#and perhaps someone will read this and it will make them happy too
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Iâm loving your theories on the whole BuckTommy (sorry Lou ilu but the name BuckTommy has stuck with me) arc. So I have to ask⌠why do you think people (read: fandom people) are convinced this is the last season? I really donât see ABC/Disney undertaking this big of a show (money and following wise) and being like âyeah weâll put time and effort into this production, but only for one seasonâ
Thank you! Glad you love them, I feel slightly less of a clown when people understand how I think lol. Also - I was rooting for Tevan hard, and even Firefly, but I've accepted Bucktommy and now it has a special place in my heart.
As for your question... I think it all comes to change.
Let me explain. For shows to have a long life, they have to change. They have to evolve. We cannot feel as if we are tuning in to the same thing every week, especially when the same thing has long become boring. I will put Modern Family (my ultimate comfort show) as an example: the whole eleven seasons are of constant change. We are growing with the characters, we are happy, frustrated, sad, whatever, with their actions and choices. And because they are changing, we want to tune in next week to see what will be next.
911 has a severe issue of lack of change. The characters go through these cycles constantly; we said Buck was in a hamster wheel, but the truth is that every single character is in there, too. The writers are somehow unable to find new storylines or conflicts, that aren't what we have seen already, only this time with a new context.
This is partly the reason why so many people, and why a big part of the GA, latched onto Tommy and BuckTommy so quickly - because they were a breath of fresh air, and they felt like the much-needed novelty we were all expecting. If we don't have them, we go to the same repetitive stories - with Buck, but with everyone else, too, to be honest.
And if there is no change... people get bored. There are just so many times you can see Henren on the brink of losing their kids, or Buck trying to find the one (it's stopped being cute, especially when he just had the perfect partner for him walk away), Eddie being unable to move on or forget Shannon (because as much as he's 'better' - has he actually dealt with it?), Madney having either a kid storyline or a Dough-influenced storyline, Bathena having issues with communicating... eight seasons is a long time of this. And unless they change it up, just how much longer can they go? We joke about Grey's sometimes, but the fact is that they are constantly changing.
So. That's partly it.
But (without wanting to make this a whole novel), there were also rumors that some cast was hesitant to continue. Take this with a grain of salt, please, but rumor has it that Peter was kind of ready to walk away a while ago. He even has said in interviews he cannot do this for much longer, as 911 is a very exigent show to shoot. He even wanted Bobby to be killed off at the S7 opening emergency. Angela has also expressed a desire to be on Broadway, so that could also be conflicting. Again, take it with a grain of salt.
And as for ABC - you're right, they bought 911. But with the upcoming spin-off, one can't help but wonder if it is not complimentary but, rather, a substitute. Perhaps they are planning on moving someone from the OG there, who knows. The fact is that they managed to catch the audience's attention with the OG, enough that if they lose it but immediately have a variation of it, they might tune in. And this new show would be cheaper than OG is right now because let me tell you - it ain't cheap, as far as I am aware.
If you want my personal opinion on this - I am 50-50. I think it would be a very weird final season if this was the last, but I wouldn't be that surprised if we find out it is. I can see them going for a ninth season, but I cannot see them going further than a tenth, and that is being really generous. If they prove me wrong and are willing to adapt to change, I will happily eat my words.
PS: I do think if this is the last season, or even if we have it in the next couple of years, they could bring Tommy back (if they haven't yet), as a sort of rushed HEA. Kind of playing with the whole 'right person, wrong time', just bringing it to the right time finally.
Thanks for the ask <3
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What's in a name (Dandadan)
Title: What's in a name?
Notes: People wanted more, so here you go, have more! I'm glad people liked the previous chapter. This one takes Okarun's POV and runs with it. I hope the distinction of thought process makes it through in a coherent manner when he's transformed and you know, not. I'm happy to add more to it, as mentioned - I just need scene ideas to put into chapters. There's no end here, it's just a collection of one shots at this point. If an idea sparks and I wish to explore it, I will gladly add to it. Thanks again guys, feel free to leave ideas if you wish!
Pairing: Momo/Okarun romantic undertones, this is pure fluff
Rating: G (there is one instance of the word Fuck, but... )
Summary:Â This wasn't to say he didn't appreciate the nickname she had given him, because he did. It was without a doubt, the first thing genuinely given to him by another person, and he treasured it dearly; it had meaning, power behind it, and whenever anyone called him by it now, it reminded him instantly of her.
Ao3 link: Here
Can also be read under the read more here.
Ken hadn't really given his name much thought before. It was just... a thing, a word imposed on him, and it had never held that much importance. That was, until he'd stumbled across someone that, for whatever reason, hadn't wanted to say it. It had bothered him at the time, and even now, something about her not calling him by it rankled in the back of his mind, somewhere deep, deep down, where he threw all thoughts and emotions he didn't want to inspect too closely.
This wasn't to say he didn't appreciate the nickname she had given him, because he did. It was without a doubt, the first thing genuinely given to him by another person, and he treasured it dearly; it had meaning, power behind it, and whenever anyone called him by it now, it reminded him instantly of her. Not that he needed it to be reminded of her though. Momo Ayase was never far from the forefront of his mind now a days, and he often found himself thinking stray thoughts that had never occurred to him before came along and catapulted herself into his life.
Thoughts like, oh, she'd like this, or oh, she'd absolutely despise this other thing. More than once, he'd found himself squirreling away a shiny rock he'd found that reminded him of her earrings, a small piece of candy with an alien themed wrapper, or even entire magazines on the single notion that she'd like them, and he should thus, of course, present them to her. Never once had he actually gone through it; not once had he actually scrunched up the courage to actually give her the thing he'd secreted away for her, much too self conscious to do so when the notion actually caught up with him. He liked to think it was the intention that matter, and that he just needed a push, and maybe some day soon he'd manage.
Despite what some people thought, Ken was not an idiot; far from it, in his personal opinion. It'd taken him his first journey into her room, back when they were still trying to figure out what to do about Turbo Granny that first day, to realize exactly why she hadn't been able to say his name out loud, and he hadn't taken it out on her. Despite being slightly naive about many things, he wasn't exactly slow, and what he lacked in wisdom, he made up for in other ways. He was, perhaps, not as sharp as Ayase herself in the heat of the moment, but he was no slouch.
Still he'd decided to make no comment on the elephant in the room at the time. He'd not brought it up, and had kept his mouth shut. In a way, he'd come to adopt the nickname like it was his first name, and he'd just felt grateful for it. Even so... it still poked at a small, insecure part of him, deep, deep down in his soul, that she wouldn't say it, even when he didn't want to admit to it out loud.
It was perhaps, some small part of those feelings that slipped through when he was transformed. He couldn't really say.
She'd asked him several times what if felt like when he transformed, and he couldn't quite put it into words correctly. Did he go anywhere? Was it still him in there, fully? Did something else take over? And... no, nothing took over. It was just him, but, maybe... more. It was like his feelings were enhanced, not just his senses, but his actual emotions (and God, what did that say about him, that depression was the one in the wheel house? He didn't really want to poke that thought too much, given what it said about him). He'd noticed he was prone to be much more honest with his feelings and surroundings in that form, like there was no filter between brain and his mouth, and what he felt, he just blurted out.
Emotion fueled that form, at the end of the day.
The first few times he'd slipped into that form unbidden, it had been rage fueling it. Rage unlike anything he'd felt before that had sparked change into existence. He'd never been a particularly angry or argumentative kid; he'd never really fought back against bullies. Has never really tried to, never thought it was worth it to do so. Ken figured it had to be something about Ayase that brought it out of him, because he distinctly recalled clapping back at her several times that day, in a way he'd never thought of doing to his bullies. She'd just been worth it, from the very start.
She'd asked him why he called her by her first name in that form, and truth was, he'd wanted to do so since the first day, honestly, but he'd not been able to. He hadn't hadn't found the courage to do so. Afraid of being inadequate, of just not being enough, and in his defense, this was all just new to him. There wasn't a book to drive him through the very real messy process of actually having a friend.
And again, Ken wasn't stupid. He wasn't an idiot. He may have been awkward, and he may have been new at the whole friendship thing, but he smart enough to have realized after a while that some of the thoughts he held for her were not exactly in the friendship department. He hadn't even begun to untangle that mess, and he wasn't ready to poke and prod at it, but he wasn't stupid. He knew himself at least.
Something about that form however, just seemed to destroy most inhibition, and thus, the name just slipped out, time and time again. It wasn't that he didn't want to say it; he very much did. Ken didn't think he could help it, as much as he couldn't help the strangely spindly arms and anatomy he gained, or his hair from changing color.
It was just a thing, and he'd had to get used to it. It was what it was.
Specially because anger wasn't exactly the only emotion that could trigger a transformation. Fear was just as capable of it as well.
He'd found out the hard way, when a particularly loud sound had crashed through her temple one day when she'd gone outside to fetch something. She'd left him in her room, promising she'd be back as soon as possible, and to make himself comfortable. Ken had sat himself on the floor and had been admiring the organized chaos of the room, and the certain lack of posters he could remember from the first day there, when the sound had caught his attention. Metal like, loud and in his fear hazed mind, entirely out of place.
He'd been up on his feet, transformed and zooming outside her room faster than he'd been able to react or even process thought in a coherent manner. The burst of speed enough that he was outside and in front of her before the sound had even stopped reverberating across the premises. The fear that something had happened while he'd been upstairs and she outside had been visceral, and when he found her looking owlishly at him, with pipes around her (clearly the source of the sound), the relief had been just as visceral, "Momo..."
Demonstrating once more that innate sharpness, the girl took one look at him, and somehow managed to read him in the space of time it too him to process that she was fine, and that they were, in fact, not under attack, "Ah," it was a soft sound of understanding as she took her eyes off of him and turned to look at the pipes scattered on the stone floor at her feet, "Sorry. I noticed them over there, and figured I'd get them moved for grandma behind the main shrine before she had to do so later. They're not heavy for me now, given circumstances," as if to emphasize this, she made a small grabby motion with her hands, and the pipes lifted into the air as if by themselves, "But... I got distracted by something and dropped them, my bad," she left the obvious unsaid; she hadn't meant to scare and startle him, and he was grateful to her for not pointing it out.
"Momoooo..." The gratefulness for her continued safety seeped through him like a cold bath, and he found himself taking a step forward and flopping his head in an almost boneless fashion against her shoulder. His forehead was resting against her body, his posture hunched slightly over her, and by the time he'd done so, he couldn't be arsed to move away; she'd push him away anyways, it didn't matter. Nothing really mattered anyways.
To her credit, rather than do that, after a just a moment, Momo's hand went up and patted the top of his head, "There, there, you big idiot, it's fine, see? Everything's fine," he hadn't told her, back when she'd let him use her lap to nap, but that was likely the first time someone not blood related had offered him any sort of physical comfort. He wasn't used to touching. He wasn't used to any of this, which, granted, didn't mean he didn't want it, just... that he was unsure when it was okay to ask for it, or if it was out of the question to do it back. The strange thought processes of his transformation made it very muddy and he seemed to rely on her body language to read what was and wasn't okay to do, "Feeling better?"
Ken took the moment to catalogue his feelings and well, "Still bummed," he said, head remaining pressed against her, and Momo let out a sigh, her hand lowering from his hair to rub his back in a comforting, circular motion.
"Yeah, that about tracks," she said, "I meant more along the lines of if you've calmed down now."
He offered a small nod against her shoulder, his vision entirely blocked by body, what with his forehead pressed against it, allowing at least one sense to be muted.
"Cool, 'kay," after a few more seconds, she lifted her hand and tapped his side slightly in poke poke poke fashion, a movement that seemed to indicate without words or a push that she wanted him to move, and thus he did. Ken lifted his head off her shoulder and watched her through near unblinking eyes, "Help me move these pipes to where I was gonna take them, and then we'll figure out... this" she gestured to him, head to toe, and again, because she asked, he did exactly what she wanted without protest. He scooped up the few pipes she wasn't carrying with her powers and followed her to the back of the main shrine, where he'd spent that first night.
He was quite sure she could have, at this point in time, asked him to fetch her the moon and stars, and despite the impossibility of it, Ken was sure he would have given it his best try regardless.
"Right, okay, lesee," the moment they had gotten rid of the pipes, Momo had turned to gaze at him, looking him up, then down, and then back up again, "You stayin' like that then?" he had no idea what to tell her, and just watched her, which was apparently enough for her to roll her eyes, "Right, always forget you get super weird like this. So... tell me. What do you think would help?"
Well, Ken wasn't exactly sure what would help in this state. Maybe nothing would. Everything felt so... useless when he was like this, like nothing quite mattered either way, and thinking about it was stressing him out further.
Something about his expression, which he hadn't figured had shifted whatsoever, seemed to indicate enough to her that she rolled her eyes, "Stop overthinking everything, dummy. What do you think would help at this precise moment. What do you need?"
Well, need was a strong word. He didn't need anything, but he figured there was something he wanted. The moment the notion flashed through his mind, his mouth opened, and out it came, absolutely no filter, "Can I hold you?" It was immediately clear from the way she looked at him, absolutely flabbergast, that out of all the things she had expected him to say, this one was nowhere on the list. Her mouth opened and closed two times without sound before Ken decided that honestly, nothing mattered anyways. In for a penny, in for a pound, "Just need a moment to calm down, and last time, when we were running, having you close helped."
She blinked owlishly for another two to three seconds, looked away from him in thought and seemed to come to a conclusion. Like with everything Momo did, when she turned back to look at him, she'd planted her feet and looked determined, clearly not about to back down anymore, "Sure, 'kay, let's do that," and she spread her arms in an awkward initiation of a hug.
Having gotten permission, he angled his body not to hug her, but to pick her up off the ground like one would have a small pet animal, eliciting a startled yelp out of the girl. He then allowed himself to flop on the ground, setting her on the ground in front of him and processed to wrap himself in a near boneless fashion around her, his upper hand leaned over her shoulder, legs spread out in front of him, and instantly... things were marginally better.
"Okarun!" Momo had found her voice again, and though she did not squirm out of her position, did reach out to give his head a light smack, eliciting a huff out of him, "A little warning next time!"
"You said I could though."
"I was expecting to be held, not to be picked up swaddled by your limbs!" despite her words, there was no real anger in her voice, and she slowly relaxed her back to lean against his chest, "You're lucky it's hot as fuck out and you're cold," this was said in a murmur, which was dumb, in his opinion. After all, if she didn't want him to hear her, murmuring near his ear was not exactly the best course of action.
Silence fell and for a good amount of time, during which he closed his eyes and took in the signs she was alive (her scent, her heartbeat, the way her chest expanded each time she took in breath), he moved not an inch.
"Better?" it was reminiscent of the question she'd asked him a bit earlier, and he offered, well... not a nod, but a simile of it, his whole cranium flopping over like it was too heavy for his neck to hold. Momo's response was a sigh as she once again patted his head, once twice before her arm fell back upon her lap, "Good."
Ken expected her to poke him, tell him enough was enough, push away even, but the girl did no such thing. He opened an eye to watch her slide hers shut, and thus, following her example, he did so too.
For now, it seemed like she was as content to sit and bask as he was.
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i just read ur reader piercing naoya's ear fic and i was wondering can u write smth about naoya finding out reader got their belly button pierced? xx
Hello!!!
Did someone say smut? because that's what we got. I think hehe. I'm still somewhat uncomfortable writing it but you know what they say!! practice makes perfect đđđ Anyways, thank you so much for your patience and for sending this ask!!!!! 𼺠it took me a while to get an idea of what I wanted to write, but here we are :> I hope its to your liking!
Also, I believe this is the fic anon is referring to :> If not then gee I've written more about piercings that I've ever expected lol.
warnings: smut. MINORS DNI. you get a piercing and decide to... act weird about it. naoya does not like it :)
Happy reading!
How you managed to hide your piercing from his ever-wandering hands is a commendable feat, even after all went down, you still donât know how you did it.
Though all this couldâve been easily avoided in the first place if you hadnât convinced yourself to do it after seeing a particular photoshoot and thinking âI can look just as good.â
As well as believing this would further spice up your life with Naoya. Like it wasnât spiced enough!
But only after you surpass both your embarrassment and heal; unfortunately, the former only growing stronger and stronger upon realizing this was far more than what you bargained for.
You initially try to play it off as being sick whenever he gets too close. Not in the mood, even. âIâm dizzy.â âMy head hurts.â âIâm on my period.â Are just a few of the excuses you deployed.
And your loving husband, always the (surprisingly) patient one, takes it, because he supposes that for his ever-willing wife he could allow these exceptions. Thus, right after you reject him, he cuddles up to you and falls asleep.
However, his tolerance quickly ends when understanding this wasnât to be a 1-week occurrence. But rather, a monthly endeavor that soon turned his everyday into utter punishment.
Naoya frantically attempted to make sense of it all. Think that perhaps the reason behind your distance was because of some unknown issue that troubled your mind; you always tended to keep things to yourself, even if heâs countlessly assured you he could fix all of your problemsâhe just needs to know them first.
âŚ
But even then⌠Naoya could not understand how easily you were able to detach from him. Because to him⌠to do so meant death itself.
The problem wasnât him. It couldnât be. Naoya had more than enough means to keep you satisfied however you needed it, and he made sure of that too.
Thus, at the lack of answers, he begins to feel threatened. Intimidated. Replaceable.
And we all know how Naoya gets when feeling such way.
âPrincess, you will explain yourselfânow.â Naoya demands, his abrupt, towering presence forcing you deeper into the bedroom, nowhere to escape.
âI donâtâI donât know what youâre talking about!â You gasp, a blatant lie that only served to bury you deeper into your mistakes.
âOh, no. I think you know exactly what Iâm talking about, mochi.â
If you hadnât transgressed Naoya, you wouldâve found his approach very, very inciting.
Unfortunately, even if you wished to go down that path, your dear husband was far too infuriated by your ridiculous behavior to consider anything else that wasnât confronting you.
âWhy are you avoiding me? And donât even try to get out of this one, Iâve been patient enough.â
You knew this moment was fast approaching; only a matter of time before you ran out of excuses⌠or patience to abuse.
Thereâs only so much heâs willing to tolerate before he⌠well, you donât want to think about it.
âIâm just⌠I justâ I donât know how to tell youâŚâ you breathe.
âHow to tell me what?â
âDo you promise to not get angry at me?â
âIâm not sure if I can promise that.â He frowns. You swallow.
ââŚat least not too much?â
Naoya squints his eyes, as if considering it. You knew he wouldnât, you were in the wrongdoing after all.
âJust donât judge me, please.â You eventually profess, and after taking one last breath, you reach for your obi and untie it, careful to not reveal too much but just enough to show the bare skin of your abdomenâ
And the shiny addition to your navel.
Naoya couldnât hold back his laughter.
âIs that all, princess?â He chuckles loudly, like you just told him the funniest joke heâs ever heard. You do not find it amusing. âIs that the reason why youâve been avoiding me??â
âYâyeah IâI guess!â You frown, cheeks burning hot. âDonât make fun of me, I was really hesitant whether to tell you or not!â
âReally? For this silly little thing?â
âIt wasnât silly to me, Naoya!â you cry.
âAlright, alrightâI didnât mean to upset you.â He says, curiously attempting to reach for your piercing before you smack him away. âHey!â
You glance away, placing your obi back in place.
âCome on now, you donât have to hide it from me.â Naoya smirks, stepping closer. âHey, princessââ
âItâs still healing.â You quietly explain; a partial reasoning behind your dismissal.
âAh, so youâre telling me you wouldnât like me to help you?â He enticed, you retreated further into the wall; if possible. âI have more than enough experience with piercings, thereâs no one in the estate more qualified than me.â
âDonât misinterpret my words, you know I didnât mean... that.â You caution, though he spoke nothing but the truth.
âIs that a yes?â Naoya continues, placing his fingers under your chin and pulling your gaze back to his.
ââŚonly if you donât make fun of me.â You eventually agree, and he seals the deal with a chaste kiss on your lips, followed by a tight hug that has you whining in pain. âNaâNaoya!â
âOh, princess, Iâm sorry.â Naoya says, quickly releasing you. âYou poor thing⌠is this how itâs been since?â
You nod.
âWell, youâre in good hands now; and luckily for you, I know just the right thing that will ease your pain.â
Had you known Naoya would completely dedicate his time to make sure you werenât passing any discomfort, then maybe you wouldâve told him of your small endeavor from the very beginning.
It just⌠to see him so enthralled by your impulsive decision, you couldnât help but wonder how different everything wouldâve been if you had decided otherwise.
As well as how much you exaggerated your worries; hadnât your husband consistently proven how far heâs willing to go just to make you happy?
From whatever craving you desired (but nothing that would hinder your healing process) to the endless kisses heâd place on your navelâas if he werenât sufficiently hypnotized by your body, your piercing heightened that desireâNaoya was all yours. Completely allured.
But mostly by the rush he got at being the only person to know of the debauchery that hid beneath the pristine, meek and obedient look you carried around the estate; fitting to the wife of the future leader of the Zenâinâ the same woman many admire by her gentleness, how youâre his living contrast, his better half; never daring to be as outrageous at he is!
If only they knew the truth.
No. It was better if they didnât. Heâd fervently keep all this enjoyment for himself.
âStâstop, Naoya!â you cry, squirming beneath his touch that roamed across your body, caressing the places where heâd like to taint next, such as your now sensitive nipples, which heâd squeeze and pinch incessantly for you to suffer in the following days.
Or your twitching clit, grazing it with no particular desire outside of tormenting you with pleasure. Remind you who really was in charge of your mere existence.
Yet, nothing compared to the way his cock plunged into your warm, tight wallsâchoking him so painfully exquisite, Naoya canât help but moan whenever you do. Keeping your hips steady as he gives you all that he could not these past few monthsâblinding your sight with stars when bruising that one spot that always has you coming undone, which you desperately grasp whenever possible, wanting to steady that agonizing sensation.
Because as cruelly as your husband teased you, you equally desired to pour out all the desire you bottled up by a silly fear, let him enjoy the gift that was always meant for him. Your role in this marriage.
âItâit hurtsâNaoyaâ!â you whimper, a profession Naoya was quick to interject as a lie given the way your cunt refused to stop milking him.
âHmmm, it does, doesnât it?â He breathes against your skin, placing ardent kisses across your cheek down to your neck as his hands reached for one of your nipples once more, giving it a particularly tight pinch that made you squeal.
âNâNaoyaâ!â
âWould it hurt here too, if you got a piercing?â he ponders curiously, another wave of excitement travelling all the way down to his member, which you felt grow even harder, bigger at the thought. Hips unwavering as if he were attempting to drill the proposition deeper and deeper into you.
Naoya was pretty much depraved when it came to your breasts, his hands or mouth always on them whenever possible; So, with this, you fear your chest will never know peace again.
But it doesnât frighten you. In fact, you are willing to entertain such an idea. Endure the pain that follows this decisionâfor him to completely succumb to you.
âWould you do that for me, princess?â Naoya gasps, plummeting faster, stronger into you in that familiar sloppy way that signaled to you he was dangerously close.
You instinctively, as if second nature, wrap your legs around him, keeping him close, right there, followed by the agonizing tightness of you walls that soon make his voice trembleâstopping any silly consideration he mightâve had of spilling his seed anywhere else except where you deserved⌠though Naoya never entertained otherwise.
âShow how much you truly love me, byâby doing this?â he gasps, firmly shutting his eyes to not urge his release at the sight of your bouncing breasts.
