flew into what youâd assumed to be an empty clearing.
Youâd landed in a small field and had quickly tried to âborrowâ an apple from a local farm when you felt a strong grip on your arm and a sharp blade on your neck. So cold it had to be Valyrian steel. âAnd who do we have here?â you recognised Jaceâs voice clearly. âDidnât your mother ever tell you pretty girls shouldnât go about dawdling?â
-
The stone floors bruised your knees each time you knelt to pray but you didnât complain or even wince at the pain. Youâd counted the days youâd been here by etching marks in the stone with the corner of your Seven-star necklace your mother had given you. 27 days so far. Each morning you prayed. Well, what you thought was morning. Then each afternoon then evening. Each time to a different member of the seven. Even the stranger since perhaps the god of death was the one you truly needed right now.
âMy lady,â a sing song voice called out, âLunch is ready,â Jace said as he approached your cell with his usual grin. He didnât come every day but when he did it only seemed to add to your punishment. âI made sure to pick you the freshest apple,â he crouched down, holding it out to you.
You kept your eyes on the ground as you tried to finish your prayer, âCâmon now. Theyâre clearly not listening to you,â he mocked, sitting down the tray in front of the bars to your cell.
Still, you ignored him as you wrapped them up. Jace sighed and just as you finished your prayers he stood, taking the tray with him. âWhere are you going?â you called, moving to stand on your feet and grabbing the bars, âThatâs my food,â
âNo this is my food,â he said, as if he was calling the sky blue, âAnd you never took it,â
âI was praying!â
âNot fast enough,â he teased. âMaybe next time youâll remember to acknowledge the heir to Westeros,â he said as he turned to leave.
âMy brothers not here,â you mumbled, turning around to go take your place on the wooden bench they called a bed.
The wine cup clattered against the wall, missing your head by only an inch. You span on your heels to confront him, but the only trace was your food dropped on the ground in a head and the apple slowly rolling towards your cell.
It stopped just out of armâs length of the bars as if the gods really were mocking you. It took you laying on the ground, stretching out the tips of your fingernails to manage to roll it closer so you could grab it. You consoled yourself knowing he never came twice in one day.
Yet this time he did.
Jace arrived with a meal so nice looking it almost reminded you of what you used to eat. There was even a whole chicken leg on it. when he saw the apple core in the corner of your cell Jace couldnât help but laugh. âHere,â he said, reaching it out for you to try manoeuvre through the bars when he suddenly pulled it back, âArenât you going to thank your prince?â
âThank you,â you glared, reaching your hand out.
Jace just smirked, âThank you what?â
âThank you, dear nephew,â you offered with a fake smile.
âSay it. say that I am the true heir, a true prince, and I will be most obliged to give you this chicken leg. Straight from the queens table,â he said, showing it to you once more just to rub it in.
You could feel your stomach rumble, but you couldnât say it. not after all this time. Not after all the battles. Not for a chicken leg. âMy mother isnât here,â you said through gritted teeth.
Jace reached through the bars, grabbing your neck before you could react. His grasp was tight but despite his fingers digging into your skin you werenât afraid, âI can only be so patient,â he warned before letting you go. He turned to leave, taking the food with him, âbesides, who said your mother is even alive?â he mocked before slamming the door shut behind him.
The stalemate continued for another day and a half and suddenly you were regretting not rationing the apple. At least the guards had kept your water jug topped up, but you didnât want to risk that being taken too.
âI have a new deal,â Jace said, walking in empty handed.
âWhereâs my food?â you said, not even standing from where you sat on your bed.
âThatâs not very polite,â Jace tutted, leaning against the bars, âHow would you like to get out of here?â you couldnât help your eyes widening at the idea. Something Jace seemed to revel in. he unlocked your cell and despite wanting to run you sat still as he closed the door behind him. âCome here. Let me get a closer look at you,â
You wanted to slap him but instead you stood up and slowly crossed the floor while Jaceâs eyes scanned your frame. âStill so beautiful,â he mumbled before he finally brought his eyes back to yours as your cheeks burned, âI have a new proposal for you,â he said, reaching to stroke your cheek. He was gentle but you still flinched at his touch.
He stepped closer, moving his hand down till he was toying with your necklace, his eyes not so subtly on your chest, âMarry me,â he said, and you instantly grimaced at his words, âBe my wife and I will let you free,â
âI wouldnât be free,â you snapped, âIâd be the wife of a bastard, a nobody, a waste of space- âyou began to spit your venom at him only to be cut off by his tight grasp around your neck.
âI wouldnât be so hasty if I was you,â he warned, âWhat Iâm offering is generous. You should hear what Daemon had planned for you,â he dropped his grip and you instantly stepped back, trying to recatch your breath.
Jace slowly began to circle you, eyeing you up from every angle as you silently thought over his offer when suddenly a thought popped into your head, âWhatâs in it for you? Last time I checked you already had a betrothed,â
âAlliances can change, we both know thatâ he drawled, his chest pressed against your back while his hand grazed your hip. Not mine, you thought, but you stayed silent instead. âBesides I need a wife. Someone to show off in court,â his hand trailed up from your hip to your waist making you shudder through the thin dress theyâd gave you, âSomeone to bear children. Someone to warm my bed,â he said, his lips pressed against your ear.
His hand went to move to your front, but you grabbed his wrist before he could touch anything, âIâd rather die,â you spat.
Jace grabbed your hips, spinning you around and pulling you flush against his chest, âThat can be arranged,â he warned but he still wore his teasing smirk, âYou think youâd survive here without me? A pretty young things like yourself in nothing but her night dress roaming around court, think of the scandals. Gods help you if you even make it out the castle. What do you think the small folk would do with a princess like you?â
âPerhaps theyâd save me. If they believed in the true king,â you said, trying to hold firm but feeling yourself shake.
He chuckled under his breath, âThere is only a queen. Câmon, I canât be that bad surely. You saying youâve never thought about it?â he said, his hand moving down to your ass, his lips moving to your ear, âIts not just the gods who know your dirty little secrets,â he whispered, his hot breath fanning your neck.
âI want my dragon back,â you said suddenly making Jace lift his head from where heâd been dragging his lips across your neck, âIf Iâm to be your wife,â
âAs soon as your belly swells with my seed,â he said, âAnything else?â
It felt like a trap, but you tried anyway, âAnd separate rooms. I donât want to see you more than I have to,â
He chuckled this time, âThat can be arranged, anything else?â you eyed him carefully before shaking your head no. one child and then you could escape with your dragon. It would take a year, maybe two, and then youâd be free. âGood. I shall have them draw up a treaty. But in the meantime,â he said, grabbing your ass so suddenly you gasped, âI want some kind of reassurance you wonât back out,â
âAnd whatâs that?â you asked through gritted teeth.
âI want to fuck you,â he said making the words dry up in your throat, âAnd if I didnât know any better id say you wanted me too,â
âAnd if I say no?â you asked.
Jace dropped his grip, but a smirk fell on his lips as he began to walk away. âThen no deal,â he said, reaching for the door.
âWait!â you called, reaching out to grab his arm. Jace turned his gaze back to you with a knowing smirk, âI suppose if you are to be my husband. The gods, theyâd understand,â you said, trying to rationalise it all.
Jace moved closer to you till his chest was flush against yours, âIâm sure theyâd understand after all,â he said, pushing the hair out of your face, âWho could blame you for wanting some pleasure in your life?â he said, his hand trailing down till he grabbed your tit, squeezing it softly, âWhy would something that feels so good be so wrong?â he whispered in your ear, his hand traveling lower to your thighs, toying with the hem of his dress.
His lips moved to kiss down your jaw, across your neck till he was kissing your undiscovered sweet spot making you moan softly. His arms moved to slip around your waist, pulling you somehow closer to him as your hands rested on his shoulders. You gasped when he squeezed your ass and winced at the quick slap, he gave it before his hands moved to the hem of your dress.
The cold air rushed over your frame, making your nipples harden as Jace pulled the dress over your head in one swoop. The only thing to cover you was your necklace but right now that felt even worse. Jaceâs eyes travelled your frame, soaking up every inch, âThe gods have blessed me with you,â he murmured.
âYou do not know the gods,â you glared but Jace just chuckled as his hands went to cup your tits, stroking his thumbs over your perked nipples making you whimper.
âPerhaps you donât either,â he said as he led you by your hips to your bed. He sat on it, his hands resting on your hips as he pulled you into his lap.
His lips moved to your collarbones, kissing and nipping at the soft skin. Your brain told you to push him away, but a strange feeling was overcoming your body as his hands moved to your hips. You could feel a hard bulge under his trousers as he began to move your hips, pushing your core onto his clothed cock. You moaned at the friction, his bulge rubbing perfectly against your clit sending shock waves up your body.
Soon you felt your hips begin to buck and move of their own accord. You felt his smirk against your skin as his hands moved to your tits. You gasped when he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers making you moan. âOh god,â you couldnât help the moan that slipped out when he took one into his mouth, sucking on the perked bud.
You werenât sure what had come over you, but you felt a knot tightening in your stomach, your moans growing louder as you took the gods in vain at the top of your lungs. You felt your peak hit you like a boulder before you slumped into Jaceâs chest.
He moved to kiss your cheek with a chuckle. âNot even fucked you yet and look at you,â Jace said, slipping his hand down to rub against your sensitive core making your body lurch, âSo wet for me,â he praised, his hand moving to unlace his trousers. âCanât wait to see what my cock does to you,â
Before you could protest you felt his tip pressing into your entrance. You gasped, your hands moving to grab his shoulders, âAw,â Jace pouted, âDoes it hurt?â he mocked, pushing you down further, âToo fucking bad,â he practically growled as he used your hips to push you all the way down.
You almost screamed at the feeling, as if you were being split in half but Jace groaned, throwing his head back against the wall as you felt his cock twitch inside you, âFuck youâre so tight,â he praised, giving you a moment to adjust. Your hips betrayed you again, moving without your mind thinking making him chuckle.
âSuch a desperate little thing,â Jace mocked, grabbing your jaw as you tried to move away. His thumb ran over your bottom lip before using it to pry your mouth open, resting it on your tongue, âGood girl,â he praised, his free hand moving your hips.
âFuck,â you gasped as you felt him hit all the right spots. You gave up trying to resit as your hips began to grind onto his cock.
Jaceâs hands moved to your hair, grabbing it suddenly and pulling it back so he could have full access to your neck. You were sure by the way he kissed it there would be marks tomorrow but that didnât matter now. Your hands went to his hair, tugging it softly making him growl against your skin.
His free hand went to your ass, grabbing it tightly before suddenly leaving stinging slaps against the soft flesh. You could feel your second peak fast approaching and when Jace moved to run quick circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves you felt your cunt squeeze around him as it came crashing down again.
âFuck,â Jace mumbled, a stream of profanity tumbling from his lips as his hands moved to your hips so he could fuck you through your orgasm, âYou feel so good,â he praised, resting his head in the crook of your neck.
You felt yourself coming down from your high and his movements began to slow, âDonât stop Jace. Please gods donât stop,â you began to beg, and you could feel his smirk.
âBegging suits you,â he teased, grabbing your jaw so he could make you face him, âYou look so good right now. So drunk on my cock. Is that it?â
âYes,â you whined, âI need you please,â
âAw my poor baby,â he teased, âSo desperate for her king,â
âYes,â you werenât even thinking any longer, and a spark ignited behind his eyes, âNeed you. Want you my king,â you moaned.
Jace grabbed your hips tightly, standing suddenly before turning as you back slammed against the wall. You winced until you felt his hips begin to snap up against yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tight against you. This new angle had him hitting newer spots that had your legs wrapping tight around him.
âSo good,â Jace mumbled against your skin as you felt a third orgasm approaching, âMy perfect little wife,â his words sent you tumbling over the edge.
Jace couldnât resist anymore as your cunt squeezed around his cock and with a couple more pumps, he began to spill his seed. His thrusts became slow as he rode out his own peak, fucking his seed deep inside you. You were both panting as he pulled out, his forehead resting against yours as your feet finally hit the ground again.
âI always knew you had a dark side in you,â Jace chuckled as he pulled away.
âTell anyone and Iâll kill you in your sleep, husband,â you threatened but the last word made him smile. Maybe this was a good trade after all.
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Spencer Reid x she/her!reader
A/N: youâre used to me disappearing for months but I hope by now you can trust that Iâll always come back x
warnings: reader is a victim of misogyny (arenât we all)
In A World Of Boys
Doctor Spencer Reid. His name alone sends your heart thrumming as the elevator ascends, your shoes tapping against the metal ground with excitement and impatience in equal measure. It isnât unusual for a case to have called the team in at the crack of dawn, but that was not something you ever imagined youâd actively look forward to. Then again, you couldnât have counted on the sunrise casting a soft pink, almost heavenly glow to illuminate the office that seemed to converge around one man in particular the moment you saw him.
He approaches you with a warm smile, one mug held to his lips and another held in an outstretched hand, for you. Made just the way you liked it; not that you ever verbalized such details, someoneâs eidetic memory just thought to pay attention to how you prepared your hot drinks until it was a task that could be taken off your hands entirely.
âGood morning.â Spencer greets you, a playful lilt in his voice at just how early this morning is.
âMorning, and cheers.â You share a light chuckle as you clink your mugs together in a gesture of soft comradery, your gazes locking as you take a simultaneous sip.
