#because a lot of other people already have talked about
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My family did a nice party with reasonable food and borrowed decorations. None of my friends had anything resembling those tens of thousands of dollar glitzy themed fancy DJ 500 guest extravaganzas. They were usually in a synagogue hall. The guys had a nice sponsored kiddush after shule the week they read from the Torah, maybe a price tag of a couple hundred dollars max. The girls in my community didnt read from the Torah but did have a party that was mostly like an elevated birthday party. The food was more Shabbos food than hot dogs, sometimes catered sometimes homemade. The decorations were a little nicer, one of my friends had a chocolate fountain and that was super fancy. I think one person rented....like a fancy hall you might have a small wedding in? And there were waiters and the food was quite fancy, not michelin star but more like wedding food? And everyone dressed up a little, Shabbos clothes or similar.
The smaller ones had guests limited to close friends and immediate family, larger ones include the synagogue community, parents friends, maybe grandparents friends, some more distant relatives.
And like, I was aware of who had the bigger fancier parties and who had the smaller more intimate parties, and sometimes the intimate ones were a nicer experience, and I dont remember any bitching about whose parents could afford what. I do remember some parents feeling pressure, actually, that I was sideways aware of, yknow when youre on your way out the door and youve already said your goodbyes and them your parent stops to talk to all the other parents for 20 minutes before you leave? And I do remember adults congratulating each other not doing any big blowout nonsense, affirming that its ok to be keeping it very appropriate for the occasion.
Cause it is a big deal, but its not a wedding or idk what else rich people have overblown parties about. Every kid has one. Especially bigger families cant afford to spend a fortune on each kid. It doesnt need to be about showing off. Really its a community event, its about marking ones transition into Jewishly legal adulthood and proper responsibility for oneself, its about marking ones new responsibility and privilege of counting in a minyan and being able to read the Torah and lead services. Its very definitely not nothing. The celebrant is a teenager. All these things are true. Most people do whatever fanciness they can reasonably afford, and for most people that looks nothing like the handful of examples Ive seen in media.
And on the other side, people do gift money, but that doesnt mean every kid walks away with thousands. Its traditional to gift in multiples of 18 which is the number for life, so maybe you got a lot of $18's and maybe you got more $320's. Cause the other trope Ive seen is "Im loaded with all my bar/bat/bnei mitzvah money". Imho I got a decent amount for how I old I was, my parents allocated some I was allowed to spend and the rest I had to save, which I genuinely appreciate. I know some people got a lot more and some got a lot less. Its super variable. I think some peoples parents took the money to pay for the party and like, groceries, because that was their financial situation, which imo is unfair to the kid, but if its that or not eating I also understand the parents decision.
Point being, most people arent fabulously wealthy and many are actually quite poor. People do what they can within their means. It varies a lot. Id love to see more Jewish rep that isnt wealthy new yorkers and $20k bar mitzvahs.
I'm just gonna say something, Bar/Bat/B'nai mitzvahs are a celebration, they often but not always come with an after party and depending on the means of the parents of the lucky 13 year old they can be over the top sometimes. Much like rich kids with sweet 16s or Quinceañera.
okay thats out of the way, what I wanted to say is, I'm SICK of every media depiction of a Bar/Bat Mitzvah as a 100 million dollar, biggest party on the planet celebration of conspicuous consumption. Almost ALWAYS missing the you know Bar Mitzvah itself, and again depicting Jews over and over again as INSANELY wealthy. Like not everyone, hell not MOST people's Bar Mitzvah was huge and expensive.
another thing, I know by definition no 13 year old is cool, by definition they are greasy and annoying and cringe. But EVERY depiction of a Bar/Bat Mitzvah where the boy or girl of the hour is both an awkward loser and (particularly the boys) sleazy little creeps who are trying WAY too hard to impressive with their garishly massive (and expensive) party (and how often they quote how much something costs as if a 13 year old would know or care) it just seem a little close to the old antisemitic stereotype of Jews as crass and uncouth social climbers desperately trying to use their money to buy their way into classy society and forever failing.
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nicest guy: 33. the premiere
word count: 15k words (sorryyyy….againnnn) warnings: MDNI!!!!!! explicit sexual content. petnames, spanking, unprotected sex (dont do it!!!!), softdom! sunghoon, softdom!jake, all the fucking lot. spoiler alert im so sorry…… thank you…… prev | masterlist | next
You’re still adjusting your dress in the mirror when there’s a knock at your door. Three short taps, casual but expectant. You already know who it is. You smooth your hands down the fabric one last time, inhaling deeply before opening the door.
Jake stands there, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, dressed in an all-black suit that fits him almost unfairly well. His hair is styled just enough to look effortless, and the way he’s looking at you, all wide eyes and slow grin, makes your stomach flip.
“Fuck. Wow.” His voice is almost reverent, his gaze dragging over you from head to toe. “You look insane. Like, actually. This should be illegal.”
You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe just to make things difficult for him. “And what are you gonna do about it?”
Jake’s grin sharpens, his dimples showing as he leans in slightly, his voice dropping. “I can think of a few things.”
Your heart stutters for a second, but you keep your expression unimpressed. “Yeah? Too bad we have somewhere to be.”
“Five minutes won’t kill anyone,” he argues, slipping past you with ease, closing the door behind him. He barely gives you time to react before his hands find your waist, pulling you in like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His cologne is distracting, all warmth and spice, and his lips are just close enough to be dangerous.
“You’re trouble,” you murmur, your hands finding his shoulders.
“I could say the same about you.”
And then he kisses you, slow and teasing at first, before he deepens it, his fingers pressing into your back like he’s trying to memorize the feeling of you. He tastes like mint and something sweeter, something distinctly Jake, and it’s so easy—too easy—to melt into him.
But you don’t, not fully. You pull back, breathless, pressing a finger to his chest. “Jake.”
“Mm?” His lips chase yours like he’s not done yet.
“We have to go.”
He exhales dramatically, resting his forehead against yours for a second before finally pulling away. “Fine. But only because I don’t want Niki to yell at me for being late.”
The hotel ballroom where the premiere is being held is overwhelming the second you step inside. Warm lighting, sleek decor, champagne flutes in every direction. The kind of event where everyone is too cool to be fazed by the sheer number of celebrities in one place.
Jake keeps a hand on the small of your back as you walk in, like he’s worried you might disappear in the crowd. He greets a few people, nods at some others, but the second he spots Niki, his entire demeanor shifts.
Niki is standing near the center of the room, flanked by Yeonjun and a handful of other people you don’t immediately recognize. He’s holding a drink and talking animatedly, gesturing wildly like he’s in the middle of the most important story of his life. The second he sees you and Jake, his face lights up.
“There you are!” He waves you over, practically bouncing on his heels. “Finally. Thought you guys were gonna ditch me.”
“You think I’d miss this?” Jake grins, clapping a hand on Niki’s shoulder. “Big night, man.”
Niki gestures to the chaos around him. “Yeah, it’s pretty fucking insane. I saw Taylor Swift like ten minutes ago and almost passed out.”
You blink. “Wait, she’s actually here?”
“Of course she is, dude. It's her movie.” Niki shrugs. “She's probably somewhere being cooler than all of us combined.”
Jake stands beside you, his hand resting lightly on your back as the party swirls around you. The room is a blur of sequins, designer suits, and industry elites, but his attention is locked on you.
Sunoo arrives first, all bright energy and perfectly styled hair, Gigi right beside him in a dress that probably costs more than your rent. Woonhak follows, looking vaguely overwhelmed but excited. “Oh my God, there he is,” Sunoo gasps dramatically. “The man of the hour.”
Jake laughs. “You mean Niki? Pretty sure he’s the man of the hour.”
“No,” Gigi corrects. “He means you.”
“Yeah,” Sunoo adds, pointing between you and Jake. “We’ve been hearing a lot about you.”
Jake gives you a playful glance. “All good things, I hope?”
Jake, ever the charmer, is unfazed. He chats with them easily, slipping into the conversation like he’s always been part of your world. You watch as he makes them laugh, throwing in casual compliments and effortlessly winning them over.
After a few minutes, you catch sight of Jungwon and Jay arriving. “I’m gonna go say hi to them,” you tell Jake, placing a hand on his arm. “I’ll be right back.”
He nods, squeezing your fingers briefly. “Don’t take too long.”
You weave through the crowd toward Jungwon and Jay, both looking effortlessly put together. Jungwon spots you first, his face lighting up. When you reach them, your brother pulls you into a quick hug. “We had a tie problem.” His gaze turns to Jay, who is silently laughing.
You glance toward the bar. “I was actually about to grab a drink. You guys want anything?”
Jay shakes his head. “Sunghoon already went to get ours.”
Of course he did.
You nod, excusing yourself before heading toward the bar. As you approach, you spot Sunghoon leaning against the counter, one hand resting casually on the surface while the other holds a drink. His suit fits perfectly, sharp lines and effortless confidence, the deep navy fabric complementing his complexion in a way that makes your thoughts stray into dangerous territory. The open collar of his dress shirt reveals just enough skin to make you swallow harder than you’d like, and the sleek styling of his hair only sharpens the cocky smirk he wears when he notices you approaching.
“What a coincidence,” he muses, tilting his glass slightly in your direction. “You following me, sweetheart?”
You roll your eyes, masking the way your pulse quickens. “You wish.”
He tilts his head, letting his gaze drag over you in that slow, deliberate way that makes your skin heat. “Maybe I do.”
Your throat goes dry, but you refuse to let it show. “Shouldn’t you be taking those drinks back to your friends?”
He smirks, swirling the liquid in his glass lazily. “They can wait. Besides, looks like you could use a distraction.”
You scoff, leaning against the bar beside him, trying not to focus on how close he is. “You think you’re that distracting?”
Sunghoon leans in slightly, his voice dropping to that infuriatingly smooth register that always makes the air between you shift. “I know I am.”
You hate that he’s right. But you hate even more how much you don’t want to walk away.
He studies you for a moment before raising a brow. “So, how’s Jake?”
The question catches you off guard, but you recover quickly. “He’s talking to Sunoo, Giselle, and Woonhak.” You pause, then glance at him knowingly. “You know, since he invited you here and all.”
His smirk deepens, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “Yeah. Generous of him, don’t you think?”
You nod, watching him carefully. “I like that you two are getting close again.”
Sunghoon hums, taking a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down. Then, he looks at you with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. “Of course you like it. You’re the reason for it.” He pauses, tilting his head slightly. “Or did you already forget what happened on Super Bowl night?”
Your breath catches for half a second, but you school your expression, refusing to give him the reaction he wants. Instead, you shift your gaze across the room, scanning the crowd—and that’s when you see Jake.
He’s leaning against a tall table, still engaged in conversation, but his eyes are locked onto you and Sunghoon. There’s something in the way he’s watching, the curve of his lips somewhere between amused and possessive. It sends a shiver down your spine—not quite jealousy, but not entirely something else, either.
The bartender slides your drink in front of you, breaking the tension. You take the glass, turning back to Sunghoon with a tight-lipped smile. “I should get back.”
His smirk lingers, as if he knows exactly why you’re leaving so quickly. “Sure. Wouldn’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.” You ignore the way your stomach tightens at his words, turning on your heel and walking away before you do something reckless.
You return to Jake, finding him standing with Heeseung, Beomgyu, and Soobin near the edge of the party. The three of them are deep in an animated discussion, and you barely get a word in before Beomgyu clutches Soobin’s shoulder like he’s delivering the most important information of the night.
“Dude, I swear to God, we just went to the bathroom and Tom Holland was in there,” Beomgyu says, eyes wide.
Soobin nods in solemn agreement. “He was washing his hands like a normal person. It was surreal.”
“Was he British?” Heeseung asks, raising an eyebrow.
Beomgyu stares at him. “Bro, of course he was British, what kind of question—”
“I mean, did he sound British in real life?” Heeseung clarifies, crossing his arms.
“I didn’t hear him talk. But he had the British stance,” Soobin supplies, as if that explains everything.
“What the hell is a British stance?” Jake finally asks, chuckling.
Beomgyu waves his hand dismissively. “You wouldn’t get it.”
At this point, the conversation takes a sharp turn as Heeseung squints at Soobin. “Okay, but real question—who’s the best Spider-Man? Because I already know your dumbass answer.”
Soobin gasps. “Tobey Maguire is objectively the best—”
“Oh my God, here we go,” Beomgyu groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You’re actually delusional if you think Andrew Garfield wasn’t the best,” Heeseung counters.
Jake laughs, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you slightly closer as they keep arguing. He leans in, his voice a warm murmur in your ear, “You wanna get out of here?”
Your breath hitches for half a second, but you play it cool, tilting your head slightly. “You’re feeling bold tonight.”
He smirks. “You have that effect on me.”
Before you can respond, Beomgyu suddenly turns back to you both, looking horrified. “Wait—Jake, don’t tell me you think Tom Holland is the best Spider-Man.”
Jake doesn’t even glance at him. “I think Y/N and I are leaving.”
Soobin gasps. “COWARD.”
You laugh, letting Jake steer you toward the exit, ignoring the continued chaos behind you. His hand is firm on your lower back, fingers pressing lightly as he guides you through the crowd, a silent reminder of his presence. The party hums around you—music pulsing, glasses clinking, voices overlapping in an endless sea of conversation—but it all fades into the background as you step into the crisp night air. The smoking area is nearly empty, just a few scattered guests lingering near the edge, their quiet conversations drowned out by the distant bass from inside. The air is laced with the faint scent of cigarettes and expensive cologne, but all you can focus on is Jake, who wastes no time in pulling you closer by the waist.
“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice smooth and low against your ear. His lips graze the sharp line of your jaw, not quite kissing, just enough to send a shiver down your spine.
“I’m fine,” you reply, though your breath hitches slightly when he finally presses a kiss there, just below your ear.
“Yeah?” He pulls back just enough to look at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “You don’t seem fine.”
You roll your eyes, though it’s half-hearted. “You just like messing with me.”
“Maybe.” His hands tighten around your waist, his thumbs pressing into your sides. “Or maybe I just like you.”
Your heart skips a beat, but you play it cool. “Oh yeah? How much?”
Jake tilts his head, pretending to think. “Mm, a lot.” His lips find your jawline again, kissing along it slowly, savoring every inch. “Like, wanna-be-around-you-all-the-time a lot. Like, think-you’re-the-coolest-person-here a lot.”
You hum softly, enjoying the warmth of Jake’s touch, the way his fingers trace absentminded circles against your waist. But there’s something deeper lingering between you, something you can’t ignore.
“Jake,” you say quietly, tilting your head up to look at him properly. “Can I ask you something? Like, for real?”
He pulls back slightly, his gaze warm and steady. “Of course.”
You hesitate for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip before finally speaking. “What… what exactly is this? You and me.”
Jake blinks, as if the question catches him off guard, but then a small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know if I have the perfect answer for that,” he admits. “But I know that I really like getting to know you. I like how things feel when I’m with you. And I don’t wanna push you into anything—you’ve got a lot going on, I get that. But I like where we are right now.” His fingers tighten slightly on your waist, grounding, reassuring. “I like this... whatever this is.”
Your heart stumbles slightly at his words, the sincerity behind them. You nod, letting the moment settle, before shifting slightly. “Can I ask you one more thing?”
Jake grins. “Damn, two in a row? Should I be nervous?”
You roll your eyes but don’t take the bait. Instead, you inhale deeply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you get mad about Sunghoon? About him being around?”
Jake exhales a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You wanna know the truth?”
“That’d be nice.”
He leans against the railing, still holding onto you like he’s unwilling to let you go. “It’s not the first time this has happened with me and Sunghoon.”
Your brows lift. “Seriously?”
Jake nods. “Yeah. We’ve had this… I don’t know what to call it. This rivalry? Competition? Whatever it is, it’s not new. But it’s never been like this before.”
“Like this how?”
His thumb brushes against your hip, gentle, thoughtful. “It’s never been with someone like you.”
Your breath catches slightly. “What does that mean?”
Jake chuckles, shaking his head. “It means you make it different. You make it feel less like a fight and more like— I don’t know. Like a game we don’t mind playing.” He pauses, tilting his head. “And I think it’s because I respect you. I know you’re gonna do whatever you want in the end, and I trust that. And…” He grins, eyes glinting with something playful. “I like it. I like the chase. I like having to work for you.”
Your heart squeezes at his words, warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re really not jealous?”
“Oh, I’m jealous,” he admits, laughing. “But I’m not bitter. Not when it’s you.”
For a second, you can’t think of anything to say. So you don’t. Instead, you reach up, tangling your fingers in the fabric of his jacket and pulling him down into a kiss. Jake reacts instantly, hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, until there’s barely any space left between you. His lips move against yours with an easy certainty, like he’s trying to tell you everything he just said all over again—without words, just the heat of his touch, the press of his body against yours. You feel the way he deepens the kiss, his fingers tightening slightly at your waist, like he wants to make sure you don’t slip away. And you don’t want to.
You let yourself sink into him, your hands gripping the lapels of his jacket, holding him there like he’s the only thing anchoring you to the moment. The world outside the two of you feels distant, a blur of cigarette smoke and the muffled voices. It’s just Jake, his lips warm and insistent against yours, his breath fanning across your cheek as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, as if he wants to taste every inch of you.
Then reality nudges at the back of your mind, and you remember where you are.
You break the kiss, just barely, your breath mingling with his. “Jake,” you murmur, voice slightly unsteady. “We’re still in public.”
His lips barely leave your skin as he hums in response, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. “So?”
You huff a quiet laugh, raising an eyebrow. “So, people are watching.”
Jake exhales a soft chuckle, completely unfazed. “Good,” he murmurs, dipping his head lower, his lips brushing against your jaw, then lower, trailing down the column of your neck. His voice is a low, amused whisper against your skin. “I like when people watch.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his jacket. There’s something reckless about the way he says it, something bold, unbothered—like he’s perfectly happy letting the whole world see that you’re his.