âNâNaoyaâ!â you gasp, pulling him closer to you and captivating his lips in a heated kiss. Moaning into his mouth as your tongues intertwined with one another. âAhâNaoya~! Iââ
âPleâPlease, Y/N!â He suddenly begins to beg, now delirious with pleasure. âPleaseâPlease do it for me, princess, you donât know how happy this would make meâhow much I wanted this!â
The combination of your devotion, your sweet whines, the tightness of your core, and the eagerness in the markings in his back is his ultimate downfall, just a few more thrusts and the first spurts of his burning seed spill deep within youâropes of white covering your walls which you welcome almost jealously, as if wasting the smallest drop was the highest sacrilege.
And to a longing mother, it just mightâbut beneath your desires of a family, you wished to welcome back the husband your actions had unwillingly estranged: his intoxicating scent, the strength heâs amassed throughout years thanks to his strict routine, his burning touch tracing your skin with invisible linesâŚ
But most importantly, his love, which you tightly held onto as he came down from his high, resting on your chest as he lets out a deep sigh, still plugged into you, just as heâd done the past few times in hopes his seed will finally take root. Naoya wishes to be a father too, and the thought always makes your heart flutter.
Itâs the look of a man well satisfied. A man that has wholeheartedly committed to you, body and soulâŚ
A husband that deserves to be rewarded, consoled. Urging you to speak coherently for the first time that night and let him know he no longer stands alone.
âIâll do it.â You say, Naoya snuggles closer to you.
âHm?â
âThe piercing thing. Iâll do it, if thatâs what you want.â
âThe⌠oh.â Naoya blinks, moments of his passion suddenly flash back to his mind. Wouldnât be the first time heâs spoken at the heat of the moment, nor the last.
âDo you really⌠want me to do that?â you murmur hesitantly. âGet another piercing?â
And for a few seconds, the two remain in complete silence, whether enjoying the intimacy heâs been cruelly deprived from, or considering your words⌠it didnât matter. Neither wanted this moment to stop.
It was simply⌠perfect. Just the two, with each otherâs heartbeat to fill the quietness in the roomâand the doubts in your mind.
âNo.â Naoya eventually confesses, placing a kiss on your skin. âI do not.â
Because as much as the idea enthralled him, he didnât want to force anything on you. Certainly not for a piece of metal.
âYouâre perfect to me like this. With or without piercings.â
Your heart tightens at his words.
âYou donât mind the one I already have, then?â you ask, he laughs. As if it hadnât just shown you.
âNo. Not at all; I didnât think you could be any hotter, and yet, here you are⌠proving me wrong, my adorable lava cake.â
You frown at the gross nickname, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.
âHey! Whatâs with the aggression?â He jests, but you simply hug him tighter, closer to you. âIs that how you treat the husband that had so lovingly filled you with his seedâ"
âShut up, donât be crude!â You say, resting your head on his. After a few moments of silence, calming down, you declare: ââŚI love you.â
Naoya lets out a breathy chuckle, succumbing to your affection moments before his slumber.
âI love you more, my little mochi.â
Oh, how could you ever doubt his affection?
I always suspected Y/N to be more of a tattoo kind of person; idk why, but I think it would complement each other nicely too. Naoya is with the piercings, and you with the tattoo's. We all known which one he'd like.
Also, I will never tire myself of writing Naoya as completely gross with you. Like, the mere thought of you hiding such a simple piercing from him is OOF he loves it. I mean, without the constant pushing him away lol But yeah, watching you walk around in one of those traditional yukatas with your hair all pulled up in the most appropriate way ever, looking to appease the Zen'in only for him to be like:
"Yeah, you see her? No one would suspect my wife has her nipples pierced." IS SUCH a HUGE turn on to him. Maybe you do get them later on, who knows? đ
Anyways, I hope you liked this small thing I wrote 𫣠I shall continue to strive improving my smut skills, sometimes I get so inspired, sometimes... I don't even know what I'm doing :'(
Well, still; I wish y'all enjoy it. Take care and hope to see you soon â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
#ask#naoya zenin#naoya zen'in#naoya x reader#naoya zenin x reader#naoya zenin x you#jjk naoya#naoya zen'in x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#prompt series: jujutsu kaisen
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Hi Charlie. I was wondering why the Hannibal family doesn't have anything about Hannibal Jr's mother? Imagine someone (Kevin, for example) accidentally found a photo of her and he was curious to know who it was. How would Hannibal Jr feel about her? Does Hannibal Sr still love her? Maybe Hannibal Sr there are drawings where he depicted her, or maybe she used to sculpt from clay or make wax figures and has one left as a keepsake? How would they all react if she came to visit them? It would be interesting to read
Hannibal Sr. : "âŚDo I still love her ? I do not think I have ever loved any human being the way I loved myâŚClarice."
Hannibal Jr. : "I have always known who my mother was. When I was 5, my father painted her from memory and hung her portrait in our great hallâso I would never forget her. He talked about her every night until I knew everything about herâeverything to her very scent. My father made sure to honour her the way she ought to be. Every year, we go to her tomb and put some flowers down on her cherished grave. She was beautiful. And my father adored her in a way I never quite understood until I metâŚWill. In some way, my father and I seem to share the sameâŚtasteâŚwhen it comes to our companions. They knew who we were, but they never feared us the way the world doesâŚUnfortunately, Hannibals are not allowed happiness. We are cursed. And in some way, I think my mother knew thatâŚand yet, she chose my father. She chose me."
The portrait of Hannibal Jr.'s mother, Clarice Starling, hung in the Lecter family's great hall like an enigmaâher beauty preserved through Hannibal Sr.'s memory and brushstrokes, as vivid and haunting as the day it was painted. Every detail was imbued with reverence and sorrow, from the delicate lines of her face to the depth in her eyes, as if she were looking out, eternally watching over them.
Morgan was the first to break the silence, stepping forward with a quiet reverence as he studied the portrait. He seemed captivated, as if he were in the presence of something sacred. "SheâsâŚstunning," he murmured, his usual stoic expression softening. There was a hint of wonder in his voice, mingling with something deeperâperhaps a respect for the woman who had left such an indelible mark on both his father and his uncle. "Itâs strange," he continued, "to think that she once stood where we are. That she was loved so deeply, so permanently." He fell silent, his gaze lingering on her image, trying to absorb the traces of her presence that remained within the family.
Peter, unable to keep his emotions hidden, felt his eyes sting as he looked upon her face. There was a warmth to her expression, a kindness that made his heart ache. "She looks gentleâŚlike she understood," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wish I could have known her, orâŚat least seen how happy she made them. She seems like someone whoâŚcould bring peace." He glanced at Hannibal Jr., his expression one of quiet yearning. For Peter, Clarice represented a love and acceptance he feared he would never findâan ideal almost too precious to exist in their dark, twisted world.
Kevin, always a bit defiant, couldnât help but approach the portrait with a mix of admiration and a flicker of challenge. He studied her features with a critical eye, as if trying to understand what made her worthy of such devotion from the Lecter men. "She was brave to love him," he finally declared. "To stand beside father, knowing what he was. Thatâs rare." There was a hint of jealousy in his voice, as if he resented the bond she had formed with his father, a bond that somehow defined his family even in her absence. "I wonderâŚif she would have loved us too. Me, Peter and MorganâŚ" he muttered, almost to himself, his gaze lingering on her serene expression.
Hannibal Jr. turned toward Kevin, his usually composed face softening as he took in his nephewâs words. "She would have loved you," he said, voice quiet yet filled with conviction. "Perhaps not in the same way she loved our father, but with her own kind of warmth. She wasâŚgenerous. She had a way of finding beauty in places most would fear to look. I believe that, given the chance, she would have seen that beauty in each of you as well." He paused, a rare smile gracing his lips, almost tender. "In some ways, you carry her spirit more than you realize."
Hannibal Sr. stepped forward, his presence commanding as he regarded his grandchildren, his gaze settling on Kevin. "Clarice was indeed brave," he said, his voice carrying a quiet reverence that was rare to hear from him. "She chose to see beyond the man I was, and in doing so, she chose a life that held both darkness and devotion. It was not a choice she made lightly, but one she embraced fully." He paused, his intense gaze unwavering. "Had she known you, I have no doubt she would have loved you. She would have seen the strength in your passion, Kevin, the compassion in Peterâs heart, and the ambition in Morganâs mind. Each of you would have been cherished, just as you are cherished now."
Kevinâs expression softened as he listened, his resentment replaced by a solemn appreciation. Hannibal Sr. laid a hand on his sonâs shoulder. "Do not resent the bond we had; rather, honor it by embracing the bond we now share. You are each her legacy as much as you are mine."
For a brief moment, the great hall seemed to hold a sense of peace, as if Clariceâs spirit had indeed found a place in each of them, uniting them in a bond that transcended time, love, and even loss. Clarice had died, but her spirit remained in the Hannibal legacy forever.
#fandoms#imagine#fanfic#hannibal jr#hannibal family#hannibal lecter#hannibals#morgan hannibal#peter hannibal#kevin hannibal#hannibal#hannibal sr.
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a reward for staying alive â¤ď¸âđĽ
the post-concert depression is always severe with this band... i had to pull myself back to reality many times yesterday. today i'm able to put my thoughts down and reminisce - i don't want to forget a single thing, so i'm trying my best to write everything down - this is why my posts end up being so long. so, regarding the clancy concert in montreal, and how this band feels like a reward for staying alive... novel below.
um, the concert lasted like 5 minutes?! way too short for my soul, corazĂłn... it seems every show goes by faster and faster, probably because i love them more and more every time đĽ˛
i don't know how, but the more i go to the bell centre, the smaller of a venue it seems. it felt so intimate, not sure if it's the familiarity of it all, or if they're just that good at including us in everything.
josh was funny and interactive and he wore a montreal shirt, tyler brought so much energy and spoke french, vocals and drums and every other instrument were flawless, they tore the place down.
from the moment trees ended, i already started missing them so much. every time i know trees is coming up and every time they play it, i get this bittersweet feeling. one of my favourite songs of theirs, that also signals the end of the show... it's a beautifully sad experience đĽş
and when i got home, my first thought was "they did it again". i've felt this way after each of their shows.
in regards to past experiences;
the bandito tour, 2019. my first tøp show, so probably the one that will always mean the most. i had never seen an artist perform every song off the album they were touring before. that was incredibly special, not just because trench means so much to me, but because the show itself felt magical. it is actually the reason why i'm so into the band today - i'd loved them and their songs for a while, but seeing them live is what cemented it for me.
the icy tour, 2022. this one was a bit of a last minute decision. it was straight up just fun, very reflective of the era as a whole. they played so many songs, some of my absolute favourites, and i had great seats and got to take some really cool photos and videos.
the clancy tour, 2024. well, there's obviously a lot to say, seeing as it's still fresh in my mind. an even more last minute decision... it needs its own section. and i love to see others enjoying it as much i have đĽ˛
i went into the bandito show with no prior knowledge whatsoever. i had checked the setlist before the icy show, but didn't know how it was going to play out. this time, i had watched an entire livestream of the first clancy show of the tour, so i knew everything beforehand. and yet, every single one left me mesmerized at how much the songs come alive, and all three are my favourites i've ever attended.
and on a personal level... - the bandito show was rough. i was on an ongoing anxiety attack that didn't go away until the next day, and it was the show that caused the worst pcd đ didn't help that i was also in a tough time of my life, in university and struggling with careers and mental health and friendships... - the icy show had its own set of challenges. it was friday night, i got there straight from work, tired and worn out from the week, and i had to pee the entire show đŁ ever since, i have to go to the bathroom like 3 times before an event, lol. i'm truly scarred from that đ
- the clancy show had none of that. no anxiety, no urges, no discomfort. no waiting in lines, not for entrance, not for merch, not for the bathroom, not for the show (i am also scarred from having to wait over an hour in the pit for other artists before...). i'm in a better place in my life. didn't care what people thought of me. no problems, everything was smooth. it was perfect.
a few key moments;
perhaps the moment that marked me the most wasn't even about tyler or josh. it was the kid in the row in front of me. when tyler announced he was about the play oldies station, the kid (well, maybe not a kid - he seemed to be in his late teens) absolutely rejoiced. he was singing his heart out, and when it ended, he fist pumped to himself, and that moment alone⌠meant everything. context and timing considered, it continues to amaze me the impact this song has. it made me so happy đĽş
josh looking up to my section after he walked to his mini stage, connecting with us and airdrumming sometimes, specifically during mulberry street. after the intro and before the first verse without drums, he continued his arm movements but without touching the drums, and made funny faces to us đĽš
tyler saying "you're crrraaaazzzyyyyyy" after we had rapped the entire second verse of ride by ourselves, with just the backing track, neither one of them playing or singing đđđ
josh singing along to himself while drumming, and the parts where he actually sang⌠my goodness. during paladin, i was so lost in the moment that i forgot he did the backing vocal parts, and as soon as he started singing, the crowd erupted. pulled me out of my trance and made me smile so hard.
oh yeah, tyler saying we might be his favourite show of the tour so far? yeah okay, artists say that all the time, he probably didn't mean it⌠but i choose to believe he did 𤪠he's never said that to us before!!
at 8:43 i heard a loud, distorted noise that it took me a few seconds to make out⌠"what's your ETA" đ exactly two minutes before they came on đđ gosh i love this band so much.
speaking of right before the show started, idk if it was tyler & josh or others, but during those two minutes they were peeking their hands out through the curtains and making gestures, getting us amped up, it was so funny and sweet đĽš
those first few notes of overcompensate⌠and when the song actually started⌠and that whole song, really⌠whew. it will always be a fav of mine. sooooo so happy i got to hear it live.
it was incredibly healing to scream along the lyrics, especially to the songs off clancy. it's hard to even explain. backslide⌠that and overcompensate were the ones i was excited for the most, they're 2/4 of my favs (the other two being the only songs from clancy not being performed đ˘), and they definitely didn't disappoint. and again, oldies station... i'm not even joking when i say that my heart felt like this emoji â¤ď¸â𩹠so, so, so glad the song was on my setlist. and of course, next semester, yelling hey kid, get out of the road and start fresh next semester, wow. and navigating... the craving... PALADIN STRAIT... just magic.
i love this band so much.
they're the people's band. i love the relationship i have with them. i see them and i don't see celebrities, i see people who make art, people who have gone through similar things. i see the crowd and the way they're touched by them. i see family. we don't know each other, but they help me when i need them. their music is always there, within reach, it's always meaningful, always of high quality, there's always more to learn, always more to love.
that's why i don't participate in the fandom as much, i don't dig into the lore to try and solve things, i don't fight for barricade or travel to multiple shows (no offence to anyone who does). that's what allows me to have my own relationship with each and every song. that's what makes each show i do go to all the more special.
and just like every time, going to one of their shows feels like a reset button. it quite literally reminds me of why i fight, just what tyler intended. surrounded by others also fighting, people who have survived, growing older together, knowing that things do get better, and healing is possible... i'm truly so grateful to have them in my life, and so blessed to have gotten to see them three times. i hope for many more, years down the road, one for every era, and to continue to grow with them.
they're a motivation to push on through. with every new album, every new show... they're a reward for staying alive.
thank you, twenty one pilots. for everything. i'm so proud to call you my favourite band, i'm so glad you're my band. i love you forever.
#originally meant for my journal but i decided to share here as well#i mean... this *is* a blog after all đ what is tumblr for if not for blogging#documenting memories is the best thing i've ever done for myself#and perhaps someone will read this and it will make them happy too#or maybe get them amped for their own show - or look back on the one(s) they've seen#even if no one reads this i loved writing it and i'm so glad i was able to put my thoughts into words#i am so grateful â¤ď¸âđĽ#twenty one pilots#music#clancy tour spoilers#live from the bc
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Ep 5!!!
#Episodes that make me go âThe author has never talked with a woman everâ đđđ#I don't like how Lucy's character is handled at all. And I feel like I can't talk about it because I'm just going to sound like a bitterâ#ss/kk shipper... But I really don't like it. And if it can help my case I'm a multishipper so I really don't take anyâ#issues with atsu/lucy I like the ship quite a lot actually.#So you're telling me there's this girl... Who meets this boy who pretty much ruined her life by directly causing her to lose her job...#And the next time she sees him she's going to sacrifice her own freedom for him as well as tell him âwhen you're done doing your thingsâ#come and save meâ (longest ewwww ever)... And when she regains freedom (author didn't bother to explain how because they don't care)â#she goes to work... As a waitress at the cafĂŠ beneath his workplace. So he can keep doing his Cool Superpowers Job while she literallyâ#must serve him every time he visits the place. It's just ?????????????????????????????????#Lookâ I don't dislike Lucy and I feel general affection towards her. It's just that they make her act like no one ever would#Just for the sake of the plot I guess#And like I knoww it's (probably just a little) more nuanced than that. I know Lucy is living her own fairy tale fantasy.#It's just that what I've said about her story is still trueâ you know?#I'm sorry but as sweet as atsu/lucy can be. I really hate the author for making Lucy a waitress. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.#It's so weird. This anime has women writing standards that feel like dating back to the 20s#Same with Katai and the ideal woman tbh. Like why are women to be seen as this abstract impersonal entities? Why can't they just be people?#Ideal for WHO. It's like super screwed up of a concept. What even is an ideal woman? What does it mean to be a woman anyways?#They just want to say âideal wifeâ. But women aren't made to be wives their existence isn't functional to another person.#Sorry. I derail. Next episode is going to be even worse on this front ughhhh#Back to the episode: once again it really shows they were running out of budget with this seasonâââ the animation looks very suffered#Too many flashback also... I feel bad for the animators tbh#I don't really like the shift in art style :( Not even Atsushi I found particularly pretty this episode my heart cries#The nail pulling thing made me feel like throwing up afhsjyabfsbfwasfvb I feel like I can bear worse gore but there's a couple of littleâ#specific things I can't stand and this seems to be one of them pffftttt#I like Higuchi I think she's both very funny and cool. I really wish she was explored more (but then again looking at Teruko... )#The relationship between Kunikida and Katai looks so interesting even though we only get glimpses of it. Kunikida regrets Katai leavingâ#the ada but is also happy for him but also worries for him. He comes to his house seemingly to check on him and starts cleaning around.#The way he loves him and cherishes their friendship and shared history is really evident and it makes for a compelling dynamic.#Perhaps I should read their short story... In any case. Going to someone's house and compulsively start doing the dishes half out of willâ#to help out half because he can't bear the mess sounds a lot like something I'd do lol
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Hey! Your writing is amazing! Iâve been checking daily for new fics lmao
I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?
Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. Theyâre on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save â Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Loganâs relationship starts to deteriorate. Loganâs not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service â bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.
Iâm sorry if this is confusing!! Iâm not creative enough to write it myself and youâre really really skilled. Love your work x
a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.
âWhatâre you thinking of doing after this?â
You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. âNot sure, got any plans?â
Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever heâs about to say is going to send you spiraling. âYeah, whatever youâre doing, sweetheart.â
Oh. My. God!
You know youâve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. Itâs so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend youâre more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him.Â
Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you donât know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. âSounds good, Lo.â
He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Stormâs face that sheâs trying not to laugh at you. You canât blame her, youâre sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned.Â
Flirting isnât out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, heâs upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. Youâre shy, not stupid, you know when a guyâs going to ask you out.Â
But it feels like heâs dragging it out longer than necessary like heâs enjoying teasing you a little too much. âAlright,â Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. âWeâre almost there, get ready.â
You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling.Â
The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. Youâre expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that theyâve been doing.Â
The air is bursting with moisture. Itâs suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That itâs irritating them just as much.Â
None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. Itâs beyond embarrassing. You know that thatâs what has you all distracted.Â
Youâre struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldnât have to, youâre still about a mile out from where you need to be.Â
You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charlesâ voice screams through your mind. Itâs a trap!
Even with the warning, thereâs no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover.Â
The other three have all found their own cover and theyâre struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, âBehind you!â
Itâs more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark.Â
You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. âDonât,â Logan warns. But youâre already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack.Â
Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. âThere are too many of them, more than I can count.âÂ
âHow did they know we were coming?â Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you.Â
Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. Youâre forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified.Â
âGuys,â you snap, âwe need a plan. I canât hold it much longer.â You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But thereâs nothing he can do.Â
Thereâs movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You canât risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jeanâs voice. âTen of them-â
You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others donât give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isnât much to worry about. But that doesnât change the fact that the men in front of you havenât let up and youâre about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up.Â
Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know sheâs sharing it with you.Â
But just as quickly as the relief was given, itâs yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, âFlux, we need to move!â
âI canât,â you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. âItâll all come crashing down,â you tell her.Â
She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way theyâre slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go youâll be riddled with holes. âShit,â she hisses. âLook, we canât stay here much longer-â
Sheâs cut off by a loud bang. Youâre so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both.Â
You donât what happened, or what they used, but it doesnât matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, youâre not sure either of you is going to make it.Â
âJean!â Thereâs a flash of brown hair and Jeanâs being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bulletâs made its way through.Â
You also see the tree is almost over top of you. Youâve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when thereâs nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. Itâs horrible, you know it, but thereâs nothing you can do about it.Â
Even as youâre desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. âFlux, duck!â The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground.Â
Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You donât even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, thereâs so much adrenaline pumping through you, you canât focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat.Â
You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You donât hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadnât taken down before, the beam took care of the rest.Â
You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you canât find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand.Â
You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze youâd had earlier. âOh my god,â Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look.Â
You want to ask her whatâs wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Loganâs arms are bracketing her. Heâs practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast.Â
But that doesnât make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesnât ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesnât want him. The anger youâre feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings.Â
Itâs not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someoneâs dug razor blades in your skin and ripped.Â
Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. âWhat the fuck did you do?â He practically growls, lunging towards Scott.Â
He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you donât want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like itâs being forcefully exposed and plucked at.Â
Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black.Â
When you wake up, youâre on your stomach. Youâre a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but thereâs a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. âDonât move,â Jean warns from somewhere behind you.Â
You try and look for her but you canât move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. âWhat happened? Why canât I move?â
Her shoes appear in front of you and then sheâs kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. âWe needed to make sure you didnât roll over in your sleep.â Her brows crinkle and she frowns, âYou donât remember?â You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple.Â
The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage.Â
Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged.Â
She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. Itâs dulled and you donât know if theyâve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. âHowâs Scott?âÂ
She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. âHe feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.â
The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasnât his fault, heâd helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you.Â
You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadnât helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didnât bring much comfort, though. âIâm not mad at him.â
Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but itâs still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. âI know, but heâll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.â
You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you donât think her answer would make you feel any better. âHe did,â she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation.Â
âOut of my head,â you warn. She releases you with a small grin. âI donât care,â you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant.Â
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. âYes, you do. And I donât need telepathy to know.â She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. âHe was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.â
âDonât care,â you tell her again, but thereâs less conviction this time.Â
Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. Itâs not her fault heâs desperately in love with her and not you. You canât force someone to love you or choose you. And you donât want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldnât have their first choice.Â
âDonât,â you say lowly. âDonât apologize, itâs not your fault.â
She doesnât get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, âYouâre awake.â
âCharles told us,â Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott.Â
Petty, youâre aware. But you donât want to see Logan right now. Youâd put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesnât even matter if he doesnât feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didnât even try to help you when you needed him the most.Â
So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You canât make yourself face him. You donât want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.
Eventually, Scottâs guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand.Â
âWhatâre you doing?â
You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. âGetting comfortable,â you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens.Â
He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. âRight.â He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. âIâll come back when youâre feeling a little better.â You donât miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way heâs calling out youâre unusual behavior.Â
âI think thatâd be best.â
He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way heâd been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated.Â
Youâre sure he doesnât even give a shit. Heâs probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him.Â
What the fuck?