Such a thing is officially a symbol of trust, but the look in Spencerâs eyes is enough to hold you still if the ground was ripped out from beneath you. His curls are a little disheveled, as always, and his tie is as crooked as ever. Ruggedly handsome would be an accurate description, if you didnât know Spencer better than that, know him to be so much gentler than such a roughened description. And your heart sings for him.
A tradition youâve come to appreciate amongst the BAU during longer flights is sharing stories of their shared pasts. The tales are typically hilarious at the expense of one team member or another, but it is all in jest, and as the newest member of the team, you love hearing about their funniest moments from before you had known the people who have welcomed you so openly.
âOh, we have to talk about the pool incident! What was her name, Spence?â JJ asks with a mischievous glint in her eye, the teamâs attention pulled entirely to Spencer.
You canât withhold the shocked expression on your face, youâve not heard of any previous romantic encounters in Spencerâs life; this should be interesting.
âIt was Lila, wasnât it? Câmon, Spence, itâs been years, you can tell us now!â JJ presses, the rest of the team egging her on, but you stay quiet, your interest piqued to the extent that you canât utter a word.
âLila was an admirably strong woman, but as much as I hate to disappoint, thereâs really nothing more to tell.â Spencer shrugs, smile unreadable.
In his former years, such a question would have flustered him, but not anymore. His answer is enough to fluster you, however. A man who doesnât kiss and tell, and is so quietly firm in such a resolve, is one to keep in mind.
As if to make matters worse, Spencer then rises from his seat on the jet and strolls past you, making the effort to lean away from you - in case any sudden turbulence should unsteady him, he wonât risk even nudging you - on his journey to the galley. And the way he walks, the delicate trail of his cologne lingering in his wake when he passes your seat, itâs dizzying.
This is a moment that you know you will never forget, and you canât help envying the fact that Spencer can so effortlessly recall every moment spent with you in the depths of eidetic memory. Itâs almost ritualistic, how you lie in bed every night and replay your most treasured moments with Spencer, to send yourself to a peaceful sleep in which you hope to dream of him. Part of you wonders if he ever replays moments with you in his mind, with more clarity than you can ever hope to possess.
Little do you know, you are his favorite film.
On nights when insomnia strikes, you are the guaranteed remedy. When it is for you, Spencerâs eidetic memory is nothing short of a gift. He has a library dedicated to you, containing every look in your eyes, every micro-expression, every variation of your laugh, your smile, every word you have ever said in his presence. Sometimes, it takes him hours to decide which memory of you heâll replay before he allows himself to sleep.
Neither of you are aware of how many nights you have spent lying awake in the same hours, focussing on the very same memories. While you absentmindedly play with the little flower charm on the necklace that Spencer bought you for your birthday, his gaze will drift to the special edition of Frankenstein that you bought him, for no reason other than it made you think of him. Of course, Spencer already had a copy, but the one from you lives on his bedside table. He had the edition completely memorized in a matter of minutes, but he has devoted more time to rereading that book than he has any other, because you gifted it to him. Sometimes, Spencer traces the spine and wonders where youâd held it before gifting it to him; if that will be as close as he ever comes to the blessing of one day holding your hand.
One of your most vivid memories with Spencer - and one that you frequently use to fall asleep with a smile on your face - first came to be during your second week working with the team. You didnât know Spencer very well then, but you knew enough to be besotted by him; you knew that from the moment his eyes first met yours. A case required an undercover mission centered around you, as the only member of the team to fit the unsubâs type. While you could have handled the mission on your own, Spencer insisted that he be placed undercover inside the club you were set to enter, posing as a member of the public, to ensure you had immediate backup if you needed it. The undercover mission itself went without a hitch, though Spencer spent the duration of it trying his very best not to crush the glass he pretended to nurse in his hand as he watched the unsub flirt with you mercilessly, and without an ounce of respect. When the unsub was arrested and dragged out of the bar, you and Spencer followed, and he went to one of the government-issued vehicles to grab his FBI jacket for you while advising you to stand in the doorway and wait. He didnât want you getting cold in your pretty dress, but that was a detail he kept to himself.
As you stood in the doorway, leaning against a wall with your arms crossed over your chest, the wind caught the thigh-high slit in your dress, exposing the skin of your thigh only momentarily, but it was enough for some sleazy, drunk middle-aged man to leer out you.
âSexy lady!â He had called out to you in a slurred voice, opening his arms to you, beer bottle in hand.
And, as every woman has learnt to do, you gave him your best, tight lipped, polite smile.
âThanks, but no thanks.â You answered as evenly as you could.
In an instant, the sleazeâs smirk was gone, replaced with an almost disgusted frown.
âStupid slut.â He muttered, so quietly you almost didnât hear him, but in the time it took for your eyes to widen, Spencer had pinned the manâs hands behind his back and sent the beer bottle shattering on the ground - collateral damage from shoving the sleaze into the nearest wall.
âYou are under arrest for drunk and disorderly behaviour, as well as sexual harassment, and absolutely any other charge I can find when I dig up every morsel of your existence.â Spencerâs words were eerily quiet, but they were sharper than any youâd ever heard, dripping with a venom you didnât imagine he was capable of possessing then.
After tossing the drunk misogynist into the back of one of the police cars still on the scene from your undercover mission, Spencer walked over to you and draped his FBI jacket over your shoulders, tugging it around you with a gentleness that completely juxtaposed what you had just witnessed.
âIâm sorry.â Heâd said quietly, warranting a confused frown from you, that urged him to elaborate. âIâm sorry that you were treated in such an abhorrent way, and that you had to see me like that.â
Your frown melted into an adoring smile. âSpencer, youâve got nothing to apologize for. Thank you for defending me from a man that I doubt realizes he even did anything wrong. While he might be the scum of the earth, you-â You gently poked his chest through his shirt, â-are a gentleman.â
Spencer had thought then that his heart couldnât possibly soar higher than that, but oh, how wrong he had been.
Coincidentally, one of Spencerâs favorite memories of you is one you can recall very little of. It was the only occasion on which Spencer had politely declined the teamâs invitation to a local bar for drinks in an evening. He had been rereading the copy of Frankenstein youâd bought him, comfortably nestled on his couch with a lingering smile as he sought pieces of you in between the lines of text, when his phone rang.
Seeing your name, Spencer picked up in a microsecond.
â(Y/N)? Is everything alright?â His mind was immediately reeling. Had something happened? Were you safe?
A sniffle came through the phone, and his heart shattered.
âJusâ so lonely.â Your voice was slurred by the alcohol youâd consumed, but in the sweetest way. Your words did little to ease the anxiety swirling in Spencerâs mind, because every time he had seen you drink, you had been the giggliest mess heâd ever known; you had never been the stereotypical sad-drunk, as far as he knew.
âLonely? Arenât you at the bar with the team?â He questioned, because he could hear other voices in the background of the call and alarm bells were ringing. Had the rest of the team left? Or, worse, had you drunkenly wandered off somewhere and gotten lost? He was already putting his shoes on and grabbing a jacket.
âYeah, but theyâre not you.â There was an urgency and an aching sadness to your words, Spencer could hear it even through the distortion of a phone call, and your words stumped him. He blinked once, then twice, before replying.
âWell, no, they arenât me.â
He felt that had been an obvious distinction, but perhaps you needed him to make that clear in your drunken state.
An equally dramatic and exasperated sigh came through the phone. âI know that, and thatâs why Iâm sad. I miss you!â
Spencer was out of his apartment door in record time, racing down the stairs until he reached the parking lot beneath his building.
âYou miss me? Really?â He had asked you because he wanted to hear you say it again, he had to, the smile on his face growing exponentially.
âLots.â Your voice broke on that one word, and it was enough for Spencer to risk several speeding tickets to reach you in a time he would never, ever tell you, because youâd lecture him about road safety. Perhaps someday he will tell you, just to hear you speak to him for a prolonged period of time, even if itâs a lecture at the expense of his reckless adoration.
By the time Spencer arrived at the bar, you were a blubbering mess in Rossiâs arms. It was only when you were transferred to Spencerâs arms that your drunk mind registered his presence, and the sheer joy on your face despite your tears was something he knew would be his only remaining memory if he lost everything else in some freak accident. Amidst your incoherent mumblings of compliments and praises towards Spencer - each and every one under lock and key in his heart ever since - he carried you back to his car and drove you home with your body wrapped almost entirely around his arm from where you sat in the passenger seat of his car. Once at your house, he carried you to the door bridal style, lowering you temporarily so that you could clumsily unlock your front door, before he picked you back up again and carried you inside, all the way to your bed. And there, he laid you down, slipped your shoes off, tucked you into bed, and wiped your face with your skincare products efficiently, from what youâd told him of your nightly routine. He fetched you a glass of water and sat you up to drink the whole thing, then refilled it and set it on your bedside table - in case you woke up thirsty in the night, or if you needed it first thing in the morning. Lying you back down, he left a little kiss on your forehead, and due to your eyes being closed, he assumed you were already falling asleep, until you reached for his hand when he tried to go.
âStay.â You pleaded in a barely-conscious and far-from-sober tone.
Spencer smiled at you like you were the stars in the sky.
âAlright.â He almost whispered, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, while you laid under your covers, practically curled around where he sat.
With one of his hands on your shoulder, Spencer sat with you, spelling out words youâd never register on the back of your shoulder blade with his thumb and index finger.
So beautiful.
Everything.
To be yours.
And as his thumb curved the last letter âsâ on the back of your hand, Spencer heard your breathing settle to a rate that told him you were dreaming. Very slowly, he tucked you under the bedcovers, stood himself up, and left, but not before leaving you with a message he intended for you to comprehend later. You had not consented to Spencer staying the night with you, and you were in no position to give that consent in your state, but you had asked him to stay, so he stayed until you wouldnât know that heâd gone.
The next morning, you awoke to a little note on your bedside table that simply said:
Good morning, angel. Please drink some water and let me know you survived drinking enough alcohol to fill the Hoover Dam (not literally, thatâs not biologically possible).
-Spencer x
It was enough to make you laugh, and despite your immediate pounding headache, you reached for your phone.
You: hahaha, very funny. thank you so much for last night, Iâm sorry for the mess â¤ď¸
And, to your accustomed surprise, Spencer started typing back immediately.
Spencer: Iâm glad that you survived to enjoy my joke. You are always welcome, and you have nothing to apologize for.
You went to set your phone down on your bedside table again, when it lit up with another text.
Spencer: â¤ď¸
Surviving the alcohol you consumed was nothing compared to the way you had to fight for your life upon receiving that.
That morning, when you were called into the office for a case, youâd expected to be greeted with an onslaught of teasing from your coworkers, but Spencer had enough time before you arrived to plead with the rest of the team not to embarrass you. Surprisingly, they had agreed, but on one condition: Spencer had to do something about his workplace crush, because the rest of the team were losing their patience with the tension between you. To save you the embarrassment, Spencer sacrificed his own dignity in agreeing to that, and itâs been hanging over his head ever since.
The clouds beneath the jet serve as an interesting background to your thoughts, your headphones blocking out any and all sound beyond your music. You are away in your own little world, save for the part of your brain that is acutely aware of your elbow touching Spencerâs with the only barrier being your jacket and his. Does he spend as much time dwelling on these things? Does he ever wonder, like you do, that this connection between you could amount to something else, something more, if either of you were willing to take the risk? The risk is, in itself, a great one. While the risks surrounding any love in general are an obvious factor, in your shared field of work, that is exacerbated. Neither of you can explicitly trust that you would be able to act professionally if the other was harmed in any way, and you could bear witness to any degree of harm against the other while in the field. If that wasnât enough, should it not work out, you would have no choice but to leave your dream job to work and live elsewhere, uprooting the life youâve built here in its entirety; while Spencer would stay with the family he has worked with for so many years, the building would never feel the same to him without you in it. Whoever took your desk after you, he would be unable to withhold a small amount of resentment towards - he would never act on it, but he would feel it. And the guilt of being with him having caused you to have to restart your life somewhere else? That is a weight he is terrified of carrying. So many have faced worse fates as a result of getting close to Spencer, but when it comes to you, he cannot think of any worse than that, or his chest will start to hurt.
Perhaps this case is the perfect opportunity, he wonders to himself while a female cop converses with him, barely occupying even half of Spencerâs brain as he focuses on thoughts of you.
âI think itâs great you guys have come down here to help us!â The local cop grins up at Spencer.
A case in Vegas, where he could use some time once the case is closed to show you some of his favorite places. Youâd like that, he thinks.
âThank you, weâre always happy to help when requested.â Spencer answers casually.
But from the little office youâre working in, you can see the way that local cop is ogling at Spencer, and you feel a twinge of jealousy. It was only a few minutes ago you were looking at the hazel in his eyes up close in the same way she currently is, but you like to think youâre a little less obvious than that. You are not.
âSome of these guys, you can tell they donât know what theyâre doing, but you definitely do, donât you? Iâve heard the rest of your team calling you a genius!â The local cop babbles to Spencer, eyes like an animal in heat.
Perhaps a tour of the casinoâs? But a certain card-counting ability resulting in a certain state-wide ban would make that somewhat difficult. That probably wouldnât be a very good date. Would it be a date? Spencer wonders, before he shrugs, feeling a little awkward.
âI donât believe intelligence can be accurately quantified given its diversity in both person and circumstance, but I appreciate your faith in the BAU, who Iâd better get back to. Thanks.â With that, he steps away from the officer, thinking nothing of the conversation given that his focus had been elsewhere for the duration of it.