You’re about to retort, maybe call him insane, maybe tell him to shut up and keep kissing you, but then—your gaze drifts past his shoulder.
And your stomach twists.
Across the smoking area, near the edge where the neon glow fades into shadows, Sunghoon is standing with some girl. He’s not kissing her, but he’s leaning in way too close, his posture relaxed, effortless—like this isn’t even something he has to think about. Like it’s second nature to him.
She’s smiling, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers as she looks up at him, hanging onto whatever he’s saying. And he’s looking at her the way he looks at anyone he’s about to pull into his orbit—sharp, teasing, eyes glinting with something just shy of a smirk. He’s angled slightly toward her, their bodies just close enough that if she took half a step forward, they’d be chest-to-chest. It’s casual, but you know him well enough to recognize the way his body language shifts when he’s interested in someone.
And then he looks up.
His eyes meet yours, and in an instant, everything sharpens. The noise around you fades, the air between you crackling with something unspoken, something tense. His expression doesn’t change—he doesn’t pull away from the girl, doesn’t step back. He just holds your gaze, steady and unreadable, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Like he’s daring you to react.
Your pulse kicks up, an unfamiliar mix of emotions rising in your chest—something heated, something possessive, something almost irrational. You don’t know if it’s anger, annoyance, or something else entirely, but you feel it curling tight in your stomach.
Jake, still oblivious, is kissing along your neck, lips pressing slow, lingering against your skin. His grip on your waist tightens, his voice low. “You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs, trailing another kiss just below your jaw.
But you barely register his words, barely feel the way he’s touching you. Because your attention is locked on Sunghoon, on the way he’s still looking at you, as if waiting to see what you’ll do.
And it makes your blood boil.
The spark of defiance ignites in your chest before the thought even fully forms. You don’t hesitate. If Sunghoon wants to play, you can play too.
Without breaking eye contact with him, you tighten your grip on Jake’s collar and pull him back into a kiss—this time, not soft or teasing, but intense, deliberate. Jake barely has a second to react before he’s melting into you, his hands sliding down your waist, fingers gripping your hips as he presses closer. He exhales a quiet groan against your lips, caught off guard but more than willing to follow your lead.
You tilt your head, deepening it, letting your nails drag lightly against the nape of his neck. The heat between you simmers into something heavier, something heady, and when Jake's fingers dig into your sides in response, you know he's completely lost in it. Good. That’s exactly what you need.
Still, even as you lose yourself in the kiss, you keep your awareness sharp, your senses wired. You know Sunghoon is still watching. And when you finally break the kiss, breathless, you make a point of glancing back toward him.
Your stomach twists the moment you do.
The girl beside him is even closer now, pressing into his side, lips trailing along his jawline like she’s mapping it out with precision. Sunghoon, on the other hand, looks completely unaffected. His expression is unreadable—bored, maybe. Or amused. His arm is lazily slung over the balcony railing, one hand wrapped around his drink, posture relaxed, unbothered. But his eyes?
His eyes are locked onto you.
There’s something deliberate in the way he holds your gaze, something slow and heavy, like he knows exactly what you’re trying to do—and he’s daring you to try harder. It makes your pulse spike, anger bubbling beneath your skin, because he’s playing right back, and worse—he’s good at it.
You refuse to let him win.
Turning back to Jake, you grab his wrist and pull him with you, leading him toward a more secluded corner of the smoking area, tucked behind a concrete wall where the lights don’t quite reach. Jake follows without question, his grip tightening around your hand, his breath uneven from the kiss.
“Where are we going?” he murmurs, voice low, eager.
You don’t answer. Not yet. Not until you steal one last glance over your shoulder, making sure Sunghoon sees exactly what you’re doing.
You don’t wait to see his full reaction, but you catch it anyway—the smirk pulling at Sunghoon’s lips, lazy and knowing, like he’s completely unfazed by your little game. Like he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. It makes your jaw clench.
But you don’t give him the satisfaction of hesitating. You disappear behind the wall with Jake, letting the dim lighting and the thrum of the distant bass swallow you whole.
The second you’re out of sight, Jake tugs you back against him, hands firm on your waist. He’s still catching his breath, his eyes dark with something unreadable—half amusement, half hunger. But there’s something else there too, something smug, something playful.
“You know he’s an asshole, right?” His voice is low, teasing, his fingers dipping just beneath the hem of your dress. “And you know I’m so much better than him.” You open your mouth, but before you can say anything, he leans in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “But you just can’t help yourself, can you?”
Your stomach flips at the way he says it—not accusing, not jealous, just… taunting. Testing you. And you hate how much you like it.
Your lips curl, fingers sliding up his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “Maybe I just like watching you get all competitive,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly, letting your lips ghost over his jaw. “Maybe I like making you work for it.”
Jake exhales sharply, his grip on you tightening. “Yeah?” His voice drops even lower, and before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours again, harder this time.
The kiss is intense, charged—his hands tugging you closer, his fingers digging into your hips as he backs you against the cool concrete wall. His lips part against yours, and you let him in, let him deepen it, let him take.
His mouth leaves yours only to trail lower, tracing a slow, deliberate path along your jaw, down to your neck. He finds that spot just beneath your ear and lingers there, lips pressing, tongue flicking, teeth grazing just enough to make you inhale sharply.
“Still thinking about him?” he murmurs against your skin.
You exhale something between a laugh and a breathy sigh, threading your fingers through his hair. “Not even a little.”
Jake chuckles, satisfied, before dipping lower. His lips trace down your collarbone, hot and open-mouthed, like he wants to leave something behind—some kind of mark, something to remind you who had you here first. His hands explore, one gripping your waist, the other slipping up your back, pressing you flush against him.
Jake’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into your waist as he presses you further against the cold wall. His kisses turn rougher, more demanding—teeth grazing your lower lip before he tugs at it, swallowing the quiet gasp that escapes you.
"You like this, don’t you?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with something dark, something teasing. His hand slides up your side, fingers curling around your ribs as his lips travel back to your neck, biting down just enough to make your breath hitch. "Letting me push you around a little?"
His words send a shiver down your spine, and when he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown, you know you’ve both lost track of who’s playing who. You don’t answer—not with words, at least. Instead, you tilt your head, giving him more access, your fingers tightening in his hair as he licks over the spot he just bit. He chuckles against your skin, satisfied, before sucking a bruise into your collarbone.
A soft moan escapes your lips, barely audible, but Jake catches it. His breath stutters for a split second before he exhales sharply, pressing his hips against yours in response. "Shit," he mutters, dragging his teeth over your pulse. "You can’t be doing that in my ear, princess. That’s not fair."
Before he can say anything else, the buzz of his phone vibrating in his pocket interrupts the moment. He ignores it. You feel it again. A steady vibration, insistent. Jake just groans, mouth still on your skin.
"Jake," you whisper, a little breathless. "It’s your phone."
"Don’t care," he mutters, kissing you again.
You laugh softly, pushing at his chest. "It could be important."
He pulls back just enough to look at you, jaw clenched, clearly annoyed. With a heavy sigh, he digs into his pocket, pulling out his phone. When he sees the caller ID, he groans even louder.
"For fuck’s sake," he mutters before answering. "What?"
You can’t hear what’s being said on the other end, but Jake rolls his eyes. "Bro, are you serious right now? I'm—" He pauses, glancing at you, then sighs again. "Fine. I’ll be there in a sec."
He hangs up and shoves his phone back into his pocket, looking at you with the most put-out expression. "It’s Niki. He’s making a toast or whatever and wants all the guys there."
You snort. "You should go…"
"Yeah." Jake sighs, rubbing a hand down his face before looking at you again. His eyes roam over your slightly disheveled appearance, the faint marks blooming on your collarbone. A smirk tugs at his lips.
You roll your eyes. "I was literally about to fix myself up."
His smirk widens. "Yeah, you better."
You smack his arm, making him laugh. "Shut up," you mutter, turning toward the restroom. "I’ll meet you there."
Jake steps away first, sighing dramatically as he runs a hand through his hair. “Better hurry up, angel,” he teases over his shoulder. “Don’t wanna keep me waiting too long.”
You roll your eyes, watching as he disappears into the crowd before exhaling and smoothing down your outfit. Your body still feels warm, buzzing from everything that just happened, but you shake it off, heading toward a bathroom nearby.
The hallway is quieter here, dimly lit, the noise of the party muffled behind thick walls. You push open the door and step inside, immediately making a beeline for the mirror.
The second you see yourself, you groan, leaning against the counter with both hands. Your lips are swollen, your hair is slightly tousled, and there’s the faintest hint of red blooming on your collarbone where Jake had been particularly eager.
“My god,” you mutter, tilting your head to inspect the damage. You press your fingers over the spot, sighing. “Girl, what the fuck are you doing?”
You shake your head, standing up straighter as you start fixing yourself. Running your fingers through your hair, smoothing out your clothes, fixing your lipstick in an attempt to erase the evidence.
Alright. You’re fine. You take one last breath, steadying yourself.
Then, pushing open the stall door, you step out—
Sunghoon is leaning against the wall right outside the bathroom, arms crossed, waiting.
His eyes meet yours immediately—dark, unreadable. There’s a flicker of something behind them, something almost amused, and then his lips quirk up at the corner.
“Took you long enough,” he murmurs.
Your breath catches for a second, your heart still settling from the mess Jake left you in, but you mask it quickly. “Were you waiting for me?” you ask, tilting your head, trying to sound unimpressed.
Sunghoon just shrugs. “Maybe.” You roll your eyes, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you—so casual, so at ease, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Having fun tonight?” he asks, voice smooth as ever.
You lift an eyebrow. “You tell me,” you counter. “Looked like you were having a great time with that girl.”
His smirk deepens, just a fraction. “You were watching?”
You scoff, arms crossing over your chest. “You were standing right there. Kinda hard to miss.”
He hums, tilting his head. “So, what? You jealous?”
The accusation makes your stomach twist, but you don’t let it show. You just let out a short, humorless laugh. “Not even a little.”
Sunghoon chuckles, low and deep. “Right,” he drawls.
You hate the way he says it—like he doesn’t believe you, like he knows better. And maybe he does. Maybe he caught the way your gaze lingered too long, how you clenched your jaw when you saw his arm resting lazily on the balcony railing, completely unfazed by your attempts to get a rise out of him.
You straighten your spine. “You must be enjoying yourself, though,” you say, voice laced with something just shy of sarcasm. “Didn’t look like you were complaining when she was all over you.”
Sunghoon just hums again, taking a slow step toward you. “Wouldn’t say that,” he muses.
Another step.
Your back hits the wall before you even realize you’re moving, and Sunghoon is right there, hovering just close enough to make your pulse stutter. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t do anything more than lean in, but it’s enough. Enough to make the space feel smaller, the air heavier.
“She was cute,” he admits, voice dropping slightly. “But I don’t even remember her name.” You bite the inside of your cheek, refusing to react. He watches you for a second longer, studying, waiting, and then his lips curve again. “What?” he murmurs. “Disappointed?”
Your eyes narrow. “I should’ve listened when people told me you were trouble.”
Sunghoon tilts his head, feigning curiosity. “Oh? And who told you that?”
You shrug, looking away. “People.”
He hums, like he’s considering it, then dips his head a little lower, just enough to make you look at him again. “Well,” he says, “they’re not wrong.” The words shouldn’t make your stomach flip. But they do. “And you know that,” he continues, voice quieter now. “You’ve always known that.”
You swallow, lips pressing together. Sunghoon’s smirk grows. “And you like it,” he says simply.
Something about the certainty in his voice makes your breath hitch. Like it’s not a question, not even up for debate. Like he knows you too well, has seen the way you react when he talks to you like this, corners you like this. You open your mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to deflect, but he beats you to it.
“You don’t play fair, either,” he murmurs. “That’s why you pulled Jake like that.”
Your fingers twitch at your sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, you do.” The worst part is that he’s right. And he knows it. The tension stretches between you, thick and charged, but before you can get lost in it completely, something clicks in the back of your mind—Jake.
You blink, straightening slightly. “I have to go.”
Sunghoon doesn’t move, still caging you in. “Back to him?” You nod. He exhales sharply through his nose, a smirk still lingering on his lips. “Of course you do.”
You lift your chin. “Don’t start.”
Sunghoon just lets out a quiet chuckle, finally stepping back, giving you space. “Go ahead,” he says, waving a hand. You roll your eyes, stepping past him, ignoring the way your skin still feels too hot. And as you walk away, you swear you can still hear him laughing.
You make your way back to the party, heart still racing from your conversation with Sunghoon. The music pulses through the air, a mix of laughter and chatter filling the space as you navigate through the crowd.
You spot Jake and Niki at a table surrounded by a group of familiar faces—Heeseung, Beomgyu, Soobin, Woonhak, Jungwon, Jay, Sunoo, Giselle, and Yeonjun. Niki stands up, animatedly gesturing with a drink in hand, clearly in the middle of one of his infamous speeches.
“And let me tell you, folks,” Niki booms, “life is like a pizza! You can have all the toppings in the world, but if the base is soggy, it’s just not gonna work!” The table erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but smile. Niki’s ridiculousness is contagious.
As you reach the table, you lean against it, slipping in beside Jungwon. You rest your head on his shoulder, the comfort of his presence settling your racing thoughts. He glances down at you, an amused glint in his eyes.
Jungwon glances down at you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You’ve really changed, haven’t you, Y/N?” he muses, a smirk tugging at his lips.
You blink up at him, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”
He scoffs, nudging you playfully. “You just stroll in here, all casual, after… whatever that was, and expect me to believe you’re only here for the pizza?”
You roll your eyes, the warmth of your earlier encounter with Sunghoon fading slightly in the comfort of your twin’s teasing. “I came for the pizza and Niki’s wisdom, obviously,” you reply, trying to sound serious.
Your brother chuckles, shaking his head as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in closer. You lean into him, the familiar warmth of his embrace making you feel safe and grounded.
But then your gaze drifts away from your brother and settles on Jake, who is seated next to Heeseung, laughter bubbling up between them. He’s animated, his eyes sparkling with joy as he jokes around, completely lost in the moment with his friends. Watching him, a wave of warmth washes over you, spreading from your chest to your fingertips.
In that moment, you can’t help but think how much you genuinely like him. The realization hits you with a gentle tug at your heart. If only you’d met under different circumstances, perhaps things would have been easier. Maybe you could have shared more moments like this, more laughter, and less confusion. The thought lingers in your mind, and you find yourself smiling softly as you wonder what the future might hold. Who knows? Maybe there’s a chance for something more between you two.
As if sensing your gaze, Jake looks over at you, a small smile spreading across his face. It’s the kind of smile that lights up his eyes, a mix of mischief and warmth, as if he knows he wants to be close to you but doesn't want to disrupt the fun he's having with his friends. You feel your cheeks warm at the sight, and for a moment, everything else fades away.
The energy in the room was electric, bodies swaying to the beat, laughter mixing with the music, until Niki broke through the crowd, breathless and wide-eyed. “Heeseung! Jake!” he called out, his excitement palpable. “You’ve got to see this! Whoopi Goldberg is on the dance floor right now!”
The mention of Whoopi had Beomgyu and Soobin leaning in, intrigued. “No way, are you serious?” Beomgyu asked, his expression shifting to one of genuine curiosity. “We have to go check that out.” Soobin nodded vigorously, already stepping forward.
Woonhak leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin on his face. “I actually talked to her earlier. She called me ‘Mr. Kim.’” He delivered the line nonchalantly, but the playful smirk on his face suggested he loved the attention.
Laughter erupted around the group, Jungwon and Jay nearly collapsing with mirth. Even Jake, who typically maintained a cool demeanor, couldn’t suppress a chuckle. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Niki seized his arm, pulling him toward the dance floor. “Let’s go, Jake!”
Watching them go, you felt a warmth spread through you. Jake looked so relaxed, so alive, his laughter ringing out amidst the chaos. It was a joy to see him enjoying himself without a care in the world.
“Hey,” Jungwon called, breaking you from your thoughts. “You wanna dance?”
With that, you followed Jungwon onto the dance floor, Jay, Sunoo, and Giselle close behind. The music pulsed around you, each beat vibrating through your chest. You lost yourself in the rhythm, spinning and laughing, letting the music take over.
Then you felt it—a shift in the atmosphere, something unsettling. You turned slightly, and there he was: Sunghoon, sauntering by with another girl, laughter escaping his lips like it was the soundtrack to your annoyance. The sight hit you hard, a surge of frustration bubbling up as you contemplated “accidentally” tripping him.
But no. You weren’t going to let him ruin your night. Not with your friends around, not with the music pumping, and definitely not when Whoopi Goldberg was potentially doing the cha-cha-slide somewhere in this building. You forced a smile, turned back to your friends, and kept dancing, determined to shake off the irritation.
Then, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, Sunghoon’s eyes locked onto yours. For a fleeting moment, everything around you fell silent, the air thick with tension. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but before he could, the girl beside him pulled him back into their conversation.
You turned away, your jaw clenching. The music and laughter felt distant now, as if you were watching the party unfold through a haze. Jungwon noticed the shift in your mood and leaned closer, concern etching his features. “You good?”
You nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
But as you moved to the beat, your gaze kept drifting back to Sunghoon, the weight of his presence hanging in the air like a cloud. The night was still young, yet suddenly, it felt a lot heavier.
After dancing for what felt like forever, the weight of your heels became unbearable. You decided it was time for a break. Spotting Sunoo chatting with Giselle, you made your way over. “Hey, I’m going to grab some slippers from my room,” you announced, already starting to walk away.
Sunoo raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. He gave you a knowing look. “Just be careful, because there’s someone watching you all the time.” His tone was teasing, but you knew exactly who he meant—Sunghoon. The unspoken tension between the two of you was palpable, and Sunoo was well aware of it.
“Yeah, well, I’m going to my room anyway,” you replied, already moving away, not bothering to hide your smile.