Itâs all thatâs been playing through Loganâs head since he returned from your room in the medbay. Heâs waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety thatâs been plaguing him.Â
Heâd thought that heâd lost you in that forest. When heâd gone for Jean, heâd assumed youâd just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you.Â
Honestly, he canât put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So heâd moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire.Â
And then you hadnât saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He canât escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams.Â
Heâd thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldnât move, couldnât help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you werenât dead.Â
He didnât know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you.Â
Heâd, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. Heâd prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadnât expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess.Â
Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that itâs unfair to be upset with you. Youâd gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, youâd act off.Â
Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. Heâs tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense.Â
Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesnât want to do anything he might regret while heâs pissed off. Heâll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, youâll be back to normal.Â
Youâd thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. Heâs back today and you can smell the breakfast food heâs brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag.Â
But you know itâs from the restaurant thatâs twenty minutes out of his way. Youâre not petty enough that you canât appreciate the forty-minute round trip heâd taken for you, but you still arenât excited to see him.Â
âHey, sweetheart,â he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you.Â
You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while youâre pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know heâs aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip.Â
You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you donât have to look at him. Youâre sick of giving your all to men who couldnât care less about you.Â
Youâre tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But heâd chosen Jean. You should have known.Â
âAlright,â he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. Youâre pissed off that heâs acting like heâs the one who was hurt. âWhat the hell is your problem? Youâve never been this mad at me before.â
Itâs his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what heâs done wrong. He doesnât even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?
Yes, youâre shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions.Â
âYou left me to die,â you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. Youâve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But youâd never plainly shown anger at him. âYou fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,â you scoff and shove the food back towards him.Â
âYou think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?â His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesnât know how you feel about him. He doesnât know that this would hurt you so bad.Â
But, it doesnât matter. Youâre still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern.Â
Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. âI thought you could take care of yourself. Isnât that what youâre always bitching at us about?â
If you werenât so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.
âFuck you, Logan,â you snap back at him. âYou didnât give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.â You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue.Â
He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know heâs pacing so he doesnât do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room.Â
âThatâs what this is, youâre jealous? Donât blame your fucking incompetence on me.â You hate the way heâs speaking to you. Like youâre a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off.Â
The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. âIâm your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.â
He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until heâs aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. âDonât fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasnât some goddamn ploy to get into Jeanâs pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!â
You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. Itâs an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. Itâs infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think youâre nothing more than a crybaby.Â
Loganâs face pales and he winces, backing away from you. âI didnât-â
âEnough,â you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, itâs an unspoken agreement between the two of you. Thatâs a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, youâre nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another.Â
Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up.Â
âI appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasnât even to protect me says a lot.â You take in a deep breath and shake your head. âThanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?â
He looks like he doesnât want to. You know he doesnât want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasnât a lot said, itâs still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things werenât what you thought.Â
Itâs healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know itâs just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. âI-â
âGet out,â you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. âShit,â you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesnât matter. You shouldnât have lost control at all.Â
The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest.Â
You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to.Â
You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her.Â
Youâre permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You donât see or hear from Logan for the following week. You canât confirm if heâs purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You donât know how itâs possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him.Â
You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You donât want to ache and cry over someone who doesnât give two shits about you.Â
You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But itâs more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him.Â
Besides, you hadnât realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. Itâs so difficult for you to bond with people that when youâd connected with Logan youâd latched onto him.Â
Itâs a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You donât let yourself linger on the question for long.Â
Itâs as your training with the students that you finally see him again.Â
âHas he made much progress yet?â
Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire.Â
His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldnât start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated.Â
That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But youâd been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasnât trying sometimes.Â
Heâd asked Rogue out a week ago and when sheâd said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But youâd seen the look in his eye.Â
Youâre fifty percent sure he knows exactly what heâs doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadnât brought the issue to Charles yet because youâre trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.Â
âBilly,â you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You canât help the sneer on your lips. âJust take a deep breath and try again. Thereâs nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.â
You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isnât buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, âRight. Sorry, I forgot youâre a fuck-up just like me.â
âBilly!â Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesnât get far before thereâs a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you.Â
Thereâs no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but thereâs a hand underneath your skull softening the blow.Â
You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where youâd just been. Jeanâs standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, âAre you okay?â
Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices youâre okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position.Â
âYou alright,â his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt.Â
He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When heâs properly assured youâre okay he jumps to his feet. âBilly!â His voice booms across the courtyard and itâs the first time youâve ever seen that little asshole scared.Â
Heâs barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. âWe need to have a little talk,â the tone of his voice has you a little scared and youâre not even the one heâs mad at.Â
Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. âIs your back okay?â
âYeah,â you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. âYeah, Iâm fine. I canât believe he did that.â
Jean scoffs and glares towards Billyâs back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. âJean! He got you, are you okay?â
She glances down at her shirt and frowns. âYeah, practically a sunburn.â She gives you a reassuring smile, âIâll be fine.â
As shitty as this sounds, youâre not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever.Â
Youâre not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but youâre running after him before Jean can stop you. Heâs barely got a minute headstart on you, youâre not sure why you canât find him. Youâd gone through every inch of the first floor.Â
You donât know where he would have dragged Billy, but itâs nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that youâre ever going to figure out whatâs happening inside his brain.Â
You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You canât believe that little shit tried to roast you. Youâre not comfortable with the fact that heâs just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere.Â
You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. âLogan,â you give him a strained smile. âI was looking for you.â You glance over his shoulder and frown. âWhereâs Billy?â
Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. âWheels got to him before I could do anything.â
You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. âWhat were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?â
He doesnât find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. âHe was really trying to hurt you.â
His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. âYeah, I wanted to,â god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had.Â
âYouâre always my priority.â He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. âSaving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.â
You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. âI know, thatâs not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.â
âNo,â you stop him and shake your head. âNo, Logan, I shouldnât. I,â your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea.Â
âI liked you in a way you didnât like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.â You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and youâre not sure he even understood half of what you said.Â
His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. Youâre not sure if itâs a good or bad thing that heâs smiling. You canât tell if heâs mocking you or about to profess his undying love.Â
You donât have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until youâre practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, youâre drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him.Â
âWhat are you doing?â Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up.Â
âIâm gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.â His lips brush across your own and itâs like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until youâre practically melting into him.Â
Itâs everything youâve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order.Â
You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, heâd tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing heâd ever held.Â
That would be nice, but this is better. Heâs not holding you like youâre something fragile or something too precious for this world. Heâs kissing you like youâre the very air he needs to survive. Heâs greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants.Â
Youâre being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all youâve ever wanted with him, from him.Â
Sadly, you do have to breathe. Youâre the one that forces the stop, youâre sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips.Â
You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You donât mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. âForgive me yet?â
You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. âWhy donât you do that again and Iâll think about it?â
He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. âYouâre really gonna make me work for it, huh?â
You smile and nod, leaning into him again. âYouâre never gonna hear the end of it,â you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You canât believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you.Â
He didnât choose Jean over you. Heâs just a dumbass.Â
a/n: I had to resist putting in a âpick me, choose me, love meâ line in there bc that would have just been too much lol
end. â I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved Š not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp
Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte Â
@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl âĄÂ
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett#logan howlett imagine#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine imagine#wolverine#x men#x men x reader#hugh jackman#deadpool and wolverine#hugh jackman x reader#anon
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jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral
hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members
âş cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive
summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and itâs casual for the most part. but as time passes, you canât help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a clichĂŠ to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.
âş night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr
summary: jungkookâs always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesnât expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass oâclock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?
âş this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks
summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what itâs like to want someone with his entire being.
âş the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk
summary: this series follows jungkookâs life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!
âş ultimatum - by @parkmuse
summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).
âş a hero's journey - by @hansolmates
summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story
âş tempest - by @kooktrash
summary: youâve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didnât expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. heâs got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.
âş by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga
summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.
âş slow dancing - by @yoonia
summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesnât seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.
âş e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess
âş hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover
summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up⌠Not if your brother can help it, though.
#bts fic rec#fic recs#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts x oc#bts angst#bts smut#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#taehyung angst#taehyung smut#jimin angst#jimin smut#yoongi angst#yoongi smut#bts fan fiction#fic rec list#namjoon angst#namjoon smut#hoseok angst#hoseok smut#seokjin angst#seokjin smut#bts masterlist#jungkook x reader#taehyung x reader#seokjin x reader#hoseok x reader#namjoon x reader
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Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch âŚđ thx
x : DISTANCE :*+ďž
in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?
warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.
a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt
Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaineâs sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm. Â
What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didnât even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc.Â
âHow are you and your spouse?â A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.
âY/n and I? Weâre amazing, thank you,â Wriothesley answers. âIâm always happiest whenever Iâm with Y/n.âÂ
The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. âThatâs good to hear.â
âAlthough, Y/n has been quite⌠affectionate recently, to the point that itâs borderlining too much-â
The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesleyâs desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.
Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They donât question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.
Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didnât he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldnât your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?
Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps itâs time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.
Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didnât see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him. Â
Whatever the reason, heâll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you.Â
When he returns home later in the evening, youâre asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesnât want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.
âY/n?â He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.
âWriothesley? Youâre home?â You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. âWhat time is it?â
âNearing six in the evening.â
âOh my! I didnât mean to sleep that long! Iâll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-â
Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you donât melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesnât notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.
âDonât worry about dinner, Iâll cook,â Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. âHave some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.â
He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks youâre the most beautiful being to ever exist.Â
âThank you,â you murmur.
âIâll call you when dinnerâs ready.â The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you.Â
âDarling, you have a sticker on your arm.â You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion.Â
âThose melusines,â he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them.Â
âIâm surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.â
âQuiet, you,â thereâs no bite to his words.
âThey put a little crab on you,â you giggle. âMust be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.â
âI did? Why didnât you tell me?â
âI find it funny.âÂ
He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. âDo you now?â The dark-haired murmurs. âTurns out my own spouse is against me also.â
âIf it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?â
âYou are an awful influence,â Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.
You pat his shoulders in surrender. âShouldnât you be working on dinner, dear? Itâs already quite late.â You pray he doesnât notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.
If he does notice, he doesnât comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen.Â
ââ ââ
ââ
â ââ
Thereâs a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. âWhere are you going tonight?â
âClorinde and I are going to dinner together,â you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasnât on your shoulders right now.Â
He pouts. âWhen will you be home?â
âNot too late, thatâs for sure. Weâre meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.â
âAn evening without my love, whatever shall I do?â
âYouâll live,â you smile before raising a necklace up to him. âHelp me put this on?â
With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, itâs full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much.Â
Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. âIâll get going now before Iâm too late.â
âDo you need me to accompany you there?âÂ
âItâs alright, thank you for offering.â Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. âSee you tonight, darling-â
â-Arenât you forgetting something?â
âWhat?â Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. âI brought my wallet, keys? Theyâre here, what am I forgetting?â
Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesnât hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. âA kiss.â
âOh, of course. How could I be so careless?â you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure.Â
âLove you,â you murmur when parting.Â
The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of âstayâ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun.Â
âI love you more,â he sighs, holding open the front door for you. âBe back soon.â
âIâll try. Bye dear!â You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden. Â
He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once youâre out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away.Â
Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. Thereâs a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him.Â
âHello, love,â you say, slipping your shoes off.
âWelcome back,â he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks heâs imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesnât really know what youâre trying to do.
Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum.Â
You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.
ââ ââ
ââ
â ââ
Whatever occurred that night isnât a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries youâve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.
During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.
You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.
So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?
âWhat a lovely view!â You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and youâre out on a picnic with the love of your life.
âHereâs a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?â You ask.
âSounds amazing, darling,â he responds, setting down the picnic basket when youâve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.
Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesleyâs favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaineâs sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.
The Fortress of Meropideâs administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isnât uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasnât shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.
âHow did you discover this place?â You ask.
âSiora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,â he answers and you canât help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.
Melusines and their wholesome ways. Youâll find a way to thank Siora later. âHow kind of her and how fortunate for us.â
âI take it you like it here then?â
âI love it,â you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.
Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. Itâs not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks.Â
âWill you be visiting me at the office today?â He asks.
You tear your gaze away from the horizon. âPerhaps. Do you want me to?â
âWould I really be asking if I didnât?â
âPlease, forego the sass, your grace,â you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips.Â
âSeriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.â
âAre you trying to butter me up?â
âIs it working?âÂ
âMaybe,â you mutter, grinning. âWould you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?â
âHow about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didnât you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionistâs.â
You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. âAn emergency happened just as I reached there. I didnât want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.â
Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. âI see. You did the right thing, my love,â he presses a kiss to your cheek.Â
âIâll visit you today,â you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response.Â
âAmazing. Iâm looking forward to it, thenâ
You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesleyâs office.Â
Since being with him, youâve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step.Â
Itâs ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours canât stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.
Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office. Â
âHello, dear,â you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.
âHi,â he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.
âLong day?â
âDraining too,â he murmurs.Â
âOh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!â You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building.Â
The dark-haired accepts it and doesnât bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. âYou could give me a kiss.âÂ
âDid you do anything today to earn it?â
âI need to earn my kisses now?â
âYou should shut up sometimes,â you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.
ââ ââ
ââ
â ââ
Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didnât give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives?Â
Youâre not rejecting his advances, but youâre not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who canât even talk to his spouse-
â-Wait!â You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart canât help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.
Stopping to a slide before him, he canât hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, youâre so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.
You donât meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. âYour tie is crooked,â you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. âLet me help you.â
How can he deny such a kind request of yours? Youâre gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldnât care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldnât care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. Thereâs a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and youâre not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy.Â
Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. âThere. All done.âÂ
âThank you, dear,â he murmurs.Â
Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that youâll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.
Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning.Â
You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity.Â
Thereâs a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you.Â
âHave a good day at work,â you murmur, barely able to choke the words out.Â
âI will,â he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection.Â
ââ ââ
ââ
â ââ
The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, heâs become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that itâs driving him up the walls of the Fortress.Â
Itâs irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaineâs most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give.Â
You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first.Â
But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.
âIs everything alright?â Wriothesleyâs interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze.Â
You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. âWhy wouldnât they be?â You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.
âDunno. Just double checking.â
âOkay,â you hum softly, nodding. âAre you alright?â
âMe?â How could you switch this up on him so quickly?
âYeah.â
âFine, amazing, just dandy.âÂ
You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide itâs best not to press on. âAlright⌠but if anything is wrong, donât be afraid to tell me.â You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.
Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. Itâd been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food.Â
Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?
Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like youâre on the other side of Teyvat?
ââ ââ
ââ
â ââ
The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldnât possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didnât need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard heâs been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because thereâs a good chance theyâll come earlier than he wants.
Heâs not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for âageingâ. But he knows the problem, and heâll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day.Â
âWelcome home, baby-â your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. âWriothesley?â
He shushes you.
âWhat-â
â-I need this,â he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved.Â
When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You donât question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day.Â
So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way youâre scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he wonât rest peacefully until heâs broken through it.
âWhy have you been so distant lately?â He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.
You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic âpardon?â slips past your lips.
âI said, why have you been so distant lately?â This time, heâs firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles.Â
Itâs silent. You donât have anything to say in response and itâs past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. Thereâs hurt in them but as much as youâd like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end.Â
âIâŚI donât have it in me to tell you,â you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted.Â
âI didnât do anything, did I?â He asks, raising your hand to his cheek.Â
Your voice is quiet when you confess. âIf I said you didnât, Iâd be lying.âÂ
The dark-haired stiffens. âWhat?âÂ
âNothing,â you cough.
âNo, Y/n, be honest with me here.â
âYouâre going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.â Wriothesleyâs heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he canât stop you from feeling this way. âI thought what I did was what you wanted.â Â
âWhich was?âÂ
âSome distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.â
âWhy would I ever want that?â
âI can get overbearing sometimes, and I donât know, just assumed that would annoy you.â
âYouâre not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I wonât judge or think differently of you.âÂ
You sigh. âI⌠I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldnât want me to be around you anymore. I didnât want to drive you away so I, yâknowâŚâ
Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasnât complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you werenât there for the parts that mattered most, and now you canât even bear to look him in the eye.Â
âHoney, please look at me,â his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you.Â
When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you canât feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You canât see the mountains heâd overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You donât know the extent he would go just to win your love.
Itâs a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, itâs that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night.Â
Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesnât know how he can make it up to you.
âYou misunderstand. I wasnât talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,â he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.
You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. âReally?â You ask.
âI would never think otherwise,â he whispers.
As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little.Â
âIâm sorry,â you confess through dying fits of laughter. âI shouldnât have assumed like that, how stupid.â
He shakes his head, âyou have nothing to apologise for, youâre not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.â
You nod, âI will.â
âPromise.â
âI promise.â
âNever ever think that I want to be away from you,â Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. âThat was the worst week of my life.âÂ
âSorry for putting you through all that.â
âStop apologising.â He demands. âJust, no more secrets.âÂ
âI love you, Wriothesley.âÂ
He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. âI love you more.â
A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like heâs trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again.Â
*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol
Š EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#genshin x reader#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley fluff#wriothesley x reader fluff#wriothesley x gn!reader#genshin fluff#genshin x reader fluff
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lolita â cs55
genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature
word count: 14.9k
You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness. Especially the week of his wedding.Â
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god. Â
inspired by this and this !
STOP AND READ:
This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. âLove storiesâ arenât always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) â what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).
cherry here!âŚhi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and iâm gonna do it now: IâM SORRY.Â
She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground.Â
He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.
But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began.Â
Where Paradise met Hell.
-
Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldnât be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.
They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - youâll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew.Â
You liked them older.
Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. Thatâs one prize youâd cheat to win.
And thatâs a story for later.
-
Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it werenât. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasnât much different.
Note; you didnât grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.
And your older sister, Ollie?Â
Well, youâd honestly forgotten you even had one.Â
Some may say that youâre a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.
Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldnât feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good.Â
Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped.Â
âTesoro! Havenât heard your voice in so long.â
Your fatherâs tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.
âPapi, how are you?â
Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.
âIâm busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?â
You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollieâs wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I havenât seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?
You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesnât pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.
âOvviamente. Iâll be there.â
-
Itâs hot as soon as you land. That you didnât miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadnât seen one of those in ages. Heâs nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. Itâs sweet. Makes you feel human.
Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isnât my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isnât. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. Youâre skeptical for a minute, but realize you canât be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.
Still, that didnât stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldnât you grow up with this?
âIâll inform your father that you have arrived safely.â
Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.
Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-
âThat belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.â
Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.
Instantly, youâre hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20âs, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you canât wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didnât fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room.Â
He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on.Â
âI am so, so, sorry.â
Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didnât leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. Heâd be lying if he said you didnât take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume.Â
Inching closer, he waves you off. âI was kidding. My father is well and alive.â You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down.Â
âThatâs not a nice thing to say.â
And heâs surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. âIâm Carlos.â
Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But alsoâŚdark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - itâs something heâs grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.
âNice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?â
Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between.Â
âYou donât know who I am?â You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. âThatâs okay. We havenât met beforeâŚThough you should get to know me since youâre already hereâŚâ
Wait.
âYou know,â he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, âOllie.â
No, no, no.
âItâs so nice to finally meet my fiancĂŠeâs sister.â
Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?
What was so fucking special about her?
Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasnât phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. Youâre here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man.Â
Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlosâ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest.Â
âCome here, tesoro. Iâll show you where youâll be staying.â
The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you.Â
-
It didnât make sense. Part of you knows it never will. Youâve only just met him, but you can tell he mustâve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that.Â
Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze.Â
âHowâs school?â
Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. Thatâs all that should matter. âVery good. Thank you for asking, papi.â
The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming.Â
Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. âWhere do you study?â Spain, you tell him as he beams. âNo way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.â Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain.Â
âWhat do you do for work?â
âHeâs a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,â Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? Heâs about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. âOh, amor, she doesnât know what that is. Sheâs tooâŚyoung.âÂ
You know sheâs trying to make a weak point: youâre only a baby, therefore, you donât compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair.Â
âOf course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.â
Ollieâs face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You canât stop the jealousy burning from within.
âI didnât mean you, Mr. Sainz.â
The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why donât you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. âWhat the fuck do you think youâre doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?â
âI might.â
Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didnât make it this easy to tick her off, then youâd be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. âThis is my wedding; my future husband - so donât fuck that up like everything else youâve ever done.â
You try to pretend as if her words didnât affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.
-
You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, youâre a bit bummed out that you havenât seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities.Â
Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Werenât you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if theyâd just been pinched. âWhere to?â
He takes a seat next to you. âShe said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.â You shake your head, already bored with the idea.
âYou know her,â you tap your head, âForgetful.â
He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. âYou two donât get along, do you?â You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. Weâre sisters. But heâs looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. âYouâre right. I could be wrong.â
It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasnât had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over.Â
âArenât you too busy to be talking to me?â
âNo. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.â
7 years.
Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. âThereâs not much to know, but I can try. Iâm 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though Iâm allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.â He laughs. You canât dance? âUnfortunately, I canât. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.â
âDios mĂoâŚRemind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.â
Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. âI should go,â you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.
âPapi always taught us to greet our elders.â
He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted itâs become. âArenât you too old to be calling him that?â Confused, you tilt your head.
âCalling him wh- Papi?â
He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - heâs smiling again.Â
âForget it. How would I know?â
-
Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasnât flawless.Â
Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.
Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancĂŠeâs of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.
âNot having fun?â
Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. Heâs tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.
âMax,â he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. âThey could get a bit much sometimes.â You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except heâs signed to Red Bull.
âEveryone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?â Itâs a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing heâs heard all night.Â
âItâs a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.â Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights.Â
You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.
âYou know the groom or the bride?â
âBride.â
He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. Heâs Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.
Almost as if heâs shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. âI hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.âÂ
âIt is. Thank you for caring.â
Heâs sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. Youâre in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlosâ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.
âIâm sorry - Iâve probably killed the mood.â
âNo problem, mate. We were just talking.â
He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if youâve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know itâs not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you canât help it.Â
âOllie said itâs best if you went to bed.â You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. âShe - sheâŚJust do as youâre told, please.â
Now youâre bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.
âSee you around?â
âSee you around, Maxie.â
Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought itâd be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.
The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. âSoâŚWhat were you talking about with Max?â
âNothing that should concern you.â
His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. Itâs a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.
âRight. Have a good night.â
-
Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. Itâs just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldnât. It wasnât like he was your boyfriend, after all.Â
So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you werenât near then he wouldnât feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.
Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then CancĂşn - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancĂŠe would come up with a new place.Â
âI know, I know we said that, but itâs changed.â He paces the office, stressed. âCan you please just make it fucking happen?â
âOuch.â
Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. âNeed anything?â He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.
Shaking your head, you walk closer. âYou sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.â Youâre teasing. You had to be.Â
âThat wasnât mean. It's called being straight forward.â
Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, itâs Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke.Â
âWhen was this taken?â
âThe day of our engagement.â
You hum, already setting it back down. You canât help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you.Â
Fuck her, honestly.Â
âWhyâd you propose?â
Heâs thrown off by your question. Heâs expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?
âJesus,â you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - heâs well aware -Â and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. Itâs as if you knew the power you held. âI bet fucking her is a chore.â
Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didnât get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults?Â
He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words.Â
You can tell heâs about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you.Â
Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. âSorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.â
âYou should leave.â
Youâre embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff.Â
âExcuse my manners, Carlos.â
Skipping out the door, heâs left with a single thought.Â
Heâs fucked.Â
-
The next morning, youâre forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didnât matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along.Â
âGo,â Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room.Â
Itâs a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way youâve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you lookâŚolder. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back.Â
Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you.Â
The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsĂŠ Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight.Â
His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete.Â
His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollieâs attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancĂŠ. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. Youâre not bothered by it; donât even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion.Â
Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. Thatâs really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps.Â
âDisgusting,â you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?