You, however, cannot let it go. To your detriment, you assume a seasoned profiler like Spencer can read flirtatious intent a mile off (his unreliable grasp on social cues begs to differ) and from a distance, it didnât look to you that he outright rejected the advances of another woman (his unreliable grasp on social cues left him unaware there were even advances to reject), and that left you feelingâŚupset. You had thought your relationship with Spencer to be special, that he didnât reject the warm, sweet tension between the two of you because he liked you, specifically, but if he didnât reject the flirtations of another woman, are you just a more regular occurrence of what she offered him?
Little do you know, if Spencer heard your thoughts suggest he only merely âlikedâ you, he may very well go into cardiac arrest under the pressure of the weight to correct you, adamantly. There is not a string of words in his vocabulary to adequately describe what he feels for you, and to imply âlikeâ conveys them is salt in the wound you cause in his heart for each day youâre not his.
Naturally, for the rest of the day you are accompanied by a cloud hanging over your head to consistently remind you of that very same fact - that you are not Spencerâs. It is hardly surprising you do everything in your power to avoid him, offering to assist every member of the team with whatever task theyâre doing to take you out of his reach and prevent him from talking to you. Of course, you know heâll notice, and youâll apologize when youâve recovered enough to not cry at the thought of him, but for tonight are destined to bury yourself in hotel bedcovers that you partially hope suffocate you into unconsciousness to save you further torment.
Most unfortunately for you, only an hour into your tears, there is a soft knock at your hotel room door. By now, you are beyond the point of being able to hide the extent to which you have already cried, so you formulate a number of excuses pertaining to allergies or hormones on your way to the door. All of those lies evaporate on opening your door to find Spencer standing there, looking down at you with pleading eyes that quite frankly make you want to launch yourself from your hotel room window.
âIâm sorry to disturb you, (Y/N), I just came by to-â His eyes widen. âYouâve been crying.â
Itâs not a question; Spencer knows you well enough to not need to doubt himself when he reads your physical tells.
âYeah, donât worry about it. Did you need something?â You brush off his concern, hoping to distract him with whatever his original reason for coming here was - it wouldnât be the first time Spencer materialized in your presence to ask your opinion of something obscure or a social situation he was uncertain of because he felt comfortable enough to come to you about it, you just wanted to get this over with so that you could return to your crying pit.
âI- what? Donât worry about it? Youâve been crying, of course Iâll worry about that! Extensively!â Spencer exclaims, his voice rising in pitch slightly with his distress, before he clears his throat. âI came by to check on you because your behavior today confused me, and it appears I was right to be concerned.â Seeing the apprehension on your face, Spencer is quick to amend the question he was going to ask. âIf youâd prefer not to talk about it, I understand and wonât pressure you, but please donât force yourself to suffer alone if you can help it. Thereâs nothing Iâd rather listen to than you.â
The sincerity in Spencerâs words brings fresh tears to your eyes, and itâs physically painful to look away from him and stare at the doorframe.
âItâs nothing, Spencer, just getting in my head about things that-â You begin, and in a moment that is completely unlike his usually overly-polite self, he interrupts you.
âIs it something I did?â He asks, his eyes widening with the same plea as before.
Spencerâs question surprises you so much that you hesitate to answer him, only for a second before your lips part again, but your delay is enough of an answer to him.
â(Y/N), please tell me I did so that I can fix this. I donât understand- Iâve already gone over our every interaction over the past 48 hours, 30 times each, and Iâm not smart enough to have been unable to determine a conclusion on my own. Please tell me.â Spencer begs, his voice hoarse with the weight of having hurt your feelings without ever intending to.
Knowing he isnât going to forgive himself without an explanation and that heâll see through any lie you give him now, you are left without a choice.
âThat cop you spoke to today, was she flirting with you?â The words fall from your lips freely, and Spencer blinks.
Once, twice, then a third time.
âWhichâŚfemale officer? In the past 8 hours I have spoken to three.â He asks so carefully, like heâs walking on glass.
You have to resist rolling your eyes, because you know Spencer isnât being clueless on purpose, but it doesnât ease your pain.
âJust after midday, the one who was looking up at you like you were the best thing sheâd seen all day.â Now, you canât resist rolling your eyes; an involuntary reaction that makes Spencer frown in confusion.
âThe conversation consisted of her thanking us for assisting them with the case and enquiring as to whether Iâm a genius- to which I said I donât think intelligence can be accurately quantified, and that was it.â Spencer has never been more confused in his entire life. He feels there is something obvious staring him right in his face and he is mortified at being completely blind to it, but he is treading very carefully over this invisible minefield.
âShe was flirting with you, Spencer, didnât you see the way she was looking at you?â Trying to read his expression and only finding confusion is not helping.
âI wasnât really looking at her.â Spencer answers truthfully, because his eyes had been glazed over as he thought of places he could show you while in Vegas, where posed the highest probability of a successful date, should you accept the offer he had every intention of presenting you with.
âYou didnât noticeâŚâ You murmur, your heart sinking in your chest.
You had been upset that Spencer hadnât rejected the advances of another woman under the presumption he understood her advances, but if he truly did not when she was being so obvious, he most likely doesnât notice yours, either. He hasnât been reciprocating the energy you thought was between you for that reason, heâs just been continuing the conversation without a clue. A lump forms in your thought.
Meanwhile, Spencer is even more confused.
âIâm not certain I understand what the issue is. Was it the flirting? Or the fact I didnât register it? Should I have?â He is lost and in desperate need of guidance. As soon as he knows what heâs done to upset you, heâll beg on his knees for your forgiveness, but at this time he is still unable to determine the problem. If you had not realized he didnât acknowledge the flirting until now, that couldnât be the issue, but if the issue was simply that heâd been flirted with, you now knowing he wasnât aware of it would have fixed that - so why do you look more upset? This just in: Doctor Spencer Reid loathes social cues.
âDo you notice when anyone flirts with you?â Answering his question with your own question is only sending him further into a spiral.
You are the only person he ever wishes would flirt with him, but Spencer is absolutely convinced you never would. If he answers ânoâ to your rephrased version of the same question you had just asked him, that appears to be the answer you are assuming to be true which is making you look sadder. He does not understand this at all.
âHow do I answer that in a way that wonât upset you furtherâŚâ Spencer frowns, focussing very hard on your every micro-expression, trying to use your face as a cheat sheet.
âI donât think you can, Spencer. Thanks for coming to check on me. Goodnight.â You give him a weak smile and go to close your hotel room door, but Spencer places a palm against the door with an expression of alarm.
âPlease-â He starts, then stops himself when you meet his eyes, his tone softening. âTalk to me.â
You take a deep breath and decide to bite the bullet. What do you have to lose? Your heartâs already been hit with every weapon of mass destruction you can think of.
âI thought- I thought you knew there was- it wasnât flirting, but thereâs been something between us that I thought you knew as well as I did. Stupidly, I thought you were reciprocating it, but if you couldnât tell that cop was flirting with you, thereâs no way you knewâŚâ Your weak smile wavers. âLike I said, just getting in my head over things. Doesnât matter. You havenât done anything wrong. Night-â
Once again unexpectedly, Spencer interrupts you, but this time for a very different reason.
âI need to sit down.â
Itâs only then you realize how suddenly pale heâs become. Paler than youâve ever seen him, in fact. Your eyes widen, and you grab Spencerâs forearms, guiding him into your hotel room and over to the armchair in the corner of the room, the door clicking shut behind you while Spencer stumbles with the most shell shocked look in his eyes.
âSpencer, whatâs going on? Are you alright?â You ask him worriedly.
âIndeterminable.â Spencer answers in a distant voice.
âOkay, okay, uh-â You flit from him to the sink in your hotel room to grab Spencer a glass of water, that youâre quick to bring to him. âHere.â
His eyes donât even focus on you or the glass, but he takes it from your hand and gulps it down. Spencer makes the mistake of glancing at you mid-sip, and starts choking, resulting in you patting his back.
âSomething between usâŚâ He coughs out. âYou said, something between us. What.â
Your eyebrows furrow, and your face feels hot.
âYou know, mutual pining. Like in movies.â You feel very awkward having to explain that.
âBooks, first.â Spencer corrects you quietly, his breathing finally steadying.
âYeah, okay, books first.â You canât help chuckling lightly and taking the empty glass back over to the sink, then returning to Spencer, but stopping in your tracks when you find him now standing instead of sitting in the armchair.
âA study has shown that on average it takes men 88 days to fall in love, while it takes women 134 days. Contrary to popular belief, I donât believe every aspect of love can be reduced to facts and statistics, but in moments of self-doubt I fall back on what I know. I knew what I knew of how I felt about you on the day we met, but I waited 88 days to be certain, and then it was only logical I waited 134 days to give you the chance to develop even the vaguest pleasant feeling towards me.â He takes a breath. âIt has only been 120 days; I had not yet decided how I was going to broach this topic with you, and the question remains as to whether Iâve waited long enough for you to be as certain as I am. If the answer is anything other than yes, I promise, Iâll wait as many days as it takes, even if itâs a number I canât reach.â Spencerâs voice is that of a man swearing an oath he has no doubt heâll live to honor in every sense, and you are certain your heart has stopped beating.
You stare at him with wide eyes, feeling like time has frozen around you, the only sounds being your breathing to fill the suffocating silence of your hotel room. A microexpression of terror flickers across Spencerâs face, and you are brought back to yourself in an instant.
âI wish youâd asked me 120 days ago.â You say breathlessly.
âI didnât ask anything.â Yet, Spencer adds internally, his heart pounding.
âBut youâre going to.â You clarify softly, and Spencer nods, so you nod back at him.
âWouldâŚâ Spencer clears his throat. âWould you allow me the honor of taking you on a date? With me? Together? Here? Or anywhere- anywhere we can realistically travel to, that is-â As he rambles and gets ahead of himself, your expression of shock evolves into a smile, and itâs your turn to interrupt him.
âYes. Anywhere, anytime. Yes.â You answer.
Thereâs a beat of silence as Spencer catches his breath.
âNow?â He dares to whisper, and youâre grinning, glancing between him, and the provisions of a TV, bed and phone that this hotel room provides.
âWould you be opposed to a first date of takeout and shitty hotel room cable?â You offer playfully.
A bashful smile curls at the corner of Spencerâs mouth as he smiles back at you.
âAnything with you.â He says, but is quick to amend his own words. âProvided itâs an entirely safe scenario, obviously.â
That makes you snicker. âObviously.â
Spencer looks between you and the bed, nervous of how to proceed. You make the first move, taking a step towards the bed, and Spencer offers you his hand - somewhat needlessly, but if he ever misses an instant in which he can deliver a gentlemanly action upon you, he would suggest thatâs the instant you shoot him dead - to assist you onto the mattress before he follows suit and sits down beside you, kicking off his shoes.
âIâm completely underdressed for our first date, sorry.â You joke, looking between your pajamas and Spencerâs suit.
âYouâre beautiful.â Is all he says, his voice softer than youâve ever heard it as he gazes down at you with the most gentle smile.
You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers, and Spencer doesnât hesitate to lift them to his lips to kiss each of your knuckles tenderly.
âTakeout?â He murmurs against your skin, and for a second youâre lost to the daze of his kisses that you wonder if heâs asking whether the act of them has taken you out (to which youâd answer with a resounding yes), but remembering the nature of your date, you nod wordlessly.
Spencer smirks against your knuckles.
âI meant, what kind of takeout?â He amends, and your face feels hot again.
âAnything at all.â Is all you can think to respond, because to be completely honest, you do not care what you eat tonight.
Spencer chuckles quietly at that, keeping his hand holding yours while his other hand reaches for the hotel room phone, to dial for reception and request their recommendations for the best local takeout places.
âWhatâs so funny?â You ask him, but youâre smiling regardless of not yet knowing, just seeing him laugh while his thumb caresses your knuckles.
âI was just thinking, âAnything at allâ is exactly what Iâve thought every time Iâve looked at you.â Spencer muses as he brings the phone to his ear.
Anything at all to make you smile again, anything at all from you, if you asked heâd anything at all for you.
And much like the last time, you donât even realize heâs spelling out words against your skin with the caress of his thumb. This time, though, itâs just one phrase, repeated.
To be yours.
To be yours.
To be yours.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#x reader#imagine#imagines#fanfic#fanfiction#headcannon#headcannons#spencer reid headcannon#spencer reid imagines
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Every Universe (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)
A/N: This was written while I was slightly intoxicated, I regret nothing though and hope you guys enjoy it. It was proofread but I cannot say there will be no grammatical errors. Regardless, please enjoy!! :) Also, takes place in the Deadpool and Wolverine universe.
Word Count: 4,158 (this bitch is long, for me at least)
Warnings: None really unless you count angst and fluff as well as the mention of butt stuff
Finding out that not falling in love with a man being the sole reason you were sent to the void seemed like a pretty patriarchal reason to essentially be damned but who were you to question the TVA.
The day you were sent to the void youâd seen the news, MULTIPLE CASUALTIES AFTER ATTACK AT XAVIERâS SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS, names such as Jean Grey, Marie DâAncanto, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, and Logan Howlett were read out by the heartbroken looking anchor.
Being a mutant yourself, the news stung and left a pit of anxiety in your stomach. It was an attack by an anti-mutant terrorist group, if they were bold enough to attack the home of Charles Xavier, why not a shopping mall next, or another school full of mutant and non-mutant children alike.