As you strolled down the dimly lit hallway, the party music faded into a distant buzz, leaving just the thumping of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. You could feel Sunghoon’s gaze boring into your back, a familiar presence that sent little shivers down your spine. You could practically picture him brushing off that girl who had been flirting with him just moments before, his signature smirk dismissing her advances like a pro. He had this crazy way of commanding attention, and somehow, you were caught right in the middle of it.
Stopping in front of your door, the cool metal handle felt like a nice break from the heat radiating off your skin. Just as you turned, Sunghoon rounded the corner, the flickering light catching his jawline, making him look almost otherworldly in the shadows. “You know,” you said, leaning against the doorframe, a playful smirk on your lips, “I totally knew you’d pull this. You’re pretty obvious.”
His lips curled into that signature smirk that always sent a jolt through you. He stepped closer, the air between you charged with an electric tension. “And you can’t seem to stay away, can you? It’s like you’re into this little game we’ve got,” he shot back, his tone playful but with a hint of something deeper.
“Oh, is that what this is? A game?” You crossed your arms, trying to hide how giddy you felt inside. The banter flowed easily, but you both knew there was a lot more going on under the surface.
“Definitely,” he leaned in a bit, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of mischief and challenge. “But don’t worry; I’m always down for a challenge. Especially with someone like you.”
Your heart raced at his proximity, a rush of adrenaline flooding your veins. You could feel your cheeks heating up, giving away the cool facade you were trying to maintain. “Well, you better keep up then,” you shot back, the words tumbling out with a surprising boldness.
Sunghoon chuckled softly, his amusement clear, but then his expression turned serious for a moment. “Oh, really? Should I?” His voice dropped low, each word hanging in the air, creating a charged intimacy that felt almost electric.
In that instant, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in your own bubble. The weight of unspoken words hovered between you, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the night was poised on the brink of something monumental. You could see the flicker of emotions dancing in his eyes, a mixture of challenge and desire, and it made your heart skip a beat.
“You know, I’m kinda tired of this back-and-forth game we’ve been playing,” he said, stepping even closer, a serious look crossing his face.
“Oh really? And what do you want, then?” You challenged, the playful banter tinged with curiosity.
“I want you, Y/N,” he admitted, the sincerity in his voice sending a thrill down your spine. “Not just this teasing dance.”
The seriousness in his tone made your breath hitch. It felt like a confession, raw and honest, cutting through the playful tension that had defined your interactions until now. You were caught off guard, your heart pounding louder in your ears. You met his gaze, a mix of surprise and something that felt like hope swirling in your chest.
He moved even closer, hovering just inches from you, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath brushed against your skin as he leaned in, almost whispering. “You talk about me being trouble, but let’s be honest—you’re worse than I am.”
Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of thrill and frustration bubbling inside you. “What are you even talking about?” You looked up at him, and the playful glint in his eyes made your heart race.
“Come on,” he teased, tilting his head slightly. He leaned in, brushing his lips just beside your ear, making your breath hitch. “You get jealous at me flirting with other girls, but you can’t expect me to just sit here while you fuck with Jake, either. It’s a two-way street, you know?”
He pulled back slightly, looking deep into your eyes, searching for a reaction. You felt a surge of irritation mix with a strange thrill at his words, his expression teasing yet sincere. “Fine,” you huffed, frustration bubbling to the surface. But the truth was, you wanted to fight against it, to challenge him. “Maybe I don’t want to keep playing games too.”
“Then what do you want, Y/N?” He stepped back, that playful glint returning to his eyes. “Tell me.”
You hesitated, the weight of his gaze pressing on you, and for a moment, all the teasing, all the games, melted away. “I want you to stop messing with my head and just be honest with me.”
Sunghoon’s expression softened slightly, and for a brief moment, the playful banter gave way to something deeper. “Alright, I can do that. I want you. No games.”
You felt your heart race at his admission, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks. “Okay,” you replied, your voice steady but laced with a hint of vulnerability. “No games.”
His lips curled into a knowing smirk, a challenge flickering in his eyes. “But even now, you’re still not making the first move, are you?”
You held his gaze, unflinching. The air was thick with tension, and the silence stretched between you, charged with anticipation. You didn’t want to be the first to break; instead, you leaned into the moment, your heart pounding as you locked your eyes onto his.
Instead of waiting for him to lean in, you took a step back, slowly opening your door and entering your room, all while keeping your eyes fixed on him. You moved in reverse, your gaze never leaving his, a playful yet inviting challenge dancing in your expression. The door creaked slightly as you stepped inside, the space now feeling intimate and charged.
Sunghoon followed you inside, his gaze intense as he stepped through the threshold. He closed the door behind him with a firm thud, the sound echoing in the small room, sealing you both in a world of your own. You could feel the heat radiating off him as he advanced, the atmosphere thick with unspoken desires.
You walked backward until the back of your knees met the edge of your bed, the soft mattress providing a stark contrast to the tension in the air. You felt the gentle push as you sat down, your eyes never leaving his. Sunghoon remained standing, towering over you, a smirk still playing on his lips.
Sunghoon stepped closer, his expression shifting to one of determination. “So, you think you can just tease me like this?” His voice dropped an octave, filled with a rough edge that sent shivers down your spine.
You held his gaze, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “I’m not scared of you,” you replied, trying to sound bold, but the way he looked at you made it hard to maintain your composure.
He smirked, a confident glint in his eyes. “Good, because I’m not playing games anymore.” With that, he took a step back, deliberately creating a bit of distance. You watched, curious, as he slowly removed his blazer, revealing a fitted shirt that clung to his frame. He left a few buttons undone, exposing just enough of his chest to make your heart race.
The sight of him, so effortlessly confident and attractive, made your breath hitch. You leaned back on your hands, your heart pounding as you assessed him, unable to look away. The playful banter had evaporated, leaving only a charged atmosphere between you.
“See something you like?” he teased, his voice low and taunting. The intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, making it hard to think straight.
“Maybe,” you replied, a hint of challenge in your tone, even as your body betrayed you, leaning slightly back, inviting him to close the distance.
Sunghoon stepped forward again, this time his presence more dominant, almost predatory. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, do you?” He leaned closer, making your heart race even faster. Standing before you, he towered over you, a commanding figure that filled the space with undeniable energy.
His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your chin, lifting it gently to meet his gaze. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt both vulnerable and exhilarated under his touch. “Look at me,” he urged softly, his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of intensity and something deeper swirling within them.
You held his gaze, feeling the weight of the moment, your heart pounding as he carefully maintained the connection. There was an undeniable tension in the air, charged with desire and anticipation.
“I want you to understand just how much I want this,” he murmured, his thumb stroking your chin lightly, sending electric sparks through you. It was a simple gesture, yet it felt like an invitation into something thrilling and unknown.
“I think I can say I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, heart racing as you laid your feelings bare.
“Oh, really?” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes, his lips curling into a smirk that sent butterflies swirling in your stomach. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly sank to his knees in front of you, a powerful move that made your breath hitch.
As he knelt, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in this charged atmosphere. He leaned in closer, his gaze locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached for your sandal, fingers brushing against your ankle as he began to slip it off.
You felt a rush of heat wash over you, the intimate gesture sending your mind into a whirl. You wanted to say something, to break the thick silence, but the way he looked at you left you momentarily speechless. His touch was gentle yet purposeful, a stark contrast to the fiery desire building between you.
With deliberate slowness, he moved to your second sandal, his fingers brushing your skin as he slipped it off. His gaze never faltered, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The world outside your room faded, and it felt like just the two of you existed in this electrifying moment.
As he slipped it off your foot, he leaned in closer, lifting your leg gently. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he pressed a soft kiss to your ankle, his lips warm against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver up your spine, and you could barely contain the gasp that escaped your lips.
Sunghoon pulled back slightly, his smirk widening as he caught sight of the goosebumps that had formed along your leg. “Did that feel good?” he teased, his voice low and filled with mischief.
You could only nod, overwhelmed by the mix of sensations coursing through you. The way he was looking at you, combined with his gentle touch, was driving you wild. He leaned back in, his lips brushing against your skin once more, trailing slow, deliberate kisses up the length of your calf, his touch featherlight yet searing against your skin. Each press of his mouth sent another wave of heat rolling through you, making it harder to focus on anything but the way he was worshipping you with every movement. When he reached your knee, he lingered, his breath hot against the sensitive skin there, before placing a final, lingering kiss just above it.
Then, he stopped. He straightened to his full height, towering over you once more, his eyes locked onto yours in a way that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. He looked at you like he was taking in every detail, every reaction, every silent plea hidden behind your parted lips.
“Stand up,” he murmured, his voice smooth but firm.
You hesitated for only a second before obeying, your body moving before your mind could catch up. As you rose to your feet, the space between you crackled with tension, the air thick with anticipation. Sunghoon stepped behind you, his presence overwhelming without even touching you. The warmth of his body was right there, just close enough to make your skin tingle, just far enough to make you ache for more.
“Turn around,” he instructed, and you felt the heat in his voice as you complied, slowly pivoting until your back was to him.
You held your breath, heart hammering in your chest as you felt his fingers brush over your shoulder, grazing the strap of your dress. He didn’t rush—no, he was taking his time, savoring every second. You could feel his breath ghosting over the nape of your neck, the sensation sending a delicious shudder through you.
His fingers trailed down the length of your spine, following the fabric of your dress as he reached for the zipper. But before he pulled it down, he leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing against the shell of your ear.
Sunghoon’s breath was warm against your ear, the tension between you thick enough to drown in. His fingers toyed with the zipper of your dress for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing over your skin as he spoke, voice low and dripping with amusement.
“Can I?” he murmured, his tone edged with something dark, something hungry, and you nodded.
And then, with a swift, decisive motion, he dragged the zipper down, the sound slicing through the silence. Your dress loosened instantly, slipping off your shoulders, the fabric pooling at your feet like it had simply given up under his touch.
Sunghoon took a small step back, just enough to take you in. His gaze darkened as it roamed over you, lingering on the deep blue lingerie that now stood between him and everything he wanted. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his smirk deepened.
“Fuck,” he exhaled, almost to himself. “Did you wear this for me?”
Before you could answer, he was already moving, his lips pressing against your bare shoulder, slow and deliberate, like he was marking his territory. His hands traced the curves of your waist before gripping your hips, pulling you back against him so you could feel exactly how much he wanted you.
“You like teasing me, don’t you?” he mused between kisses, his mouth trailing up the side of your neck, making you shudder. “Wearing something like this, knowing I’d see it.” His teeth grazed your skin, and you gasped, your body instinctively pressing closer. Sunghoon chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “I think you like being caught.”
His hands slid over your stomach before he turned you around in one fluid motion. The second your eyes met his, you reached for the buttons of his shirt, fingers working quickly, desperate to even the playing field. But you barely made it to the middle of his torso before Sunghoon caught your wrists, halting your movements.
His gaze was sharp, his smirk downright sinful. “Did I say you could take my shirt off?” he asked, tilting his head. “Good girls ask first.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and for a split second, all you could do was stare at him, heart pounding, lips parting in surprise.
The moment stretched between you for a beat—then, before you could react, Sunghoon pushed you back onto the bed. You barely had time to process the way your body sank into the mattress before he was over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your thigh, spreading you open beneath him.
His smirk was gone now. What replaced it was something darker, something dangerously close to pure need.
“Now,” he murmured, eyes locked onto yours. “Let’s see if you can be good for me after all.”
Sunghoon hovered over you, his body pressing into yours, his breath fanning against your lips, but still—still—he hadn’t kissed you yet. His eyes burned into yours, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your thigh, teasing, withholding, making you squirm beneath him.
You were done waiting. You reached up, fingers threading through his hair, tugging him down—but before your lips could meet, he let out a quiet chuckle, his mouth barely ghosting over yours.
“Impatient, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, with knowing.
You didn’t get a chance to respond, because in the next second, his lips finally crashed against yours, swallowing the air from your lungs. The kiss was nothing short of devastating.
His mouth moved against yours with an urgency that left you dizzy, like he’d been starving for this as much as you had. He didn’t hold back—he kissed you deep, kissed you like he wanted to ruin you, his hands tangling in your hair as he tilted your head back, demanding more, taking more.
You melted into him, nails digging into his back as his tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate at first, then more intense, more desperate. His teeth grazed your lower lip before he sucked it between his own, drawing a soft whimper from you. That sound only seemed to spur him on.
His hands roamed lower, gripping your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, like he was trying to fuse you together. The weight of him, the way he pressed into you with every shift of his body, had your head spinning.
Your fingers found their way to his shirt again, fumbling with the buttons, desperate to get it off, to feel his skin against yours. But just as you started to undo another one, Sunghoon suddenly grabbed your wrists, stopping you in your tracks.
His lips were swollen, his breathing uneven, but his voice was firm as he said, “What did I just say?”
You blinked up at him, dazed. “What?”
“I told you to ask first.” His voice dropped lower, more authoritative. His grip on your wrists tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you feel it.
Heat flooded through you, your breath catching at the way he looked at you—so in control, so effortlessly dominant. Still, you couldn’t help the whiny edge that crept into your voice. “But I—”
“Don’t start,” he cut you off, his tone sharp. His fingers traced down your arm, featherlight, sending a shiver through you. “You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?”
You swallowed hard, your heartbeat hammering in your ears. His words, his tone—it had you falling silent, something deep inside you tightening in response. Sunghoon’s smirk deepened, like he could see the exact moment you surrendered to him.
“Good girl,” he murmured, then leaned down, his lips crashing into yours again. This time, it was even more intense.
His kiss was all-consuming, leaving no space for hesitation. He devoured you, his tongue sliding against yours, slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every second. His hands roamed over your body, fingers digging into your waist, your hips, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough.
Then, suddenly, he pulled back. Still straddling you, Sunghoon shifted, moving up onto his knees. His hands went to the buttons of his shirt, and your breath caught as you watched him slowly undo them one by one. You lifted yourself slightly, propping up on your elbows, eyes locked onto him, completely transfixed. The way his fingers moved, the slow reveal of his toned chest—it was hypnotizing, addictive.
He caught you staring, smirking. You swallowed, your cheeks burning, but you didn’t look away. Then he paused, his fingers still on the last few buttons. His gaze met yours, dark and unreadable. “Ask.”
Your lips parted slightly, your breath shaky as you whispered, “Can I touch you, Hoon?”
For a second, he just stared at you, like he was drinking in the way you looked—needy, desperate, completely at his mercy. Then, finally, he gave a small nod. You wasted no time. Your hands reached out, fingers sliding against his skin as you slowly pushed his shirt open. Your touch was soft, reverent, tracing over his chest, his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips.
You leaned forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest as you worked on the last of the buttons, your lips trailing down the hard planes of his body, tasting him, feeling every flex of his muscles under your touch. The shirt slipped off his shoulders, falling to the bed, forgotten.
Your hands moved lower, gliding over his abs, down to the waistband of his pants. Your breath hitched as you hesitated there, glancing up at him, waiting, asking without words. His eyes darkened. Without a word, he reached down, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, slow, teasing.
“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement, with something deeper. His thumb pressed just slightly against your lip, feeling the way it parted under his touch. “So obedient.”
A shiver ran down your spine. You swallowed hard, your entire body buzzing under his touch. Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, still toying with your bottom lip beneath his thumb. “Tell me what you want.”
Your heart pounded in your chest. Your face felt like it was on fire, but you forced the words out, even if your voice came out softer than you intended. “I want you.”
Something dark flashed in his gaze, his smirk widening as if he’d been waiting to hear that. He straightened up, stepping back slightly until he was standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at you.
“Then be a good girl and get on your knees for me.”
A fresh wave of heat surged through you at his words. You shifted, moving carefully until you were kneeling at the edge of the bed, looking up at him, heart racing in anticipation.
Sunghoon’s smirk never faltered. He let you settle into position before speaking again. “Take them off.” Your hands moved almost on their own, reaching for his belt, fingers fumbling slightly from the sheer tension in the air. You undid the buckle, the soft clinking sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. The button came next, then the zipper, your fingertips grazing the warm skin of his lower abdomen as you tugged the fabric down.
You took your time, dragging his pants down inch by inch, your fingers brushing against the firm muscles of his thighs, your breath coming out uneven as more of him was revealed to you. The air between you felt heavy, thick with anticipation, as the fabric slipped lower, pooling around his ankles.
Now, he was standing over you in nothing but his boxers, the outline of him straining against the fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. Your mouth went dry. Heat coiled low in your stomach, an intoxicating mix of arousal and the sheer intensity of the moment.
Sunghoon let out a low chuckle at your expression, dark amusement dancing in his eyes. He reached down, his fingers tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was a slow, teasing drawl, dripping with amusement, with control.
You weren’t sure if it was his tone, the way he looked at you, or the fact that you could feel his heat, inches away from your lips, but you felt dizzy. Your breath shuddered as you leaned in, your lips hovering just over the hard outline beneath his boxers, your eyes flicking up to meet his again, filled with nothing but quiet submission.
Sunghoon hummed, his smirk deepening. “Uh-uh.” His fingers traced along the side of your face before sliding into your hair, gripping it lightly. “You have to ask first, baby.”
Your stomach clenched. The grip in your hair wasn’t tight, but it was firm enough to remind you who was in charge. Your lips parted, voice coming out softer than you intended. “Please, Hoon…”
His expression remained unchanged, feigning innocence. “Please what?”
You swallowed, your heart hammering as you tilted your head, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss against his lower abdomen. His scent overwhelmed you, making you lightheaded. Your hands lifted to his hips, playing with the hem of his boxers, teasing the waistband between your fingers. “Let me take these off.”
Sunghoon inhaled slowly through his nose, looking down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. The hand in your hair tightened slightly, tilting your head back further. “Say please.”