âWoah there. Are you okay?â
Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? Iâm a horrible person. Iâm a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law.Â
âWhat are you doing up so late?â
Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. âCan I have one?â He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs.Â
âFirst time?â
âNo. Itâs just been a while.â
Youâre still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns.Â
âI know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?â
And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldnât stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes.Â
His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch thatâs nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly.Â
âYou know what you remind me of?â
You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips.Â
âA Lolita.â
A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You canât recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. Itâs all a haze; a delicious one, too. Youâre falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin.Â
The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.
A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home.Â
-
More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldnât even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it mightâve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce.Â
Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.
âAre you okay?â
Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. Youâre almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up.Â
âWhyâd you do it?â
Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still donât understand, he clicks his tongue.Â
âWhy would you fuck a friend of mine?â
Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you canât deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didnât know what I was doing-
His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.
He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. Itâs embarrassing how wet youâve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello.Â
âIâm sorry he made you feel like that.â
His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips.Â
âHe didnât make me feel anything I haven't before.â
Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He canât stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but heâs too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. Iâm sorry Iâve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didnât think you would care who fucked me or not.
âI-I donât. Itâs just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. Youâre too young for all that.â
âThatâs where youâre wrong.â You narrow your eyes. âIâm wiser than one might think. Iâm mature enough to know who can and canât fuck me the way I like.â Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.
Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling.Â
âTake care, Carlos.â
-
It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.
âYou know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.â
You make a face at his idea. âYeah. No, thank you.â Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. âIâm not here to meet anyone.â
Signhing, he grabs your hands. âCan I ask you something?âÂ
âSure.â
âAre you and CarlosâŚâ Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. âItâs nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.â
The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.
âWhat are we talking about?â
âYour sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,â your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniardâs eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.
âWow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But Iâm confused, boyfriend as in Max?â
Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollieâs eyes twinkle with satisfaction. Youâre dating Max? âOf course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.â
âNo, no, no - I donât think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.â
Shocked at her words, you canât bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other.Â
âMy bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. Weâre lucky youâre not attracted to your own father.â She lets out a sour laugh. âNow, that would be fucked up.â
âThatâs low, Ollie,â you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.
Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular.Â
âThe fuck - Are you crying?â
âWhat do you want?â
She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. âI just want to talk. The way sisters do.â
Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. âSisters? No. Youâre nothing of mine.â Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.
âDo you want to know why I hate you? Youâre so stupid you probably donât even know, but donât worry - thatâs what older sisters are for. Iâll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?â
You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience.Â
But that still didnât make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?
She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away.Â
âI loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?â
We probably shouldnât-
Donât worry. Iâve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.
âYou and himâŚâ
She licks her chapped lips. âWe had barely started dating.âÂ
âI didnât know - I swear to God, I didnât know!â
If you had, you never wouldâve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. Thatâs why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didnât second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.
But now you did.
âI was youngâŚYounger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?â
âWell, Iâm glad we agree on something. You truly donât know anything.â Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. âWhich is why Iâm not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.â
-
Ollieâs words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didnât like.
Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend youâre interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.
âHow are we all doing?â
They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. Heâs the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.
Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.
Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.
âOh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.â
Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. âHow much did you see?â
You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. âOh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!â You bow. âThat much.â
âHow old are you, sweetheart?â The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.
âNot a word of this to Carlos.â
âWhy would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?â
Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. Thatâs enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. âYouâre not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.â
âOh, yeah?â You tilt your head back. âAnd whatâs good for me?â
âIf you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then Iâll just tell him how youâve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, PierreâŚyou name it.â
âHe wonât believe youâŚâ
She laughs sinisterly. âNo, I think he will. I meanâŚYouâve already done it before.â
âHey,â his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniardâs eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. âIs something wrong?â
Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. âNothing, amor. We were just talking.â She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you.Â
âAre you okay?âÂ
Nodding, you grind your teeth together. âYes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.â Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.
âPapi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole âboyfriendâ thing!â
âHe was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.â He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. âWe should probably leave you two alone then.â
Hastily, you nod. âSure.â
-
If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe sheâs some sort of saint, when really, sheâs a wolf in sheep's clothing. Sheâs a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this?Â
You hated her.
You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlosâ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didnât deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.
Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.
âWe didnât know Ollie had a younger sister.â
You smile. âBest well kept secret, right?â The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.
âWell, weâre glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, youâre beautiful. Those eyes!â
âThank you,â you blush.
Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. âThatâs what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!â She turns to her mother. âMamĂĄ! Whatâs that saying? Soulmates look alikeâŚSomething like that, no?â
âBe quiet, Ani,â Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. âExcuse her - she can be a bit invasive.â
âNo problem,â you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.
âLo siento, I donât mean to come off as overbearing. Itâs just that you doâŚâ
Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. âDonât misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! Itâs justâŚyouâre different.â She examines you. âI like you.â
Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?
âI always find you alone.â
You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. âI told you it was my favorite place.âÂ
âAh. I see.âÂ
You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. âNervous?â
âAbout?â
âMarrying a monster.â
He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. âSheâs not that bad, you know.â He glances at you. âOllie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. Sheâs the one who convinced me not to quit racing.â
âYou were thinking of quitting?â
He nods. âItâs not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But sheâŚâ He smiles. âShe helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.â
Itâs a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, youâre thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancĂŠ; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.
Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. Itâs low enough that if you didnât pay close attention, you wouldnât catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow.Â
âWant to dance?â
âI thought you said you didnât know how to.â
âNice memory, old man.â You gently kick some sand towards him. âBut I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.â
Tugging you closer, he hums. âAlright. Only because that's true.â
His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if heâs on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way heâs never felt before. Itâs alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.
âMentirosa.â
âWha- No, Iâm not! Canât dance to save my life.â Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully.Â
The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and heâs hooked. Itâs meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that itâs not. Heâs tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancĂŠeâs little sister. Someone he shouldnât find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didnât talk to any other man that wasnât him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yetâŚ
His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if youâre exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. Itâs better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you donât give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way youâve seen in movies - only better. Heâs hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap.Â
Letting go, he stands there, staggered. Heâs ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think heâs going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.
âGoodnight, Carlos.â
-
Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldnât find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie.Â
He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancĂŠeâs head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely.Â
âGrazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!â
Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your fatherâs shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank youâs, thank youâs and more thank youâs. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, youâre jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. Itâs your turn.
âRight.â Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. âUhâŚWell like my fiancĂŠe said, weâre extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.â A few laughs echo as he continues. âThis means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.â His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. âMany ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with herâŚAnd Iâm here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love isâŚâ His loopy eyes meet yours. âTrue love are the waves that meet the shore.âÂ
He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and thatâs where your nightmare begins.Â
Letâs give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!
The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. Thatâs something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.
Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.
With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesnât take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches.Â
âMaybe Ollieâs younger sister would like to share a few words.â
Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! Thatâs such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.
As he hands you the microphone, he canât stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast.Â
âCiao a tutti.â Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but thereâs not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. âAs some may know, Iâm Ollieâs sisterâŚAnd I could go on forever about how great she is-â You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. âBut I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos SainzâŚWhen I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.âÂ
True, your father laughs. âYouâre kind, respectful, and charmingâŚOllie is one very lucky girl. But thereâs something also sensitive inside of youâŚDespite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the wayâŚâ Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. â...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. UhâŚThank you for making her happy.â Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps.Â
âThat was quite sentimental,â Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. âDonât worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.â
âOh. Yeah.â You pause. âI thought so, too.â
-
Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red.Â
Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.
âBoo!â
âSanta mierda,â you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. âCabrĂłn, you scared me! Warn a girl!â
âFuck - Iâm sorry.â His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.
âYouâre fucked up.â
Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. âCan I have some?â
âNo. Theyâre mine. Grab your own.â
He narrows his eyes. âArenât you on cherry prohibition or something like that?â You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.
âKeep your voice low or papi will disown me!â
He zips his lips as he whispers. âI wonât tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.â
Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. Youâre waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.
Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adamâs Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.
âFucking delicious.â
Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe.Â
âWouldnât you agree?â
âOf cours-s-e.â
Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they werenât as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.
âIs there something in that dirty little mind of yours?â
The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. Thereâs no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action.Â
âIf you need anything Iâll be upstairs.â
Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didnât count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if heâs trying his best to decipher anything you do.
Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.
âDo you-â
âYes,â he whispers. âSince the first day you walked through those doors: yes.â
If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it.Â
His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollieâs, you pull away. Thereâs no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.
âHow about mine?â
He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. Heâs had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you.Â
He was almost scared of touching you again, even though thatâs exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didnât even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.
You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Donât be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.
âLinda, I could never be mean to you.â
Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you werenât wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss.Â
âPlease tell me you did this for me and no one elseâŚâ
âYou know itâs always been for you.â
With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didnât stop you from wanting it, though.
âDonât worry. Iâll prepare you nice and good, cariĂąo.â
His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. âI know, baby, I know,â he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. âOh, come on now. Itâs not even fully inside of you yet.â
Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isnât. You almost cry out when you notice itâs barely even the tip. âI donât think itâs going to fit.â He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out.Â
âLetâs start off with something else then.â
You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place.Â
âDo you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?â
âYes.â
His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. âYouâre going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.â Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck.Â
Then itâs almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but youâre too fucked out to even care. Youâre sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria.Â
âYes. Oh. Fuck, yes.â Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And thatâs enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.
And that was only going to multiply.
âYou taste so fucking sweet,â he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. âCan you handle my fingers, now?â
No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows youâre giving up too soon. He knows thereâs an animal inside of you and heâs just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. âHey, hey, I got you, cariĂąo. Iâm right here.âÂ
His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? âYes,â you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.
âThere she isâŚGood girl. Justo asi.â
Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8âs as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.
He adds a fourth digit.
âNo, no, no,â you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride.Â
âAh, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?â
He didnât need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax.Â
Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal heâs dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. Youâre sure heâs going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.
This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasnât even listening.Â
Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.
Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.
Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.
Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.
His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. Itâs a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser.Â
Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.
The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didnât want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesnât dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.
Light of my life. Fire of my loins.
Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didnât mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips.Â
âQue linda. Arrodillada como una santa.â
When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesnât want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release.Â
Then thereâs you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if youâve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, youâre struggling, but that only makes him harder. Youâre trying to keep up with him and itâs working. Now, itâs like heâs the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more.Â
Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.
âFuck,â he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths.Â
âWill you fuck me now?âÂ
Youâre moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.
âYouâre a dirty girl, you know that?â
âI thought thatâs what you liked about me, papi.â
In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.
âThen you should be fucked as such.â
With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.
First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - thatâs all you really knew - but no oneâs cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. Heâs reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.
Iâve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. Iâm right here.
Still, you canât help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.
âOh God.â
Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.
âMierda,â he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment.Â
Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: heâs proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. Heâs looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets.Â
The keys for the gate to Heaven.
Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But thatâs the least of his worries.
âDoes that feel good, bonita?âÂ
Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if heâs been out in the sun for hours.Â
In this moment; he looked immortal.
âCarlos, Iâm gonna-â
âHold it.â
Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Donât ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. âI know you can do it,â - thrust - âWait for me, yeah?â
You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear.Â
He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.
âAlright, linda-â He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. âCum for me?â
Itâs an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex.Â
Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.
He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. âGet some sleep.â Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesnât know what takes over him when he says-
âI will.â
-
When you wake up you notice itâs still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed.Â
âOllie,â he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. â...I made a mistake.â
Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. Sheâs just a kidâŚFuck. Sheâs just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You werenât a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize youâre crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure youâre okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.
âWhere are you? Let me just see you, amor. Iâll explain it all.â
-
Thereâs a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.
You would personally like to punch that person in the face. Itâs not true. It doesnât beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-
âYou may now kiss the bride!â
Everyoneâs faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You canât be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.
You donât know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didnât know about you the same way he didnât know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But itâs very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.
âNice ceremony.â
âWhat? Oh.â You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. âY-yeah. It wasâŚâ
He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. âYou fell in love with him, didnât you?â
âI-I-Iâm not sure I understand,â you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.
âItâs okay. I wonât tell anyone.â
Walking away, youâre left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldnât they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right?Â
The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. Youâre in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Maxâs concerned eyes ask if youâre okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.
Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. âHave you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.â Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. âThis is weird. Sorry. Iâm just soâŚhappy.âÂ
âGood to know.â
âBut enough about me!â She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. âI want to talk about you! Howâs school?â
âLike you care.â
She pouts. âI do nowâŚâ You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. âOh, you poor thing! You donât know I know!â Your stomach drops. âWell, you know, as your older sister, Iâm also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after youâŚAnd a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.â She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. âDoesnât surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.â
âWhat does this have to do with anything?â
Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed youâve become. âCarlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And letâs just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.â
No.
âAnd well this birdie also told me how youâve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonderâŚWhat have you and him been doing behind closed doors?â
It canât be.Â
Professor VĂĄzquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.
Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlosâ extended one. Ollieâs eyes shine. âI see itâs clicking.â
âWhat do you want from me?â
âI want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Donât look back; just leave. Donât contact papi ever again. I donât want to hear a single thing from you. Itâs bad enough youâve already fucked my spouse.â
She knows. He told her. And they still got married.Â
âOllie, donâtâŚâ
Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you donât know how, but in it, itâs a video of you riding your Professor - Carlosâ cousin.
âLeave or Iâll show this to him. Your choice.â
Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?
âOllie, pleaseâŚI love him.â
Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. âYou know what to do.â
Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if youâre okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by.Â
Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasnât going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didnât even know he had. Iâll get her expelled. Donât do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. Itâs what I wish someone had done for me.
You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.
âCarlosâŚI love you.â He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didnât care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesnât seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. âSave me a dance, yeah?âÂ
Then, youâre walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-IâŚI.
âCarlos!â
Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake.Â
âComing.â
-
Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesnât find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.
âÂżBonita?â
Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldnât he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?
Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists.Â
As red as your dress.
He must be dreaming. This canât be real. Surely, it canât.
âNo, no, no.â He drags your limp body into his arms. He canât even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. âBonita, no. No. No. No.â The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. âHey, hey. Â Câmon, please. You want me to say it?â Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped theyâve become.
âIt doesnât feel forced. Iâm not saying it because I think itâs what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my nameâŚI love you.âÂ
But he knew you werenât listening. Not anymore.Â
A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. Heâs out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene.Â
None of it mattered anymore.
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Drunk in love
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader
Summary: When their wives get drunk, it is up to the Bridgerton brothers to take care of them ;)
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Kate and reader are drunk lol, just pure fluff
A/N:
this is just something silly I had in my mind lol enjoy
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
The Bridgerton household was steeped in the soft glow of the evening, and in the library, two brothers sat comfortably. Benedict Bridgerton leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips as he listened to Anthony's latest tirade about the complexities of running the family estate. The occasional crackle of the fire punctuated Anthonyâs words, creating a comforting backdrop to their conversation.
"It's all well and good for you, Benedict," Anthony was saying, "to prance about with your paints and canvases. But someone has to keep this family afloat."
Benedict chuckled, shaking his head. "You take life far too seriously, Anthony. One day, you'll realize there's more to it than ledgers and land."
Before Anthony could retort, a burst of laughter erupted from the drawing room, loud enough to make both men pause. They exchanged curious glances, and without a word, rose to investigate the source of the commotion.
As they approached the drawing room, the laughter grew louder and more infectious. Pushing the door open, they were met with a sight that brought simultaneous smiles and sighs to their faces. There, amidst a sea of discarded shawls and half-empty wine glasses, were their wives: Y/N and Kate, draped over the settee in fits of giggles.
"My love," Benedict began, striding over to Y/N, who looked up at him with sparkling, mischievous eyes.
"Ben!" Y/N exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "Have you come to join our party?"
Anthony moved to Kate, who was similarly animated, her cheeks flushed with wine. "What on earth is going on here?" he asked, unable to keep a smile from his lips.
"We were just... having a bit of fun," Kate replied, her words slightly slurred. "Isn't that right, Y/N?"
Y/N nodded enthusiastically, her grip on Benedict tightening. "Yes! And you should have been here, Benedict. We were planning all sorts of adventures!"
Benedict exchanged a knowing look with Anthony. "It's getting late," he said gently. "Perhaps it's time to retire for the night before we wake the whole household."
"But weâre not tired!" Kate protested, though she yawned right after.
"Yes!" Y/N said eagerly. " We have work to do. We need to save the pirates!"
Benedict looked at Anthony with a confused look on his face, not understanding a word his wife is saying.
"The pirates? What pirates?" He asked his wife.
"Silly Benedict, the pirates that got captured of course! If we don't help them they will die or worse, catch a cold." Kate said to her brother-in-law while slurring the words, indicating that the night was surely over for the 2 ladies.
With a mixture of gentle coaxing and persuasive charm, Benedict and Anthony managed to guide their wives towards the staircase, their efforts accompanied by more giggles and shushing noises. Y/N and Kate were like a pair of mischievous schoolgirls, clutching each other for support as they swayed precariously.
"Shhh, we must be quiet!" Kate whispered loudly, her finger pressed to Y/N's lips.
"Yes, shhh!" Y/N echoed, though her laughter threatened to spill over.
Benedict exchanged an amused glance with Anthony. "Easier said than done," he muttered, placing a steadying hand on Y/N's waist.
The trek upstairs was a comedic parade of whispered laughter and shuffling feet. Y/N, in her drunken state, decided it was a brilliant idea to try walking on her tiptoes to avoid making noise. She stumbled, her giggles turning into a high-pitched squeal as Benedict caught her just in time.
"My hero," she declared, leaning heavily against him.
"Always," Benedict replied, his voice filled with warmth.
Meanwhile, Anthony had his hands full with Kate, who seemed determined to recount an elaborate and entirely fictitious tale about their latest adventure. "And then the pirate said, 'No, it's my treasure!' and I told him, 'You can have it, but only if you dance a jig!'"
Anthony shook his head, suppressing his laughter. "Let's get you to bed, love. You can tell me the rest of the story tomorrow."
As they finally reached the top of the stairs, the brothers carefully navigated their wives down the hall to their respective bedrooms. Y/N clung to Benedict, her fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt.
"Do you know what we should do, Ben?" she whispered, her voice conspiratorial. "We should have our own little party. Just you and me."
Benedict raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is that so?"
Y/N nodded, her movements exaggerated by the effects of the wine. "Yes. And I have... ideas." She bit her lip, trying to look sexy for her husband but failing miserably.
Benedict couldn't help but laugh softly at her earnest expression. "I'm sure you do, darling. But I think you might regret them in the morning."
She pouted, leaning in closer. "You're laughing at me," she accused, though her own lips twitched upwards.
"Never," Benedict said, kissing her forehead. "I just find you utterly adorable."
Y/Nâs pout deepened. "Iâm trying to seduce you, Benedict Bridgerton, and youâre laughing."
Benedict wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "And I love you for it," he murmured. "But youâre far too drunk to remember this tomorrow."
Y/N huffed, but her eyelids were already drooping. "Fine. But you owe me, mister."
"Iâll gladly pay my dues," he promised, tucking her under the covers, making sure she was comfortable.
Once the bedroom doors softly clicked shut behind them, Benedict and Anthony exchanged amused glances, their expressions a mix of fond exasperation and lingering mirth.
Anthony let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "Well, that was certainly an eventful evening."
Benedict grinned, running a hand through his hair. "Indeed. I never knew Y/N had such a penchant for dramatic declarations."
"And Kate," Anthony added with a raised eyebrow, "tyring to save pirates? I wonder where she comes up with these ideas."
Benedict chuckled softly, moving to pour himself a glass of water. "Itâs all part of their charm, I suppose. Makes life interesting."
Anthony nodded thoughtfully, leaning against the dresser. "Indeed it does. They certainly keep us on our toes."
Silence settled between them for a moment, the sounds of the quiet house filling the space. Benedict took a sip of water, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at Anthony. "At least they provided us with some entertainment."
Anthony grinned, raising his glass in a mock toast. "To our adventurous wives and the mornings after."
Benedict laughed, clinking his glass against Anthony's. "May we always be prepared for their antics."
The next morning, the dining room was a scene of quiet activity as the Bridgerton family gathered for breakfast. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the table laden with a variety of morning fare. Benedict and Anthony were already seated, exchanging knowing glances as they sipped their coffee.
"Good morning," Anthony greeted with a wry smile, his voice a bit too cheerful as Kate and Y/N finally made their way downstairs. The two women looked thoroughly sheepish, their faces pale and their movements slow, battling clear signs of a hangover.
Kate, with a hand on her throbbing head, groaned softly as she took her seat. "Please. Not so loud, Anthony," she muttered, reaching for a slice of toast but ultimately settling for a glass of water.
Y/N, trailing slightly behind, sat down next to Benedict, doing her best to avoid his amused gaze. "Good morning," she mumbled, her voice hoarse, reaching for a cup of tea as if it were a lifeline.
Benedict leaned over, a smirk playing on his lips as he whispered in her ear, "Howâs your head, my love?"
She shot him a sideways glance, her cheeks coloring. "Letâs not talk about it," she replied, taking a tentative sip of her tea.
"But you were quite the charming seductress last night," Benedict teased gently, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning softly. "Iâm never drinking that much again."
At the other end of the table, Kate was having a similar conversation with Anthony. "Honestly, I can't remember the last time I felt this awful," she confessed, gingerly rubbing her temples.
Anthony chuckled, passing her a plate of fruit. "Perhaps next time youâll heed my warnings about overindulgence."
Kate shot him a baleful look, but there was a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. "Donât be smug, Anthony. Itâs not becoming."
"Who, me? Never," Anthony replied with a wink, earning a soft laugh from Kate despite her discomfort.
As the morning continued, the initial awkwardness began to fade, replaced by the comforting normalcy of family life. Eloise and Colin entered the room, their curiosity piqued by the unusual quietness of their typically lively sisters-in-law.
"Good morning," Eloise said brightly, her keen eyes darting between Kate and Y/N. "You two look like youâve been through the wars."
"Something like that," Y/N muttered, managing a small, embarrassed smile.
Colin, always one for humor, grinned broadly. "Did we miss an adventure last night?"
"Letâs just say it was a night to remember," Benedict replied, his eyes meeting Y/Nâs with a tender affection that spoke volumes.
Eloise raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Do tell."
"Another time, perhaps," Y/N said quickly, the color rising in her cheeks again.
As the conversation flowed around the table, the bonds of love and laughter only grew stronger. Despite their mortification, Y/N and Kate couldnât help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for their husbandsâ gentle teasing and unwavering support.
"Do you remember anything from last night?" Benedict asked Y/N, his tone light but with a hint of curiosity.
Y/N took a deep breath, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. "Bits and pieces," she admitted. "I remember laughing a lot. And I think I tried to..." She trailed off, her cheeks flushing.
Benedict chuckled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "You were very determined to have a private party," he said, his eyes twinkling. "It was quite the spectacle."
Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Iâm so embarrassed."
"Don't be," Benedict said softly, leaning closer. "I love seeing every side of you, even the tipsy, adventurous one."
At the other end of the table, Kate was facing a similar interrogation. "So, what exactly were you and Y/N plotting in the drawing room?" Anthony asked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.
Kate looked mortified, her face pale except for the flush of her cheeks. "I think we were planning an expedition to find some pirate treasure," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Or something equally ridiculous."