Only minutes after the newscast on the tragedy started four rectangular, orange portals opened in front of and behind you. Four men dressed in odd looking military uniforms stalked towards you. You didnât even have time to attempt to fend them off before they grabbed you, holding you down while you attempted to break free but even with your mutation, they were too strong.
All you remembered was one of them placing some weird stick against your stomach and you screamed as you essentially dissolved into nothing.
When you woke you were found by who you now knew as Blade, and were told you were in the Void, where you would stay until you died or were killed by a fellow member of said Void.
Youâd been there for a what you thought was probably a few years when a couple of Deadpool and Wolverine variants were found by Laura in an absolutely fucked Honda Odyssey. She brought them there and Gambit and Blade brought them inside and laid them down. They appeared as if theyâd just had a horrific fight or the most violent sexual encounter ever.
The Wolverine variant was the first to wake up, quite literally shooting up into a sitting position while breathing heavily. His claws extended quickly from his knuckles, and he made an almost animalistic sound.
âEasy there killer,â you almost teased, holding up your hands, youâd been the one unfortunate enough to be closest to him when he woke up, so his eyes immediately fixed on you.
Several emotions seemed to flash across his face at once, his look of anger changing to one of shock. His claws disappeared just as quickly as theyâd appeared just moments ago as you slowly put your hands down, now a little concerned for the man.
âY/N?â, he asked, his head tilting slightly.
It was your turn to look confused, âDid we know each other?â, you asked.
Sure, youâd heard of Wolverine, of Logan, but youâd never met him personally, you had originally been set to attend Charles Xavierâs school when you were 18 but after an attack on the school the same year your parents had decided against it.
The Logan before youâ s face fell slightly; he seemed almost hurt. It took him a second to respond, âI, uh, I guess not.â
That was when Elektra cut in, explaining to Logan where he was and how sheâd found him and Deadpool. While he seemed to only half listen, he got up and found the nearest bottle of Gambitâs booze and started drinking it.
When Deadpool woke up it was a completely different side of weird, you hadnât had the pleasure of coming across a Deadpool variant, but youâd heard how odd they were, and unfortunately for you, you thought they were exaggerating.
After annoying literally everyone in the room, the Deadpool variant all got you to somehow agree to help him and Wolverine get back to the TVA to save his timeline, as well as a sneak attack on Cassandra Nova. The whole time Logan watched you from the corner of his eye.
He couldnât completely convince himself it was you. The last time heâd seen you, you were lying dead on the front lawn of the school, killed by a large group of humans, along with almost everyone at the mansion. You were covered in blood and cold by the time heâd gotten there. Heâd held onto you until the coroner was nearly begging to take you away.
Logan remembered almost everything about you. Your favorite movie, what food you hated, and even the feel of your hand in his. But when you looked at him with little to no recognition in your eyes, his heart couldâve broken all over again.
You had no idea the conflicting feelings heâd had while you sat only a few feet away. You looked practically the same, maybe older than you were when youâd died in his world, he was older too, maybe you just didnât want to be with an old man and were pretending not to know him. He was the worst Wolverine after all, he wouldnât blame you.
But then there were some things you did that reminded him of his version of you, the way your laugh sounded exactly the same, how you sat the same way in your chair, and you even made the same face when youâd taken a drink of Gambitâs whiskey as when youâd sip his occasionally while the two of you sat on the couch in the mansion watching some movie one of the others had put on.
It was you, just, one that apparently hadnât fallen in love with Logan Howlett. Logan himself couldnât help but wonder if that had been your reason for being sent here, but thought better of it, deciding he'd probably never have that kind of impact on any kind of world.
After a successful attack on Cassandra and her small army, Deadpool and Wolverine were gone, and you hadnât expected to ever see them again. Then Cassandra almost destroyed every timeline to exist, and youâd thought for sure those two variants had gotten themselves killed.
But then the TVA came for you and brought you to said Deadpool variants world, which he had successfully and somehow saved with Wolverineâs help. You couldnât help but notice Loganâs shirt missing this time around. Almost cursing yourself for not trying harder to go to Xavierâs school when you were younger, having a chance to meet your worldâs Logan. A manâs abs can do that to a woman.
âHappy to not be in the void and all, but why am I here?â, you asked, eyeing the agents around you and taking in the cracked subway station.
âI thought Iâd give a little gift to Wolvie here,â Deadpool replied in an overly enthusiastic manner, throwing an arm around Logan who instantly pushed him away.
âIâm not a gift to give you dumb fuck,â you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.
Deadpool ignored your obvious distain and continued, âWell I figured since he lost you in his world and you never falling in love in your world caused his death that you could stay here with us!â.
Your eyes widened and you had to think about what heâd said for a moment, âI-I got him killed? I got Logan and those other mutants killed?â.
Logan couldnât focus on the other details once his name left your mouth; he hadnât heard you say that in almost a decade.
You on the other hand turned to the woman beside you that looked to be in charge.
âIs that the reason I was sent there, because I didnât fall in love with Logan Howlett and he died because of it?â, you asked, you felt like you could be sick.
The woman sighed, almost regretful, âYes, it was,â she finally answered you. âWithout your help of your mutation those mutants did not survive that attack on the school.â
âOooooo, trauma plot twist,â Deadpool practically squealed.
âShut the fuck up!â, you snapped back, making Deadpool whisper a bashful, âSorry,â and take a step back.
The TVA agents left shortly after, and that was how you found yourself living in a small apartment with Wade, Logan, and the craziest old lady youâd ever met, Blind Al.
Wade and she shared a room as weird as it was, you were given the spare room Blind Al reluctantly let you use, as it was now formerly her grow room, and Logan elected to sleep on the couch.
You settled in somewhat nicely, you still felt awkward in a world that wasnât yours living with a doofus that you'd grown somewhat fond of and a man you got killed in his other life, but you had new friends, ones that didnât have a huge chance of dying every day so that was a plus.
Yukio and Ellie had gravitated towards you, you were somewhat close in age, with them being early twenties and you in your somewhat late twenties, they reminded you of your younger siblingâs friends from back home in your previous world.
So, when they invited you to go out a month after you settled in, you couldnât say no, it would get you out of the house at least, you wouldnât have to sit and listen to Wade and Logan argue or endure Loganâs kicked puppy look when he thought you werenât looking.
You felt awful you werenât the you he thought you were, and you knew it was nothing you could control but after Wade let it slip what had happened to you in Loganâs world you couldnât imagine how youâd feel if the roles were reversed.
So, to hopefully be able to forget about everything for a few hours you got ready, doing some easy makeup and hair, you put on a cute outfit youâd bought earlier in the week, Yukio had begged you to go shopping after finding out you didnât own anything for âgoing outâ yet on this world.
You relented and picked out a skirt, top, tights, and boots, it was simple yet cute enough to not be mistaken as any old outfit.
When youâd exited your bedroom in your shared apartment shortly before Yukio and Ellie were due to come get you, Wade looked up from whatever the hell he was doing on his phone, which could be anything from porn to angry birds.
His eyes widened slightly, âGot a date?â, he asked, only slightly feigning shock.
Logan had looked up immediately at the mention of a date, he was sipping a bottle of whiskey at the kitchen table. His eyes traveled over your outfit when he thought you were busy glaring at Wade.
âNot that its your business merc but no, Iâm going out with Yukio and Ellie,â you stated, tossing a lip balm you had in your hand to your small purse.
âGirls nightttt,â Wade sang, only making you sigh.
As if a divine intervention interrupted there was a knock on the door and when you opened it you found the two girls standing there waiting.
âHi Wade!â, Yukio exclaimed waving at him.
Wade leaned back in his seat to look around you at Yukio, âHi Yukio!â.
âCome on,â you told them, moving to leave but a hand on your shoulder made you turn around. It was Wade.
âNow honey,â he began, âdonât take drinks from strangers, donât go off alone, and donât hook up with anyone. You know what they say about beer goggles, youâll be waking up next to the crypt keeper.â
While you rolled your eyes and pushed Wadeâs hand off your shoulder although you knew he really did care. Logan on the other hand clenched his jaw. You werenât his and he knew that, but Wadeâs last comment set his teeth on edge.
âIâm a big girl Wade, but thanks,â you told him, turning around and leaving this time without so much as a glimpse Loganâs way.
When the door shut Wade spoke again, âSheâs gonna get picked up by every hottie in the club in that outfit. Did you see her legs Peanut?â.
Wade then almost immediately flinched when he felt glass shatter on the back of his head, the alcohol in the now broken bottle staining the back of his My Little Pony shirt.
He didnât even have to look back to imagine the look on Loganâs face, âGotcha,â was all Wade replied, picking out a rather large glass shard from the back of his neck.
âŚ
It was hours later when you were so drunk you couldnât feel the cold outside, but you sure felt good on the inside. The only bad thing was that the other girls wanted to go to another club, and your social battery was just about gone.
You three stumbled out of the club, Yukio and you giggled at something Ellie had yelled at some perv leering at you when youâd walked out. Stopping the other two from turning the opposite way to another club, you spoke rather loudly despite being out of the crowd and loud music.
âI-I think Iâm gonna go home! You girls go!â you told them, making Yukio frown.
âDonât walk home by yourself, call Wade or something,â Ellie commented.
You nodded thoughtfully before gasping, âIâll call Logan, Wade is doing butt stuff with Vanessa tonight!â.
Your loud comment sent Yukio into a giggling fit and made a guy near you wince, maybe heâd done butt stuff too.
Ellie only nodded, rolling her eyes as you pulled your phone from your purse, scrolling through the very few numbers youâd had, Wade had gotten both you and Logan phones soon after arriving, claiming he needed to be able to send you both funny videos every day. Which were no doubt ignored by Logan.
Pressing on Loganâs contact, you put the phone up to your ear, listening to it ring only once before the call was answered.
âYou alright?â, was the first thing out of Loganâs mouth and you couldnât help but laugh.
âOh, Iâm great!â you replied, âbut Ellie doesnât want me walking home alone and Wade is doing butt stuff so will you come? Iâm only a few blocks from home.â
The whole sentence was sort of rushed and you thought maybe Logan hadnât heard you correctly because the line went silent.
You were about to repeat yourself when Logan stopped you, âIâm coming,â he told you, you could hear him shuffling around and the sound of a door closing, âWhatâs the name?â.
Despite having been in the club for well over an hour you had to look up and squint at then brightly lit sign, âUhhhh,â you mumbled into to the phone, before your eyes finally focused, âHouse of Yes!â.
You couldâve sworn Logan chuckled, âBe there soon,â was all he said before hanging up.
âEscort secured,â you told the two girls, slipping your phone back into your purse. âHeâll be here soon,â you added, attempting to replicate his gravely tone, only succeeding in making yourself cough and sending Yukio into a laughing fit.
It was only 15 minutes of standing around before Logan showed up, you spotted him first, having turned yourself that way to look for him. He was dressed in his usual jeans, button up, and undershirt, along with a leather jacket heâd picked up recently.
He looked good you had to admit, nearly every girl outside, and even some guys turned to look at him when he walked past. He didnât give them any sort of acknowledgement though, earning some disappointed looks from a few of them when he walked up to you.
What was it Wade said about beer goggles? Logan was hot without alcohol though, so you shook off the thought.
âReady to go?â, he asked, eyes scanning over you, not to be a perv but to make sure everything was the same as when you left, and it was, save for the way you swayed slightly and the way you smiled at him like you were so happy to see him. He thought heâd never see that again, but he has to remind himself for what felt like that hundredth time that it wasnât you, not his you at least.
You nodded, turning around to hug both of the girls, telling them to be safe, although you knew Ellie wouldnât put up with anyoneâs shit.
âBye Y/N! Bye Logan!â, Yukio exclaimed, waving at you both before grabbing Ellieâs hand as they turned the opposite way.
âAlright, come on,â Logan said, taking a step away from you and waiting for you to follow him to keep walking, he made sure to keep you closest to the buildings, it wouldnât be too great to have you fall in the street in front of a car.
It was silent for a couple minutes, you stumbled every so often and Loganâs hand always shot out, ready to catch you, but you always righted yourself, giggling as you did, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound.
You caught him smiling after a couple times, narrowing your eyes, âWhatâre you smiling at grumpy?â, you asked, voice anything but angry.
âGrumpy?â, he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
âYeah, itâs what I call you sometimes in my head, Mr. Grumpy is also a good one,â you told him in a very serious tone.
âMr. Grumpy,â Logan found himself repeating, only making you laugh, which made you stumble, nearly knocking into someone walking the opposite way of you both. Logan instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the almost collision and into his side.
You immediately noticed he was warm, you could feel it even with his multiple layers on, it was growing colder now outside as the days went on and you yourself knew without the alcohol, youâd probably be cold but here he was, a personal heater.
âAre you actually just a werewolf?â you asked him, making him stop walking completely and turn towards you, removing his arm from your shoulders, making you pout a bit.
âI am not a werewolf,â he told you seriously.
You groaned, âOkay but youâre really warm, you have claws, you can run on all fours, and youâve got those littleâŚ,â you trailed off, putting your pointer fingers up on each side of your head, attempting to mimic the little swishes his hair made.
Personally, you had no idea if his hair just did that (because heâs a werewolf), or if he styled it that way. You couldnât decide which option to like more.