You exhaled shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”
Something flickered in his gaze—satisfaction, control. It was a look that sent another wave of heat rushing through you, making your entire body feel hyperaware of the moment. The way he loomed over you, his chest rising and falling steadily, the grip he still had in your hair—it all made you feel small in the best possible way. Then, his smirk returned, slow and knowing, his head tilting just slightly as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip, pressing down lightly, testing you. “Go ahead, baby.”
Your fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers, and you took your time, dragging the fabric down slowly, purposefully, letting your nails graze against his hips as you went. As soon as he was bare, your breath hitched. You felt lightheaded with anticipation, the heat pooling low in your stomach tightening at the sight of him, already so hard for you. Sunghoon was big.
Your lips parted, a quiet, shaky breath escaping as you immediately leaned in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the base of his cock. His grip in your hair tightened, his chest rising with a sharp inhale as you trailed your lips up his length, your tongue tracing the prominent vein that ran along the side.
“Fuck.” His voice came out low, wrecked, his head tipping back just slightly before his gaze returned to you, dark and heavy-lidded.
You took your time, your tongue teasing him with deliberate, languid licks, savoring the weight of him, the warmth of his skin against your mouth. Sunghoon’s breathing grew heavier, his fingers tightening in your hair as he guided you subtly, his hips barely shifting forward, making you gasp.
“Just like that, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. “So fucking good.”
The praise only fueled you, made you more eager, more desperate to please. You wrapped your lips around him, taking him in slowly, inch by inch, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked. His reaction was immediate—a sharp exhale through his nose, his jaw clenching, his grip tightening just enough to make you whimper.
“Look at you,” he muttered, his thumb tracing your lower lip again when you pulled back slightly, your lips slick and swollen. “So fucking eager, huh?”
You nodded, your breath coming in shallow, uneven pants, your pupils blown wide as you looked up at him, your lips slick and swollen. He shook his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as his fingers tightened in your hair, guiding you back down. You leaned in again, parting your lips and taking him in, slow and deliberate at first, before hollowing your cheeks and sucking, letting your tongue drag along the underside of his cock, feeling the way he pulsed under your touch. His breathing hitched, a quiet curse slipping from his lips as his hand flexed in your hair.
“Fuck, just like that,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “You take me so well, baby. Such a good fucking girl.”
The praise only made you more eager, made you want to pull more sounds from him, made you want to push him further. Your hands gripped at his thighs as you moved, setting a steady pace, swallowing around him, letting out soft little moans that you knew would drive him insane. His hips twitched, just barely holding himself back from thrusting into your mouth.
Then, suddenly, his grip in your hair tightened sharply, pulling you back with a swift, firm motion. Your lips slipped from his cock with a soft, wet pop, and you blinked up at him, dazed, your mind foggy with the haze of arousal. Confusion flickered in your expression, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you searched his face, but he only smirked at you, his gaze dark and heavy-lidded.
Without a word, he let go of your hair and moved, shifting back onto the bed, sitting against the headboard, his legs spread lazily apart like he had all the time in the world. He propped an arm behind his head, watching you with an almost lazy amusement, like he was enjoying every second of making you wait.
Then, his voice cut through the thick silence. “Take those off for me.”
Your stomach clenched at his tone—low, commanding, expectant. You swallowed, nodding as you slowly got to your feet, standing at the edge of the bed as you reached for the straps of your bra.
Sunghoon’s gaze never left you, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he watched, his dark eyes flickering with anticipation. You dragged the straps down your shoulders, letting the fabric slip down inch by inch, revealing your bare chest. His smirk widened as he caught sight of it, his eyes darkening, his fingers flexing against his thigh. You let your underwear pool at your feet, and you could feel the hunger in his expression, the way his fingers twitched like he was resisting the urge to reach out and grab you.
Then, he tilted his head, patting his thigh once, his voice smooth, teasing. “Come here, pretty.”
Your breath hitched, your skin prickling with anticipation as you moved towards him, crawling onto the bed, your movements slow and deliberate, almost feline, like you were savoring every second of this.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice nothing but smooth approval. “So fucking pretty for me.”
The moment you were close enough, his hands found your waist, his grip firm, possessive—grounding you even as the rest of your body buzzed with anticipation. You hovered over him, your palms pressed against his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. His fingers dragged along your sides, slow and deliberate, like he was committing every inch of you to memory, like he had no intention of rushing this.
And then he saw it. A darkened mark blooming against your collarbone, the unmistakable imprint of lips and teeth that weren’t his.
Sunghoon stilled, his smirk curling at the edges as his fingers ghosted over the bruise. Amusement flickered in his eyes as he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I knew he was going to mark you…” His voice was soft, teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something darker, something claiming.
Before you could respond, his lips were on you, tracing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. He took his time, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot before sinking his teeth in just enough to make you shudder.
“And I knew you were gonna let him,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with amusement. His lips moved higher, grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “You can’t control yourself, can you?”
A sharp smack landed on your ass before you could process his words. You gasped, the sting spreading deliciously through your skin, and your eyes shot to him in shock, only to find him already watching you, biting down a smirk. He tilted his head slightly, gaze dark, knowing. “You like that, huh?” His fingers kneaded at the spot, soothing the burn even as his smirk grew.
Your breath hitched, the heat in your stomach curling even tighter. You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”
Sunghoon let out a soft, breathy laugh, his hand squeezing your waist, grounding you as he pulled you closer. “I knew you were dirty like this.”
And then his lips were on you again, but this time, lower. He kissed down the valley between your breasts, slow and teasing, his tongue darting out to taste your skin before he bit down gently, sucking another mark into your flesh. His hands smoothed over your thighs, squeezing, gripping, before sliding up to cup your chest, his thumbs brushing over your already hardened nipples.
He took his time with you, savoring every reaction, every little gasp, every arch of your body against him. It was intoxicating, the way he could pull sounds from you with just his mouth, just his hands. You whimpered as he dragged his tongue over your sensitive skin, your hips involuntarily rolling against his stomach, seeking friction, seeking anything.
His grip on your hips tightened instantly, stilling your movements. “Behave,” he said, his voice low, commanding, a warning.
A thrill shot through you at his tone, at the weight of his control, but you weren’t ready to submit just yet. You met his gaze, tilting your head slightly, feigning innocence. “Or what?”
His smirk widened, slow, almost lazy, like he was waiting for you to say that. Like he’d been hoping you would. “Oh, sweetheart…” His fingers dug into your skin, his voice dropping into something deeper, darker, full of promise. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
Before you could process, he moved. A sharp gasp left your lips as Sunghoon flipped you onto the mattress in one swift, effortless motion, pinning your body beneath him. His hands were on you immediately—strong, commanding, securing your wrists above your head with ease. His grip was firm, his body caging you in, leaving you completely at his mercy.
Your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths as you stared up at him, wide-eyed, your skin burning everywhere he touched. His gaze was dark, filled with something primal, something almost dangerous. And then he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the lightest of touches before he bit down on your lower lip, sharp enough to make you whimper.
A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath fanning over your lips. “What do you want?” His voice was deep, teasing, dripping with control.
Your body arched instinctively, your thighs squeezing together in desperate search of relief, but you couldn’t move—not with the way he had you pinned so effortlessly beneath him. A whimper escaped you, but no words followed. Sunghoon smirked.
His grip on your wrists shifted, securing them in one hand, while his free hand trailed down your jaw, his fingers gripping your chin with just enough force to make you shiver. He tilted your face up, forcing you to meet his eyes, his thumb brushing slowly over your parted lips.
“Tell me,” he murmured, his tone leaving no room for defiance.
Your breath hitched, your body writhing under him, and when you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper. “Fuck me, Sunghoon.”
He hummed, tilting his head, pretending to think. “Didn’t quite hear you, baby.” His hips lowered, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing, taunting, making you gasp. Your entire body trembled beneath him, the ache inside you growing unbearable.
A frustrated whine left your lips, your voice turning desperate, pleading. “I want you to fuck me, Sunghoon.”
He let out a dark, satisfied chuckle. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Before you could take another breath, his hand was between your legs, fingers gliding through your wetness, spreading you open. The teasing circles he drew over your clit made your thighs shake, your body twitching at every deliberate, calculated movement.
“Fuck,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. His fingers pressed down harder, rubbing slow, languid strokes that sent shocks of pleasure straight to your core. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”
You whimpered, your back arching against his touch. “Don’t tease me, please… I need you.”
Sunghoon smirked against your skin, his lips brushing the spot just beneath your ear before he murmured, “I need to prep you first.” His fingers dipped lower, sliding between your folds, teasing at your entrance. “Don’t want to hurt my pretty girl.” His voice was soft, almost affectionate. He lets go of your wrists, and you hold on to his arms.
His fingers slipped inside you with ease, stretching you open, filling you in a way that had your back arching off the mattress. A choked moan escaped your lips, your fingers curling into the sheets beneath you as Sunghoon worked you open, his movements slow at first—teasing, purposeful.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, watching your face closely, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “So fucking good for me.”
His fingers moved faster, deeper, the lewd sounds of your wetness filling the room, only fueling the fire in his darkened gaze. Your thighs trembled, your body tightening around him, the pressure in your stomach coiling impossibly tight. He could feel it—how close you were. And he wanted to push you over that edge.
“Tell me…” His voice was low, almost a growl, as his fingers pumped into you with merciless precision. “Did he treat you nice like this?”
Your mind was hazy, the pleasure consuming you whole. You couldn’t even form words, couldn’t respond—all you could do was moan, your nails digging into his forearm as his pace quickened.
Sunghoon clicked his tongue, shaking his head with mock disapproval. “Can’t answer me?” His free hand came up, gripping your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. His thumb dragged along your swollen lips, smearing the drool that had gathered there. “You’re so fucking eager, aren’t you? Wanting two cocks at the same time… so greedy.”
His words sent a new wave of heat through your body, shame and arousal intertwining in a way that made you squirm beneath him. “But I’m gonna ruin you for every other man,” he murmured darkly, leaning down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You hear me?”
The coil inside you snapped, your orgasm crashing over you so intensely that you couldn’t do anything but cry out his name, your thighs trembling, your body convulsing beneath him as you unraveled onto his fingers.
Sunghoon groaned, watching you fall apart with hooded eyes, completely mesmerized. Slowly, he pulled his fingers from your soaked heat, bringing them up to his lips before slipping them into his mouth, his tongue swirling around them, savoring the taste of you.
“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his voice hoarse with desire.
You barely had time to recover, your body still trembling in the aftershocks, before he was positioning himself in front of you, his cock in hand, the tip already leaking against your entrance.
He looked at you then—really looked at you. Your eyes were dazed, pupils blown wide, lips parted as you gazed up at him with a look that made his breath hitch.
“Are you okay?” His voice was softer now, a hint of something almost tender behind the rough dominance he exuded. You nodded quickly, biting your lip, anticipation swirling in your stomach as you ached to feel him inside you. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he murmured, stroking your thigh, his restraint evident in the tension in his muscles.
Sunghoon was big, and the mere thought of him stretching you open made you whimper. You looked up at him with wide, needy eyes, an innocent expression that only fueled the hunger in his gaze. His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around your thigh.
“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging the tip of his cock over your clit, rolling it in slow circles, making your body twitch beneath him. “You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?” You could only nod, your breath hitching, your body strung so tight that you thought you might go insane if he didn’t fill you soon.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he murmured, his voice slightly strained, as if he was holding himself back. You nodded again, appreciating the gentleness beneath his roughness, the way he still cared even while acting completely in control.
And then, finally, he pushed in—the thick head of his cock stretching you open, sinking into you inch by inch. Your body clenched around him, the feeling overwhelming, pleasure spreading through you like fire.
Your eyes rolled back, a moan slipping past your lips as you let your head fall completely against the bed, your hands gripping onto his strong biceps, needing something to ground you.
Sunghoon groaned lowly, watching the way your body took him, the way you squeezed around him so perfectly. “Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice strained, his control hanging by a thread. “You feel so fucking tight.”
His grip on your thigh was possessive, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he slowly pushed inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. The slow, deliberate pace was maddening, the tease unbearable, but he seemed to revel in it—watching the way your body reacted to him, the way your lips parted in breathless moans, the way your fingers clawed at his biceps, desperate for more.
Your forehead pressed against his, both of you breathing heavily, lost in the intoxicating heat of each other’s touch. The room felt electric, the air thick with tension, every sound amplified—the slick slide of him moving inside you, the breathy whimpers escaping your lips, the deep, guttural moans he let out every time your walls clenched around him.
His hold tightened, fingers bruising as he gripped the back of your thigh, spreading you wider for him, as if he wanted to claim every inch of you. His lips ghosted over yours, teasing, never quite kissing you, just breathing you in, his warm breath fanning over your flushed skin.
“You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?” His voice was a dark whisper against your lips. You could only nod, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. “Say it.” His hips rolled forward, a deep thrust that had your eyes rolling back, your nails scratching down his toned back.
“I—” You gasped, barely able to form words. “I wanted this so bad.”
Sunghoon groaned, his self-control slipping as he pulled back slightly before snapping his hips forward again, burying himself deeper inside you. The stretch burned in the best way possible, a delicious ache that made your head spin. He was so big, filling you to the brim, making you feel completely owned, completely his.
His pace was still torturously slow, but each thrust was deep, deliberate, making you feel every inch of him. He watched your face intently, taking in every reaction, every twitch of your brows, every gasp and moan that tumbled from your lips.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your body, fingers wrapping around your throat, just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. “So fucking desperate.” You whimpered, your hands flying up to grasp at his wrist, not to pull him away but to hold onto him, to ground yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.
His thumb dragged over your lower lip, pressing against the soft flesh before slipping into your mouth. “Suck.” You obeyed without thinking, lips wrapping around his thumb, tongue swirling over the pad of it as you gazed up at him with glassy eyes. “Fuck,” he muttered, his restraint snapping.
He pulled his thumb from your mouth, replacing it with his lips as he kissed you with a hunger that left you breathless. His pace quickened, hips slamming into yours with a force that made the bed creak beneath you.
The shift in tempo had you gasping, whimpering against his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, pulling him in deeper. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the rhythmic, wet sounds of him fucking into you, mixed with your broken moans and his deep, raspy groans.
“You take me so fucking well,” he praised, his lips dragging down your jaw, to the curve of your neck, where he sucked and nipped, leaving his mark. “My good girl. So tight. So perfect.”
Your body arched into him, every nerve ending ignited, your head spinning with pleasure. You could feel it building again—that familiar, fiery coil in your stomach, tightening with every thrust, with every filthy word he whispered into your ear.
“Sunghoon—” You gasped, hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “I’m—” He groaned, sensing exactly how close you were.
“Not yet,” he growled, pulling out almost completely before slamming back inside you, his pace relentless now, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had you trembling. “You’re gonna cum when I say you can, baby.”
You whined, body betraying you, your walls fluttering around him, your muscles locking up as you teetered on the edge of oblivion. “Hold it.” His voice was dark, commanding, but his own resolve was slipping. He was close too, his thrusts growing erratic, deeper, harder.
You couldn’t. You physically couldn’t. Your body was on fire, your mind blank, pleasure consuming you whole. “Sunghoon, please,” you sobbed, shaking beneath him.
His hand wrapped around your throat again, squeezing just enough to send you spiraling, his voice a breathy groan as he finally gave you permission.
“Cum for me.”
And you did.
Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, so intense it stole the breath from your lungs, your vision blurring as your body convulsed beneath him. Your walls clenched around him, pulsing, milking him for everything he had.
“Fuck—” Sunghoon groaned, his movements growing sloppy, his grip tightening as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release hitting him like a freight train. His body tensed, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside you, filling you with warmth, his breath ragged against your ear.
The room was silent except for the sound of heavy breathing, both of you completely spent, bodies tangled together in the sheets. Sunghoon pressed lazy kisses to your jaw, your collarbone, your lips, his touch softer now, almost gentle.
Your body felt weightless, as if you were floating in the haze of pleasure that still clung to you, leaving you warm and blissfully dazed. Your limbs were heavy, spent, but his touch—gentle, soothing—kept you tethered to reality.
“You okay?” Sunghoon murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, but still laced with concern. His fingers found your face, brushing away the damp strands of hair sticking to your forehead. His eyes, still dark with the remnants of desire, softened when they met yours.
You nodded weakly, your body still buzzing, your mind slow to catch up. He smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, slow and tender, as if savoring the taste of you, before rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. Your body draped over his chest, his warmth seeping into you, anchoring you in a way that made you want to stay like this forever.
His fingers traced absentminded patterns along the bare skin of your back—slow, lazy circles, up and down your spine, making you shiver despite the heat radiating from his body. His other hand, rough yet careful, brushed over your arm, then your waist, like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you, like he needed to remind himself that you were still there, tangled up with him in the sheets.
A deep sigh left his lips, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you, the rhythm soothing, hypnotic. You pressed your cheek against his heart, listening to the soft thump, feeling the way it still raced slightly, evidence of how much he had wanted you, how much you had affected him.
For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was full, heavy with unspoken words, but not in a way that begged for answers. It was enough just to be here, wrapped up in each other, breathing the same air, feeling the same warmth.
Then, after a moment, his hand came up to cup the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair, massaging your scalp in slow, rhythmic motions. A small hum of pleasure escaped you at the comforting sensation, making him chuckle under his breath.
“Feels good?” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. You nodded again, too content to form words.
He shifted slightly, adjusting so that you were more securely nestled against him, his grip tightening as if he were afraid you might slip away. “I like this,” he admitted, voice quieter now, more raw. “Having you like this. Feels… different.”
You lifted your head slightly, just enough to look at him, your fingers trailing over his collarbone, tracing the defined lines of his chest. “Different how?”
His eyes flickered down to you, something unreadable swirling in them. His thumb stroked the curve of your hip, his lips parting slightly before he hesitated. Then, with a quiet sigh, he muttered, “I don’t know. Just… good.”