Anthony laughed, the sound rich and warm. "You certainly had quite the adventure in mind. Perhaps we should consider a career change?"
"Very funny," Kate muttered, though she couldnât help but smile at his good-natured teasing.
The rest of the family, picking up on the mood, joined in the light-hearted banter. Colin leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "It seems our sisters-in-law have a penchant for late-night escapades. We'll have to keep an eye on them."
Eloise, never one to miss a chance to tease, added, "I think itâs wonderful. We could use more excitement around here. Perhaps next time, I'll join in the fun."
"Absolutely not," Anthony interjected firmly, though his smile betrayed his true feelings. "Two tipsy adventurers are quite enough."
Amidst the laughter and teasing, the lingering embarrassment began to fade. Y/N and Kate, though still feeling the effects of their overindulgence, found themselves relaxing, their initial mortification replaced by a growing sense of comfort. The warmth and acceptance from their family wrapped around them like a cozy blanket, reinforcing the love that bound them all together.
#benedict x reader#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton family#benedict bridgerton x fem!reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton season 3#anthony bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#colin bridgerton#kate sharma#anthony x kate
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⸝ É â FOR YOU AND YOU ONLY â
them buying gifts for you ďšďšwind breaker boys âĄ
ęˇęŚ pairings: hajime umemiya, jo togame, ren kaji, akihiko nirei, hayato suo, haruka sakura, toma hiragi, kyotaro sugishita x gn. reader (separate)
HAJIME UMEMIYA | ć˘
厎 ä¸ â ⌠. âşÂ âĄ
A man who goes all out for occasions such as this, but not with the typical pricey gifts and extravagant items many might initially suggest. Instead, UMEMIYA chooses something somewhat whimsical, to the surprise of everyone and, at the same time, no one.
He dives headfirst into his garden, tending to plants with the same care and attention most people reserve for rare jewels. Why? Because in his eyes, nothing says "I love you" quite like a potted fern or a blooming orchid that heâs nurtured from a seedling and shoved into your arms. On various occasions when you would visit Furin, you would, to your surprise, unexpectedly catch your boyfriend with dirt under his nails and a triumphant grin on his face, presenting you with a beautifully grown plant.
"I grew this just for you!" he declares, utterly beaming with pride and happiness. "Don't you like it?!"
You laughed. Of course you did. It's why you fell in love with him, after all. It was like having a child in a teenage guyâs body. Of course, Umemiya loves to spoil you in other ways, too. If you were to ask him for anything, you would get it within a day. You ask, and you shall receive. He's all about giving you little thoughtful gifts on the daily and showering you with attentionâhis clinginess almost feels like a gift in itself, if you could call that so.
Still, he understands that material items and grand gestures only go so far. A cliche, yes, but regardless, Umemiya's gifts are not just plantsâit's the love he pours into every small, thoughtful act. When he hands you a plant, it's not just a simple gift. It's a piece of his heart, cultivated and grown with you in mind. Some might say heâs overdoing it when he shows up with yet another rare flower or exotic herb, all the while practically suffocating you physically with all his affection as the others, like Hiragi, watch with either deadpan faces or in true horror like Nirei, the poor guy can never catch a break. Perhaps he is, but in Umemiya's eyes, showing his true love is never overdoing it. Never to you.
JO TOGAME | ĺäş ćĄ â ⌠. âşÂ âĄ
Get yourself someone like TOGAME who pays attention to the little things. Not to say that the others donât, but thereâs just something about Togame that makes you feel truly seen at all times, even if he does initially seem like his mind is off in another dimension. At first glance, Togame might initally appear aloof, his eyes blank and glazed over as if he's contemplating the philosophy of life or trying to recall if he left the stove on when he left home that day.Â
Heâs got that spaced-out look, constantly unfocused and seemingly lost in his own world. But donât let that fool youâdespite that continually distracted look of his, lies a man who notices and knows everything about you. Never in a creepy way, of course. Because beneath that absent-minded exterior is a man who catches all the little details. Togame remembers your offhand comments, the fleeting glances you cast at little things that catch your eye, and even the snacks you like to munch on during your and his late-night at-home dates together. Itâs almost comedic how he can be so scatterbrained one moment and then present you with a gift thatâs so spot-on it feels like he read your mind.
Itâs impressive and a little baffling to see just how attentive he is. Heâll hand you a beautifully wrapped present and, with a nonchalant shrug, say, âI noticed you were eyeing this the other day.â Meanwhile, youâre left wondering when he even managed to notice, considering he now seemed wholly engrossed in staring at a cloudâbut in reality, all he looks at is you and only you.
REN KAJI | ć˘śčŽ â ⌠. âşÂ âĄ
At first, KAJI may appear to know what he's doing, giving off an air of confidence and exuding an aura so convincing that even his own friends believe he's got everything under control and that Kaji had the perfect gift planned out for you. But, oh, if only they knew. Because internally, it is anything but controlled. Kaji is a frantic mess from head to toe and is just barely holding it together. For Christ's sake, Nirei one time even found the second year furiously muttering and cursing out a cluster of innocent plants on the school field, seemingly at being useless sacks of leaves.
Nirei would never understand quite why that happened, nor did he bother to ask, in fear of his potential demise by doing so...
Regardless, Kaji meticulously plans, second-guesses himself, and agonizes over every decision, to the point where multiple times, he would take off his headphones in the hopes of finding total concentration and that maybe, just maybe, an idea would hit him. Spoiler, it doesn't. It was a strategy that only ended in disaster. The sight is almost comicalâKaji, usually so composed, reduced to a bundle of nerves as he tries to decide if youâd prefer a handmade card or a store-bought one. Eventually, he abandons both the plants and his failed attempts at making a DIY gift of his own, pivoting to something thatâs more âhim.âÂ
After all his frantic efforts and internal chaos, he sheepishly presents you with a handmade mixtape, carefully curated with songs that remind him of you and your time together. Each track is selected with care, and when he finally presents it, his nerves are palpable. Any kind of reaction that wasn't disgust, he would be happy with. Unbeknownst to even himself. However, your first reaction to receiving it was to immediately embrace him. It's a gift that speaks volumes, even if he struggles to express it in words. A blend of his love for music and his love for you. Because beneath his aloof exterior, and despite the chaos behind the scenes, lies a heart that beats just for you and you alone.
AKIHIKO NIREI | 漥äşç§ĺ˝Ś â ⌠. âşÂ âĄ
Enter NIREI, the human encyclopedia of your life, with a notebook thicker than a brick and more detailed than your school textbooks. Nirei probably has anything and everything you've ever said written down in his notebook. His meticulous, borderline frantic nature means he doesn't miss a single detail, capturing every word you utter with precision, whether you genuinely meant it or not. Seriously, the guy probably has a section dedicated to your favourite foods alone.Â
Heâs constantly with a notebook in hand, furiously scribbling down every passing comment, no matter how trivial. To him, it's better to be safe than sorryâafter all, he canât afford to disappoint you, not when he's committed to being your personal mind reader, one way or another. In fact, it would come to the surprise of no one if Nirei had an entire 500-page notebook dedicated solely to you, complete with tabs, colour-coded highlights, and footnotes.
And those who do find out about this "notebook" and read through even just the first page are utterly deadpan at just how smitten Nirei was for you. The hearts in his eyes practically say it all. His dedication to cataloguing your every whim and fancy might seem a tad extreme to the common folk, but to Nirei, it's all in the name of ensuring your happiness. And when he does present you with a gift, it feels almost magical, as if he's read your mind. Sure, itâs a bit unnerving to know that he probably knows your cafe order better than you do, but hey, at least youâll never have to worry about forgetting your preferences. It's more than just a gesture, his careful attention to detail makes every gift a meaningful token of his affection. With Nirei by your side, it's like having your very own walking, talking wishlist. Even if Nirei isn't strong physicallyâhe can't fight like everybody else in Furinâhis meticulous planning and thoughtfulness show just how far he's willing to go in order to make you happy.
HAYATO SUO | čć éźéŁ  â ⌠. âşÂ âĄ
Now, letâs talk about SUO, Furin's resident memory master. Unlike Nirei, who hoards notebooks like a squirrel hoards acorns, Suo relies solely on the immense storage capacity of his brain to keep track of every single detail about you, retaining it all in his memory alone.
His mind is like a steel trap, capturing every little detail about you, his significant other. He can effortlessly recall every conversation, shared moment, and quirky little habit you have and stores it in his memory, all the while keeping it secret behind that enigmatic smile of his. He's a mysterious man, even to you, but you can always tell his intentions are pure, no matter how initially suspicious he may be.
Some might call it borderline telepathic, but to Suo, itâs all just part of being deeply devoted to you in his own way. When he comes to you with a perfectly timed gift, itâs not because heâs some kind of mind reader (although it sometimes does feel that way). Itâs simply because youâre the most important thing in his world, and heâll do whatever it takes to make you happy, even if it means sacrificing a little extra brain space for the causeâas if thatâs even troubling to him. Gifts from Suo are always a surprise, even to you. He hides things incredibly well without you knowing a thing. But it's not without a touch of mischief, considering all the pranks and teases he often likes to pull. You frequently find yourself asking him, "How did you even know I wanted this?" only for him to aloofly reply with a cryptic smile or an offhanded comment.
"Oh wow, Hayato, how did you know I wanted this?!"
"Oh, I just happened to notice when I saw how your face lit up at the sight of it the other day."
"I- wha- âŚyou got it from just noticing my reactions?"
"Of course! Who would I be if I didn't notice such a thing from my significant other?"
"A stalker..."
"Now now, don't be like that!"
HARUKA SAKURA | ćĄ éĽ â ⌠. âşÂ âĄ
Anyone and everyone with ears that day who are unlucky enough to cross paths with SAKURA that day would no longer be the same after getting a panicked earful from his guy. Just imagine him, frantically running around like a chicken with its head cut off, who turns gift-giving into a mission worthy of a military operation, and that is Sakura Haruka.Â
Heâs the guy who interrogates his friends about what to get you, practically hosting a roundtable discussion as he frantically brainstorms the perfect gift. Picture him pacing back and forth, sweating bullets, and badgering everyone in sight for advice. He consults everyone he knows, hoping to find some idea of the ideal present that will light up the smile on your faceâone that he has grown to love and cherish. Sakura's desperation knows no bounds; he's calling up acquaintances he hasnât even bothered to speak to until now, just to get their input on this seemingly not-important dilemma. But once the dusk settles and he's had a moment to gather his thoughts, Sakura is the one to make the final call.Â
And in the end, he gets you a gift that is perfect and oh-so-thoughtful. The effort he puts into his choice shows just how much he cherishes you in his life and will continue to do so. It's not just a gift; it's a heartfelt expression of his love, chosen all with the intention of making you smile. Though he will never admit to you how long it actually took for him to get that singular gift for you. Not even on his grave.
TOMA HIRAGI | ćçťéŚŹ  â ⌠. âşÂ âĄ
Poor HIRAGI, who, at first, dives headfirst into the idea of gift-giving with all the enthusiasm in the world. He's got that determined look in his eyesâa look enough to scare off any middle-schooler within a mileâready to craft the perfect present for you. Fast forward a few hours, and heâs surrounded by a chaotic mess of craft supplies, looking at his creation with dawning horror. Realization hits him like a pound of bricks. The gift is utter garbage, something youâd never like... Hiragi first tries to salvage it, maybe gluing on a few more sparkles or attaching a heartfelt note, but deep down, he knows itâs a lost cause.
His mind goes into overdrive, perhaps popping more than a few nerve pills into his mouth as he hurriedly rethinks his plan, determined to make things right. In a moment of panic, Hiragi scrambles to come up with something better. His mind races, and he quickly pivots to Plan B. He ditches the failed craft project and decides to give you something far more meaningfulâa date, an entire day planned around your favourite activities.
From a breakfast at your favourite cafe to a scenic walk in the park with an amazing view of the sunset, followed by a movie marathon of your beloved films, this time, he is confident. Hiragi pours his heart into creating an experience rather than a physical gift. It's a corny move, sure, but his dedication to making you happy is what ultimately shines through. Your happiness is the true present Hiragi strives to provide and cherish with all his heart. Ultimately, it's not the material items that matter but the love and effort he puts into spending time with you. His actions speak louder than any physical gift ever could.
KYOTARO SUGISHITA | ćä¸äşŹĺ¤Şé  â ⌠. âşÂ âĄ
To him, this was something not to be taken lightly. Thus, his plan was put into motion. SUGISHITA's quest to ensure perfection involves quiet observation that borders on creepy, with intense staring sessions that would make even the most seasoned blush just to get the perfect gift for you. You can practically feel his eyes boring into you as he notes your likes and dislikes, all while maintaining an innocent facadeâat least, in his eyes. From your perspective, you beg to differ, but you let him have his moment. Through this, Sugishita tries to gather intel on your favourite foods, movies, and even the type of socks you prefer. His dedication to the art of gift-giving is both impressive and slightly unnerving, but hey, itâs all in the name of love, right?
And when he finally presents you with a gift, it's like he's unveiling some kind of masterpiece he's been working on for months. And in a way, he has been. Even when you know what he has been doing all this time, your heart still melts. Tears fall, and all Sugishita does is frantically comfort you in the best way he knows howâwhich isnât saying much, but hey, he's trying his best. He may not wear his heart on his sleeve, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. His methods might be a tad unconventional, but there's no denying the thought and effort he puts into making you happy. After all, who needs words when you have Sugishita's silent but effective gestures of love? His silence all but screams his genuine heart for you. Because each time he's with you, he feels comfortable in your presence, no matter what, without ever needing to say a word.
EXTRAS
CHOJI TOMIYAMA | ĺ
čłĺąą ä¸ĺ â ⌠. âşÂ âĄ
Hmmm, his gift for you?
It's him, of course!Â
âŚDonât give him that look.Â
Šhxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.
#wind breaker#windbreaker#wind breaker x reader#windbreaker x reader#wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader#wind breaker x y/n#wind breaker headcanons#wind breaker fluff#wind breaker drabbles#hajime umemiya#akihiko nirei#jo togame#ren kaji#hayato suo#haruka sakura#toma hiragi#kyotaro sugishita#choji tomiyama#hajime umemiya x reader#jo togame x reader#sakura haruka x reader#hayato suo x reader#ren kaji x reader#toma hiragi x reader#choji tomiyama x reader#akihiko nirei x reader
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Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Jokes
1 | 2 | 3
Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost
Toriel stops by Sans' shop for some goods, and for some more cheery distractions! Unfortunately, all this time later, it's still too difficult to escape reminders of what's been done.
It was fun finally getting to do some stuff with Sans in this universe! The last part for this trio of scenes will be up sometime next week!
Alt text for these pages is under the read more:
Page 1 Panel 1: Interior shot of a small store, with displays of goods, loose plywood, sacks of things. Two circular woven hangings bracket the door through which Toriel enters, a heavyset woman in a polka-dotted dress with a basket over her arm. Sans watches her enter, though we see only the back of his head.Â
Panel 2: Toriel enters the shop and we see more displays, mostly food. There are large potted trees as well, and the shopâs counter, draped in patterned cloth and decorated with candles. Toriel: âWell, hello again. I was wondering if you had-â Sans, a jovial, bearded man dressed in loose robes and always smiling, waves a hand and cuts her off. âHold on, you hear that?â
Panel 3: â...Hear what?â Toriel asks, nonplussed. Up close, her face is soft but distressed.
Panel 4: Sans leans over his slightly messy counter, still grinning. âI HERB that you needed some more cinnamon cloves, and look what I have here!â He offers a handful of herbs. Up close, the cuffs on his robe sleeves are patterned with little bones. Â
Panel 5: âJust what I needed! How did you guess?â Toriel exclaims, reaching out with a real smile to accept the herbs. She and Sans are framed by other mysterious shop wares- jars of things, open sacks, rolled-up mats. Things you might find in an open-air desert market.Â
Page 2 Panel 1: Sans: âWas just thinking itâd been awhile since I saw you making the neighborhood rounds with some of those pies of yours⌠Figured you were planning to start this monthâs soon!â Sans gestures up at Toriel in explanation.Â
Panel 2: Toriel smirks, setting down a handful of coins. âAnd perhaps hoping that I would stop by your place first with them?â Sans: âI pride myself on my forward thinking, yâknow.â His grin is conspiratorial as he leans towards her and he taps his temple with one finger.Â
Panel 3: Toriel, eyes sad despite her smile: âAll right. How about this: Tell me a good joke, and you have my word you will have the first and freshest one.â
Panel 4: Sans: âJust a good joke?â He raises an eyebrow.Â
Panel 5: Toriel clutches her chest- we donât see her eyes. âI find myself in desperate need of levity these days.âÂ
Panel 6: Sans waves his hand as if to keep her from feeling like she need say more, scratching his chin in thought with the other. âSure, I got oneâŚâÂ
Page 3 Panel 1: Sans, with the smug grin of someone about to tell a terrible pun: âWhy was the empire soldier happy to get demoted to horse groomer?â Toriel, with her hand on her chin in thought: âI do not know, why?âÂ
Panel 2: Sans shrugs widely like the answer is obvious. âBecause he finally had STABLE employment!âÂ
Panel 3: Toriel laughs in genuine delight, although maybe a little harder than expected.Â
Panel 4: Toriel: âThank you, I needed that.â She smiles a relieved little smile. Sans: âNo problem. So hey, aside from the pie⌠Can I maybe get an invite to those little get-togethers I see some folks around here doing once a month?â He steeples his fingertips together.Â
Panel 5: Sanâs dialogue continues: âIâm so curious as to what goes on then!â We only see Toriel, though, shocked and dismayed. Sheâs thinking of the Ritual gatherings- townspeople gathered in their robes and animal masks- reindeer, fish, but most centrally, the goat masks she and Asgore wear.Â
Panel 6: Toriel: âUnless you are completely enraptured by tedious talk of planting schedules and building repairs, I believe I can sate your curiosity by saying you would find them quite boring.â She waves a hand in front of her, dismissing the thought- her expression is once again drawn and weary.Â
Page 4 Panel 1: Toriel turns to leave, waving goodbye. âYou should look forward to your well-earned pie more!âÂ
Panel 2: Sans gives her a slightly skeptical look. âAlright.â is all he says.Â
Panel 3: As she leaves, Toriel looks down and sees for the first time a small statue set by the door, surrounded by candles- itâs not a merchandise display, more like an altar. The statue is a horned figure holding a bowl filled with greenery- an offering of some type. The figure is rounded like a sitting child, and simple, with closed eyes and little other detail.Â
Panel 4: Torielâs dialogue over a close up shot of the figure: âWhat an interesting little figure you have. It does not look like it is for sale, is it?â The little horned one has three toes and four fingers on its stubby little arms and legs, and a detail on its forehead that could be a suggestion of hair, or it could be a symbol. The pillar candles surrounding it have been burned enough to have long wax drips pooled around them.Â
Panel 5: Sans: âNah, thatâs just a holdover from my home country. Supposed to help keep demons out of your space.â He seems uninterested in this bit of lore, but Toriel, still facing away, is wide-eyed and shaken.
Panel 6: Toriel whirls back to him, sweating. âI-Is that so?âÂ
Panel 7: Sansâs expression intensifies, eyebrows dropping dramatically. âSure thing. You know what happens when demons get in your grain stores?âÂ
Page 5 Panel 1: âTheyâre OATsolutely RYE-ined!â Sans holds his hands wide, like heâs waiting for the rimshot effect. Itâs almost like his shop counter and back wall are suddenly a stage.Â
Panel 2: Toriel hides a giggle behind her hand, relieved.Â
Panel 3: âIs that something you have had to deal with previously?â she asks, stepping a little closer in her interest. Sans makes a slight gesture of dismissal. âNah, I donât really go in for that sort of stuff, honestly.â
Panel 4: Sans: âMy brother, though⌠Heâs all in on charms and wards and that sort of thing.â He gestures up, as if to point to wherever it is in the town that his brother might be now.Â
Panel 5: âKeeping customs from your home country, I suppose?â Toriel asks, drawn again into the shop and closer to Sans. âSomething like that,â he responds, leaning forward on his counter. On the wall next to him, thereâs another woven wall hanging like the ones over the door. Toriel: âDo you have any customs that have a reverse effect?âÂ
Panel 6: Sans looks as skeptical as one can while constantly grinning. âYou mean like, if you want demons in your house?âÂ
Page 6 Panel 1: Toriel puts a hand up in denial. âN-No, that would obviously be undesirable! I meant more⌠just out of curiosity about your home.âÂ
Panel 2: Sans stares up at her, for a beat of silence.Â
Panel 3: âMaybe? Again, this stuff isnât my thing.â He leans back in his chair with his hands behind his head, nonchalant as can be. âAnd anyways, we left our country for a reason. Old customs arenât relevant in this town, yâknow?âÂ
Panel 4: Toriel once again turns to go, with a rueful smile. âMaybe not⌠but I cannot imagine letting go of your entire history.â
Panel 5: Sans shrugs and looks away. âThereâs worse things to let go of, honestly.âÂ
Panel 6: Toriel, gritting her teeth, thinks of a happier time tucking Kris into bed.Â
Panel 7: Close on Torielâs expression, now more haggard and pained than it was when she came in. She clutches her chest tight.Â
#lynx art#eldritchrune#deltarune au#toriel#sans#gosh I'm so nervous about trying to get their dialogue right#accounting for universe differences and all that#but I'm at least happy with Sans' grain stores joke#Sans doesn't know...he just has suspicions!
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hi! i just remembered a scene from friends where chandler says to monica it's ok she's high maintenance cause he likes maintaining her and i think this is soooo spencer and bombshell!reader coded. you're ok with writing this as a request? love u jadey
ty (ily)!! fem!reader
Spencerâs feet ache dully with each step he takes, but you have your hand in his, and youâre pulling him along with a smile. Your smile could cure anything, he thinks stupidly. Itâs completely outside of his beliefs, goes against every book on medicine heâs ever read.Â
âWhy are you frowning?â you ask, swinging his hand as you turn the corner together.Â
âIâm not.âÂ
You step closer, arm stuck to his arm, nearly one body walking together against the summer breeze. âYouâre frowning, Spence. You have a very obvious pout. It is so so cute.â You lean in to kiss him quickly, his heart turning to a pitter-patter under his ribs.Â
âIâm tired,â he explains, not wanting you to think his bad mood has anything to do with you.Â
âYouâve had a long day, thatâs why. When we get back to your place Iâll give you an incredible foot massage and everything will be okay again.âÂ
âI donât want a foot massage. My feet donât even hurt,â he lies.
âDonât bother.â You untangle your fingers from his and wave him away. âI know all your tells, baby boy,â âhe laughs through a wrinkled noseâ ânothing gets past me.âÂ
âWhyâd you choose a dry cleaners so far from your apartment?â he asks. You couldâve picked the one beside work, which has a yellow pages worth of fantastic reviews. The one second closest to his place is new but raved about at length. This dry cleaners is nearly twenty-five blocks away.