When Logan didnât seem to understand what youâd said, you reached up, lightly running a finger along one of the swoops of his hair. You jumped a bit when his hand caught your wrist as you were pulling your hand back.
There was a look in his eyes you didnât recognize but it soon disappeared as he let you go, âSorry,â he quickly said. âReflex.â
You shrugged, âNo harm done,â you told him, and his eyes softened at the way you brushed off his behavior from years of enduring nothing even remotely close to the gentle way youâd just touched him.
Maybe you didnât think so badly of him. You always seemed so wary, afraid to make him angry, to say something wrong, like he was a ticking time bomb. It put him on edge and made him want to steer clear of you, he didnât want to scare you off either. But now, standing there staring at you while you just smiled at him made him relax a bit.
âLetâs go,â you suddenly said, beginning to walk away from him. He was back at your side in moments, and you found yourself bumping into him every so often, apologizing every time you did.
Finally, he wrapped an arm around you again, pulling you back into the warmth of his side. You smiled when he did, stumbling slightly but he held you up easily, not letting you fall.
âThanks for coming to get me,â you told him when you were only a block from home.
âNo problem,â he replied, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk ahead.
There were a few moments of silence before you began to giggle suddenly, Loganâs brow furrowed as he looked down at you, âWhat?â he asked, hopefully not regretting asking.
âSo, youâre not a werewolf?â you asked, looking up at him.
Logan groaned looking away from you, âNo, and if you keep asking, youâll regret it.â
âOoo what are you gonna do?â you mocked, poking his side.
âWouldnât you like to know sweetheart,â he replied, making you stumble at the nickname.
âI would,â you challenged, after righting yourself with the help of Loganâs arm around you.
Logan regarded you for a moment before shaking his head, âYouâre drunk, another time.â
âUghhhhh,â you groaned, âTell me!â.
âNot a chance,â Logan replied, smirking a bit. Heâd been drinking since you left and was buzzed himself, he couldnât help but smile at your behavior.
The you heâd known had always acted like this, at least when intoxicated. You were whiny, clumsy, and clingy. The way your fingers gripped the back of his jacket to stay up right made his heart ache though and his smile fell.
You noticed his attitude change and became concerned, âYou okay?â you asked, attempting to stop walking, but Logan kept you going.
âFineâ he replied, his hold on you loosening slightly, you couldnât help but notice.
So, you stopped, much to Loganâs dismay, moving to stand in front of him, swaying slightly as you very determinedly looked him in the eye.
âWhatâs wrong, did I do something?â you asked, genuine concern in your voice, he could almost feel his heart crack just slightly.
âNo, itâsâŚ,â Logan began, his tongue getting tied, he was never great at emotions, thatâs why he drank so much. You didnât have to feel anything then.
âIâm listening,â you reassured, resisting the urge to take his hand.
âYouâre so much likeâŚlike her, like you,â Logan finally said, not really meeting your eye. âI thought I could ignore it, but I canât, you even smell the same.â
Logan had rendered you with nothing to say, could you truly comfort him? Reassure him? You felt yourself sobering up a bit at the thought.
It was a few moments of silence before you found your words, âI know this has been shitty for you too, and I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend. Honestly sometimes I think you hate the fact that I'm not her, me her, whatever...that you hate me. But then you do things like this and it makes me think otherwise. I guess I just don't know how to...approach you, Logan."
Logan felt his heart drop at the word âfriendâ, and the thought he made you feel inadequate. God he really was stupid enough to think he might have a chance with this version of you.
But he found himself lifting a hand to your cheek, feeling your skin heat up beneath his fingers, âI could never hate you, not in this universe, not in any, got it? Its my fault, for pushing that onto you, making you feel like you have to be someone youâre not.â
You couldnât help but laugh slightly, âWeâre both just fucked up in our own special way, arenât we?â.
Logan nodded, dropping his hand, but you caught it in your own, âItâs not your fault either you know, I personally blame whatever bitchass overlord of the universe did this.â
Logan had to keep himself from solely focusing on the way your hand wrapped around his, âButâŚ,â he went to argue.
You put up a hand to stop him, âEnough with the self-pity Howlett, its unbecoming of a man of your nature.â
âMy nature?â Logan asked, titling his head at you.
âYes, the nature of being absurdly attractive,â you admitted, looking away from him as you spoke, attempting to walk away, but he pulled you back, almost into his chest, but he kept you a few inches away, still concerned with scaring you.
âAbsurdly?â Logan asked, the smirk returning to his face.
You swallowed hard, âDid I say that? I meant unappealing, completely unsightly.â
Your attempt at saving your future sober self from your drunk self was failing miserably, but Logan gave in after a few seconds, shrugging as he turned, placing his arm around you once more, guiding you towards the apartment building you could finally see in the distance.
âWhatever you say kid,â he told you.
This was the most at home you two had felt in a while, and when you sat next to each other at breakfast in the morning, Logan passing you whatever you needed when youâd asked, Wade gasped dramatically.
âDid you two also engage in butt stuff last night, or is that not your cup of whiskey Wolvie?â Wade asked.
This earned him a fork to the forehead, easily tossed across the table by Logan.
The way you laughed made Loganâs heart skip a beat instead of crack again. For the first time in quite a while he felt hope, and if being here with you meant putting up with Wadeâs dumbass mouth, he could make an exception just this once.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I felt like Tumblr was seriously lacking in Logan fluff so here ya go!
#logan howlett#james logan howlett#deadpool#wade wilson#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett x reader#xmen#logan howlett x you#logan howlett fanfiction#hugh jackman#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett fluff
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What do you mean he's not eldritch?
What if all of the members of the Bat Family other than Tim Drake were secretly eldritch abominations?
They all work very hard at pretending to be human, and they've even gotten pretty good at passing. They can even mostly avoid the uncanny valley when in their civilian identities. There was a heck of a learning curve, but they've gotten things figured out for the most part.
Enter: Tim Drake
Weird, poorly socialized, probably autistic Tim Drake
The Bats think they've encountered a fellow eldritch being in disguise, and one that seems like he could use some help blending in. Naturally, they're quick to welcome him into their fold. Jason is delighted to take his turn at being a big brother mentor.
It takes a comedically long time for anyone to realize something's up because there is an absurd amount of overlap between stuff you need to know for masking and stuff you need to know to pass as human.
Meanwhile, Tim is amazed that the Bats have apparently decided he's cool enough to hang out with. It's like something out of his daydreams. They even have good advice for him on problems he hadn't known how to ask about. They are so patient and understanding about it, too. They never get annoyed with him for not already knowing. They also seem to be okay with the bits of weirdness he can't change.
Just weird kid Tim getting bundled into an incredibly helpful and supportive found family of eldritch entities. They're all going to get a good grade in human-ing, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve.
...
I imagine the Bats are various different kinds of eldritch abominations because they're still adopted. They look wildly different when not in human form.
Bruce is a mass of... shadows? Smoke? Something dark and formless that shifts and flows in different ways depending on his mood.
Dick kind of looks like a pile of owls that is also somehow a single body.
Barbara is a spiral galaxy with stars that are also eyes somehow?
Jason is a solid-looking mass of muscle with six strong legs, a thick coat of shaggy hair, a mouth that opens much further along his body than it seems like it should, and even more teeth than you'd expect a mouth that size to have.
Stephanie Brown is kind of like an incredibly dense storm system with purple glitter.
Cassandra is a silhouette through which undiscovered nebulae can be seen. What she is a silhouette of depends on her mood.
Tim, they have only ever seen in his meticulously well-crafted human form. He's really good at that part even if he needed some help with the behavioral bits.
Damian is half human. Talia saw a mass of living darkness trying really hard to pretend to be a man and decided she was into that.
...
Dick: So, eye contact is actually pretty simple once you have the formula figured out. You need to cycle between looking at the other person and looking at something else at the appropriate frequency. If you look at them too much it will come across as staring. If you look away for too long they'll think you're not paying attention to them. You'll need to experiment to figure out the appropriate frequency.
Tim: *frets*
Jason: You don't have to look straight at their eyes, just in the general direction of their face.
Tim: Oh! I can do that!
...
I think Eldritch Bruce having history with the league of assassins in a markedly less inentional way than Canon would be funny. Like, you'd think an encounter between an eldritch abomination and a cult would be deliberate on someone's part, but no.
Bruce was still young and unskilled at differentiating between normal and abnormal human behavior.
#dc#batman#batfam#found family#tim drake#jason todd#dick grayson#stephanie brown#eldritch au#Eldritch Jason Todd#Eldritch Dick Grayson#Eldritch Stephanie Brown#Eldritch Barbara Gordon#Eldritch Damian Al Ghul#Eldritch Bruce Wayne#Eldritch batfamily#what do you mean he's not eldritch au
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If I could inject just a little positivity to the news...
Season 2 has a lot of filler and stretches out a pretty simple mystery to six episodes. That's the appeal to some, I get it. But tightness and focus was not its strong suit. I remember feeling like it wasted a ton of time on side characters and it's possible shaving the story down to 90 minutes will skim things down to its most essential beats and be stronger for it. Basically, S2 got a lot of time given to it, and this is obviously my personal opinion but I don't think it used all of it well. I think S2 itself could have been half the length simply by employing more efficient storytelling and we'd not mourn too much.
A lot of S2's weaker plotlines feel built around people that Neil wanted to work with again, with so many recurring actors (I'm thinking of the zombies specifically, when that minisode could have easily been tighter without them). A lot of s2 to me feels like Neil just making work for the people he likes and wants to work with and a movie has to be more accountable to things like that.
Lots of entire fandoms exist around single movies. 90 minutes is not nothing. It's enough for many, many films to tell a complete story with cute character interactions and satisfying emotional arcs, especially when A&C are the only real significant connecting threads between both seasons thus far.
I don't think there are as many loose threads that absolutely need resolving as people may be thinking. Would I like to know why Aziraphale did the '40s apology dance? Would I like to see his bookshop gun? Sure. Are either of those necessarily essential to closing out the story? I don't think so. Really, what needs resolving is the second coming and, directly connected to that, Aziraphale and Crowley's rift. To me, not knowing the story obviously, that seems super reasonable to do in 90 minutes?
I don't think anyone involved in the final season can possibly be blind to the appeal of the show being Aziraphale and Crowley over anything else. That's certainly the reason why their roles were expanded to begin with from the book and why the second season was, nominally, all about them. They also now have to pay MS and DT for appearing in a movie rather than an ensemble show, there's no way they won't be front and center. Amazon wants a show that will make money and market itself; there's a reason why all the promo material for S2 was of Crowley and Aziraphale, because people engage with that stuff, reblog it, make art that promotes the show, etc. It makes no artistic or financial sense to make a movie that sidelines them.
GO is at its best when it has Terry's voice most strongly in it. That's why to me, S2 was a weaker, more meandering season overall (that, and I think the minisodes, while fun, just make the season feel comprised of different voices not always working in tandem towards a common goal). If I was a writer hired to condense a season into a film, and one of the authors had been rightfully disgraced, I would go out of my way to ensure the clearly Terry stuff is most significantly emphasized. It's telling to me that the Pratchett estate is producing and it's possible that the end result will result in more Terry, less Neil.
Think of it this way: everything we've gotten after S1 has always been extra. Imagine telling a fan of the book in the 90s that not only will you get a six episode adaptation, you also get a totally new second season, AND a movie?
Basically: I know this is disappointing but I think a lot of the pleasure of the Good Omens fandom was ALWAYS people picking up on and expanding on details, and y'all managed to do that just fine when A&C were only ensemble members in S1. You can and will do that with a movie too. And this solution both a) ensures first and foremost that Neil won't be involved or the allegations swept under the rug, and b) gives an opportunity for the heart of the story to be emphasized with greater focus, clarity and less filler.
Will we lose good stuff? Probably. But it's also possible we will get a tighter, more condensed, focused version of the best bits, the Terry Pratchett-est bits. I can easily see a 90 minute movie that, knowing they HAVE to focus on the important stuff now, is more Crowley and Aziraphale centric than ever.
#good omens#don't despair guys#i'm not quite as 'in' this fandom as others but perhaps that helps me see the hope in this outcome#of course it makes sense to be sad#but don't despair--it may even end up better for being scrubbed of neil's influence#or at least satisfying#my point is that more isn't always necessarily better
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HIT ME UP â uchinaga aeri
aeriâs never had much luck with love. countless blind dates, dating apps, mutual friends, nothing came out of those. but wait, who is that girl in her best friendâs instagram and why is she so pretty?
tags fluff, no angst, non-idol au, open your eyes to see jiminjeong, mutual pining (for literally a sec), cursing, aeri pov centric
wordcount 6.0k
đď¸ authorâs note: happy aeri day! lots of love to our favourite hot girl gigi đ¤ canât express how much i love aeri and her contribution to aespa as a member >< i hope that everyone enjoys reading this fic and for aeri to enjoy her birthday!
uchinaga aeri, half-japanese and half-korean, age twenty three, has never dated anyone before in her life. well, not officially. she doesnât really count the situationships or talking stages sheâs had. aeri would say that the lack of love in her life would be due to her bougie choices in character. her taste is just a little more refined, detailed, specialised, whatever you want to call it. jimin calls it picky while yizhuo applauds her for knowing what she wants in a partner.
something that definitely attracted her would be a strong personality, a little bold and courageous but also sweet and caring. isnât that a nice criteria to have? aeri doesnât think sheâs asking for much here. yet, her simple standards seem a reach too far compared to the personalities sheâs met lately. even jimin canât help but wince at the blind dates aeri has gone on.
because aeri loves everyone, as long as theyâre pretty, sheâs been on dates with many, regardless of gender. and well, she canât really say that one outweighs the other. this one guy she met at the gym had told her she needed more tips on weightlifting and had gone into a rant about protein shakes.
needless to say, as much as she loves the gym, aeri could not really stand an hour long conversation about protein shakes of all things.
and that girl who seemed way more interested in the oat milk in aeriâs latte than her. that was a strange date. aeri scrunches her nose in distaste at the reminder. another date sheâd been on, helpfully supplied by yizhuo, the girl was gorgeous and incredibly sweet. but the moment aeri had said she was a scorpio, her date started acting like aeri killed her dog. which, by the way, she never would. she loves dogs and even has two cute ones herself! and then her date had the nerve to storm out of the restaurant too. what a shitshow.