Your heart clenched at the way he said it—so unguarded, so unlike the teasing, cocky Sunghoon you were used to. This was different. This was intimacy in its purest form, something unspoken lingering between the two of you, too fragile to name, but too strong to ignore. You pushed yourself up slightly, just enough to hover over him, your fingers still lazily tracing along his chest. “You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered. “I get it.”
His gaze searched yours for a moment before he exhaled, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He reached up, brushing his knuckles against your cheek before guiding your lips back down to his. This kiss was different from before—no urgency, no hunger, just something soft, something deeper. He kissed you like he was trying to memorize you, like he wanted to leave a piece of himself behind in every press of his lips against yours.
You melted into him, sighing into the kiss, your hands coming up to frame his face, fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled you even closer. He kissed you slowly, taking his time, as if you had all the time in the world.
When he finally pulled away, his lips lingered against yours, his breath warm as he murmured, “Next time…” You swallowed, waiting, your body already shivering at the thought of what he might say next. “…I’m not letting you off so easy.” His voice was teasing, but the promise behind it sent a thrill down your spine.
You bit your lip, a lazy smile playing on your lips before leaning in to press a soft kiss against the sharp line of his jaw. “I think I’d like that,” you whispered, the tease in your voice making Sunghoon let out a low, satisfied chuckle.
Without a word, he pulled you in closer, rolling onto his side until your back was flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist with a possessive kind of ease. His hand smoothed over your stomach, fingertips tracing light patterns against your skin, grounding himself in the warmth of you.
He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, and for a second, he just held you there—basking in the way you fit so perfectly against him. The thought crossed his mind, unbidden, that he liked having you like this, wrapped up in him, safe in his arms.
But he’d never admit that.
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author's note: SOOOOO.... LMAOOOOO READER IS THIS YOU RN?????
my best friend read this chapter and absolutely lost her mind so i’m taking that as a good sign LMAO also sorry for the length, i know it’s longer than usual but hopefully it’s worth it 👀
this is only the second smut scene i’ve ever written and i can’t believe it actually turned out good??? like hello since when do i have this talent i’m actually shook. anyway, i’m gonna take a little longer than usual to post the next update, so savor this one while you can 😌 BYEEEEE
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new yuu for the scara manga. Credits to magister_xehanort on reddit. Doesn't she looks cool?!! She kinda gives me kalim vibes since she looks bubbly. What do you think miss raven?
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I already gave my (very brief) preliminary thoughts on our new Yuu, Yuuna Oujou (I must stress it is NOT Ojou) in this post. I would be more than happy to expand on those thoughts here though ^^
So firstly, this Yuu is a girl--and a very feminine presenting one at that. This supports the theory that each manga!Yuu will be going in the boy-girl-boy-girl order, or perhaps the opposite gender of the Great Seven member of each book/dorm.
I think it's great that we have a very femme Yuu in official Twst media; it definitely adds to the diversity of the Yuuniverse. I especially appreciate what this implies about the NRC cast: they don't treat a girly girl significantly differently (whether being overly nice, overly mean, or overly awkward around her) than they would a masculine-presenting or nonbinary Yuu.
One thing I LOVE about Yuuna is that she actually has several unique interactions with the NRC cast and the world. Part of why I don't like Yuuken or Yuuka as much is because their level-headed personalities didn't lead to them really changing much about how they interacted with this new environment + people (other than the occasional change, like Yuuka squaring up to fight). I liked Yuuta a lot more because he has way more moments to "be himself" in the world, like using his cooking to convince Leona to let him sleep over in Savanaclaw, being softer around Jack, and having a backbone when Grim tries to hurriedly cram food into his mouth before class. Yuuna goes even FURTHER than that. She has her own nicknames for each character, takes selfies with them, literally plunges into Kalim's Oasis Maker water without a care in the world, plays dress-up with the shiny stuff in Scarabia's storage room, freaks out about the bugs in Ramshackle, and SO much more. Yuuna legitimately feels like a part of this world rather than a passenger in it.
I think we should talk more about how Yuuna dresses! This is known as gyaru, which is a Japanese fashion subculture typically known for its rebellious outfits, tanned skin, big and/or dyed or bleached hair, many accessories, and exaggerated makeup. It is also associated with a particular attitude or behaviors, such as being outgoing, sociable, and energetic. The name gyaru (ギャル) originates from a Japanese transliteration of the English word 'gal'. I believe the style originally developed in the 1970s as a statement of nonconformity to Japanese beauty standards (which emphasizes being pale-skinned, dark-haired, and demure in their appearance). Gyaru was originally considered very inappropriate, and the older generation tend to stereotype it as frivolous and associated with adolescent delinquency. In the west, it was even sometimes mistaken as racist depictions of dark-skinned people. Nowdays, gyaru is more understood as being a way for people to break out of conventional beauty standards set upon them by society.
What Yuuna wears, as one of the anons shares, is a substyle of gyaru called kogal or kogyaru (子ギャル or コギャル). The 子 or コ (ko) in kogyaru means "child", referring to the childishness or youthfulness of those who typically wear this fashion. It is defined by those who wear clothes resembling Japanese high school uniforms with alterations and flairs made to them. (These alterations are usually frowned upon, as Japanese schools are very strict about wearing their uniform properly.) This could include alterations in color, wearing one's uniform differently, wearing loose socks, shortening the skirt, and/or adding accessories to bags. We may also see bleached hair and/or tanned skin. This substyle formed in the late 1980s and early 1990s, but is popular in modern day, as it has been picked up and promoted by Japanese media.
As I mentioned in the original post, Yuuna comes from the countryside and she helps her family out on their rice fields. However, her dream is to become a model in Tokyo (this is what her audition was for).
We don't get to see a lot of her parents, but I don't get the impression that they disapprove of her fashion or life choices. They just short of tell her off for looking at magazines while she's supposed to be doing something else. They allow her to go to a modeling audition too, rather than taking efforts to prevent it or to shame her from going. There's also no bullying alluded to or mentioned; I genuinely don't think Yuuna is supposed to have a tragic background. (None of the other manga!Yuus did, either.) She just has an interest in this fashion, and there doesn't have to be a deep or trauma-related reason for it. Simply her being into the gyaru subculture makes her a foil to Jamil. Gyaru is all about expressing oneself, even if society frowns upon it. Yuuna is able to be "true to herself" in this way, despite coming from a humble background. She is also willing and able to help her family out with their rice fields--but her aspirations lie elsewhere. Jamil isn't able to do the same. His family actively opposes his decisions and put him in a position where he isn't able to freely express himself or pursue anything other than what he was born into. He comes to resent what his family does and how he is forced to comply with it.
It's also interesting that her bubbly personality is also similar to Kalim's. Yuuna is shown to get along with him very well and is super friendly to the other NRC students, just like Kalim is. I wonder if this also plays into why Jamil thinks she can be easily manipulated (since he was also able to easily manipulate Kalim in book 4). He may underestimate them because of their similar personalities.
One last thing I want to note is 🤔 Yuuna continues the pattern of all manga!Yuus having surnames related to death... Her surname, Oujou, sounds like おうじょう or 往生際 (oujougiwa), a word that can mean "rebirth in another world", "a calm and peaceful death, "to breathe one's last", and/or "the moment before death/the brink of death". Ominous...
#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland#twst manga#twisted wonderland manga#episode of scarabia#episode of scarabia manga#Jamil Viper#Yuuna Oujou#Oujou Yuuna#notes from the writing raven#question#Yuuken Enma#Enma Yuuken#Hirasaka Yuuka#Yuuka Hirasaka#Yuuta Mito#Mito Yuuta#Kalim Al-Asim#Scarabia#Grim#Jack Howl#book 4 spoilers
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maria's fic recs
i have realized how most of these are smut & idk what that says about me but alas this are some super super amazing talented people who write crazy cool stories!!!! check them out!!!!! make sure to follow, reblog & comment on these fics if you like them!!! these incredible fic writers deserve it! i will also probably be adding more as i read follow my fic rec page for more @mariasficrecs if anyone mentioned in this post wants to be removed let me know <3
spencer reid
cedar - @parfaitblogs summary: in which compatible bodies does not always mean compatible minds, but spencer reid is all too kind when you're like this, so perhaps you're allowed to forget that for a night.
this is the fic for the girlies who have loved someone more than they should, more than they loved you back and more than was every healthy. this is the kind of fic that makes you reread certain lines just to punch yourself in the chest a second time. masterpiece in pining, delusion, and tragic devotion. the most gorgeous piece of writing truthfully
in my dream im fixing your crutch - @notlongtolove summary: most nights, spencer wakes to the sound of your sniffles—unlike most nights, he doesn’t have to ask why. the reason is visceral, tangible—staining the sheets when the wound dressing wasn’t tight enough, seeping and pooling right between the both of you where an ocean of your guilt already lies.
this and everythingggg p writes is so incredibly SHATTERING in the best way possible. i truly need everyone to follow rn! and reader everything written by them! but this one specifically wasn't just a fic it was an experience. it's so painful and beautiful and so unfairly written. the duality of intimacy and violence is insaneeeeee like shakespearean level.
into the rose garden; for evermore - @notlongtolove summary: months of hope, weeks of ache. you’ve stayed. you’ve waited. you’ve stayed in the waiting. more pathetic than poetic if you’re being honest. but now, with him standing here with his heart in his hands, it doesn’t feel simple.
might be my favorite fic ive ever read if im being honest. everything about it had me sobbing like a baby. it's not even angst at this point it's a biblical reckoning. p has made heartbreak into a single character, personified pain and i felt every freaking piece of it actually! every single line was freaking perfection & you get to choose your ending!!!!!!! because user notlongtolove is so cool and so creative.
i can do a lot with fifteen minutes - @reidrum summary: in which you and spencer don't make it out the door on date night
i love a sabrina reference (clearly) and this was just the perfect smut fic literally like poetry disguised as desire. i have read a lot of smut (u got me). but nothing compares to a good intimate zipper scene. i will eat it up everytime!!!!!!! and a mirror scene!!!!! double whammy. fantastic 10000/10
hypothalamus - @reidrum summary: in which spencer gets creative on helping you study for your exam
godddddds to have spencer reid talk nerdy to me in bed. so in character. essentially the anatomy lesson of the gods actually. so amazing
sobriquet - @siriuslylantsov summary: spencer reacts to you calling him a nickname for the first time.
so sweet, so fluffy, a love letter to everything good in the world, essentially love seeping into mundane which is my favorite genre!!!! waking up with spencer!! being in love!! angel!!!! i love spencer calling the reader angel girl!!!!! <3
sweeter - @siriuslylantsov summary: in which, you and spencer try out foodplay, through use of whipped cream.
whipped cream!!!!!!!!! i dont have many words other than that! must read
white noise - @brattyspence summary: spencer x reader -- a situationship defined by white noise; a metaphor for how we pacify ourselves and make stupid decisions to experience comfort, even when it hurts
visceral, soul-shattering, gut wrenching agony. that's about it. slow burn destruction that will have you crying. no doubt. this fic literally lulls you into a false sense of security and then u realize that spencer is white noise and that you'd rather have whatever this is than nothing at all. LOL! definitely did not almost kill me while reading. most accurate portrayal of a situationship
chateau lobby #4 - @burymagdalene summary: Whilst trying to navigate romantic relationships after prison, Spencer finds himself in love and caught in an all-too-serious non-relationship with reader. Wanting to break this streak, he asks to spend Valentine's Day properly with a real date. Afterward, they find themselves desperate with trying to express their love for each other.
so as you might be able to tell i have a pattern of reading situationship spence! call me a masochist! but this one had a happy ending okay!!!!!!!! and a reference to father john misty? yes. immediately. i also just love post prison reid because he's so complicated and different but still him and he doesnt think he deserves soft things and soft love and it's so devastating. reading the date literally felt like falling in love in real time. so good.
a closed mouth doesn't get fed - @burymagdalene summary: When reader notices Spencers dark circles and glossy eyes, they store away their pressing need for him in bed. This desire locked away forms into a wet dream that escalates their prior expectations substantially.
one of the best portrayals of sleep-deprived, love-drunk, desperate sex. that's it. that's the tweet. also when he switches the reader's straw like why was that so sweet to me im crying
xoxo - @pathologicalreid summary: in which your daughter goes to the BAU to hand out her extra Valentines
peak domesticity. i love girl dad spence so much it's not even funny. it's everything he deserves. like i can only hope in some alternate au this is the ending reid got <3
to talk is to bare - @esote-rika summary: three times you've never felt enough for Spencer Reid—and the three times he rectified it immediately
one of the most painfully real depiction of navigating self worth in a relationship with spencer. like exactly what i feel like it would be like to be with someone so brilliant and like so unattainable-seeming, while feeling ordinary and yet spencer makes the reader feel so special ugh
in infinite universes - @nereidprinc3ss summary: in which spencer reid picks up uni!reader from a party. you're drunk, and he's in love with you
there is not a single thing (cannot emphasize this enough) that i won't read from nereidprinc3ss okay? everything she writes is actually literary gold. but this one was so beautiful it almost hurts to reid because it's literally a love letter to inevitability!!!!! and the dialogue is so funny and flirty and so spencer and ugh it's so raw and real.
spencer reid & aaron hotchner
unknown territory - @minswriting Spencer walks in on Aaron going down on you. So he watches the two of you have sex.
had to take multiple breathers after reading this! everyone knows i love hotch and reid and even more so i loveeeee a why choose. also everything min writes is so hot, 10/10 recommend checking out her account. "reid, if you're going to stand there and watch, you can at least come in and close the door" hello????????? immediately yes.
aaron hotchner
crazy - @kimstills summary: after one heated and spontaneous night together, aaron can’t seem to get his pretty subordinate (or her pussy) out of his head.
i did in fact read this bad boy like three times because it's that good. it perfectly mirrors hotch's mental state which i love love love. and i just love a smutty fic that has the best escalation of tension, like it builds until hotch physically cannot take it anymore and shewwwww so hot. exactly what i want in a hotch smut fic
savor - @kimstills summary: after being compromised to working a case the next day, aaron decides on savoring your current moment together for when he’s gone.
maddie is just always going to make the hottest aaron hotchner smut. the fact that this idea comes to aaron mid fuck is wild and i love it LOL.
morphine - @luveline summary: you get a good dose, confess your affections, and leave poor, oblivious hotch to fix things up neatly.
so if you follow my fic rec blog you know i literally reblog absolutely everything jade writes because it is just that fantastic. and this one is just soooo tender and so perfectly in character with hotch. if you are looking for truly amazing characterizations of hotch and reid !!!!! right here besties !!!!
filthy flat-pack thoughts - @alinathinkstoomuch summary: you had taken the day off to get yourself settled into your new apartment, not expecting hotch to show up at your door and offer a hand.
hey so firstly im just obsessed with the title, idk why it scratches something in my brain. and i feel like this fic should be illegal because it's not just smut-adjacent, it's foreplay with no touching, sexual frustration in furniture assembly and poor decisions lolol and again everyone who knows me knows i eat upppppp sexual tension and this fic was just that. there is literally no kisses no sex nothing and it's still one of the hottest fics i've ever read (there is also a smutty part two so go check that out as well)
can't lose when i'm with you - @aureatelys summary: You work as a beverage cart girl at your local country club and your dad ropes you in to make him look good during a business meeting with his new best friend.
dbf hotch is my weakness. the slow burn!!!!!! possessive hotch!!! daddy hotch!!!! this is the gold standard for dbf hotch truly. felt like i needed a cigarette after and i don't even smoke
red light kiss - @aureatelys summary: You haven't had sex in a week, you're stuck in the car with your new boyfriend/boss, and he's wearing that damn Kevlar vest. How could you resist?
hey yeah so i was positively feral after reading this actually. that damn kevlar vest is right. idk how you managed to make a blowjob in a government vehicle feel romantic but you did so bravo
tyrant - @solardrop summary: Hotch lets you take some anger out on him after he disrespects you on a case.
my favorite genre !!!!!!! making hotch shut up by sitting on his face! mhm mhm mhm. absolutely amazing use of free will was you writing this because i've read it at least 5 times minimum. i was forever changed after this
salt & pepper - @dudeitiskarev summary: dad bod and insecure Hotch. That’s it.
everything cat writes is just so crazy good but everyone knows i have such a weakness for dad bod hotch & this is the absolute perfect fic for it.
we can't be friends (wait for your love) - @cerisereids summary: down on your luck after a huge betrayal, you return to live at your father's house with your tail between your legs. you're humiliated, thoroughly convinced nothing good could come from returning home. then you meet aaron hotchner.
there are three parts to this masterpiece and i need everyone to read them all okay? because it's just so good. hotch flustered is my roman empire and grrrrrr this man was literally on his knees for the reader internally through out the whole thing & once again dbf!hotch!!!!! arghhh obsessed
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A lot of us actually are very aware and we fully support y’all doing all of this.
The reason you may not hear us talking about it is because it’s currently a hypothetical, while we’re having to deal with a ton of stuff that’s already happened.
In the five weeks since Trump has been in office, the White House has issued over 250 proclamations of some kind. Some are serious, others aren’t. It’s a lot to sift through, and overwhelming citizens is the point.
Our president has been issuing illegal orders — some of which literally go against our Constitution — and courts have been slow to respond.
Elon Musk and his band of non-qualified programmers have been irresponsibly sifting through government spending allegedly to find fraud and waste, but since they’re not auditors and don’t know anything about the government, they’ve mainly just been sowing chaos and accessing citizens’ sensitive data for reasons no one quite understands. Like, they literally have fired people from two departments that they had to then backtrack because it turns out, oopsie, we really do need people who understand how our nukes work on the payroll.
The White House is removing news outlets from their press room that choose to still use “Gulf of Mexico” in their international publications because they’ve decided that calling that body of water anything other than the “Gulf of America” is “lying”.
Our representatives are constantly pushing bills that are blatant loyalty signals, like the proposition that would allow Trump to serve a third term (but, coincidentally, not Obama).