âThey do things exactly how I like it, I guess. I never have to worry about it when I give them my best clothes, and itâs kind of expensive if they were to accidentally ruin something, right?â You have expensive taste; you like things sturdy, fitted, and fashionable.Â
âDo you think I should get someone to do my laundry?â he asks.Â
âYou can afford it. But maybe not. Thereâs nothing wrong with your own washing machine and a steamer.â You side eye him carefully. âMaybe Iâm over the top.âÂ
âYouâre high maintenance,â he agrees. âIs it expensive, getting your clothes dry cleaned all the time? I could pay for that.âÂ
âWhat? Why would you pay for it?âÂ
ââCos weâre together?â Heâs more worried than dry about it. âIâd like to pay for your manicures and your hair, too, but I didnât think youâd let me.â
âAnd I wonât⌠sâkind of nice you want to though. Really nice, um.â Youâre blinking funny. âI think thatâs more of a husband thing. You really want to pay for me to get manicures?âÂ
Spencer pays for lots of your stuff because he loves you. Good food mostly, but treats, clothes, anything he might think youâre interested in, actually. He likes to spoil you. You tend to spoil him back, if not with money then affection. âI like maintaining you.âÂ
You curl your arm through his. âThatâs a funny way to say it.âÂ
He laughs at your obvious delight. âI like taking care of you,â he admits. âYou like being high maintenance, it makes you happy, and I like making you happy.âÂ
âThank you very much,â you say, softer now as your hand works up his neck and you turn his face to you, the sidewalk and the streetlines melting away under your warm touch. âYou make me happier than you know.âÂ
His cheeks turn pink. He doesnât need to see himself to confirm. Itâs a high statistical probability.Â
âKiss?â you ask, voice still soft.Â
Spencer walks you back nearer to the side of a building and out of the way, his hands at your neck and waist as he leans down just a touch to close your gap. He acts selfishly, perhaps, taking your hand from his face in order to hold yours in both of his without anything in the way of it. He kisses, he breathes you in, his head tilting more heavily to the side as the kiss lengthens, lingers. Youâre like a flower in his hand, blooming slowly under the effects of a little heat.Â
âWhat if you pay for my dry cleaning,â you begin, a smile evident in your voice though Spencer keeps his eyes closed. Tracing the hill of your cheek with his fingers just a moment longer. âAnd I pay for yours?âÂ
Spencer thumbs along your jaw. âI donât want anything from you, just you.âÂ
âWell, what if I treat us to some Indian takeout tonight?â you ask. âWould you eat that? Or am I enough to sustain you, my love?âÂ
He could enjoy being taken care of in turn, he thinks.Â
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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Jogging
A/N: Iâve discovered that I, actually, despise angst. I hate reading it and I hate writing it, unless specifically asked for, my brain thinks only happy thoughts. On an unrelated note, Iâm also a very emotional person and perhaps angst sets off my severe second-hand embarrassment and Iâve never finished an angst fic. So, from that unrelated note, have a finished fluffy fic :)Â
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Aaron is incredibly attractive at the best of times, but put him in sports gear and itâs like flies to honey. Which is an excellent cultivator of jealousy for his jogging partner, until she overhears him talking to another woman.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: fluff, kind of established relationship (youâll see)
I have redone the form for the taglist now that Iâm apparently expanding from Criminal Minds
Going for a morning run with her more-than-a-friend-but-not-quite-labelled man, was fun. Aaron taught her some proper techniques, and she got a kiss whenever they completed a lap.
There is an issue, unfortunately, and itâs one sheâs desperately trying not to blow out of proportion.
Aaron is attractive, devastatingly so, and because he occasionally runs ahead to finish a lap and wait for her to arrive so that he can greet her with a kiss, people donât always know that theyâre out together. Added with him in those damn workout clothes - that she would burn if she werenât mentally stable - itâs no surprise to her anymore to see women jogging up to him.
Theyâre almost always gone by the time she makes it over to Aaron, who kisses her and immediately moves on to their next lap. She tries hard not to let the clawing jealousy show.
Due to JAck, and both of them agreeing not to move too quickly so that they donât confuse him, theyâd just decided on not labelling anything yet. So she isnât really anything official to him, and canât do all the things her jealous mind screams at her to do.
Like today, for example, Aaron had pressed a kiss to her cheek and sped up to get to the end of their lap.Â
The minute heâs not beside another woman, someone else runs up to him.
She hears the fading introduction of âhi, Iâm Beth, I see you around here pretty oftenâ and her stomach clenches.
Once again, her pretty, not-boyfriend is getting hit on by a woman who can actually keep his pace. She hates it, and hates the burning hole in her chest even more.
Deciding, this time, she would actually speed up and join the conversation. Which will ultimately be worth the burst lungs and exertion-flushed face. Until she turns the corner and sees them still talking, any semblance of confidence withers.
When she hears her name on his lips, however, she dives behind the nearest tree. Realising he just gestured to where she should be coming from, and hoping neither of them had seen her practically rush for cover to avoid being seen. Pressing her back to the bark of the tree and listening closely to the conversation.
â-out with my girlfriend, actually, we run together.â
If she werenât hiding behind a tree, from a random woman and the man that just called her his girlfriend, sheâd be doing a happy dance by now. Choosing to press her hands to her chest as the burning hole closed up, victoriously grinning as âBethâ jogged on feeling pretty dejected.
Once sure that Beth was gone, she turned to place her hands on the tree, bracing herself to look around it to try and spot Aaron, that daft smile still on her face. But he wasnât there, and that observation came with a pair of hands landing on her hips and making her jump and spin around. Meeting Aaronâs smug grin as he gently pinned her to the tree by her hips.
âAre you spying on me now?â
Refusing to meet his gaze, she started looking all around them - as if searching for someone, and that only made his stupid grin wider.
âShould be careful Hotchner, wouldnât want that girlfriend you mentioned to catch you pinning a girl to a tree.â
âOh?â Knowing sheâd heard, he now has no plans to try and keep up the facade that he hasnât wanted her, officially, for weeks now. âAnd do you think sheâd be upset if I kissed the woman I pinned to a tree?â
Giving a dramatic gasp, she used it to breathe in fully to answer, realising that her lungs arenât really cooperating with her right now. And he used that as his chance to lean down to kiss her, loving the sparky feeling he gets from her every time. Siling against her lips as she melted against him.
Pulling back with a soft nip to her lips that had her chasing after him. Before realising what she was doing and resting back against the tree, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting what he wanted.
âI think sheâd definitely hate the thought of you doing that to anyone else.â
âAh, so she gets jealous?â
As if she were caught out, her eyes darted away from his as she pouted - from a profiling perspective, she really does have cute tells when sheâs been caught - tugging at the hem of his shirt.
âShe pleads the fifth.â
Thankfully, as she knows he actually loves any jokes that relate to his time as a lawyer, he laughs, leaning down to kiss her again, hand trailing away from her hip to lace their fingers together. Pulling back with a soft hum and another soft peck.
Swiping his thumb across her knuckles as he waited for her to open her eyes again, loving the little flush speckled across her features that obscured her freckles.
âWill she forgive me if I take her to get ice cream?â
âDefinitely.â
Tugging her away from the tree, he brushes the flakes of bark from her hair and clothes, spending a little too much time âbrushing offâ whatever was on her ass, until she smacks his hand away with a laugh. Leading the two of them back towards the car, deliberating what kind of ice cream âhis girlfriendâ would like the most.
But as they get in, he gives her another smile and laces their hands over the centre console.
âYou do know Iâm calling you my girlfriend, right?â
Shaking her head, she leant in to kiss him again, pulling away to pat his cheek lightly.Â
âDidnât need to be a profiler for that one, love.â
âOh, so youâre a profiler now?â
âBest watch it, Iâm coming for your job next.
Laughing, he lets go of her hand to start up the car, already knowing exactly which ice cream place they were going to - and exactly what she would order. Not that sheâs predictable in the slightest, but she always orders the exact same thing.
âFirst my heart, now my job? At this rate youâll have my house by the end of the week.â
âThatâs the plan!â
Heâs going to marry this goddamn woman.
Want more?! Good!
taglist ( Ë ÂłË)⼠@peliides â @peachsodameg â @angelinajolie0213 â @jiggly-puff-12 â @khxna â @kennedy2156 â @trulycayla â @none-of-your-bullshit â @alexxavicry â @meg-black â @princess76179 â @chicken-fifi â @averyhotchner â @punkyghoulz â @anotherpassiongirl â @princessjax â @gghostwriter â @pear-1206 â @justyourusualash (if your tag is here and not working check out this reblog to see if any of it could hopefully help!!)
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds oneshot#criminal minds fic
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Nobody Else (part 1)
pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader
genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), mild angst
summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?
chapter word count: 13k
warnings: honestly, way too much smut. cockwarming, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, orgasm denial, gagging, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, public sex (i don't even know if it's feasible, please suspend your beliefs about reality while reading aah), unprotected sex (please do not do this irl), breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart for female), usage of word slut (for female), usage of sir and daddy (for male), sir kink, daddy kink, office sex, use of profanities, lots of bickering. let me know if i missed something out!
a/n: and we're back. (or are we?) honestly, i write when i get the time. and i don't know when i'll get my schedule to clear up again </3 hopefully within a few months my life will be back on track.
hope you enjoy this!!! posting this in two parts because it's way too long otherwise. do leave your thoughts, i swear reading them makes me so happy. open to hearing criticism too so pls my inbox is right there for you to rant. have a nice day!
Youâve known Jeon Wonwoo since the age of eleven, but youâd never thought youâd end up like this. Being in the same social circles as you and your family, the young Jeon heir had never really been your friend. However, that did not mean you didnât meet him. In fact, you met him quite often. He went to the same school as you, he was always there at the parties you went to, and everyone around you kept talking about him. No matter what the season or the age, everyone was infatuated with Jeon Wonwoo.Â
Objectively speaking, no.Â
Subjectively speaking, not at all.Â
You could never understand why one would find a man with no beauties to his personality, nothing to his merit except a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and those never-changing black clothes, attractive. Apart from that, he never exchanged a friendly conversation with you. Never a moment of warmth. And you reciprocated the feeling absolutely. You had no desire to seek his favour. He simply never left the periphery of your life, and it annoyed you. But not enough to bother you. Youâd grown used to the sight of the tall boy, who never spoke to anyone except his tight-knit group of absolute losers. And he should have remained in your periphery, never in your focus. You wanted nothing to do with the cold, arrogant nerd.Â
So naturally, youâd never, in your wildest imaginations, thought that youâd be here, sucking his dick off under his desk while he engaged himself in a meeting on his desktop. You had been in that position for hours, your mouth lolling over the wetness surrounding his penis, both from your saliva and the slow trickle of his pre-cum. While he has switched from meeting to meeting, both with corporates in Korea and internationally, his suit impeccable and the glasses sitting neatly on his nose, youâd cockwarmed him. That wouldâve still been fine, had you not enjoyed it so thoroughly that it had become a routine for you both over the months.Â
After a solid two hours (and a few more minutes), heâd allowed himself to push back the chair a bit, pull his pants down further, spread his legs wide enough to meet the annoying temptation that had been bugging him for so long, and thread his hands into your hair, indicating you to step out of the haze youâd fallen into and get on with the job. And oh boy, youâd obeyed. At this point, it was a reflex for you. Feeling the way his hands caved your jaws and neck, you leaned into his touch, all while keeping your eyes on the little twitches he made on his face. Perhaps it was his need to be dominant, or perhaps it was just his arrogance, but he never slipped during sex. Even when you were giving him the most mind-blowing blowjob, like right now, using techniques youâd picked up over time, slipping your tongue under his cock to feel his veins throb around your tongue, gently nipping the foreskin to make the red tip burn harder, and taking him into your throat completely without a moment of a gag reflex. Heâd never show you how much he liked it, never praised you, never revealed that he wanted it as much as you did.Â
It was all a part of the act, you knew that.Â
It was designed to make you more eager to perform well, more eager to earn his praise, more eager to put your all into this.Â
Jeon Wonwoo, with his signature cold stares and the arrogant tilt of his smirk, would break you every time, and youâd come back for it, again and again, addicted mindlessly, like a drug.Â
Eventually, his cum would flow down your throat, and youâd feel his body relax against yours, as he let you lay your head on his thighs for a few moments to recuperate.Â
But never enough.Â
âUp, sweetheart. I thought you had a party to attend.â
He helps you stand up, smirking at the pool of your cum on the floor where youâd been sitting, with the bullet vibrator parked deep into your pussy, which had given you endless orgasms and sent you into heaven, all while youâd felt the weight of Wonwooâs warmth on your tongue.Â
His words bring you back to reality, as you limp towards the washroom to clean yourself, slowly breaking your daze. âI do. When are you going to change?â
âI donât want to. Iâll look good even if I donât doll up.â With a snicker he goes back to his desktop, and you roll your eyes at the implication of his words.
âI still donât understand why youâd ask them to deliver the dress here.â
âIt is pretty late. Imagine if Iâd have to go back home, change, and then leave for the venue. Too much hassle. I would have to leave an hour back. Your place is much closer to the venue.â
âAnd so you chose to make my bedroom your vanity room?
From Wonwooâs vantage point in the study, he has a direct view into the master bedroom, where youâre settling yourself into a fresh pair of lingerie and the jumpsuit, which had been designed exclusively for you, for this occasion. The jumpsuit was perfect, made to look professional and yet classy, just as the event demanded, and in midnight blue, your favourite shade. You smiled while wearing it, your secretary had truly learnt your style well and ordered the perfect outfit for you.Â
âIâll be out in ten.â You can feel his eyes on your figure, even from the distance.
Youâre too engrossed in fixing the zip on your back to notice Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixated on you.Â
âDo you need help?â
You give him a look. Thereâs that semi-permanent smirk lingering on his face, he knows heâs pushing your buttons. Outside of sex, you would never ask for help. In fact, you wouldnât ask Wonwoo for anything. What could he do for you that you couldnât do yourself?Â
He doesnât say anything else, he quietly steps in and takes grip of the zip. After pulling it up, he doesnât say a word, carefully watching you wear your scanty makeup. It could be a little creepy, but you surprisingly donât mind. Or perhaps you just donât care.Â
âAh fuck. I forgot to bring the lip gloss.â
âBut you just wore lipstick?â
âNo,â you turn around and outside of Wonwooâs periphery. Slipping your feet into your heels and putting on the earrings that had also been sent by your secretary, you told him, âThe lip-plumping one. It makes my lips look nice. Well, nicer. Theyâre already quite pretty, as Iâve been told.â You hear Wonwoo scoff behind you, and you turn around to face him.Â
âWell, how do I look?â
His hands are in his pockets, his shirt buttons are halfway opened and his hair is messy, but he still looks better than you do after all this effort.Â
âTheyâll love you.â
You smile. Thatâs more than enough feedback from Jeon Wonwoo. He doesnât have to praise you outside sex if he canât do it while fucking.
âThey always do.â
_
And they do. The photographers, the journalists, the social elites, the ministers, their wives, their mistresses, the chaebols, their heirs, and their bastards. Everyone loves you. How could they not? Youâre perfect in every way possible. At twenty six, youâre at the height of your life- young, charming and intelligent, everybody wants you. Ever since you took your fatherâs already prospering business to new heights four years ago, straight out of grad school, by introducing Korea to the world of AI like theyâd never seen before. The industry had not just been disrupted by your introduction of AI to the field of healthcare and diagnosis, but also awed by the sheer magnanimity of your creations. You hadnât spent years perfecting your ideas in vain.Â
Everyone wants a little bit of your time, a little word with you, slipping in a plea and a pickup line in the same tone, and you love the attention they throw at you. Honestly, this is where you were born to be. The spotlight is where you deserve to belong.Â
But eventually, the crowd dissipates, leaving you walking towards the bar looking for a martini, arm looped into the arm of your sister. âY/N-ah, I tell you, letâs go to Jeju this weekend! The weather is perfect now- not too hot, not too cold. The forecast also recommends visiting now!â She tugs at your arm playfully, and you smile fondly. She knows your answer, but she never stops trying. âAnd what about your husband?â âI need a break from him, please. Heâs getting on my nerves!â âDarling, itâs your hormones.â She slaps your wrist. âNo! Stop saying that. Kyungmin says the exact same thing, in the exact same tone! Itâs so annoying. Stop ganging up against me! Anyway itâs not my fault Iâm pregnant. The least he can do is take care of me. If he canât take care of me now, how is he going to be trained to become a father? Huh? How will he take care of our daught-â âYou donât even know that.â âI do. I have a feeling.â âYou can just say you want a girl, you know. Thereâs nothing called âa feelingâ.â âDamn it. Just because you have a trash sixth sense doesnât mean you can dismiss mine, my intuition never goes wrong!âÂ
And youâve reached the bar, and the bartender serves you your drinks- just a virgin mojito for your sister though. âThe canapes are great.â âHmm⌠But Iâm craving oranges! Thatâs why we should go to Jeju, yah!â âUnnie, youâve gotta stop. Donât excite yourself more than you need to. Do you want orange juice?â âNo, eww. Not this artificial flavour.â âIf you really want to go to Jeju, take Kyungmin Oppa and go. Donât ask for me- Iâll never be able to keep up with your tantrums.â âHmm. That is true. Now that you mention him, I suddenly miss him. For all my complaints, I still love him though-â You giggle at the sudden sappy tone of your sister, tuning out parts of her endless chatter, while your eyes search for someone in the crowds.Â
Jeon Wonwoo stands out, so heâs easy to find.Â
Heâs wearing the same suit heâd worn earlier, not changed like he had told you. He looks tired and yet, good. Before you realise it, heâs looking back at you, and walking towards where the two of you are standing.Â
âOh! Wonwoo-yah! How have you been?â Your sister asks, ever friendly. Sheâs the only one in the family who doesnât show that the Jeon and Y/L/N families are rivals in business and hence, avoid speaking to each other. That norm wasnât broken by you. To be fair, even the nights you spent together had very little conversation. No orgasm-induced dopamine could break through the wall of your egos to encourage you to be friendly with each other. Hell, outside of the bedroom, Wonwoo isnât even attractive enough to catch your eye.Â
âHmm, Iâm good, Noona. I see your baby is growing fast. How many weeks left?â His tone is courteous, formal, and sweet. Makes you want to laugh at how different he sounds from the usual voice you hear him speak in.Â
âAbout eleven weeks to go. This trimester has been killing me, I swear. Iâve told Kyungmin I donât want any more kids. Ever. I donât think I can go through this again, and I havenât even gotten to the pain of delivery yet. I donât even know if I can go back to skating after this.â
You scoff. âAs if. First get over your never-ending honeymoon period. Then talk about not having any more kids.â
âI support Y/N here. The company will need an heir, and I donât see anyone else providing any.âÂ
You sigh. There he goes. You roll your eyes at him, âAn heir doesnât have to be through blood relation. Merit exists. But then how can I explain this to someone whose existence is owed to nepotism.âÂ
âRich of you to say so.â
You take a step closer to Wonwoo, too riled up by the calm way heâs speaking. âIâve built my world from the ground. From level zero. I havenât just sat on a throne that was presented to me.âÂ
âForever the brat, huh? Running your mouth even in public, begging me to shut it?â You notice that Wonwoo has also come closer to you, and you can smell the cologne off him. Heâs a solid four inches taller than you, even when youâre wearing heels. But you stare right back into his eyes, yours angry and his cold and superior, as usual. You wonder for the n-th time if his blood even runs warm. Youâre tempted to retort back, disgusted by the below-the-belt remark, going off-topic, but your sisterâs gently pulling your arm, reminding you that youâre in public. âBack off. Donât make a scene, guys. Letâs not ruin the evening?â She puts on her best smile to calm you down, and you step away, seething in vain. Wonwooâs smirk never leaves his face as you two bow and walk away. The way heâs looking at you reminds you of other memories.Â
You suddenly wonder if your sister had heard the comment or not. Considering her though, probably not. Thank god it was her and not someone else.Â
_
The rest of the party flows seamlessly. Youâre spiralling slightly in your head though- overthinking canât be avoided. The way Wonwoo was successful in riling you up has shocked you, to say the least. There have been a thousand such instances, but you donât remember losing your temper to this extent in any of the situations. But somehow, Wonwoo talking about you not being interested to have children vexed you so much? It just didnât add up.Â
Itâs the first time youâre doubting your current situation. Youâd been absolutely convinced that settlement between the two of you was more to your benefit than his. It wasnât like you had a dearth of men wanting to fuck you. It was quite the opposite. But a few scandals and rumours had taught you that keeping your private life discreet was the optimal choice. Especially if you were a woman and people simply assumed youâd sucked someoneâs dick to get ahead in life.Â
But the arrangement with Wonwoo was so perfect. He wanted discretion, so did you. He didnât want to get involved with a random hookup who could get pregnant, you didnât want a random hookup to get you pregnant. He wanted someone to match his wavelength, and you needed a vent for your stress. Now that you consider the drastic improvement in your energy and efforts, in retrospection, becoming Jeon Wonwooâs submissive had been the best decision of your life.Â
_
It had begun quite suddenly. At your sisterâs engagement party. Everyone was delighted with the new couple, especially you. Your sister had never shown any desire to join the company, satisfied with following her passion of ice skating. And now she was getting married to her boyfriend of five years, the love of her life, and everyone was left fondly jealous of the pure happiness on her face, even you.
Perhaps it was because of this jealousy that youâd decided to flirt with Wonwoo at the after-party. Against your better judgement, youâd drifted towards him by the end of the night, until your knees were touching on the barstools, and he was leaning back looking over your figure again and again. I was wondering which spot would be ideal for me to bite first- your collarbones, your cleavage, your thighs or your belly button, he would tell you later. God knows why youâd suddenly decided to find him attractive after fifteen years of knowing each other, but that was it. Youâd ended up in a hotel bed that night, fucked until tears ran down your cheeks, begging him to go harder and faster whenever he slowed down to look at the mascara dripping down your face, leaving hickeys all over the soft skin of your breasts, not letting you rest of a second of the night, going at it till dawn.Â
âWonwoo⌠I canâtâŚâ youâd begged, your words muffled through your panties stuffed into your own mouth, the overstimulation hitting you hard as you squirmed against his tongue fucking his cum back into your pussy. âYou can, sweetheart, give me another one⌠hmm? Do you want to be a good girl?âÂ
And you had let loose. Given yourself up to him, to make or break you, as he wanted, and then put you together one by one as the sun rose up in the sky as youâd drifted to sleep. The next afternoon, youâd woken up feeling like a new person, and decided it was the best night of your life. The man in question was nowhere to be seen, but you didnât care. The bliss ran too deep.Â
Sadly, not deep enough. The overthinking kicked in a few hours later, and you cussed yourself for becoming so easy for an undeserving man like Wonwoo. Just because heâd made you cum and given you a good time didnât mean youâd go against your rational thoughts. In a way, he was no better than your best dildo. Except you liked your dildo. You simply did not like Jeon Wonwoo. The arrogant brat had been the type of man youâd avoided all of your life. You hadnât seen him work hard in school, and now that he had inherited his fatherâs company, you didnât see him work any harder either. Sure, Jeon Estates was doing better than ever, but that was only because the economy was booming and the housing market was doing well. He had done nothing extra. Unlike you, who had built your world yourself. Youâd never taken your fatherâs prosperity as complacency, and strived to make a name for yourself. And now people knew of Y/L/N Corporation as synonymous to both your fatherâs name and your name.Â
And you had, like a silly stupid girl, gone and slept with this very man.Â
And you had liked it.Â
That was the worst bit. An accidental hookup would have been fine. But no, you wanted to sleep with him every night, if it meant heâd treat you to the same feast youâd blissed out on last night. There was a certain happiness in giving up to him, letting go of the constant worries that burdened you down, and allowing him to take control, but god knows how you ended up trusting him so much in bed.
Anyway, you reconciled with yourself, itâs just a one-time thing. Itâs not like itâs going to happen again.Â
You were wrong. Jeon Wonwoo had picked you up that evening and taken you directly to his house.Â
âWhat did you want to talk about that you couldnât do in your car?â
âThe chauffeur was there.âÂ
âItâs not a big deal, Jeon. You can just say that you regret last night, cause honestly, same. Donât want to dwell on it.â You were in a rush to leave, because you didnât want to think about the memories in this same house the night ago.Â
âAre you sure?â
His question had taken you aback, as he watched you with his hawk eyes, licking his lips.