(âoh⌠maybe i shouldnât be friends with her either,â yizhuo comments after aeri recites the incident to her.
âdo you think sheâll burst into flames if you tell her youâre a scorpio as well?â jimin asks, so genuinely that aeri almost chokes to death while laughing.)
anyway, so what if aeriâs luck with dating is trash? her life has been fine for twenty three years and itâs not like having a partner will drastically change her for the good. sheâs been enjoying this single life. she never has to update anyone about her whereabouts, she doesnât have to reply to texts immediately, everything she buys is for herself. what a wonderful life. some call it miserable, others call it unhealthy. she calls it being free.
okay, maybe it is a little sad coming home to an empty apartment with no one to greet her. aeri does feel envious when her friends meet up and they talk about their own significant others. but that envy isnât enough for her to throw herself down into that torturous rabbit hole of dating again. if only she had a friend that she could fall in love with or something. like a cute friends to lovers situation. or if she tripped and fell over the love of her life. the stars aligned, âweâre soulmatesâ type.
not to mention that ever since moving back to korea from the states, her parents have been pressuring her to find someone. while korea and japan arenât aeons apart, aeri doesnât really have the comfort of family. her friends do offer some semblance of home but it just doesnât feel the same. after confiding in her mother, aeri was told that a partner would fill in the gap her parents left.
sheâs getting a little delirious and the idea of falling in love has become more of a chore than blessing. aeri slumps against her bedframe, scowling at her phone blowing up. if she were still on a dating app, the notifications could be due to matches or dates that were too clingy. but sheâs sworn off dating apps for good and that chain of messages could only be sent by yu jimin.
jimin [6.19pm]:
omg guys
i think i just met the loml
holy shit shes so cute
im in love
can sm1 find her @
yizhuo [6.20pm]:
who
jimin [6.20pm]:
uhmmmmm
minjeong?
her cup says that
yizhuo [6.20pm]:
are you serious đ
jimin [6.21pm]:
STOP SHES LOOKING AT ME
AAAAAAA
aeri [6.22pm]:
girl shut up
she throws her phone aside as jiminâs cries for help go unanswered. jimin breaking down would be cute if aeri wasnât going through an existential crisis right now. the thought of never finding someone truly for her looms over her head. her whole âi donât need a manâ (or woman) persona crumbles instantly the moment she reaches her bedroom. the facade falls immediately, only leaving behind a lonely girl who just has bad luck.
jimin continues to flounder around and seemingly the pings stop (aeri lets out a sigh of relief), before they come back in full force in the form of a video call.
aeri reaches for her phone and waits a few seconds just to torture jimin before picking up.
âuhm, hello?â
âoh my goodnessâ what is wrong with you two? have you not read my messages!â jimin whispers harshly. a grainy, pixelated version of her friend appears on screen. the only recognisable feature of jimin is her pale, glowy skin shining in the moonlight as her dark hair wisps around behind her.
staring blankly, aeri repeats, âhello?â
âhi, yes! okay, so i just met this girl andââ
yizhuoâs voice cuts through, âdoes it really count as meeting her though?â
aeri sees jimin rolling her eyes before she reluctantly pouts, âno, but thatâs not the point. the point is that sheâs really cute, like marriage-worthy cute. and i need her instagram now.â
âyou think we can find it?â yizhuo asks, unamused.
âwell, she was wearing our old high school jacket and you guys know a lot of people!â jiminâs logic, sometimes flawed, did make sense to aeri this time. she and yizhuo were like social butterflies back in high school and jiminâs assumption would be right.
âwhat was her name again?â aeri asks, just to get jimin to shut up. for a girl that was so elegant and graceful, jimin really was a loser sometimes. it was difficult at first to adjust from the girl crush jimin to the loser jimin but after being friends for so long, aeri has learnt to accept both sides of her personality.
jimin perks up, her forehead gleaming on the screen, âminjeong! isnât it such a cute name? cute name for a cute girl⌠heh. she looked like a puppy too, like a tint maltese. she has short blonde hair too. almost shoulder length?â
aeri isnât too sure on how the description of her looking like a maltese helps in their investigation but whatever floats jiminâs boat, she guesses. she watches as yizhuo disappears from the frame and jimin walks home, humming to herself.
a few minutes later, while she and jimin are discussing new hair colours, yizhuo pops back into frame, exclaiming with glee, âi found her!â
and aeri can only watch as jimin trips over air, almost in slow motion, and face plants into the ground.
âcâmon, ningie! please!â aeri widens her eyes while jimin almost gets on her knees, her hands pleading. who knew jimin would get so desperate for some girlâs instagram? definitely not aeri.
yizhuo only huffs, âi want something in return.â
âanything! really!â the older girl is so close to downright begging that aeri considers stepping in for a second before yizhuo inevitably reads out loud, âmj underscore zero one zero one and i want free lunch for the rest of the week. aeri unnie included.â
aeri grins brightly as jimin scrambles to type the username into her search bar. she fist bumps yizhuo, smiling at the thought of free food.
âoh my gosh, thank you!â jimin squeals, planting a wet kiss on yizhuoâs cheek.
âhowâd you find her instagram?â aeri asks curiously. yizhuo shrugs, wiping the lipstick mark left behind coolly, âmy friend follows her. asked around for a bit and now people think she owes me money or something.â
aeri stifles a giggle at that and turns her attention back to jimin, whoâs still staring at her phone in awe. her fingers are fervently scrolling and swiping, tapping away on the screen. jiminâs devotion to find this mystery girlâs instagram is insane and it brings out the slightest bit of curiosity in aeri.
hence, she peeks over jiminâs shoulder and for her lacklustre description of minjeong, itâs well-fitting, surprisingly.
âshe does look like a maltese,â are aeriâs first words. jimin swerves her head back, smiling widely, âi know right!â
âoh, sheâs really cute,â aeri notes. minjeong is pretty, like a doll. jimin sends her a withering glare but she just ignores it. the girl is pretty, but not her type. and she definitely isnât planning on competing in some competition for minjeongâs love alongside her own best friend.
âsheâs friends with a lot of unnies,â yizhuo says, listing them off her fingers, ânayeon unnie, jeongyeon unnie, momo unnieâ well, that whole friend group. jennie unnie too. and you know mijoo unnie? sheâs friends with her too.â
jimin visibly deflates while aeri tries to cheer her up, âbut theyâre all friends only though, right?â
yizhuo nods, âyup, i havenât heard of minjeong ever dating anyone either.â
her comment resonates with aeri and a small part of her commends minjeong for not succumbing to the horrors of dating.
with aeriâs words of encouragement, jimin continues to scroll, albeit slower now and not as enthusiastic. she eventually reaches the end of all of minjeongâs posts and hastily scrolls back up.
âcheck her highlights too,â aeri demands, terribly invested. jimin follows suit, clicking on the first story highlight. itâs full of food that has aeri salivating and jimin swallowing her saliva. yizhuo only watches on, uninterested.
then, jimin clicks on one thatâs named âsolosâ and aeri hears her choke up. the highlight is filled with selfies and photos of minjeong. all very cute and adorable. she internally rolls her eyes and begs jimin to hurry through the stories instead of staring intently at each one. minjeongâs feed is nice, aeri thinks. itâs clean and simple but it still shows enough of her personality.
when jimin finally swipes to the last highlight, aeriâs jaw visibly drops.
âoh my god,â she gapes, snatching jiminâs phone away into her own hands, âwho is that?â
âhey! give it back!â
âstop it!â aeri swats jiminâs hand away and with miraculous strength, evades all of her reaches and manages to zoom into the story. minjeong, her face propped up by her palm, and next to her, aeri believes is aphrodite reincarnated. bright doe eyes, pouty lipsâ oh, aeri might be in love.
she was about to discover if it was possible to lose her voice solely from screaming inside her head.
âoh shit, do you think thatâs her girlfriend?â jimin gasps as soon as she sees the story as well and the fight for her phone goes forgotten. they both stare in bewilderment at the photo.
yizhuo eventually pries their fingers off jiminâs phone, sneering, âclose your mouth, both of you. sheâs y/n.â
aeri jumps into action at her words, âyou know this girl? who is she? whatâs her name?â
âcalm down, damn.â
âsorryâ this is the literal love of my life?â
jimin frowns, âthatâs what i said about minjeong and you called me deluded.â
ignoring jimin.
âi donât know her, i know of her,â yizhuo rolls her eyes again. aeri purses her lips at the brattiness of the youngest. since when was their baby so sassy? maybe jimin was too irritating. aeri would understand if that were the case.
âjust stalk her account. minjeong definitely tagged her somewhere or sheâs in the comments,â jimin suggests.
aeri hollers, âyouâre a genius!â itâs her first time saying that to jimin.
through sheer determination and will (yizhuo calls it stupidity), she manages to find minjeong replying to a certain commenter.
mj_0101 been away
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1eeyn i see how it is.. no creds at all
âł mj_0101 photo creds to my bae
âbae?! jiminâ oh my fucking god!â aeri screeches and thank god theyâre in jiminâs room and not in public. yizhuo has the gall to cover her ears even though aeriâs been on the receiving end of her dolphin shrieks before.
equally distressed, jimin lets out a choked sob, âof course the pretty girls are dating!â
âguys, i just said theyâre only friends.â
âand how do you know that?!â
yizhuo shoots a glare and jimin immediately cowers beside aeri.
âbecause i know them, duh. yâall are stupid. the moment you two see pretty girls itâs like your ability to think disappears.â
well that, aeri canât disagree. her brain had no thoughts when she first saw minjeongâs story. just sunshine and rainbows. maybe the distant chiming of wedding bells. or a white, sparkly dress with a long train.
as she gets lost in her thoughts, jimin pries her fingers away from the phone, detaching them carefully. when aeri frowns at her action, the older one merely shrugs, âstalk her on your own phone.â
begrudgingly, she does so, searching up this mystery girlâs instagram. itâs pretty empty, mostly just pictures of nature and food. sometimes she throws in a selfie that makes aeriâs heart clench.
âfuck,â she groans, feeling her throat choke up, âsheâs so my type.â
jimin nods in agreement even though aeriâs sure she didnât hear a word she said. yizhuo rolls her eyes (how many times has she done that?).
âyou think sheâs into girls?â aeri asks, showing yizhuo a story highlight of some vinyls with clairoâs one right at the front.
âmaybe. i donât know her too well. i heard sheâs kind of scary though, like cold and intimidating. she punched someone for picking on minjeong once.â
aeri lets out a huff, one of sheer amazement. lord knows she needs a woman who can fight.
âaeri-ah,â jimin suddenly calls out from her bed.
âyes?â
she gulps, swallowing harshly, âif you text her, iâll text minjeong.â
yizhuo hums, âyou two do that.â
she mulls it over. texting this pretty girl? whoâs insanely her type? maybe. what if you were an asshole though? sheâs not too sure about whether minjeong would be friends with you if you were mean but she thinks back to your face.
god, she needs you biblically.
âokay, letâs get girlfriends!â
she doesnât text you at all. itâs a little embarrassing to admit but aeriâs scared! what if she just gets ignored? she couldnât get her ego bruised like that. and jiminâs no help either! constantly texting her to dm you first even though aeri knows that jimin stares at the empty private chat with minjeong every night.
what she does do is first of all, create another account thatâs completely blank, void of any recognition for aeri. then she watches your stories. on repeat. and on one uneventful tuesday, your profile lights up with a ring around it. aeri canât help herself from viewing it immediately.
and maybe she shouldnât have, since sheâs seething by the time yizhuo texts her.
yizhuo [1.43pm]:
hey guysâŚ
has any1 seen y/nâs story?
jimin [1.44pm]:
minjeongâs account is burned into my screen
but no âşď¸
aeri [1.44pm]:
iâm gonna kill myself
jimin [1.46pm]:
đ¨âď¸
she almost actually throws her phone this time. aeri wants to die. she wants to puke.
what the actual fuck.
her phone ringsâ she picks up on the first ring.
âsoâŚâ yizhuo starts awkwardly.
âwhatâs going on?! aeri, donât kill yourself?! youâre my best friend and i might also die without you! i love you, aeriââ
aeri cries out, âshe has a girlfriend!â
the other side of the phone goes eerily quiet before jiminâs forehead pops up on screen and her eyebrows are nearly touching her hairline.