Our President is ignoring the checks placed on his office and actively consolidating power under his position that belongs to other branches of government.
We are calling our representatives multiple times a week about a number of things, but our attention can only be pulled in so many directions.
We know Canadians are pissed. And many of us are pissed, too. But we’re busy trying to put out a thousand fires; we can’t also focus on the possibility that the arsonist is toying with the idea of setting another, especially when this arsonist had a tendency to pull out a box of matches with no intent to light them just to freak people out.
I am really, really sorry that our leaders keep threatening this. Please know that many of us stand with y’all in doing what you need to do. We just may not be expressing it right now because there are so many active issues that need our immediate attention.
Americans have no idea just how pissed off Canadians are about Trump.
Like, the tariff thing got us mad, but the 51st state thing? It's got us seething.
Liberals, progressives, even most of the Conservatives are all united on this.
We're sharing lists of Canadian-owned alternatives to American brands.
We're cancelling tourist trips to the US (one lady in a news story said she cancelled a trip to Florida for six and doesn't regret losing $1,300 due to the cancellation).
And if we have to go to the US, such as the couple who's selling their California home? We're taking Canadian flights instead.
Some travel agencies have seen as much as a 40% decrease in bookings of flights from Canada to the US, and it's estimated it'll affect at least $2.1 billion dollars of the travel industry alone (not counting the tourism side of things like Disney trips and hotel bookings).
I've also heard of people from the Commonwealth cancelling trips to the US to visit Canada instead, and the same from people in Europe.
#us politics#american politics#the united states of america#the united states#usa politics#canada#world politics#politics
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can we connect the 'Duke gave Jason Jazz's number' ask with the ask of 'Babs being Jazz and Danny's sister'?
(Sure :3)
Jason gets Jazz's number, Babs is their sister
When Duke walked into the Clocktower, he paused in place at seeing the people on her screen.
"Uh. Babs? What's that?"
Barbara turned and blinked tired, exhausted eyes. She had spent several sleepless nights just researching everything she could find on her siblings.
She was so, so proud of them, especially because Danny was going to school to be an astronaut and Jazz had already graduated, currently working within Arkham Asylum as a fair and hard working psychiatrist.
"This? It's nothing," she said absentmindedly. Like hell she was going to let any of the vigilantes she knew linger around or pester her darling siblings!
"... that's a picture of Jazz Fenton."
Barbara blinked. "You know her?"
"Yeah, sometimes Jazz volunteers at Gotham University to tutor people. She helps me with my anatomy classes," Duke explained.
A first witness account about her siblings from someone she knew!
"Tell me more," Barbara said eagerly.
Duke crossed his arms. "Tell me why you're looking into her."
Barbara sighed deeply. Then she said, "We're half siblings. I found out that she and my half-brother are in Gotham so I just wanted to learn more about them. I never met them before because my biological mom left when I was young."
Duke's eyebrows rose. Then he said, "Huh. Well, alright. Jazz is really nice. She explains things really well and she's also really patient. Everyone wants her to tutor them, but she's pretty busy so you have to schedule her in advance sometimes. I have her number, so I usually get tutored by her often. She also talks a lot? But she's super nice!"
Barbara nodded. She had hacked into several places and had already figured out most of her sibling's personality traits.
Jazz was an overachiever, eager to please, helpful, chatty, and a bit of a know it all. Danny, meanwhile, was a bit antisocial, but very kind, thoughtful, clever, and quick to help others.
Had she mentioned that she was very proud of them? She wanted desperately to meet them in person one day.
Duke then continued with a small laugh, "Y'know, if nothing else happens, I think you'll see your siblings again. Maybe even as in-laws! Jazz gave Jason her number the other day and he's been super eager to ask her out."
All time seemed to freeze. It was like a record scratch that turned off the music.
Barbara stared at him. "Excuse me?"
Even if Duke wasn't a meta that could predict the future, he could already feel the danger.
"Uh."
".... did you just say that Jason is trying to ask out my adorable little sister? Jason? Jason who once killed 8 people and put their decapitated heads in a duffel bag? Jason who lives in a trashy apartment because he's too busy committing crime to clean it? Jason who forgets to shower sometimes because he gets lazy?"
"............ yes?" Duke sounded afraid.
Barbara turned around to her computer again, bringing up more files. This time, they were named after Jason and Red Hood.
"Leave. You didn't see anything here."
Duke immediately bowed. "Yes, ma'am. Please spare me."
"You'll live only because you can tell me more about Jazz."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." Then he scrambled out of the Clocktower. RIP Jason. You will be missed.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#anon ask#jazz fenton#danny fenton#barbara gordon#duke thomas#jason todd#jason x jazz#anger management ship#hardcover ship#lmaooo ty for the ask
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what if you did a valentine’s day one shot where the reader gets asked on a date and yandere batfam are not happy about it?
I LOVE your works so far!! I hope that you’re sleeping well and eating!! have a great day/night!!!💜💜💜
-🐈⬛
Please, Please, Please
Oneshot
Y Batfam x GN Reader
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Featuring Platonic: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne
2.5K Words
Masterlist
You glance at the clock—15 minutes tell school is over. To pass the time you doodle on the corner of your notebook. Mr Miller's chemistry class was the worst. His monotone voice could lull anyone to sleep.
Your eyes drift to your desk mate, Parker. They seem just as bored as you, staring blankly out the window. Chemistry was the only class you had without Tim, which left you alone without anyone to talk to. Parker is nice, they’re the only friend you have that’s not already a part of Tim’s circle— If you could call them a friend.
They seemed to catch you staring because they started to scribble something in they’re notebook. A moment later they slid it over to you.
‘You understand any of this’ you smile and glance up at them. They had a cheeky grin. It was cute.
You shake your head and scribble something down. ‘Not a bit’.
They take the notebook back, Parker chuckles as they read your message, rolling their eyes.
“Guess we’re screwed than” they whisper.
You let out a small giggle “guess so”.
The bell rings before you and Parker can chat more. You’re quick to pack up your things, you wanna get home as soon as possible.
You sling your backpack over your shoulder but before you can head out the door Parker speaks up.
”Hey Y/n I got a question for you”
you pause before turning all your attention to them “yeah what’s up?”
”I was wondering…” their voice wavers and their cheeks go pink “well you know how Valentine’s Day is in a few days” Parker stumbles out, fingers tapping on the notebook. you nod.
”I was hoping… you and me could go out together, like on a date” their voice seemed to gain some confidence, and a boyish smile tugs on their lips.
You paused. You haven't really thought about going on a date with anyone, but the more you think about it why would you say no. Parker’s nice, funny, and they’re pretty cute.
You smile “Sure sounds like fun”.
Parker stares at you, wide eyed, like a deer in headlights. You take that as your cue to start heading out.
“Uhh. Yeah we’ll talk more tomorrow yeah?” They stammer.
“Yeah lets talk tomorrow” you call out from the other end of the classroom, before heading out the door.
Walking through the halls you check your phone. It’d been buzzing all class, it had to have been Dick.
<Dick>
Hey baby bird, how were your classes?
I’m in town today and we need to go out.
I Just asked Alfred I’m picking you up today!!
I’ll be waiting outside
Tim’s got a ride so don't worry about him
just you and me today!!
You scoff rolling your eyes. He easily could have sent these as one message, he just liked being annoying.
After putting your books away in your locker, you made your way to the parking lot. It’s packed with people and cars, but before you could spot him.
“Babybird I missed you so much!”
He yelled from across the parking lot, as he leaned against his car. You cringed as students stared at you and him. Could he get anymore embarrassing?
He ruffled your hair as you got into the passenger seat.
“C’mon let's go” he ushered you inside before, racing out of the parking lot.
“So I’m thinking we head to that new cafe you were talking about, and maybe stop by that old bookstore you like so much before we head home.” He keeps his eyes on the road.
“Yeah sounds like a plan” you smile.
He starts talking again, you tune him out. Your mind wanders back to when Parker asked you out. A giddy smile tugged at your lips. It made you feel all warm inside, this will be your first valentine’s on an actual date.
“You spacing out baby bird?” Dick raises a brow.
”sorry, sorry long day” you stammer. Dick makes a face, like he doesn’t quite believe you.
“sure.” His voice is a little irritated. Great, he's already starting to get pissy.
Your family’s always been weird about you. It's probably because you're not a vigilante but you can still take care of yourself.
It’s been getting worse as you get older, they just keep adding rules on top of rules. No going out past 7. No leaving anyone’s side at a gala. Always eat lunch with Tim’. Damian has way less rules than you do, and he doesn’t even follow them. It’s like they're scared to let you grow up.
Lately it’s been worse. Conversations stop once you enter a room. Touches lingering a little longer than normal. Eyes lingering for too long.
Whatever you’re used to their overprotectiveness.
It’s why you plan to keep your Valentine’s Day plans to yourself. You can just imagine everyone’s reactions. Dick will probably get super clingy. Tim will pull up their search history. Damian will go on a rant about how Parker doesn’t deserve you. Jason might corner them in some alley. and Cass will have that disappointed look on her face, the kind that makes you feel horrible.
Bruce might even ground you.
“Yeah” Dick’s grip tightened on the steering wheel tightens “no way” he mutters to himself.
Dicks muttering snaps you back to reality “what did you say?” You ask.
He forces a smile “Oh nothing baby bird, just excited”
You and Dick make it back after a few hours, and you’re exhausted. He took all across Gotham, trying to any and everything with you. It’s pretty obvious that he was trying to make up for lost time. He’s been in Blüdhaven more often.
by the time you step through the front door you want nothing more than to calloused into bed.
Instead you’re greeted by Damian. Judging from the scowl on his face he’s more pissed off than usual
Damian crossed his arms. ”You said you’d only take them out to eat.” He scoffed.
Dick slid off his shoes lazily , not even bothering to look up.”We were having too much fun and lost track of time.” Dick forced laughed.
Damian doesn’t move. ”You were gone for nearly 3 hours.” His voice is flat, clearly not buying the excuse.
“It’s my fault” you chime in, trying to diffuse the tension. Damian’s head turns toward you, his expression softens. “I asked Dick to drive me all over town” you smile, Dick ruffles your hair before heading down the hall. Damian doesn’t spare him a glance, his eyes locked in on you.
You start to make your way to your room, Damian follows— of course.
”you promised to be my model for my newest painting. When do you expect to make it up?” He asks. You hum “After dinner? You’ll still have a few hours until patrol”.
He pauses for a moment “I suppose that will work.” He says, the faintest smile forming on his lips.
You grip the handle of your bedroom door, praying you’ll get some alone time for once.
You don’t.
As you step inside Damian follows, his sharp gaze assessing the space. You sigh but don’t say anything.
Dinner should be ready in an hour, Damian’s not gonna leave anytime soon. might as well scroll through your phone in the meantime.
You and Damian head downstairs and as you make your way to your seat the conversation at the table does. everyone's eyes flicker towards you. You raise a brow but before you can say anything Alfred pipes up.
”I cooked your favourite tonight master y/n” he says, as if nothing is off.
You smile, shaking off the tension. “thank you Alfred”
As you go to take a bite you notice Jason’s gaze. it’s not his usual lazy smile. It’s sharper, more intense, watching. Did something happen? His anger is almost never directed towards you. Did Bruce say something?
Before your mind starts to wander your eyes glance towards Cass, she’s frowning like she’s almost disappointed in you but not quite.
“How was school today y/n?” Bruce’s voice cuts through the silence.
Everyone’s head turns to look at you. Waiting, as if they’re expecting something.
It’s fine you’re used to your family being weird like this.
You take a sip of your water ”it was fine” you force a casual tone. There is no way you can let them know about Parker.
Jason tilts his head “Nothing exciting happened?” He asked, studying your face.
You swallow “No not really.” You take another bite of your food, praying they don’t press the issue any further.
The family shares a look, silent but you noticed.
you pretend you didn’t.
Dick tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. But everyone seemed to be too lost in their thoughts to put in much effort.
The air remains heavy, the tension is palpable, and you feel everyone’s eyes on you.
It was the longest family dinner ever.
As the week drags on your family grows more intense.
It’s different this time.
They watch you closer, you never get any alone time. Even after spending more time with them than usual, they still expect something from you.
But what?
You don’t have time to think about that, todays the 14th, your first real valentine’s date. And you have everything planned.
At lunch you subtly drop a hint to Tim that you have this big chemistry project due tomorrow. Then after Lunch you’ll text Bruce and Alfred that you'll be home late, ‘working on it’. Bruce might check in with Tim, but Tim will confirm your story.
It’s practically fool proof.
Excitment courses through you all day. You have chemistry next, so you’ll be able to see Parker. You were just so excited— you deserved this.
At lunch Tim did not seem amused, in fact he looked quite pissed.
When you told him about your ‘Chemistry project’ he just forced a simile and nodded, he didn’t say anything for the rest of the period.
You didn’t pay him much mind though, you were to focused on your date.
As you walked through the halls to your chem class you kept glancing at your phone, waiting for Bruce’s response.
<y/n>
I have this super big chemistry project due tomorrow. My partner and I are gonna work on it together after school.
They’ll give me a ride back, don't worry.
<Bruce>
Ok, Tim will wait for you.
Shit.
what were you gonna do now? Tim was already onto you, there’s no way you’ll be able to go out now.
You’re so lost in thought that you don’t even notice Parker sitting down.
“Hey y/n you okay?”
You frown ”I don't think we’ll be able to go out today, my family is on my ass right now”
Why can’t you just have one nice thing, for once?
”oh” Parker pauses, they fiddle with their bag. Parker’s clearly upset about the situation as well. Then suddenly their face lights up.
Parker grins ”What if we go right now?” they exclaim. Quickly packing up their things.
You blink “What do you mean?”
“There’s only 10 minutes until class starts. We can leave right now and the teacher will never know” Excitement exudes from their voice.
Your heart pounds in your chest.
you’ve never even thought of skipping class before. You family would kill you.
But then again they’re the ones that never let you do anything. They control everything
So who cares what they do, you want to have fun.
A grin tugs on your lips. You scramble to pack up your stuff “sure lets do you”.
Parker gives that same childish smile from when they asked you out.
Despite the small voice telling you this is a bad idea, you felt excited, giddy.
you felt free.
You race to Parker’s car. A mix of adrenaline and excitement made you run faster than you ever have before.
Behind you, Parker struggled to up ”Jesus, Y/n— I’ve never seen you run so fast before” they gasped, hands on their knees trying to catch their breath.
You chuckle “sorry I got excited”
Parker shakes his head, same childish smile on their face as they unlock the car, before sitting on the driver’s side.
Before you get in you look back at the school. A shiver runs down your spine and a little voice whispers at you to turn back.
For a moment you pause. If you turn back now you wont be in any trouble.
You shake it off and hop into the seat.
+++
A cozy cafe would be the best choice. It’s close to the school you’ve been there a couple of times, and the food is really good.
As they pull into the parking lot you’re nervous. This is your first date, what is supposed to happen? What’s even the proper etiquette?
You shake your head and brush those thoughts away.
As you and Parker walk inside, you relax. The cafe is warm, with subtle pinks and blues on the wall. It smells like coffee and pastries. Parker picks a table near the back, and you settle down across from them.
Conversation between you two just seems to flow. You never realized how funny they are until today.
Any doubt you had washes away.
Once you’re finished giving the waitress your order, you take a sip of water enjoying Parker’s company. Then the bell to the door jingles.
You briefly glance up— just to see who’s there.
Bruce. Jason. Dick. Tim. Cass. Damian.
They stand in the doorway, eyes locked in on you. Their faces are unreadable.
your stomach drops.
You’re stuck. frozen like a deer in headlights, under the weight of their stare.
How did they know?
They make their way over to your table.
Bruce stops in front of you, towering over the table. “I’m disappointed y/n” his voice is monotone, but you can see the crinkle in his brows.
you just stare back at him. Too stunned to speak.
you try say something, anything. But the words die in your throat.
Dick grabs your arm, his grip is soft but firm. ushering you out of your seat.
Dick and Damian walk you out. You don’t resist, you couldn’t even if you wanted to.
Before you walk out the door you glance back.
Parker is surrounded.
Bruce says something too low for you to hear. Your chest sinks. You can only guess what they’re saying to them.
They look petrified.
It feels like an eternity before everyone else gets into the car.
“You’re grounded” Bruce states. A faint smile, barely there tugs at his lips.
You want to disappear forever.
Being grounded meant one thing.
You’ll never be alone again.
Tears start to slide down your checks, your voice wobbles ”I’m sorry— please don't ground me”
No one speaks.
No one listens.
You glance out the window, watching your freedom slip away.
I got my first request done!!!!!! As you can tell I need a lot of practice with writing short stories/oneshots. I suck at making things fast paced but I did my best. I hope you like it 🐈⬛ anon, tysm I had a lot of fun writing it. I also kept Parker GN so that way the reader can truly be any self insert. I’m working on CH. 03 of wicked Game rn so that’ll be what I post next. But if you have any ideas send a request I need more practice.
Also 215 followers! Thank you!!!
#platonic batfam#platonic yandere#yandere batfam#yandere dc#yandere x reader#batfam x reader#gn reader#yandere dc x reader#yandere tim drake#yandere#batfam#batfam x batsis#yandere jason todd#yandere dick grayson#yandere cassandra cain#yandere bruce wayne#platonic#yandere batboys
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MUSE
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Summary: Oscar is known for being bad at padel, which is why he tries other hobbies, like photography. Now, he clearly needs something to take photos of.
Author's note: Oscar trying to play paddel 🤏
I'm a huge fan of taking inspiration from songs, so you can listen to this. Don't forget to enjoy the reading and show some love. <3
Warnings: None ig.
————————————————————————
COWBOYSCHUMI | 2025 All rights reserved. Do not copy, translate, or upload on other platforms.