âY/N, I ⌠couldnât tell you in my car that I didnât regret it. I havenât been able to stop thinking about it.â
Youâre speechless, waiting for him to continue, as he took another step forward.Â
âWonwoo, I⌠you know this is a bad idea.â
âI do,â he chuckles darkly. âYou look like a bad idea, as Iâve known for years now. But when I see you wearing that hideous turtleneck to hide the hickeys and that tiny skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I keep remembering the way you submitted to me last night. For all your big talk and your attitude, you obey pretty easily, huh?â
You stand up, indignant. âWonwoo, you canât use that against me. Listen I know weâre not friends-â
âBe my submissive. I want, no fuck, I need you. Youâre perfect.â Heâs standing an inch away from you, bending his neck gently to look into your eyes. His mask slips for a second. A million emotions flit through your brain, and youâre deliriously begging for your intelligence to kick in, but thereâs something about the subtly layered desperation in Wonwooâs voice that makes you curious.Â
âWhat are your terms?â
_
You look at Wonwoo across the dining table. He looks as put-together as ever, not a hair out of place, as he converses with the middle aged-men sitting next to him while eating dinner. He quickly notes your glance and looks back, and you turn your eyes away before he catches the blush along your cheeks.Â
No, thereâs nothing wrong with the arrangement. It works perfectly in your favour. As long as nobody knows.Â
_
Youâre wrapping up a meeting with the board members of the company, when you get a call on your phone. Itâs Wonwoo. Excusing yourself from the meeting, you pick up the call while walking back to your office.
âHello?â
âAre you going to the Paris Conclave?â
The invitation for the event had arrived just that evening, the first time they were inviting your company. It had made you gush with excitement, happy that youâd been able to take your company to this prestigious conclave. Moreover, this would be the first time youâd be visiting Paris, one of the few dream destinations of your life. Due to a packed professional schedule, you had hardly been able to travel for the past few years, and the thought of going to Paris made you naturally happy.
âYes, of course. Getting fomo? I can get a croissant back home for you.â
âI can get my own. See you there.â
He cuts the call.Â
What was that? Heâs going to the conclave as well? Thatâs impossible. Jeon Estates had never been invited before this-
âJisung-ah.â You call for your secretary, who appears at your side quickly. âHas the Jeon Estates been invited to the conclave?âÂ
âMaâam, I- why, yes. I hadnât checked the list for their name.â His voice drops as he speaks, mirroring the disappointment rising in you too. So, it wasnât only you who had been invited for the first time.Â
Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. Even had to call you to rub it in, the nerve.Â
âWell, weâll just have to outshine them there. Iâm sure we shall. Please organise a meeting with the team leaders and managers today so that we can get the presentations perfected.â
Your secretary bows to you and leaves you alone in your office.Â
_
Paris comes sooner than you had thought, and youâre bursting with excitement. Nervousness too, a little bit. But your confidence isnât so easy to rattle. Youâve picked out your choicest outfits for the trip, hellbent on making it memorable. Youâve even kept a few days extra in hand to allow you free time to travel the city.Â
You had asked your sister if sheâd wanted to come along, but she had said that her doctor hadnât deemed it safe for her to travel by airplane now. âIâm so jealous! But thereâs nothing to be done.â âGo with your husband and your baby afterwards.â Youâd kissed her forehead when bidding the final goodbyes before leaving for Paris.
There was just one little worry worming through your brain. Not even a worry, just an irk. Jeon Wonwoo would also be there. Youâd have to compete again for the spotlight. As if the jerk deserved to be there.Â
âMaâam, do you want to go through your speech once more?â Jisung asked you from the seat next to you. You smiled, the younger man was definitely nervous by the look on his face. âWhy, are you scared Iâll forget? You know I take vitamins every day to strengthen my memory.â âI do, but-â âDonât worry. Donât let anxiety deter you from forming the memories of the fun times youâll be enjoying there!â
Fun.Â
As if. Jisung knew well enough that you rarely had time for fun, and consequently, neither did he. He saw you overwork yourself every day, staying at the office till late, obsessed with perfection, ensuring no loose ends were visible. Even if you tried your best to send him home when his work time ended, he wanted to stay back out of compassion for you. He was truly the best secretary you couldâve asked for. He was godsent- heâd learnt your habits and your thinking process within days, and soon he produced documents and answers before you asked for them, pre-empting your thoughts. After working with you for three years, he was good enough to be your clone- thatâs why you sent him to many events and meetings as your representative if you couldnât make it. You knew heâd handle it as well as you would, and report all the key details to you at the end of the day.Â
âYes, Maâam. I hope it all passes well. Weâve all worked hard.â
âAnd hard work always pays off, you know that Jisung-ah. Now, sleep quickly so that weâre not tired due to jet lag once we land there.â
_
Theyâve assigned Wonwoo a seat next to you at the conference table. As if seeing his face here wasnât bad enough.Â
âWill you never leave me alone?âÂ
He scoffs, âMe? Youâve been at my tail since you were a kid.â
âOh shut up. Inside school, outside school, at parties, at funerals, at my graduation, at my sisterâs wedding, youâre always fucking there. And now youâre here, to steal the spotlight. Not that you can anyway. Donât try too hard Jeon, youâll just look pathetic.â
âItâs funny how vain you are. You think I have any desire to steal your spotlight? Go ahead, be the talk of the party, by all means.â
âAnd I will! I donât need your permission for it.â
âHmm-â
The rest of his words get tuned out as the convenor of the conference begins their speech. You turn your eyes towards them, but you can feel Wonwooâs eyes burning on you.Â
âWhat did you say?â You whisper to him.Â
âNever mind. Do you want to go out tonight?â
âGo out?â You turn your head towards him, leaning in, incredulous.Â
âFor dinner.âÂ
You almost burst out laughing. âAnd pray, why would I go with you?â
He scrunches his nose and pushes up his glasses. âYouâre going to miss out on seeing the Eiffel Tower?â
âNo. In fact, I have plans on going today myself. But you didnât tell me why Iâd-â
âCome with me.â He turns his face away from you, his expression cold and unreadable.Â
âHell nah. We donât know each other, okay? Just because weâre both newcomers here does not mean we have to maintain solidarity or any of that shit.â
âYouâll regret it, sweetie.â
âI regret nothing.â
âWeâll see.â
_
âJisung-ah! You were scared for nothing. That presentation was flawless.â
âYes Maâam. I know our team always works hard, but the nerves never stop,â the young man looks much fresher after the conference wraps up for the day, his tie undone slightly. You can easily understand how his mood changes reflect in his facial expressions and attitude after the long hours you spend with each other on a daily basis.Â
âAre you still up for going to the Eiffel Tower tonight? Iâm planning on skipping the post-conference dinner. But if you want to stay, I wonât force you to come with me.âÂ
âNo Maâam, I was thinkingâŚâ he hesitates, but you raise your eyebrows to urge him to continue. âI donât know if Iâll ever be able to visit the Eiffel Tower again, so I do want to go with you ⌠but after that Iâd like to go to one of the clubs in the nightlife zones? Iâve heard from friends that the Paris nightlife is crazy.â
âOoh!â You pat him on the back, âYes please Jisung, finally youâve started to act your age. Go, be young and wild, Iâll cheer for you!â
âYou wonât come along?â
âOh no. Iâm way too old for that. Plus I never was into the club scene. And for real, you should go out and enjoy without me sometimes. People will start thinking Iâm your girlfriend.â
Jisung opens his mouth to say something, but ends up just smiling shyly. âOkay Maâam. Then should we leave for the Eiffel at 7 pm?â
âYes. Pick me up from my suite then.â
âYes Maâam.â
_
âSorry Maâam, the Eiffel Tower has been booked out for the evening. Itâs been a really sudden booking, and weâre sorry for the inconvenience, but itâs just been booked out completely by a private party and no external visitors are allowed.â
Youâre wearing your best white silk Gucci dress, the one you spent your entire salary on as soon as it was released at last yearâs Fashion week, and a stunning Cartier necklace, ready to spend the best evening of your life atop the Eiffel Tower, savouring life at its finest⌠but no. Some jerk just had to book it for this evening.Â
You slide up to the lady at the front desk, whose bored expression does nothing to calm your nerves down. Jisung has tried his level best to convince her, but itâs failed. So you try the one thing you know always works.Â
âRuth-â you see her name from her name tag pinned on her chest. âI can outbid the private party.âÂ
âIâm sorry Maâam, I didnât get you.â
You laugh, a careful measured laugh, to hide your irritation at having to say it again. âI said, I can pay you more than whatever the private partyâs booked it at. I just want ten minutes. Isnât it a win-win situation for all of us? Ten minutes for me, and your private client can enjoy it for the rest of the night.â
Ruth smiles, pitifully. Wretched woman, sheâs clearly not affected by your offer. This is what seeing too many rich people in a day does to a person, it immunes them to bribe, you think. Well, itâs her loss.Â
âIâm sorry Maâam, but we really cannot accept your offer. Itâs against our rules-âÂ
âLet me speak to your manager, Ruth. Trust me, when they hear my name, theyâll let me in,â you smile again, attempting to remain amicable instead of bursting out into the wildest Korean slang.
Ruth smiles again, âYou are, currently, speaking to the Manager here, Maâam. We simply cannot allow any external visitors tonight. Can we book a slot for you tomorrow? If youâd like to visit again, in the morning or later.â
Jisung tries to interject, but he sounds resigned. He seems intimidated by Ruth, and frankly speaking, you get it. Heâs just twenty four and spends over thirteen hours in a day with you, so heâs not used to snarky women. Well, apart from you, and youâre never snarky to him.
âRuth, my dear. Iâm Y/N Y/L/N, Iâm here at the Paris Conclave.â You say your name solemnly, expecting it to have the same effect it has in Korea, but alas, the woman remains untouched as ever. âIâm dreadfully sorry Maâam- wait, did you say Y/N Y/L/N?â Your smile becomes wider. Oh so it does have the intended effect. âSo you finally will let me in, huh? You do know who I am.âÂ
Suddenly Ruthâs demeanour changes and sheâs smiling pleasantly. âOh Maâam, the private client has specially informed us to allow you in. Only you.â âIâm sorry, what? Why would they suddenly ask for me-â âMr. Jeon told us that you would be here. Iâm so sorry for the miscommunication, Ms. Y/L/N-â
âMr. Jeon?!â Youâve got to be fucking kidding me, you bitch. Aloud you say, âMr. Wonwoo Jeon?â âYes Maâam. Heâs booked the entire place for the evening. He has been waiting for you too,â Ruth smiles graciously, doing nothing to relieve your confusion. âThere has been a mistake. I donât think he meant me. Weâll leave now-â âMaâam, Iâm sure thereâs no confusion now. Mr. Jeon asked us to bring you up as soon as you arrived. Weâre sorry to keep you standing here on your date night.â âDate night? This is ridiculous. Wonwoo and I are not-â Jisung whispers into your ears right at moment, noticing your bloodshot wide eyes, âMaâam, I think thereâs no point fighting with them on this,â he says in Korean. âThis lady seems adamant, and you shouldnât miss out on an opportunity to visit the Eiffel Tower when itâs lit up so prettily. Even if it is with Mr. Jeon,â you wince at his suggestion, and he smiles apologetically. Heâs right, you realise.Â
âOkay, but Jisung comes with me.â
âIâm sorry Maâam.â Oh Iâve had enough of your sorries. âNo one except you are to be allowed up.âÂ
âWow. First you say no external visitors. Now suddenly Iâm allowed and Jisung is not-â
âMs. Y/L/N, these are simply instructions from my client.âÂ
Jisung bites his lip and says, âWell I guess itâs not written in my fate then. Maâam, donât miss out on my account. Please enjoy. Iâll just go downtown and waste the night away. Iâll see you tomorrow then? Please make sure to eat dinner!â Youâre seconds away from whining and pulling another tantrum, but Jisung whispers fighting to you in his soft indulgent tone that he uses on you whenever youâre being a brat and he needs to take care of you. And then heâs gone, and you have no option but to face Ruth. That bloody woman. âWelcome to the Eiffel Tower, Maâam. Please accompany me as we take you to the top.â
_
At the top, Jeon Wonwoo stands with a glass of champagne in his left hand and his mobile phone in his right.Â
âIf youâre going to work on your phone and not enjoy the view, why the fuck did you book this place out?â
You walk towards the man standing in the open air viewing area, and he smiles at you. The annoyingly handsome smile, where his eyes crinkle up, and his perfectly white teeth are revealed in a rare display.Â
âYou came. I knew youâd come.â
âHow so?â A server appears from nowhere and offers you champagne too, which you accept. Youâll soon switch to whisky though, to calm your nerves down.Â
âYouâre easily predictable. You act like any other average tourist, although you pretend to be such a princess.âÂ
âEveryone comes to visit Eiffel Tower on their first day in Paris, Wonwoo, thereâs nothing weird about this-â
âExactly. Average. Me? I personally prefer to see it from the window of my hotel, so that I can see it in its glory without experiencing this slight dizziness and bling of the night view.â
âYouâre stupid. Thatâs why you have such stupid preferences. This night view? Priceless.âÂ
âLet me inform you, darling, it cost me a hell lot to book this. So not priceless.â
You laugh, looking at Wonwoo, whoâs leaning against the railing facing you, and then back at the gorgeous night view. The Champs Elysees looks glorious with the lights. You can sense Wonwoo leaning in closer. His cologne and perfume mix to create a dark, musky smell thatâs new. Youâve never smelled this on him before. âWhy did you book it? Thatâs what I've been asking since forever.âÂ
âI want to fuck you against this railing.âÂ
You choke on the champagne, before catching your breath and turning back to face him.Â
âWhat?â
âYou heard me the first time.â He maintains eye contact, but in that cold, nonchalant way of his, like he didnât just propose the most scandalous thing youâve ever heard.Â
âArenât there cameras?â
âWill pay for them to be turned off.â
âThatâs probably illegal.â
âI donât care. Iâll pay enough. Plus, Iâve already located the blind spots.â
You take a deep breath. As ashamed as you are to admit this, it does turn you on. A lot. If Wonwoo would touch you under your dress, heâd find evidence of the same. Sex like this- in public, definitely the most outrageous thing youâve done. But Wonwoo suggesting it? The fact that he booked this place out on a probability that youâd come and a hope that youâd agree to it? The more you think about it, the hotter your body feels. You can feel your nipples straining against your dress in the cold air, and your face turning red with imagination.Â
âIf you donât want it, we can just eat dinner and leave.â Wonwooâs eyes have become impossibly gentler but also darker, like heâs seconds away from losing his control. His sight betrays his words as he keeps looking at your lips. Thank god I applied the lip plumper tonight, you think. But then his eyes go to your breasts, like the pervert he is, and he smirks at the sight of the two nubs pressing hard against the soft silk.Â
You shake your head.
âSay it.â
âI want it too.â
âAtta girl,â his smirk widens, before he leans in to capture your lips. Itâs a rough kiss, nothing romantic like one would expect atop the Eiffel Tower, but it sets the right mood for the night. You realise that all servers have disappeared, and youâre perfectly alone, as his lips move down towards your neck, leaving beautiful hickeys along the way. âIt was torture and heaven waiting for you. Knowing youâd come, but fearing you wouldnât.â His hands take away your champagne glasses and place them on a table nearby, before bending you backwards on the railing, making your head zoom more with pleasure. What if I fall off? What if someone catches us like this? What if he takes a picture of me like this in front of the view, with my tits out and my lipstick ruined?
âNo bra, huh? Youâre so sexy in this dress, I want to fuck you in it. You mind that?â Youâre panting as he keeps kissing you in between his words, tongue dominating yours right away. Itâs like a switch flipped inside you. Just minutes ago, you were so against sharing the Eiffel Tower view with Wonwoo, and now youâre letting him fuck you here. It drives you crazy.
âWonwoo just- I donât care, I need you now.â He bites all over your shoulder, slipping down the straps to grope your breasts in the rough-handed manner you like, sure to leave bruises with the way he kneads them while leaving open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone.
âJust because weâre out in the open doesnât mean you forget your bedroom manners.â He bites down on your nipple, surely missing his favourite clamps back home, and you squirm in his iron grip.Â
âSir please!âÂ
âThatâs better, sweetheart. But what do you want?â
âC-Co-â he alternates his bites with little kitten licks, looking up at you. âArticulation, baby. Speak up.â âWant your cock, in my m- mouth, Sir!â He pulls away from you, leaving the cold air to tease your bruised nipples, and laughs. Fucking laughs, but it turns you on again. âIf you insist.â
He takes off his belt and ties your hands behind your back, and then pushes your shoulder down and you fall to your knees, and he stands back, tall. âOh, what a pretty sight,â he sighs, taking in the night sky view, and then looks down at you, but makes no move to open his pants. You assume youâll have to take care of it yourself, so you attempt to open the zipper with your teeth. Itâs not particularly difficult, but in the process you get some drool over Wonwooâs cock over his pants. âTch. Dirty girl, drooling everywhere,â he wipes away the drool from the edge of your lips, before you slot your mouth against his erection, now free from his underwear and pants which have slid down his legs. Itâs not as hard as it gets during sex, but thatâs what youâre here for. Nothing but a slut for him to use. Your ankles burn against your heels in this position, but itâs okay. Youâre losing your mind as you swallow his sheath inch-by-inch, until you feel his skin against your nose, and you stay like that for a second, easing out your gag reflex. But before you can move, Wonwoo thrusts deep into your throat, eyes not leaving yours. It makes you roll your eyes, the pleasure of the surprise way more than the pain, and makes you crave for more. He slowly wraps his hands around your head, a strong broad support for you to rest in, and continues to ram his dick inside your mouth. Your body becomes limp as you slowly surrender to his actions, your mind blank, except a crazy wanton desire to please him and make him cum. Youâre too sex-crazed right now to reason out why only Wonwoo elicits this reaction from you.Â
But then his dick gets rock hard, and right when its weight becomes the best and warmest around your throat, wet with saliva and pre-cum, he pulls out. You canât frame words instantly, but you whine. âAh, Wo- I- pl- co- pleaseâŚâ He laughs cockily at your state, and you blush with shame at the way youâre acting. âGet up,â he walks away from you, leaving you to your own devices to stand up in those heels.Â
It strikes you yet again, just how open this all is. Anyone can walk in. The security guard may be jerking off watching this on the security cameras, and you wonât lie, itâs hot as fuck. The thought of Wonwoo and your activities being porn for someone else- oh fuck.Â
Wonwoo sits on a couch meant for visitors on the balcony. âCome baby,â he beckons, and you sit on his lap. His cock is still hard, leaking pre-cum, and youâre tempted to lick it off, but you wonât make a move until he tells you to. You canât disobey him now- if he spanks you in punishment, you wonât be able to walk to the conference tomorrow.
âSpit on it.â And you do. Wonwoo likes your spit, for some reason, and you wordlessly obey. Then he pulls out something from his pocket, and you realise- âNo Sir! Please, not the paddle today!â Itâs a folded paddle, the pocket-friendly one you can buy at cheap sex stores. âI need to walk tomorrow, I canât if you spank me-â âBut youâve been so naughty. Begging for my cock in a public place like the little slut you are. Not accepting my invitation to come up here and making me wait for so long. Turning my offer for dinner down at the conference this morning,â You try to protest, but he simply inserts his thumb into your mouth, and you instinctively start sucking on it. âNow be pretty, and let Sir show you your place.â While youâre still distractedly sucking the thumb, you donât even realise when heâs lifted the back of your dress and the paddle hits the ass flesh exposed by your thong. âCount.â âOne,â you whimper out, not wanting his thumb to slip out of your mouth. The spanks continue, alternating on ass. He can alternate between asses and keep the same pressure just by one hand, the other holding up your dress, his hands big enough to cover your entire ass cheek. The spanks burn more after the momentâs relief due to the cold air, and by the time you reach twenty, your knees have given up, and youâre drooling on Wonwooâs shoulder.Â
âDonât make a mess. Sit up straight.â As you do so, he asks you, putting away the paddle and tucking your hair behind your ears. âHave you learnt how to behave? Or do you need another reminder?â You fervently shake your head, but he whispers in his insanely sexy tone, âWords.â It makes you shiver, and you respond, âYes Sir. Iâll not misbehave, Sir.â He smirks, and leans back. âNow ride me like you mean your words, darling.âÂ
You donât need another command. You sit down on his dick quickly, ready to take the burn without any prep, because youâre already leaking down your thighs. He grips your hips with one hand, steadying you, and cards his other hand through your hair. As you begin bouncing down on him, he shudders and releases low grunts, but nothing breaks his composure. He never once whispers Good Girl, as you cum once, but you still keep riding him to ensure he reaches his climax. Somewhere after your orgasm, he starts thrusting up from below to meet your efforts, and it brings him closer to his orgasm as he scrunches his nose and closes his eyes. When he does spurt inside you, he whispers softly enough that you almost miss it, âFucking gorgeous.âÂ
Thatâs enough praise for the night, you think to yourself, as you fall limply against his chest, nearly passed out from the strain, his cock still spasming inside of you. He soothes your hair, and you fall asleep.
_
âMaâam? Maâam? Please wake up! Weâre running late. Maâam? Ms. Y/L/N?â You open your eyes blearily to see Jisung shaking you lightly. Slowly you come to your senses, and you can hear his voice louder, and see the desperation in his face clearly.Â
Fuck.Â
What have you done?
âHow late am I?âÂ
âNot too bad, Maâam,â Jisung scrunches his nose as he looks at the clock on your bedside table. âWe have twenty minutes to go.âÂ
âFuck!â You scramble out of bed, not even bothering to check if youâre clothed, and make your way to the washroom. Thereâs a pain growing in your head, and itâs only when you see yourself in the mirror that you realise that youâre wearing a t-shirt and shorts. What even happened last night? The last thing you remember, as you try to recollect while quickly brushing your teeth, washing your hair and hopping into the shower all at the same time, is that you had passed out on Wonwooâs shoulder. Then the world had gone blank. Fucked into oblivion, truly. He must have brought you into your room. Oh fucking hell, he owed you at least that much.
By the time you wrapped your bathing suit around you and walked back into your bedroom, Jisung was gone, but your outfit and shoes were laid out on the bed and there was a note, Iâll pack some breakfast for you, Maâam. Please come down directly to the conference hall. Thank god for Jisung, that was one prayer you said everyday. Heâd been partying too last night, hadnât he? And yet, he had responsibly made it on time and woken you up as well. You were getting too irresponsible, too lax. Your discipline was gone and you mentally bashed yourself for it. All because of that stupid Wonwoo.
After that, it doesnât take much time for you to get dressed. Jisung mustâve noticed the hickeys on your neck, and brought you a jacket with lapels and a collar high enough to hide most of the marks. You quickly tied a scarf around your neck, making it look fashionable by adding colour to the otherwise beige monotone outfit, and praised yourself mentally for looking this good even without makeup. Dabbing on some lip balm in the elevator, you quickly reached the conference hall, finding yourself a minute late. Again, thank god for Jisung, the boy had reserved your seat, made excuses on your behalf and kept a croissant and coffee ready at your seat, so that everyone greeted you with kind smiles.Â
Except Wonwoo, who had that unreadable expression again.Â
Must be pathetic, living like him. What worth was a face like that if it couldnât express anything?