âWHAT?!â
âshe just posted a photo of her kissing some girlâs cheek!â aeri screeches.
yizhuo winces before adding unhelpfully, âher girlfriendâs pretty though.â
ânot the pointâ also yeah, agreed. but still! what am i gonna do now?!â
jimin frowns, âyou can still be friends with her, right?â
âwell⌠i was going to try to hit her up first,â aeri pouts, feeling devastated. she hadnât even gotten a chance to woo you, and no way was she going to get in the way of a happy relationship! aeri was many things, but she wasnât a homewrecker.
âmaybe you can salvage a friendship out of this,â yizhuo suggests thoughtfully. aeri nods. maybe she should at least try to be friends rather than pursue a romantic relationship. she needed to expand her social circle anyway from just jimin and yizhuo.
âjimin, this means you have to text minjeong now.â
âwhat?! iâm not ready!â
âitâs just a text! like her story or something!â
jimin stares at her through the screen, affronted. aeri connects the dots quickly enough, âwait, donât tell me you have been liking all her stories?â
âokay, maybe i have! thatâs not a crime. and she liked one of my stories back! the one i posted when we went to eat hotpot! iâm way farther in this than you areââ
aeri hangs up. she canât deal with a gloating jimin right now.
she needs a clear mind. she needs to think about her next course of action. all that was occupying her mind during the past few days was a wedding with you, but now aeri has a few adjustments to make.
swiping back to your story, aeri frowns. she clicks to the previous one. itâs a photo of you playing with a dog, an adorable samoyed. the background has a few other dogs, so you were probably at a dog cafe.
with your girlfriend, aeri sighs.
she types out, âomg where is this?â it feels friendly and innocent enough. and aeri totally knows which dog cafe youâre at. itâs a rather popular one that she has visited herself.
before aeri can even think again, she sends the message.
god, she should really stop letting jimin get to her head.
within seconds, thereâs a reply that makes aeriâs heart soar.
[aerichandesu] 1eeyn
itâs winters village in hongdae!
youâre really pretty btw
score! aeriâs got this in the bag!
she enters the chat and replies with a speed that makes the flash quiver.
aerichandesu [2.10pm]:
omg thankuu đ
youâre super cute too
you donât reply but aeri spots the tiny green circle next to your name. youâre online. but why arenât you replying? was there nothing to reply to? aeri feels her heart sink a little lower. the chat doesnât pop up with another message and aeri throws her phone aside.
she canât let a girl plague her mind! aeriâs better than this! puffing her chest out, aeri gathers all the grit and willpower she has in herself and leaves the app.
aeri continues this pattern for the next few days; every time you posted a story, she would slide up. it only started to feel a bit one-sided when you started replying with short and curt responses. maybe you got weirded out by aeri, and she wouldnât even blame you. sometimes she would send messages at midnight and wake up in the morning, cursing the vulnerability she had previously. she would read back at the chat, cringing at her overeager attitude. even jimin called her out on it! and if even jimin found it weird, aeri must have seemed absolutely psychotic.
âgirl, i think you have to stop,â yizhuo says one day.
âstop with what?â aeri asks but she knows damn well what yizhuoâs talking about. jiminâs head perks up, her cheeks stuffed with ramen that aeri so graciously cooked for her when the older had complained about her hunger.
after swallowing, jimin giggles, âyour little thing with your girl.â
âuhm, what?â
âi think youâre creeping her out,â yizhuo shakes her head, âif i had this stranger, no matter how cute they are, constantly texting me first, i would be a little scared.â
aeri pouts, feeling admonished, âi havenât texted her in two days. she isnât interested.â
âoh thank goodness,â the chinese girl sighs in relief, âi thought you went all joe goldberg on her.â
âiâm not joe! and i would never do that to someone!â
âwell, i was worried anyway.â
jimin nudges her shoulder, âthereâs a lot of fish in the ocean, right?â
rolling her eyes, aeri pinches at jiminâs side, âimagine if i said that about minjeong.â
âwhy would you ever say that about minjeong?â jimin furrows her brows, âand i actually texted her.â
aeri shoots up, the thought of her disastrous love life long forgotten as jimin reveals this new information.
âyou did?! holy shit, congrats dude!â
jimin looks away, sheepish, âi replied to her story and she said that she remembers me from school. i donât know how i missed seeing someone like her around. she said she really likes bowling, so iâm thinking of bringing her to bowl.â
genuinely happy for her friend, aeri pats her on the back while yizhuo gives a pleased nod. aeri kind of wishes her endeavour with you could go this smoothly. she certainly doesnât remember you from school, nor does it seem you remember her. maybe you just werenât in the same classes.
âguess itâs just me now, huh?â aeri laughs, despite the slight embarrassment she feels from being ignored.
jimin pouts, âyouâll find someone better.â
aeri thinks of the way her heart flutters when you reply or post something new, and she thinks that sheâs never felt this strongly attracted to someone before without even knowing them.
yeah, she doesnât think she will.
aeriâs totally fine. sheâs gone two weeks without even glancing at your profile and sheâs okay. there were some withdrawal symptoms at first, like the increasing urge to reply to your story or like it, but aeriâs determination outweighs her adoration. thus, she lives life without ever thinking about you again.
(that was a lie. she still wonders about it at night.)
yizhuo had applauded her âgetting overâ you and so had jimin, who was barely online nowadays because she was hanging out with minjeong. aeriâs glad her best friend has found someone she likes. and sheâs over the moon that jimin has found a new victim for her teasing. apparently, minjeong had better reactions, so yizhuo and aeri cheered knowing minjeong would suffer now.
jimin had been bugging them to finally meet minjeong and hang out as a group for the longest time. aeri doesnât know if she actually brought her to that bowling date but the restaurant they picked out is expensive and jiminâs paying. so naturally, she agrees instantly.
what jimin doesnât say is that minjeong would be bringing someone along.
coincidentally, you.
hence, aeriâs sitting right across from you, not daring to lift her head up in fear that she might make eye contact. after acting so desperate in your dms, aeri would rather die than face you directly.
you stare at her bizarrely as minjeong introduces you to jiminâs friends.
âthis is yizhuo and aeri, we all went to the same high school together,â minjeong informs you, âbut i donât think we ever crossed paths before.â
âno, we havenât,â you confirm. aeri glances at you meekly before darting her gaze to the menu.
ânice to meet you, y/n,â yizhuo smiles sweetly, making up for the silence that aeri provided. youâre still a little confused as to why aeri wasnât talking right now.
maybe she thinks you donât recognise her? but you do. sheâs the pretty girl that randomly popped up one day and started replying to your stories.
ânice to meet you too,â you grin, ânice to see you in person as well, aeri-ssi.â
you watch, surprised, as aeri barely acknowledges your words, only nodding slightly. wasnât she quite bold online? why was she acting like this now?
âshall we order?â jimin asks, snapping the menu shut. after calling over the waiter, you shift your eyes back to aeri, staring appreciatively at her outfit. one thing you noticed from her instagram feed was that she dressed well. you wanted to ask her where she shops but she seemed a second away from exploding.
you whip out your phone, earning a flinch from aeri.
y/n bae [7.24pm]:
is smth wrong w aeri?
mindoongie [7.24pm]:
uhmm idk đ
idt sheâs usually like this
jiminie said sheâs quite sociable
awesome. so that meant you were the problem.
resting your head on your palm, you turn your attention to yizhuo, asking, ���what are you currently studying?â
âoh, iâm doing fashion design,â she answers, twirling the knife.
âthatâs interesting. could you ever design something for me one day?â
yizhuo chuckles, âiâll cast you as my model if i get big. what about you?â
âiâll definitely pursue something in modelling but iâm studying medicine right now.â
engrossed in your conversation, you barely notice aeriâs pout. the girl seemed a little too timid and shy as to what youâve seen online. and minjeong and jimin seemed to be talking about something else.
ây/n, are you dating anyone right now?â yizhuo asks suddenly. you falter, recalling the girl you had just broken up with a few days ago, âah, no. not currently.â
in your haste to recover, you miss the nudge yizhuo gives go aeri.
spurred on, aeri asks, âdo you have time to date while studying?â
âhm, it was manageable,â you reply, âit got tiring when she needed a lot of my time though.â
aeri stares at you wistfully before coughing.
you wonder why she asked that.
[aerichandesu] 1eeyn
hi, can u help me say thanku to jimin?
for taking care of my best friend
aeri blinks at the message. itâs the first time youâve texted her first.
aerichandesu [10.43pm]:
sure
she still feels awkward for acting so desperate previously. it doesnât feel right to act like that anymore. and aeri does feel a little bad for how cold she was during dinner.
1eeyn [10.44pm]:
thank u aeri chan
aeri-chan? where did that come from? suddenly, she feels the stutter in her heart resurfacing after she had tried to bury it.
1eeyn [10.45pm]:
we didnât get to talk much, huh?
aerichandesu [10.45pm]:
no sorry
i wasnât feeling well
it feels like the safest lie she can tell.
1eeyn [10.46pm]:
thatâs a shame
are you feeling better now?
aerichandesu [10.46pm]
yes, i am
1eeyn [10.46pm]:
thatâs good
rest well aeri-chan đ
oh my god, aeri needs to text the group chat!
over the next few days, you were relentless with your texts. it felt like you and aeri had swapped roles. she didnât know to adapt to this new side of you without seeming like a bumbling fool. you would send selfies! selfies! asking aeri for her opinion. the first time you sent one, aeriâs nose started bleeding and she scared jimin half to death, thinking aeri was dying.
(âshe sent me a selfie! of her face!â aeri wails, covering her nose with bloody tissues.
jimin grimaces at the blood, âwell, yes. selfies are usually of someoneâs face.â)
then, you would send your outfits, or whatever you ate that day. slowly, aeri started warming up to you too and would begin to send her own photos. normally she would send photos of her dogs or jimin and yizhuo being silly. then they evolved into selfies.
aeri likes what she has with you right now. you were building up a friendship that aeri appreciated. she liked your humour and personality as well, complementing her own rather nicely. minjeong and jimin begin dating as well, making your proximity even closer as the two would constantly drag everyone to hangouts. to be frank, aeri canât believe that this all started because jimin saw a cute girl at a cafe, but somehow, it makes sense too.
how an insignificant moment such as minjeong deciding to buy coffee that day helped aeri gain two new best friends, she would never know. but she liked it. it felt like fate. leaning on your shoulder, aeri shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
âno scary movies please,â jimin begs, tugging at minjeongâs shirt. yizhuo laughs and eggs minjeong on to pick a horror film while aeri stares at her best friends affectionately.
âyou like scary movies?â you whisper to aeri.
she shakes her head, already feeling shivers run down her spine at the thought of being jumpscared countless times. jiminâs reaction would be funny as hell. but no way was she sacrificing her own sanity for something like that. if she wanted jimin to go insane, she had ten other ways to do that.
ânooo not the conjuring please!â
aeri cowers into herself, dreading the night already. this was a weekly occurrence, having a movie night at jiminâs apartment. it started with just the three of them and then minjeong and you got invited soon after. the honour of picking a movie was passed down every week and aeri detests it when itâs minjeongâs turn. that girl would pick scary films just to annoy jimin and aeri always gets caught in the crossfire somehow.
âdonât worry, minjeongie wants to watch despicable me tonight. sheâs just playing with jimin,â you comfort. aeri nods as minjeong hovers exceptionally long on the nun before finally moving to despicable me. jimin cheers in exhilaration and yizhuo boos.
âoh my gosh, babe! i love the minions!â
âminions and despicable me are two different movies!â yizhuo sneers. just as the movie starts, jimin, minjeong and yizhuo begin bickering. aeri knows how the argument will endâ with jimin apologising and minjeong and yizhuo emerging victorious.
a gush of hot air beside her ear makes her jump, âtheyâre cute, arenât they?â
aeri follows your gaze to where jimin and minjeongâs fingers are interwoven even though theyâre arguing.
âyeah, silly but cute.â
you chuckle, slipping your hand into aeriâs under the blanket, âwe canât lose to them, right?â
she gets caught off guard for just a second before bouncing back.
âno, iâll never lose to jimin.â
your laugh makes aeriâs cheeks heat up slightly. as you ramble on about the movie, she listens to every word attentively, wanting to savour the smoothness and richness of your voice. her smaller hand stays tight in your bigger one, feeling the warmth emitting from your palm.
aeriâs heart feels content.
sheâs happy here, being friends with you.
unfortunately (or fortunately), the friendship doesnât last for long.
after that particular movie night, aeri has noticed a change in your behaviour. youâve become touchier, for lack of a better term. more lingering touches around her shoulder, hands, waist, wrists, wherever her skin was. you would gaze into her eyes before smiling shyly and looking away. you would offer to bring her lunch even though she knows youâre busy with your internship. not to mention the influx of messages. if aeri thought your selfies were bad for her heart before, it resembled a tsunami drowning her heart now.
photos, of every kind, most of them in your scrubs and uniform, smiling at the camera gleefully, as if you werenât working an all-nighter. and on your off-days, aeri finds you staying up to talk to her. sheâs busy during the day, so she doesnât really check her phone often. when she finally does, sheâs welcomed by your chat. the once intimidating girl that she admired online had turned into the girl that camped in her dms.
she had asked before, why you would text her so much. your response had been equally confusing, asking her back if she wanted you to stop. of course not. the aeri a few months ago wished for days that you would reply with more than four words. now, it seemed like you constantly had paragraphs of stories to tell her. not that she was complaining.
then, one day, the messages stop. aeriâs a little bewildered when she checks her phone and nothingâs there but she goes to bed anyway. maybe you were working a really long shift? sometimes she would catch you at four in the morning, so perhaps you were catching up on some much needed sleep.
but when she wakes up the next day, thereâs only a lone message asking for her to meet you.
aeri agrees, yet she canât help but wonder about the spontaneous nature of the message. it was sent in the morning, so it seemed like you had been thinking about it all night.
after dressing herself, she left her apartment, nervous but excited at the prospect of seeing you again. the last time you met face to face was over a week ago and aeriâs suffering from y/n drought.
you had requested to meet at lunchtime and when aeri arrives at the restaurant, youâre already there, seated and deep in thought.