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Oscar had to be grateful for being that good of a driver. Man, he was really bad at other sports. Everyone pointed it out and made fun of him, some people even pitied him or found it cute. He even tried golfing, but that racket was his last straw. He was a bit frustrated, but Oscar wasn’t the type to get frustrated and give up. He just accepted the fact that he wasn’t gifted enough.
His Instagram was— for his luck because he wasn't a media guy— managed by a social media professional, who made him posts and even took charge of taking pictures. Yes, none of his dumps, captions, or stories were posted by his own hands, which was crazy. He wanted some sort of control over that, after all, he had a voice and a platform. Not taking advantage of that would be a shame, besides there was no fun and genuine part if he wasn't the one behind his Instagram. So he decided to take it more seriously, it made his brain hurt in the most untolerable ways but he started to post more, engage with his fans.
Instagram dumps are such a religious thing for some people, he wasn't in that group until now. Having a picture perfect Instagram would let people have more connection with the places, his interests— perceive him differently and not some boring and flat boy with not much to say.
Like any driver, he had a stylist, a PR team, and other fancy stuff—which he didn’t like much because the main focus was on him, physically. His content was different now; it was full of sunsets, yachts, cars, and food pictures. He had to thank his team for lending him a professional camera—it made the quality ten times better.
"It's a lost cause." Oscar spoke as he carelessly dried his hair with a towel.
You vividly remember the first time he stepped into one of your classes—the typical shy kid who barely spoke. Other drivers came along with him, doing most of the talking, but they weren’t consistent in attending. For them, padel was just a way to kill time. Oscar, on the other hand, wanted to know everything about it—from the size of the court to executing the perfect shot with his racket. A few weeks after his first class, he started booking lessons on his own, demanding more focus and dedication.
He came around twice a week, and seeing him so often, you quickly grew close. So it wasn’t surprising to find him frequently emerging from the showers at the padel club. You had even learned to tolerate his wannabe tennis grunts when he hit the ball. At this point, you had already seen the worst of him.
"You’re just being hard on yourself. Not everything has to be perfect."
Like in any common locker room, there was a bench where people placed their clothes after showering. You sat there as you two talked.
No matter how comfortable you were around Oscar, you respected him, so you made a point of not looking at his shirtless torso.
"Don't give me a pity speech. I’ve heard enough of that." He really did sound tired of hearing it. But it was true—no one should be too hard on themselves for not meeting their highest expectations. Striving for perfection in everything wasn’t normal. Oscar’s mindset was too rigid, and being optimistic felt like an impossible task for him.
"Webber told me you started… photography? He even sounded worried about what you might do with that." Chuckles and laughter echoed through the warm changing room.
"Yeah, I mean, it’s pretty great. Still got a lot to work on," he admitted sincerely, making that classic uncertain face he always did when he wasn’t sure about something. His facial expressions were always amusing. "I got bored of photographing the plants on my balcony at home. Took some photos of Lando, and Hattie doesn’t even want the lens near her."
Laughter filled the room again—it felt like a comedy show at this point. But when it faded, you exchanged a tense glance, as if communicating telepathically. A mischievous smirk lit up his face.
"No." Your answer was immediate and firm, anticipating what was coming.
"I haven’t even said anything!" He raised his hands in mock innocence, his guilty smile still in place. Oh, you knew him too well.
"I won’t. I’m not photogenic."
"Please, just one time."
Oscar always swore on one-time things. But when something felt good, you tended to repeat it. He knew exactly how to take advantage of your kindness, always asking for harmless favors—because, in the end, you never said no to him.
————————————————————————
And there you were, in his Monaco apartment, on a morning when rain was pouring outside. Oscar always pointed out the differences between his current lifestyle and the one he had in Australia, the daily longing for home. That small place in Europe had its charm, and he wouldn’t complain, but he missed the wide-open spaces, the warmer weather, and even his mom’s cooking. Now he lived on the highest floor of the busiest avenue, in a cramped apartment so small that he barely had space to walk around.
"I brought donuts and coffee," You announced while cleaning your boots on the entrance mat.
"Cool, thank you. Would you mind sitting by the window? The light is majestic." His attention was focused on his camera, probably adjusting some tricky settings.
"Already bossing around?" Unbelievable. The kid already thought he was a professional photographer, giving orders and having the worst attitude.
You had a big trench coat on, surprisingly still soaked after the unstoppable rain. And it kept coming—people still struggling with their umbrellas, cars almost floating down the street. That’s what you could see from how high his apartment was.
The brown-eyed boy placed his face behind his huge, intimidating camera, yet somehow, you didn’t feel intimidated by it—after all, he was the one taking the photos. But then, an unexpected expression of discontent crossed his face, confusing you. Your brows furrowed instantly, maybe you weren’t pretty enough to be photographed. You relaxed your body, stopped posing—that was it. At least you tried.
"Take it off." Oscar’s index finger pointed at my jacket, his face continued hidden behind the camera. The view was limited, but his expression remained unreadable—no emotion, all seriousness. Clueless.
"It's freezing cold outside, you're insane." Despite your protest, you did as he told you—just like always, hating yourself for it. Your body leaned against the nearly immense open window, the breeze sneaked through with ease, making your skin shiver. Your face card wasn’t your main attribute, maybe your toned padel body was. Still, you couldn’t quite grasp why he chose you, considering all the contacts and friends he had. Favors were an unbreakable thing between you two, but, of course, you never owed him a thing.
A few more adjustments, and his camera was down again, poker face still tattooed all over him. With slow, measured steps, he walked closer until he stood right in front of you. His mannerisms were always soft and gentle, like he had been written by a woman. Not exactly naive, but delicate enough to make you feel safe and comfortable in his presence.
Oscar set your coat aside, draping it over his vintage couch. His whole place had that aesthetic. You especially loved the Abu Dhabi carpet that stretched across the floor, its deep reddish tones were delightful. His eyes couldn’t help but dart down your slim silhouette. Your white sleeveless shirt, drenched from the rain, clung to your curves, turning entirely translucent against your skin.
Finally, your eyes connected, and you desperately searched for answers, whether in his gaze or through words. The driver was entirely focused on his task, calculating angles, observing the natural lighting, and analyzing your body. Over-analyzing your body.
You knew that look—the one men gave when they stared too long, leaving a disgusting feeling. But Oscar wasn’t like that. Yes, he was staring, but with such admiration and adoration that, for once, you didn’t mind. For the first time in a long time, you felt pretty. Feminine. Reaching that level of femininity wasn’t easy. Padel and sports had always shaped your image, conditioning you to appear tough, stereotypically masculine. But under his gaze, all of that melted away.
You broke eye contact as the staring became too overwhelming for your liking, exceeding your daily dose of attention. You couldn’t just escape him because he was there, and you were working, or something like that. Your breathing hitched, and you involuntarily let out a low gasp at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin. His touch was cold, just like your body. The only warmth came from the fire igniting in your cheeks. His fingers hooked around one of your white straps, which had fallen out of place.
God, you wished you could say a word, anything, but you were petrified.
“You look gorgeous.”
“You just say that hoping I’d say yes to another photoshoot. Your guinea pig.” The back-and-forth banter and sarcastic flirting didn’t end, but now you were playing silly enough to avoid any heartfelt compliment. You didn’t like those types of things because you never knew how to react, especially when they came from him. His contagious laughter filled the room and your world turned upside down.
Something always lingered between you two, and it was the expectedly obvious, taking into account the amount of time you spent together—padel mornings or sometimes afternoons, dinner nights if class ended late, and when he actually managed to wake up to his multiple alarms, cycling together. But it was casual because you never knew what could cross a man's mind; spending a whole day together could mean nothing to them, maybe he even saw you in a sisterly way. So you tried to chill, not giving it much importance—because, again, a compliment could mean nothing.
His free hand found its way to your nape, resting his palm there, barely cradling it. You had no choice but to regain eye contact; he had you cornered with his gaze—physically, too. Any cold once brought by the winter weather had vanished. Your skin was hot, almost burning. Oscar's gaze didn’t reflect frenzy or desire; he looked lost, even stunned.
“Let me kiss you, please.” He murmured hopelessly, his words caressing and sweetening your ears in the most shivering way.
“Oscar, professionally is not the best to-” It was just a matter of seconds before he silenced you in the most cliché way possible. His kisses mirrored his personality—timid and shy, as if he were afraid to go too far. Yet, at the same time, they were sweet and innocent, like a first kiss, completely inexperienced.
Something that you clearly weren't used to.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even more close, letting each other feel how you teetered, how you edged by just a kiss. Your consent gave him more confidence, turning the encounter into something deeper, sloppier. His lips parted against yours with more urgency, the hesitation melting away as the two of you let each other get lost in the moment. His breath was uneven, intoxicatingly mixing with yours. The kiss grew needier, desperate, and hungry. The sound of your teeth crashing messily together was secondary as his tongue brushed against your lips, savoring, tasting, before he dared to explore further. The slick warmth, the breathy sounds between kisses, the way his body pressed against yours—it was thrilling in the best way.
“I never really liked padel that much, nor was I good at it. There was no chance of improving. But you know why I kept coming back.” Oscar's smile emerged in the middle of the kiss, his tone playful, hinting that he knew he’d been doing something wrong just for the fun of it. Paying for extra classes just to see your face more than once a week? Genius move.
“Oh, I'm so gonna kill you.” You warned him, still in disbelief, that he’d been such a fool, especially since you would’ve said yes to any date prior if he’d only had the courage. There was no need for this extreme and unnecessary padel. But, still, seeing him struggle was part of your routine—and you enjoyed it. Not wanting to hear any lame excuses, you pulled him in, deciding to stay glued to his lips for a very long time
#f1#f1 fandom#f1 drivers#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 fic#cowboyschumi#cowboyschumi writes#formula one fic#op#op81 x reader#op81#op81 fic#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri fluff
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You may notice that you are about to hear a lot less about Gaza. It is already starting to some degree. You will hear much less about it on the news, and see much less about it on your various social medias. You might be inclined to assume that this means the situation has in some way improved. That is not the case at all.
First it will be because trump will be responsible for so many atrocities in so many places that there simply will not be bandwidth for all of them, and Gaza will be treated as old (and therefore boring) news. That treatment of Gaza is abhorrent, but it will happen. Trump has promised that he will wipe Gaza off the map and he will try. He will be doing so many cruel things to so many people that the U.S. simply will not have access to stories about Gaza.
The other reason you will no longer hear about Gaza on your social media is because it is no longer useful as a way to discourage voting democrat. Trump has vocally promised horrors in Gaza, and he usually tries to keep his promises when they are cruel. Harris was definitely positioning herself to play a (far too mild) version of bad cop with Netanyahu. There was an obvious lesser and greater evil in the election and our empathies for the horrors of Gaza were used to manipulate U.S. citizens into allowing the greater evil to take power. Now that your empathies are no longer useful there's no longer any need for some people to talk about Gaza at all.
Please remember this 6 months from now when you realize you haven't heard about Gaza in months. I guarantee it won't be for good reasons.
I STILL sometimes see people argue that Trump's victory is the fault of Democrats for not being good enough at messaging, and not making it clear enough to Americans all the good Biden was doing.
I knew. Lots of people I know knew. I don't have a secret line to the white house. I'm around average intelligence. I'm not excessively seeking out news, constantly getting news updates. And yet I knew. And so did many others. The information was there for you to get at any time. It found its way to me without my actively seeking it out. Kamala Harris cannot personally come to your house and slap the tiktok out of your hands. You have to take a crumb of responsibility here.
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+ ๋࣭ ✴︎ ARISTOTLE | Ollie Bearman x smart-student!reader
Summary: A math genius and a rising racer meet by chance, constantly challenging each other. What begins as playful debates slowly grows into something more, making them question where they truly belong.
Warning: Um kinda out-of-character ollie ig
Notes: I literally wrote this on class because I’m so bored, so this might be kinda messy but I’ll fix it later (if I remember it tho-) And this is kinda long so i hope u enjoy it <3
Y/N had always lived in a world of numbers, equations, and the thrill of solving problems that most people found impossible. At sixteen, she was already a prodigy in the math olympiad scene, effortlessly tackling problems that left even seasoned mathematicians impressed.
But then, she met Ollie Bearman.
She had seen his name before—a rising star in Ferrari’s junior program. Nineteen years old, fast, confident, and already making waves in Formula 2, with whispers of an impending F1 seat growing louder. He was a name that mattered in motorsport, but to Y/N, he had been nothing more than just a name.
She found herself standing in the Ferrari garage, an unwilling spectator as cars roared through the narrow streets of Monte Carlo. Unlike the rest of the team, she wasn’t watching the cars themselves but the screens, the numbers flashing in real time, painting a picture of the race beyond what the eye could see.
That was when he noticed her.
Ollie pulled off his helmet, shaking out his damp curls, still breathless from the session. He had expected to be met with the usual engineers, mechanics, or even an occasional sponsor’s representative. Instead, his gaze landed on her—a girl who looked out of place, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the screen rather than the track.
“You don’t look like a racing fan.” he remarked, walking over.
“Because I’m not.” she replied without looking up. “But I like the real-time data. And you brake later than most in Turn 4. It’s an unnecessary risk.”
Ollie blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then, to her irritation, he grinned.
“Risk is part of racing.”
“And probability says it’ll cost you a race if you keep doing it.”
His grin widened. “Let me guess, an engineer?”
“Unemployed.” she corrected.
He tilted his head, intrigued. “So, what’s your verdict? Am I good or just lucky?”
She hesitated. Math was clean and predictable. Racing was not. It was a tangled mess of speed, instinct, and physics-defying precision. And yet, even she had to admit that Ollie’s driving wasn’t reckless—it was calculated, refined in a way that most people wouldn’t notice. “You calculate your risks well. It’s not all instinct, even if you pretend it is.”
Ollie smirked. “So, you have been watching.”
“Only because my dad makes me.”
At that, Ollie raised an eyebrow. He had a feeling she wasn’t just any guest in the Ferrari garage. “Wait, who’s your dad?”
Before she could answer, a deep voice cut in. “Y/N, I see you’ve met Ollie.” Ollie turned and felt his stomach drop slightly. Standing behind her was none other than the CEO of Ferrari himself.
Oh. His easygoing confidence flickered for just a second. “Ah. That explains a lot.”
To most people, Y/N’s father was one of the most powerful figures in Formula 1. To her, he was simply the reason she had spent more weekends at racetracks than she cared to count. She gave Ollie a knowing look. “Told you I don’t have a choice.”
From that moment on, Ollie seemed to make it his mission to get under her skin. At every race she attended, he sought her out, tossing math problems at her just to see if she’d take the bait (she always did). In return, she picked apart his driving with ruthless precision, pointing out every inefficiency like a strategist rather than a fan.
—
One evening, after hours of solving functional equations for preparation for the International Mathematical Olympiad, Y/N sat at the dinner table with her family. Her two older siblings, Kai and Isa, had been listening to their dad talk about Ferrari’s recent races.
“So, Dad.” Isa started, smirking. “Are we going to talk about how your daughter is lowkey running strategy for Ferrari?”
“I am not running strategy.” Y/N said immediately, stabbing her fork into her food.
“But you could.” Kai pointed out. “Dad literally offered you a spot.”
“Not a real spot.” she muttered.
Their father sighed. “She’s brilliant with numbers, but she refuses to apply them where they matter most.”
“They matter in math.” Y/N shot back.
Kai leaned back. “Okay, but let’s be real. Why are you really turning it down? Is it the pressure? Or…” He smirked. “Would working in F1 mean seeing a certain driver more often?”
Isa grinned. “Ohhh, this just got soooo interesting.”
Y/N groaned. “You guys are ridiculous.”
Her mother, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. “You should do what makes you happy. Whether that’s math or racing—just make sure it’s your choice. Not something you’re avoiding.” Y/N hesitated.
She had been avoiding it, hadn’t she?
But it wasn’t because of Ollie.
Or at least, that’s what she told herself.
—
Her presence in the paddock didn’t go unnoticed. Carlos was the first to bring it up. “You and Bearman seem close.” he mused after bumping into her in the hospitality area.
Lewis, who had been listening in, smirked. “More than close. Kid looked like he was waiting for her approval after his last win.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “I’ve seen him stare at telemetry less intensely than he looks at you.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re all being ridiculous.”
“Are we?” Charles grinned. “Because Ollie is watching you right now.”
She turned, and sure enough, across the paddock, Ollie was mid-conversation with an engineer but still stealing glances at her. The moment their eyes met, he smirked and gave her a lazy salute before turning back to his conversation.
Kimi Antonelli, the youngest among them, just chuckled. “You should probably just put him out of his misery.”
Y/N ignored them.
Mostly.
“So, when’s this big math thing?” Ollie asked, catching up with her after a long day in the paddock.
“July.” she answered.
“Alright. If you win a medal, I’ll let you call strategy for my next race.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And if I don’t?”
“Then I take you on a hot lap, and you have to admit that racing is cooler than doing equations.”
It was a ridiculous bet.
But Ollie looked so smug, so certain he’d win, that she couldn’t help herself. “Fine.” she agreed, shaking his hand. And for the first time in her life, she wasn’t sure which outcome she wanted more.
—
Despite their deal, Y/N and Ollie had fallen into a routine. She was deep in training for the olympiad, and he was busy racing across Europe, but somehow, they still found time for each other.
Their conversations started out competitive, Ollie sending her video clips of his best overtakes, asking for her "mathematical analysis," just to get a reaction.
Ollie: be honest, did I calculate my braking perfectly or what?
Y/N: you cut it too close in Turn 7
Y/N: if you keep doing that, probability says you’ll get penalized eventually
Ollie: probability also says I’ll pull it off every time.
Y/N: that’s not how probability works??
Ollie: that’s how I work :)
At some point, the conversations became… more. Late-night texts about nothing and everything. Ollie asking about her training, even though he barely understood half of what she was saying. Y/N watching his races, even when she pretended she didn’t care.
One evening, she was deep into a geometry proof when her phone buzzed.