_
Four days later, you land in Incheon amidst the wildest of storms the country has faced in the year. You wonât admit it, but youâre glad you travelled in your private jet, where you can close all windows down and wrap yourself up in a blanket burrito to drown out all signs of the storm. You wish storms didnât exist, and you wish no one would have to see you in this weak state. Not Wonwoo for sure.Â
After that first day in Paris, the two of you had barely interacted. Primarily, you were too ashamed to speak to him. How could you smile and talk normally to someone after getting railed by them on the Eiffel Tower, especially when that same someone was annoying as fuck in reality? Sure, eye contact had been made several times, over dinners, over the conference tables, when youâd been on the stage presenting, and when running into each other in the corridor. But words? You possibly couldnât. Itâd be too much for the fragile self-respect youâd been holding on to.Â
You really want to avoid him once youâre back in Seoul as well. The workload seems to have tripled in the few days you were away, with endless tiny emergencies and approvals pending to be resolved. Youâre again thankful for Jisung, but thereâs only so much the poor boy can do. You make it a point to send him home soon after his scheduled timing every day, but you canât say the same for yourself.Â
Itâs the fifth night of you eating ramen from a cup noodles pack and sipping on apple juice from a 1 litre tetra pack, that you finally give up on the abstention. Itâs a hard decision, but somehow, your overworked brain and sleep-deprived body leads you to one craving, and one craving only.Â
Thirty minutes later, Jeon Wonwoo arrives at your office. Heâs been to your office only rarely, as you both prefer to meet up outside professional areas, but in the darkness of the empty office, he can easily recognise your brightly-lit room. Heâs dressed in formals too, as if heâs just got off work himself, and you think he may be in the same boat as you. But definitely not as much as you- youâre a perfectionist who looks over everything yourself, Wonwoo doesnât even come close for sure.Â
âItâs one of those nights, huh?â
He gently opens the door and walks in. Everything about him seems to be delicate today: perhaps itâs because his shirt is damp from the rain heâs surely walked in, his hair is wet and falling over his eyes, and his tie is gone. His jacket is soon gone too, dropped off on the couch, and he takes off his shoes. Theyâre leaving slightly muddy footprints, and you wonder if Wonwoo even drove and came or just ran like a peasant.Â
âHowâs work treating you?â
âStop wolfing down that ramen, itâs not healthy. Not as bad as you, as I see. I finished up hours ago,â his eyes donât meet yours, and you know itâs a lie. Itâs one of the signs of lying, as youâve picked up over the years. Wonwoo rarely breaks eye contact while speaking, always honest, and his lie is really odd to you right now. Why would he lie to you about this?
âI was wondering, ifâŚâ you stand up from your desk, taking in the figure of the man sitting on your couch now, manspreading and head leaning back. Heâs tired, why did he lie about getting off early?
âCome here, princess.âÂ
Thatâs all it takes, and you sit on his lap and wait for his lips to meet yours. He indulges you in your wish, and immediately the tension in your body eases out. Along with the stress of work, youâd been even more worried that heâd bring up your last night together, and youâd get too ashamed to remain turned on. But he doesnât, and youâre glad. You let your lips be bitten by him, but then he soothes over the burns with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and you tell him the same.Â
âHmm, low sugar.âÂ
Then he picks you up and gently walks over to your desk, holding you in the same bridal pose without even a muscle flinching. With one hand, he clears the laptop sitting atop your desk to the coffee table, and swipes the rest of the clutter on the floor. It wouldâve made you angry otherwise, but youâre already entering subzone with the way heâs handling you. Lips still locked on yours, holding you in that pose with just one hand as you hold on to his shoulders for dear life, itâs a crazy show of strength and youâre getting incredibly turned on by it. You let yourself go, giving it up to this person, who seems to be so reliable, so strong, so manly.Â
As he lays you down on the desk, he takes off your trousers and underwear in one go, and sits down on the chair you usually sit on.Â
âYouâre so wet, so dirty. Did you touch yourself after texting me to come over?â Your pussy is at his eye level, and youâre looking down at him, his eyes menacing and beautiful at the same time. His question makes you squirm, as you reply, âOf course not.â Then thereâs a slap across your cunt, and you whine. âManners?â âOf course not, Sir.â âLiar,â he smirks, and dives headfirst into your cunt.Â
Itâs a treat he rarely gives you. Only when heâs very happy with you- like after youâve taken thirty spanks, or youâve eaten dinner with him while having a vibrator stuffed up your cunt, or youâve let him wash you in the shower (for some reason, Wonwoo likes that a lot. He ties you up to these poles heâs attached in his bathroom, and plays with your body by applying as much oil and soap he wants, making sure not to touch your pussy for hours, denying every release to you even as it builds up just from the oversensitivity of having your nipples and ass played with).Â
You wonder why heâs so happy.Â
But you canât care enough, now that his tongue is working so hard against your clit. The sensation makes you lose all rational thought, as you lean back against the desk, mind empty, and just moaning his name. You remember the first few times heâd fucked you with your mouth gagged, but then heâd told you he likes your sounds way too much, so youâd stopped controlling them too. He gets what he wants. After all, only he can fuck you so well.Â
âWonwoo, please-â He moves his head up, licking his lips which are glistening with your slick. âHow do you address me baby?â âS-sorry! Sir, please I-â âHmm?â He leans back in, humming against your clit. His tongue now moves to your hole, nose brushing against your clit. âCan I come? Like this? May I? Please?â When he moves away again for breath, he removes his hands from your thighs, and you see the red marks heâs left there just by how tight he was gripping them. Itâs a wild sight, and your climax hits you right then, coming before he could answer. âSo impatient, coming all over my face even when Iâve told you not to come without my permission.â But even his scolding sounds gentle tonight, softly chiding rather than his usual harsh coldness. In your post-orgasm clarity, you wonder again whatâs gotten into him.Â
He licks away your cum, and it makes you burn with overstimulation. âUhhhhh, please-please Sir!â âStay still.â His hands are back at your thighs, spreading them apart, and he seems hellbent on getting another orgasm from you. Your screams are louder this time, and youâre growing even more desperate to get something bigger to fill you up. You wrap your hands in his hair, and tug unconsciously while he keeps licking at your pussy. His entire face is hazy with your slick, thank god heâd taken off his glasses earlier, but he doesnât care. He keeps diving in.Â
âSir, please, Iâm going- uhhhh,â he pulls away instantly and smacks your cunt hard. âNo coming until I allow you to. Let Sir have his treat.â âPlease Sir Iâll be so good, I promise, I- please let me, just this once.â Another smack, and youâre screaming. Thank heavens the office is empty.Â
âDo you not understand my words? Should I retrain you?â
âNo! Iâm sorry. Iâll be good, I promise.âÂ
âHmm, you better be,â and this time he doesnât just lick your pussy, but also starts entering two fingers alongside his tongue, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. Youâre whining yet again, losing your breath, but everytime youâre about to come, he pulls away. You canât figure out how he realises, but soon two hours pass by, and youâre still being edged. Your legs are shaking, and you canât think straight. You just want more of his fingers, you want his cock, inside your mouth, your cunt, hell, you just want to orgasm once.Â
âGirl, stop moving. Youâre so filthy, dripping like this. What would your boytoy think if he saw you like this? Should I call him to clean this mess on your desk?â Heâs curling his finger inside you, and itâs really hard forming words when youâre seeing stars like this.Â
âSir, I-â âWhatâs his name? Jieun?â âJi- Jisung. Aaah, please-â âLook at you begging. So pathetic. No wonder your secretary is so pathetic. He really likes you, you know?â Your eyes go wide, trying to register his words. âWhy- why are you- how do youââ âHush. I want to know, is he jerking off to you now? Thinking of how slutty you looked in those grey trousers, how perfect your ass looked? Bet you show off in front of him on purpose.â Youâre squirming harder, not wanting to think about Jisung right now. âBut- but daddy, I on- only want you!â
He laughs, then he leans in to whisper into your ear, âDaddy? Thatâs a first. Say it again.âÂ
âDaddy, please! I only want your cock.âÂ
âReally? So demanding, like a wife. But youâre just a slut. Youâd do this to Jisung as well, wonât you?â âNo! I swear- please. Daddy, just, itâs just you.â
âIs that so?â
âYes, I swear!â You nod feverishly, the sensation building up inside you again.
âOkay baby girl. Come for me. Come for daddy. Then Iâll take you home and fuck you good. This desk is too small.â You donât need to be told twice. You gush all over his hands and some of your come ends up on your desk and his pants too, but he only chuckles. Licking off the come on his hands, he smiles. âYou taste like sugar, sweetheart.â
_
The sheets you wake up in smell overwhelmingly like Wonwoo. The man is nowhere to be seen, but the blankets next to you are shuffled and the pillow has a dent, and you remember being caved by his warmth at night when the storm had hit Seoul again and youâd woken up for a second before falling asleep to the steady rise and fall of the chest wrapped around you.Â
You wake up slowly, adjusting your eyes to the sunlight. This isnât the first time youâve been in Wonwooâs bedroom, but this is the first time youâve slept over. Usually you leave, no matter how late it is. But it feels good. It feels oddly intimate.Â
Your legs burn when you walk, but you try to look for your clothes.Â
Your shirt is ripped again.Â
You strut out of the room after wearing your panties and bra, which is barely holding on to one hook remaining, and find the man standing in the open kitchen, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. Heâs drinking coffee, and a book is in his hands.Â
âWonwoo, youâve torn my clothes again. How am I supposed to go home like this?â
He turns to face you, smiling and fixing his glasses, and standing up. He looks so good in the warmth of the sunlight falling on his golden skin. âYouâre up.â
âDo you think I can keep buying new clothes?â
âYes. Now, calm down. Do you-â
âWonwoo!âÂ
âFor godâs sake, I canât take your shit this early in the morning. You want to fight, please do. Not now. Itâs too early. You just always find something up your ass and have to pick on me for nothing, huh?â
His smile has faded, and the warmth in your body seeps away. About time, though. You donât want to start feeling safe in Wonwooâs private space. Itâs too intimate- waking up in his bed, seeing him walk around in sweatpants, drinking coffee heâs making for you. Itâs too much.
âThis has to stop, Wonwoo.â
âOkay, fine! Iâll not rip your shirts. Take my card and buy something-â
âThis arrangement has to stop.â
He turns away from the coffee machine for a second, and stares at you. You walk towards him, and he looks even better up close. His tank top shows off his arms, and they look soft yet really firm. You want to touch-
âWhy? Have I made you uncomfortable?â
���No, itâs not-â
âDo you want to date someone? You can, you know. I donât care-â
âWonwoo-â
âDid I hurt you? Was I too much last night?â he steps closer to you, furrowing his eyebrows in evident confusion, and you suddenly canât breathe. His expression is very much readable and it only reads as one emotion- concern.
âWonwoo, please.â You take a step back, hugging yourself with your arms.Â
âDoes it hurt? I am sorry if it does-âÂ
âItâs not your fault. Itâs a me thing, I swear.â
His eyes become clouded by even more confusion, and you quietly walk away and sit down on the kitchen counter.Â
âThis is becoming too much for me. I- I got into this arrangement thinking that it would be a good way to vent stress. But itâs toxic now- I canât think of any other way to deal with stress except this. Donât you notice how our meetings have become more frequent now, especially initiated from my end? In the last three months, Iâve initiated sex fifteen times, and youâve only six times. You see? This has become my only solution now.âÂ
Wonwoo doesnât look at you, but he keeps wincing at your words as if heâs being hit physically. Then he responds, when youâre done, âThat does sound like a you problem, like why-âÂ
You slide off the counter with a huff, muttering Fucking jerk under your breath, but he catches your wrist before you can walk further away.Â
âDonât touch me if youâre going to react like that. I fucking knew it, why did I even talk to you? I can just walk away, I didnât even need to expose my weaknesses to you.âÂ
He yanks you closer using your wrist. âThis isnât a war, Y/N. I donât get off on knowing about your weaknesses, for fuckâs sake. Can you stop being paranoid?â
You sigh. You know youâre always paranoid around him- funny, because heâs seen you in more compromising positions than anyone else. If he wanted to blackmail you, or hurt you, by hitting your weaknesses, he would, you realise. Is that why youâve learnt to feel so safe around him?Â
âIâm sorry I reacted like that, Y/N. Talk to me, letâs work this out together. Letâs set up a system to slow our meetings down if you like?âÂ
You bite your lip, and look up at him. âHow?âÂ
âUmm, how about you start to find other sources for it? Like hanging out with friends? Developing hobbies?âÂ
You huff again, twisting your hand out of his grip. âWonwoo, if I had other sources, would I not use them?âÂ
âDarl-â
âDonât call me that! Weâre not having sex right now.â
âY/N. Take your time to find other sources, then. If Iâm your only means of relieving stress, it is extremely toxic. Youâll become dependent on me, and-â his pupils shake, looking away from you, âyouâll find it tough to date and all. Been there. Done that. Thatâs why I can tell you this.â
Youâre about to reply something, when your phone rings out in a shrill tone. Surprisingly, Wonwooâs phone rings out at the same time too.Â
You jog into the bedroom to find your phone and pick it up. Itâs your sister.Â
âY/N-ie! Youâre not at home?â
âNo. Why? Are you coming over?âÂ
âNo, I just made Kyungmin drive us to your place to see your place is empty. Where are you?â
âNever mind where I am. Why did you come over?âÂ
âMum and Dad want us to have lunch with the Jeons,â you can hear her giggle. But youâre stunned. âWith the Jeons? Now? Today? For what joy? Are we buying their company?â She giggles again, leaving you more frustrated. âYouâll find out. Iâll send you an address then, come over directly!â And she promptly ends the call, leaving you blank and confused. Your phone pings- thereâs the address of a restaurant, and a message asking you to be there within an hour. You realise only now how late youâve woken up, and youâre glad itâs a Sunday.
âWhy am I eating lunch with your parents?â Wonwoo walks into the bedroom, that confused look on his face again. âI could literally ask you the same damn thing. Whatâs going on?â âDoes it look like Iâve got a single clue, babe?â He smirks at your cluelessness, and walks into his ensuite bathroom, leaving you speechless. Did he just call me babe? You wonder, but then your mind flits back to the issue at hand.Â
âWonwoo!â You scream at him from outside the bathroom. Youâre sure he can hear you, so you donât wait for a reply. âYah! What am I supposed to wear? Youâve torn my clothes, you fucker!â Your stress levels are rising again. Youâre going to have to go back home to wear something appropriate. You realise that you havenât even brought your car. Youâll have to ask Wonwoo to drive you back. But fuck, what if your sister is still at your place? Then sheâll see you both coming together, and undoubtedly sheâll prod and poke you. Then you wonât be able to have the upper hand at lunch when Wonwoo signs his company over to you. But thereâs no other option as well. Well, there is- you can always stop at a boutique or a shop to buy something and wear it on the go. But thatâd mean youâd have to go out in this hideously ripped blouse of yours. Oh!
âWonwoo! You dumbass! I hate you! What have you done now? Why are we going for this lunch? For godâs sake.â
âStop screaming, woman.â The door suddenly opens, and a half-naked Wonwoo steps out, engulfed in the steam from what was definitely a very hot shower. You have to stop yourself from moaning out at the sight. It reminds you of the three times youâve showered together, and you canât help but think back to the vivid memories of those sessions.Â
âHow can I stop screaming? I donât even know whatâs going on. You knew about this, didnât you? Why are you so calm?â Wonwoo takes another step towards you, and he runs his hands along your arms. You shiver under his touch, realising youâre still wearing just your underwear. âCalm down. This isnât a big deal, youâve dealt with more serious issues. Itâs just lunch.â âBut itâs lunch with your family. I donât even know why.â He presses a hand along your cheek, and youâre feeling even more conscious and nervous. Why? This is really unusual, because Wonwoo is right. Youâve been in worse emergencies. Why is this getting on your nerves? Probably because your periods are due this week. These are just your hormones.Â
âJust enjoy the food. Youâre anyway good at ignoring me in public places, and you can do the same to my family too.âÂ
You bite your lip, and shake your head. âI need fresh clothes.âÂ
âYeah okay. Get into the shower and clean yourself up. Iâll ask my secretary to send something over.â âWhat? How-â âI think sheâs the same dimensions as you.â âOh.â You step away from him, swallowing whatever words you had to say. âIâll go into the shower then.â
_
Thirty-five minutes and a very nice warm shower later, youâre standing in the bedroom and thereâs a very pretty black dress on the bed. Thereâs also a new pair of lingerie next to it, complete with red roses sewn into black lace. Wow, thatâs what Wonwoo asked his secretary to buy, huh. He definitely knows her dimensions very well. And the clothes fit, almost perfectly as if tailor-made. The dress is of unknown brand but the feel of the satin on your skin feels nice enough for you to forget about its origin.Â
âDone?â Wonwoo steps into the room. âJeez, can you knock? Scared me.â Youâre applying Wonwooâs sunscreen (frankly shocked to see him owning it, but then, his skin is pretty nice). Youâve also applied the same perfume as his, and combed your hair in a million different ways, to make up for the lack of make-up or your usual products.Â
âKnock when Iâve seen you naked in this very room a hundred times? No thanks. Letâs go, weâre late.âÂ
âHmm,â you slip your feet into your shoes and pick up your bag. âIâm ready.â So is Wonwoo, you notice, whoâs dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. The softness of his clothes contrast the sharpness of his features, and it⌠looks nice.Â
It takes you two twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, the ride passed in silence as you catch up on work mails from your phone.Â
âIâll go first, and you come ten minutes later, okay?â âYeah. And Y/N, donât tell them you were with me, okay?â âOf course not. Iâm not a dumb nut like you.â And you shut the door of the car with unnecessary force as you walk out of the car. You swear you can hear Wonwoo curse behind you, but you give no fucks.Â
âOh! Y/N-ie! Welcome!â You walk straight into the arms of your mother, whoâs dressed in a gaudy dress that does not suit her figure. âEomma! How many times have I asked you not to wear these dresses?â âOh shush! I bought this last weekend. Donât tell me it looks bad, Iâm in a good mood now.â You grimace and walk towards the table where your sister, her husband, and your father are waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear. Mr and Mrs Jeon, and Wonwooâs younger brother are sitting on the other side of the table, also smiling from ear to ear. The excessive smiles are disturbing you, youâve positively never seen Mrs. Jeon smile that wide.
âOh, you look so good! Did you lose weight, Y/N-ie?â Mrs Jeon beckons you to sit next to her, and she takes your hand in hers. You force a smile on your face, still clueless about whatâs going on. You can only hope they start talking about it when Wonwoo comes.Â
Speaking of the devil, he does come way earlier than you asked him too. Youâre suddenly nervous, as the families start smiling again. âAigoo, our handsome boy is here. Sit here, sit here.â Your sister welcomes him and he sits wedged between her and his mother.
âEomma, whatâs going on?â he asks.
âAah, straight to the point. Forget about that, tell us, did you both come together?â You spill out the drink from your mouth, almost choking. âUs? Together? Hahaha. No, of course not! Why would you think that Mrs Jeon? Hahaha.â âHmmâŚâ your sister exchanges looks with your mother and Mrs Jeon, before finally giving you that stupidly bright smile again. âIs there something you both want to tell us? Weâll give you a chance before-â Wonwoo interrupts, âAppa, whatâs this nonsense? Just tell us without this suspense.â
Mr Jeon, whoâd quietly been busy on his phone for so long, looks up and stares a little blankly. His wife nudges him, and then he seems to remember. âOh, so, Wonwoo. You know you both can tell us what you want.â Your father pipes in, âYes, same goes for you, Y/N.â Wonwoo and you exchange confused looks before you speak up, âOkay, but really. Whatâs this suspense for?â
âWe know youâre dating.â Your sister blurts out, and thereâs a sudden silence at the table.Â
You think your eyes may burst out from the shock, and the way in which your palms instantly become sweaty is a dead giveaway of your nervousness. âWhat?! Unnie, are you out of your mind? What the fuck?âÂ
âLanguage, Y/n-ah.â Your mother says, âYou think we donât know what you both are doing, huh?â And then she giggles. The damn audacity.
âI think thereâs some grave misunderstanding, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N and I are⌠certainly, not dating.â Wonwooâs mother grasps his hand across the table, and says, âOh my son. My dutiful son. You donât have to pretend about this. Just because Jeon Estates is rivals with Y/Nâs company, doesnât mean you both have to be secretive about dating!â Thereâs a little cough from both fathers, and Kyungmin and Wonbin, Wonwooâs brother, burst out laughing.Â
âEomma, weâre not hiding anything. Itâs a fact, we arenât-â
âExplain these then. Booking out Eiffel Tower for a dinner date, huh?â
âEomma, how do you know? Are you spying on me?â
âNo! Of course not! We just looked at your credit card bill, accidentally. Then I spoke to Bora, your secretary, and she confirmed that youâd been spending a lot of time with Y/N. Not only that, thereâs more-â
âYes, indeed. Y/N-ie, why didnât you ever tell us?â
You gasp, feeling lightheaded. âDid JisungâŚ? That trai-â
âNot Jisung. Jisung wouldnât open his mouth. So I spoke to your chauffeur. He tells me he regularly picks you up from Wonwooâs place?â
Thatâs it. This is it. It doesnât get worse than this. This is your end. Oh, earth, swallow me up.
âDarling,â Mrs Jeon rubs your back, âPlease donât feel so shy. We know that our husbands havenât left a great friendship for you two heirs. But you need not worry about all this rivalry.â
Your sister joins, âYes. Iâve convinced Appa, and our lovely Aunt Jiwoo has convinced Mr Jeon too. Oh you both are so silly, hiding a precious thing like this from us.â
Wonwoo and you glare at each other. You realise thereâs no point in explaining things to these people sitting in front of you. If theyâve reached the point where your sister is calling Wonwooâs mother as aunt, then they must have discussed this extensively before calling you two to this lunch. An ambush, thatâs what this is, you think in despair.Â
âSo what weâre saying is, instead of keeping it hidden like this, why donât the two of you get married? Wonwoo-ah? Youâre turning thirty next year, arenât you? I want to see my grandchildren too,â Mrs Jeon says, and everything falls in place. This is blackmail. Your motherâs been asking you to get married ever since you took over the company, claiming that having a man at your side would help your life be perfect and free of any troubles, and even forcing you on some arranged dates. Wonwoo must be going through the same kind of thing, with him being three years older to you also. It fixes the nail in the coffin, and you stand up from your seat.
âThatâs not happening. Mrs Jeon, Mr Jeon, Wonbin-ah, Iâm sorry if this disappoints you, and the same goes for my family too. Wonwoo and I are grown adults. What we do is none of your business.â
âBut if you are dating, whatâs the issue with getting married? And from what I hear, itâs not even a recent fling. All this has been going on for a year now!â Your mother cries out loudly. Although youâre sitting in a secluded corner, the restaurant isnât quite empty.Â
âWeâre not⌠dating. Thatâs what weâve been trying to tell you all along.â
âWell, then are you guys enemies having movie sleepovers?â your sister adds, and itâs too annoying. âAnd why did you come over in Wonwooâs car?â How the fuck? But then you realise, nothing is beyond these women. They may be keeping tabs on your and his car GPS for all you know.Â
Wonwoo stands up, looming over your figure. âThatâs quite enough. Like Y/N said, what we do is not your business. Thank you for your concern, and enjoy your meal. Eomma, since youâve taken access to my credit card already, might as well use it to treat yourselves with this meal.â He steps out of the chair, and walks over to where youâre standing. He swiftly grabs your wrist, and pulls you away, âLetâs go. This is a waste of time.â And just like that, the two of you walk away. Â
_
Six days later, a wedding invite stands ready in front of you, held out in Jisungâs pale hands. âDoes it look good, Maâam? Iâll send it for printing then.âÂ
You sigh, and nod your yes.
_
part 2 is now out!
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