âhey,â she greets, âslept well?â
you didnât, but you nod anyway.
âdid you have a shift yesterday?â aeri asks as you order your regulars.
âuhm, no. sorry i didnât text you, i was busy doing something else.â
ânah, itâs fine. i was helping ning with her designs anyway.â
you nod stiffly and aeri reaches out a hand to cover yours, âare you good? you seem a little off.â
âiâm fine!â your voice comes out squeakier than usual but aeri brushes it off.
âso, whatâs up?â she finally asks.
you tap your fingernails on the table, gulping harshly, âi just wanted to talk.â
âmhm, sure.â
âi wanted to know⌠well⌠uhm, if you were still interested in me,â you ask, eyes flickering to aeri hesitantly. aeri gapes at you before stammering, âwh-why? whatâ what do you mean?â
you inhale sharply, âi know you were interested in me at the start, but are you still interested now?â
aeri withdraws her hand, âuh, why?â
furrowing your eyebrows, you grit your teeth, âplease just tell me.â
âuhm. well⌠yes? but whyââ
âbecause iâm interested. and i want to find out if the feelingâs the same,â you blurt out. aeriâs eyes widen considerably and if your heart wasnât racing a mile, you would coo at her cuteness.
âif you were interested before⌠why didnât you say anything?â aeri asks, her voice trailing off at the end. you sigh, pinching your nose bridge, âi was dating someone at the time. it wasnât right for me to encourage someone who liked me that much.â
aeri nods, already feeling guilty for her desperation before.
âiâm sorry for my coldness but i could already tell you were interested in me and as someone who had a girlfriend then, i couldnât message back with the same eagerness,â you explain.
âno, itâs fine. that was a stupid question but uhm, i thought you didnât like me back.â
âwe became friends first, then i started to have feelings for you. as i learnt more about you, i started to like you more.â
aeri feels a little silly with her immediate infatuation. huh. maybe she got her âfriends to loversâ trope after all.
âi hope that now, i can take you on a date?â you ask and how can aeri refuse that? your bright, gleaming, expectant eyes? aeri felt her heart crushed with adoration.
âyes, obviously. youâre my ideal type and everything. you know i had thoughts about our wedding when i first met youââ
âoh, is that why you were so quiet that night?â
âyeah, you just looked really pretty under the lighting and i already started to imagine how you would look like dressed in all white and how our wedding would seem, maybe i would pick yizhuo as my maid of honour and minjeong could be yours but jimin would totally throw a fuss andââ
you smile widely as aeri babbles on, chiming in every once in a while to insert your own thoughts.
when she finally finishes, the expression on your face makes her whole being ascend.
maybe all those useless blind dates with shitty luck amounted to her finding the love of her life.
thank you! aeri would later exclaim to that horoscope-obsessed girl and the gym rat. who knew that those catastrophic dates would finally gift her you, her first girlfriend (and last!).
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wedding ring
origins!husban!logan x origins!wade x wife!reader
a/n : I don't know what came over me to write this, I have no excuse I'm just horny.
wc : 3k
NSFW , PORN WITH (LITTLE) PLOT , WADE IS A HORNY SHIT , MOMMY & DADDY KINK , GENERAL WADE⢠BEHAVIOUR sub!origins!wade wilson . dom!origins!logan . dom!reader
synopsis : wade has always been a kinky little shit, it seems that title is well-deserved when he starts to fantasize about squeezing himself into a married couple old enough to be his parents.
If someone in the team were to ask Wade why he looked as if he hadn't slept in a decade, he'd say he was up practising his katana skills.
When in reality, he had spent the whole night groaning and moaning against his pillow while rubbing himself raw to the thought of you and Logan.
What was so special about you two, you may ask? You were married and were old enough to be his parents.
It was absolutely not his fault. You two had no right to come into the X-Team, looking so fucking hot and expect him not to get hard.
You couldn't just walk around the place with Logan's strong arm around your waist and expect him not to stare. You couldn't just hum in acknolovedgment everytime Logan leant into your ear to rumble something that the merc couldn't quite catch and expect him not to grow desperate.
He was a walking mess. Day and night his thoughts were consumed by you and Logan, Logan and you, and what you could do to him. He couldn't help it, he'd blame the undiagnosed ADHD anyday for titty-flashing him with so many dirty scenarios anytime you walked past.
,,
Logan and you had been through a lot of shit togheter.
You had met sometime between the 1880's and the 1900's, both mutants and escaping from someone who was trying to do you harm. Both with the weight of taken lives over your shoulders, both with spilled blood on your hands. Both with the promise of living far too long.
And, cliche-y enough, you both had fallen in love. After uniting forces as acquintances, then growing as close as long-life friends, and then falling into the claws of love, you two had gotten married.
Happyly married, always attached to the hip, gold wedding wands on your ring fingers. Always watching out for the other.
And when William Stryker offered you both a place in a 'special opperations' team called X-Team, you both agreed âhappy to help a causeâ.
What you didn't expect, though, was Wade Wilson turning into another shit you had to go through togheter.
The mercenary seemed to never know when to shut his mouth, or how to read social cues, he just simply had a mouth too big for his own good. Hence why the nickname merc with a mouth was born amidst the members of the team.
He was a young man in his 20's, a cocky asshole and a total flirt that talked big game. He liked to show off during missions, pulling stunts, to impress Logan or you was another question that didn't have an answer yet.
You and your husband just knew the kid seemed to have the hots for one of you. Which made Logan boil with possesiveness because you were his damn wife, his and his only âpossesiveness that in turn only made Wade all the more horny.
It wasn't until today's mission that you realized that the mercenary didn't have the hots for just one of you, but for both.
After trying to break in a building to stop some drug dealers, the team had split up and âironically enoughâ left you three to flee from more guards than you could fight. And now, ironically enough again, you three were hidding in a really small supply closet.
You hadn't intended for it to end up this way, but your husband was with his broad back against the wall and with a pupil-blown Wade completely sandwiched between you two.
Wade was totally trying to keep his cool, desperately keeping up his usual cocky fachade, but his gut felt so damn coiled at having his ass pressed against Logan's crotch and his chest in level with yours.
"How did they notice us?!?" you asked your husband in a low breath, completely ignoring the merc between you.
Logan growled slightly, his nose twitching when a strangely strong scent wafted into his nostrils, shaking his head slightly as he tried to peek out from the small gap in the door. "dunno, doll, but I guess they didn't see us come here"
As you kept talking with your husband in hushed breaths, Wade was starting to feel his brain turning to damn mush as he was trapped between you two. He couldn't help it, your body warmth was sweeping into his bones from back and front âmelting himâ.
And then, suddenly he heard your voices stopping. Looking up with his half-glassy eyes, he was met by a quirked eyebrow and a deep scowl from Logan.
"are you damn horny right now, mouth?" Logan pretty much growled. His voice rumbling in his chest as he looked down at the young man between you two.
Wade blinked, realizing he had been so aroused âand locked up in his dirty fantasiesâ that he had pretty much started to leak in his pants.
"ohw, c'mon, what'd you expect?" the merc breathed out under your questioning gaze. "I've got my hot ass against someone's big dick and my face is smushed against this massive titties and jesus fucking christâ"
His words died down in a choked way when Logan's hand flied up to his throath, wrapping around it without issue âdamn big hands the Canadian hadâ and squeezing. Choking a wheezed noise out of his mouth.
"shut your damn mouth if ya wanna keep your throath, bub" Logan growled in the merc's ear, his voice almost like the roar of a lion with how much red he was seeing.
You were just staring at the way Wade's eyes seemed to roll into the back of his head, thighs twitching before shamelessly parting âas if he wanted someone's hand between themâ. The mercenary seemed to really be horny for you two.
"really, Wade?" you purred, voice low, as you stared at the young man âletting your husband do the job of shutting him up. "going after a married couple like this? didn't think you'd fall that low.."
Wade struggled to breathe through his nose with Logan's tight grip around his throath, but he spoke nonetheless. "aughnâ you two are fucking god- relax the grip old man literally bisexual culture-"
His gasped words only made the growl bubbling up in Logan's throath grow louder. You saw the veins in your husband's arm bulging as he squeezed around Wade's throath again, watching the way the merc choked on his spit âsaliva slobbering down the corner of his lips.
You reached out your own hand and placed it atop of Logan's, as if methaporically holding your husband's hand while he choked Wade.
"fucking god you two are really feeding my mommy and daddy issues right now y'kno-oh-owwâ"
Wade's spech got cut off my another series of squeezes around his throath, making the mercenary cough and choke on his spit as his head fell forwards against your chest.
"watch your damn mouth, mouth"
"ngh-ah- unluckily for you I've got a thing for being put in my place by dominant, sexy, grown-ups. Big ones with hugeâ"
His voice died in his own throath when two, huge and thick, fingers were proding at his mouth. Sneaking past his lips and stuffing him full, his eyes rolled back, knees almost buckling underneath him when the meaty taste of sweat invaded his mouth.
"shut it, bub"
"hmn-nhgh"
"you managed to shut him up" you low whistled at your husband, impressed by how quickly and efficiently the merc had shut up. Now busy with nibbling at the fingers inside of his mouth.
"easy peasy" Logan huffed with a slight roll of his eyes. "don't know how long it'll last, though, just look at how damn much the kid's leaking"
Wade whined around Logan's fingers at the way you two were speaking as if he wasn't there, thighs trying to close when he felt your eyes going down and settling on the obvious tent in his pants âand the wet spot.
"so horny" you hummed, more to yourself than anything, before looking back at his face. "what does this mean, baby?" you purred as you pointed to the gold ring on your finger with a neutral look on your face âas if he wasn't coming undone before your eyes. "I don't think you're that dumb yet. C'mon, what does this, right here, mean, Wade?"
Wade struggled to swallow the spit pooling in his mouth around Logan's fingers, body almost tumbling forward when the Canadian ripped his fingers off of his mouth so suddenly.
"I- aughn- Iâ" he stumbled over his words, swallowing again, as his hazy eyes looked up at you. "that's a daddy and mommy ring" he wheezed out, a little "ah-ah!" escaping his lips when Logan grabbed his hair from the back âforcing him to behaveâ. "means- angh means that you're married. And old enough to be my grand-parents-"
"That's right, bub" Logan growled, leaning in close to whisper in Wade's ear. "We're a married couple and you're nothing but a pest."
"now, now, darling" you hummed lovingly as you looked at your husband, who was still grabbing Wade by his hair. "don't be so mean.. It turns him on"
That last was a low drawl, before your hand was cuping Wade's cheek and making sure the cold metal of the gold wedding ring you wore was against the merc's skin. "We've lived through wars, honey, you're a literal baby compared to us" you added, voice low and degradatory.
Wade shuddered as the cold metal of your wedding ring pressed against his skin, his eyes looking up at you with a mixture of desire and submission.
"I'm a- nnnng baby" he repeated, almost breathless. "Logan and you are old. So old."
Logan leaned in closer, his hand still clamped around Wade's hair. "Old enough to be your parents" he repeated, his voice dark and gravely. His teeth almost gracing Wade's ear. "Old enough that you shouldn't be interested in us, bub."
"Please, I- I- ahhhhnn I promise I'm good, I promise I'm good, I- I can be good."
It was funny, really, to see such a cocky and show-off of a man being this needy and whiny between you two. But what could you say, it was the Howlett effect.
You slowly slipped your gold wedding band out of your ring finger, right infront of Wade's eyes âwatching the way he almost busted on the spot just from the sight aloneâ.
"this is what'chu want, ain't it honey?" you teased the mercenary trembling and whining between you. "you want this pretty ring on your finger too, don't ya? you wanna be the throphy toy to a hot, married couple old enough to be your parents, don't you, sweetheart?"
You held the wedding ring infront of Wade's face as one of your hands started to rub his arm âslowly going down to his handâ. Wade was shaking, he didn't even know how he hadn't cum untouched yet with how tight and hot his gut felt. All of his muscles coiled.
Wade looked like he was about two seconds away from spontaneously combusting right there in the small supply closet.
"Please" he breathed out, his voice strained and his eyes fixed on the ring in your hand. "Please, I- I want to be- nngah, I want it. I- I'll be good, I- aaahhhnn"
"Are you?" Logan asked, using the grip on Wade's hip to pull him closer against him. "Are you going to behave for us?"
After a series of jerky and rapid nods coming from the drooling mercenary trembling between you, "good fucking boy, there you go" your voice was low and syrupy, as you grabbed Wade's twitching hand and slowly âalmost sensuallyâ slipped the cold golden wand on his finger.
It looked as if he was going to combust just from having the ring on his finger, from the implications of having a wedding ring from a married couple on his finger.
Maybe you'd find an explanation for the creamy wet spot between Wade's legs and the way he was wearing your wedding ring when you meet the team in a few minutes. Or maybe you won't, who knows.
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