Ollie: do you ever take breaks, or do you just absorb math through osmosis?
Y/N: breaks are inefficient.
Ollie: you know what else is inefficient? overworking your brain until it melts.
She sighed, rubbing her temples.
Y/N: and what do you suggest i do instead?
Ollie: something fun
Y/N: define ‘fun’
Ollie: call me XD
She hesitated. Their texts were one thing, but a call? It was different. But before she could overthink it, she hit the button. Ollie picked up instantly. “Wow. Didn’t think you’d actually do it.”
“You said fun. I’m testing your definition.”
His chuckle sent a strange warmth through her. “Alright, genius. Let’s see if I can impress you with something other than lap times.”
They talked for hours. About racing, about numbers, about everything in between. It was easy. Natural. And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t mind it.
—
The weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix arrived, and Y/N found herself back in the Ferrari garage, standing in the same spot where she had first met Ollie. She wasn’t a racing fan. She kept telling herself that. But her eyes still sought out the timing screens, scanning for his name.
He was starting P3. A solid position. But Monaco was unforgiving. Overtaking here was a different kind of battle—one that required both patience and risk. As the race began, she gripped her headset tighter than she intended.
Lap after lap, Ollie stayed behind the two leaders, waiting. Her father, standing beside her, noticed. “He’s playing the long game.”
Y/N nodded, focused. “Like he should.” With ten laps to go, the car ahead made a mistake. A lock-up.
Y/N held her breath.
Ollie pounced.
A daring move down the inside of Turn 10. Inches from disaster. She exhaled as he made it stick. Now, it was just him and the leader.
“Come on, Bearman.” she whispered.
With five laps left, she saw it before it even happened. The leader’s tires were gone. Ollie had managed his perfectly.
One chance. A gap opened. He took it.
The Ferrari garage erupted as Ollie crossed the finish line first. Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. But the moment that hit her the hardest?
His first radio message.
“This win goes to my strategist.”
Her heart skipped. He found her in the celebrations, helmet off, eyes searching—until they locked onto hers. And suddenly, it wasn’t just about the race.
For the Bearman, racing had always been everything. It was all he had ever wanted. But lately, something had changed. It started with little things—how he’d instinctively look for Y/N in the paddock, how her absence at a race bothered him more than he’d admit, how their late-night texts had become something he needed rather than just enjoyed.
Then came the bigger realization. The moment he won, he didn’t think about the trophy, the team, or the celebrations.
He wondered what she would say. Would she analyze his lap times? Admit he was right about Turn 4? And that’s when it hit him.
He was completely, absolutely in love with her
—
Ollie had barely made it through his post-race interviews before the questions shifted. “So Ollie, your radio message—who’s ‘your strategist’?”
Ollie chuckled, shaking his head. “Just someone who keeps me in check.”
“More important than your race engineer?”
“She’d say yes.”
The reporters paused “She? So, it’s a girl?”
Ollie sighed, but the grin never left his face. "Next question." The speculation exploded. Social media flooded with theories, blurry pictures of him talking to Y/N in the paddock, clips of their earlier interactions.
Her dad wasn’t surprised. "You should have known he wouldn’t keep it quiet."
“I did know.” she muttered, scrolling through an article titled ‘Ollie Bearman’s Secret Strategist: The Genius Behind the Headset?’
Isa sent her a text on their groupchat.
Isa: girl u are literally trending rn
Kai: do we get paddock passes🥺🥺
Y/N: lol no
She was still debating how to handle it when her phone buzzed again.
Ollie: pls tell me ur not mad
Y/N: mad? no, slightly horrified? yas
Ollie: at least they didn’t find our bet lol
Y/N: give em some time
She could practically hear his laughter through the screen.
—
Y/N had never been one to get attached easily. But Ollie? He had a way of making it impossible to keep her distance.
It started with the small things. The way he always found her in the Ferrari hospitality unit, plopping down across from her with that infuriatingly easygoing grin. The way he’d text her after every race, win or lose, as if her opinion mattered more than anyone else’s. And the way he made her care about racing.
“You seem happier lately.” Charles Leclerc teased one evening in the Ferrari motorhome.
Y/N barely glanced up from her laptop. “And you’re getting slower in Sector 2.”
Carlos Sainz, sitting beside Charles, burst out laughing. “She got you there, mate.” Charles rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, his gaze flicked toward Ollie, who was casually leaning against the doorway, watching Y/N with that same look he always had when she wasn’t paying attention.
Carlos smirked. “So, when are you two admitting it?”
Y/N frowned. “Admitting what?”
“That you like each other,” Max Verstappen cut in from the other side of the room, completely unbothered as he scrolled through his phone. “It’s obvious.”
Y/N scoffed. “We’re friends.”
“Sure.” Max drawled. “And I drive slow.” Lewis Hamilton, who had been silently sipping his tea, finally looked up. “It’s fine if you’re in denial. Just don’t let it distract you. Relationships in F1 are complicated.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Good thing we’re not in one, then.”
Ollie, who had been suspiciously quiet this whole time, finally spoke. “Yet.” The room fell silent.
Y/N’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
Ollie grinned. “I said ‘yet.’”
Carlos let out a low whistle. “Bold move, boy.”
Y/N, meanwhile, felt her face heat up. She was used to Ollie’s teasing, but this? This felt different. “You’re insufferable.” she muttered, focusing back on her laptop.
“Maybe,” Ollie said easily. “But you’re still stuck with me.”
And the worst part? He was right. But now, there was something unspoken between them, something neither of them dared to acknowledge.
Until one night in Monza.
It was late, the paddock mostly empty, the distant hum of the circuit lights buzzing overhead. Y/N had stayed behind to finish some work, and Ollie, as usual, had found her.
“You know,” he said, sitting across from her at one of the hospitality tables, “for someone who doesn’t like F1, you spend an awful lot of time in the paddock.”
She shrugged. “Force of habit.”
“Right.” Ollie leaned forward. “Or maybe you just like being around me.”
She snorted. “Delusional.”
He grinned. “I prefer optimistic.” There was a pause. A rare moment of quiet between them. Then Ollie, unusually serious, asked, “Do you ever think about what happens after this?”
“After what?”
“This. Us. Me in F1, you off solving the world’s hardest equations or whatever it is you’ll end up doing.”
Y/N hesitated. Because, for the first time, she realized she didn’t have an answer. Numbers were predictable. Racing was not. And neither was Ollie Bearman. He stepped beside her, hands in his pockets. “So. What did you think?” He said breaking the silence.
“Of the race?” she asked, though they both knew that wasn’t what he meant.
“Of everything.”
The room was quiet for a moment, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning. It was a ridiculous situation—two people who were too proud, too stubborn, yet somehow always orbiting each other.
Ollie exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You know what? No, I’m saying it. You’re—” He paused, visibly struggling with the words. “You’re annoying.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You’re annoying. You always have to be right, you never let me win an argument, and you act like you don’t care when you clearly do.”
She blinked. “First of all, I am always right. Second, you’re the one who keeps picking fights with me. And third—” She faltered for just a second. “I don’t care.”
Ollie let out a dry laugh. “Yeah? Then why do you always wait for my race results before you go to sleep?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Wha- how do you even know that?”
“Because Charles told me. Apparently, you asked about my sprint race before anything else last weekend.”
Damn it, Charles.
Y/N felt her face heat up, but she refused to back down. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Right. Just like how I don’t notice when you’re in the garage, even though I somehow always drive better when you’re watching?”
She swallowed. “Coincidence.”
He huffed, looking almost amused. “You really don’t make this easy.”
“You don’t either.” she muttered. A beat passed. Then another.
And then, with a voice quieter than before, Ollie said, “You know what? I like y- No. I love you.” She stiffened. The words felt so foreign coming from him—blunt, direct, but still carrying that same defiance he always had.
She hesitated for a second too long, so he quickly added, “Not that it matters. I mean, if you’re going to pretend you don’t feel the same way, then—”
“I never said that,” she interrupted.
He froze.
She exhaled slowly. “You’re annoying too. Always teasing, always acting like you don’t care when you obviously do. And it’s exhausting.”
Ollie tilted his head slightly, eyes searching hers. “So, what are you saying?”
She looked away, glaring at the Ferrari logo on the wall as if it would save her. “I’ll give you my answer,” she said quietly, "after my olympiad.”
Ollie blinked. “You’re making me wait?”
“You make me wait every race weekend to see if you actually listen to my advice.”
He groaned, running a hand through his curls. “You are impossible.”
She shot him a glare. “Take it or leave it, Bearman.”
He let out a short laugh. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll take it.” His answering grin was slow, filled with something dangerous—because Ollie Bearman never backed down from a challenge.
—
The International Mathematics Olympiad arrived faster than she expected. Almost 6 weeks of nothing but numbers, equations, and the thrill of proving the impossible. When the final results were announced, she stood on the podium, a gold medal around her neck, her country’s flag draped behind her.
She had done it.
And the first person she texted?
Y/N: i placed first!
Ollie: so that means I get a strategist, right?
Y/N: guess i owe you an answer
Ollie: finally
When she returned home, he was already waiting. She met him at the Ferrari garage—after hours, when most people had already left, and the place was quiet except for the hum of machinery and the faint smell of oil and rubber. Ollie was leaning against the side of his car, arms crossed, but the moment he saw her walk in, his expression softened.
“So,” he said, watching her carefully. “Did solving equations help you figure things out?”
“Yeah,” she said simply. Ollie raised an eyebrow. “And?”
She tilted her head slightly, eyes glinting with something unreadable.
“I like you.” It was so effortless, so blunt, that it completely threw him off. He had expected a debate, some kind of teasing remark, maybe even a dramatic build-up. Not this.
“You—” He blinked, mouth parting slightly. “You really waited this long just to say that?”
She shrugged. “Had to be sure.”
Ollie let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “God, you’re impossible.”
And then—he kissed her.
It wasn’t careful or calculated. It was instinct, reckless and real, like something that had been waiting to happen for too long. She froze for a second, then kissed him back, just as certain.
The sound of a camera shutter snapped them out of it.
Ollie pulled back just enough to glance toward the entrance—where, through the gap in the garage doors, a group of photographers had their lenses pointed directly at them.
His jaw clenched. “You have got to be kidding me.”
She blinked up at him, a little breathless, then exhaled sharply. “Guess we’re making headlines tomorrow.”
Ollie groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Unbelievable.”
—
You’re right, the headlines the next morning were everywhere.
“Ferrari’s Rising Star Ollie Bearman and Mystery Girl—More Than Just Friends?”
“Caught in 4K: Young F1 Driver’s Late-Night Garage Romance!”
At first, people were just trying to figure out who the mystery girl was. But then, someone zoomed in on the photo and noticed about who that girl is.
“WAIT. ISN’T THIS THE GIRL WHO JUST PLACED FIRST AT THE IMO??”
“YOU’RE TELLING ME FERRARI’S FUTURE STAR JUST BAGGED A MATHEMATICAL GENIUS???”
“Ollie Bearman. Sir. How did you pull THAT?”
Ollie nearly threw his phone across the room when he saw the last comment. “You’re kidding me.” he muttered, scrolling through the article. The picture was clear, him and Y/N in the Ferrari garage, mid-kiss. There was no way out of it.
His phone buzzed.
Y/N: wow we’re famous
Ollie: you think this is funny?
Y/N: a little
Ollie: i’m going to eat whoever took that photo.
Y/N: too late, my mom already sent it to all my relatives
Ollie groaned. His face was burning. Great. A few hours later, Y/N showed up at his place, looking way too calm about the whole thing.
“You look way too amused.” Ollie said, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.
She shrugged. “I think it’s funny. Besides, it’s not like we were planning to keep it secret forever.”
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, but I was hoping for a little control over how people found out.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You? Control? Ollie, you kissed me first.”
His face turned red instantly. “That’s—shut up.” She smirked, stepping inside and flopping onto his couch like she owned the place. “And now the whole world knows. Congrats, loverboy.”
He groaned. “You’re the worst.”
“You like me, though.”
Ollie sighed, defeated, before sitting beside her. He nudged her shoulder lightly. “Unfortunately.”
She grinned. “Lucky me.”
Despite the chaos, despite the headlines and the teasing texts from the other drivers.
Lewis: Look at our little Ollie, all grown up!
Charles: I expect wedding invites.
Kimi: can you two not do this in the Ferrari garage next time?
He groaned dramatically, but when she laced her fingers through his, he couldn’t help but smile. Maybe the whole world knowing wasn’t so bad. Maybe, for once, he didn’t mind being the center of attention.
Because if there was one thing that mattered more than racing, more than headlines, more than anything—It was her.
© MICHAVS 2025, please do not translate or repost my fics without my permission.
#ollie bearman fluff#ollie bearman x reader#ollie x reader#ollie bearman#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fluff
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so let's talk about david jenkins saying the idea was that the crew would dump ed overboard in the mutiny before the writers changed their minds and had him kept in the hold.
he says they changed this for pacing reasons, so that the reunion could happen in 2x03 instead of being delayed longer, and i cannot argue with that, waiting any longer sounds excruciating. so i'm not complaining about this as, like, villainous interference from the WBD suits or anything, although it might be a decision forced by cutting the number of episodes. probably still the right call under the circumstances. BUT i'm interested in it because this explains a couple things that are weird about the plot structure of the whole season as it stands.
so first of all the crew throwing the body overboard just immediately makes a lot more sense because it doesn't actually require them to have failed to notice he wasn't dead. it would be pretty tough to carry the body into the hold and lay him out and cover his face with a lil washcloth and everything and not notice at any point during this that he's still breathing or that he has a pulse. and if they did notice you'd think they'd either finish the job quickly or try to treat him if they'd had a change of heart, not leave him to die slow. however the idea that they would beat him till he stopped moving then immediately chuck the body overboard, that totally makes sense, you wouldn't stop to check if he was already dead or not because one way or another he will be pretty shortly after you dump him in the ocean.
second the line from stede to izzy about "you were the one who kept his body onboard" always bugged me because it feels like it's meant to establish something about izzy but it's really unclear WHAT it tells us about him, in a way that doesn't seem like intentional ambiguity: i've seen people interpret it as a sign of his devotion and i've seen others assume it was a practical decision that the crew should keep ed's body around to claim the bounty on blackbeard. (and i've seen both interpretations from people both in and out of the canyon, so it's not even a normal izcourse divide.) i actually wondered at one point if the purpose was to foreshadow where izzy's arc is going to end by establishing that he thinks it's more respectful to bury a pirate on land than at sea, although if that was the idea it sure didn't work on the people who'd care most.
however this new info from djenks explains it pretty neatly, which is that the reason for the line isn't to establish character stuff about izzy at all it's just there to awkwardly patch a plothole. it's that someone in the writers' room was like "but it doesn't make any sense, why WOULDN'T they dump his body overboard once they'd killed him" and somebody else was like "idk uh maybe we can put in a line about how izzy stopped them or something."
now more interestingly! this also would change something bigger about 2x04. because i'm guessing the idea here would be that ed would have actually for real washed up on an island that looks just like the one in the gravy basket and just never actually gotten up off the beach, and stede would find him there, mermaid scene, and ed would wake up mad and storm off into the woods with where he meets mary read with stede already trying to follow him and the rest of the episode proceeds as normal from there. (and probably buttons would be just, like, hanging around following stede, or maybe he was already acting as a psychopomp and led stede to ed's body, idk, lots of possible ways to play that.)
this means you completely lose the beat of the crew voting ed off the ship. you wouldn't lose the idea of the crew being pissed at him; you could still have the kitty collar onesie probation stuff after he got back. but this is a BIG change.
first of all it solves a big obvious problem LOTS of people pointed out immediately when the episode aired which is that it makes no sense that stede would just stay on the ship after letting ed be exiled. reuniting with ed has been his driving goal for months and it's not even like ed has definitively told him to fuck off, he's just stomping off angry and incoherent and not even clearly in his right mind. but they couldn't let stede actually follow ed on his own initiative immediately, because it would undermine the later fisherman breakup if stede has already established that he's willing to leave his pirate career behind if that's what it takes to be with ed. so you end up with this awkward beat where he's just kind of passively standing there until buttons tells him what to do.
i think there's something even more important it does though! one criticism a LOT of people had about s2 was feeling like the crew all hated ed now and there was no clear sign they'd forgiven him by the end, and also some people had the impression that stede had just overriden the crew's decision (even though he does say he's going to ask their permission; it DOES feel weird we don't see that). now i've said before that i think there was probably going to be a reconciliation between ed & lucius, and by extension the crew as a whole, in the lupete wedding verision of 2x06, and i still think that. but regardless of whether i'm right or wrong about that. even without a reconciliation, this would seem like WAY less of a problem if the crew hadn't voted ed of the ship.
as it is, we have THREE scenes devoted to the idea that the crew as a whole (not just lucius & izzy, who both have more complicated individual relationships with ed) are uncomfortable with ed's presence on the ship - there's the initial one where stede's holding the meat on his face where they're all yelling at him, and then there's the actual walk of shame where they've just voted him off, and THEN there's the youtube apology scene where they're heckling him and stuff. and having three separate scenes like that makes it feel like the narrative is really hammering in this idea of a big dramatic rupture in the whole crew's relationship with ed. but only the last of those scenes was originally supposed to be there! the first two were just thrown into the plot to justify why ed ends up wandering around an island to run into anne & mary! if you only had the youtube apology scene, it would be much more clear that most of the crew weren't really all that mad - as it is, roach and jim explicitly saying they aren't mad feels like it's overshadowed by the weight of the earlier scenes.
(also a minor issue, but i've mentioned before that surprisingly often people think the vote was unanimous. this doesn't actually make sense in terms of the episode, because we know it was deadlocked and izzy cast the tiebreaker. but it is sort of weird, if the idea is that the crew is split on this, that we never get any sign of who voted which way; there's nobody but stede who is clearly presented as specifically not wanting ed to be exiled. which DOES end up making it feel like it's the crew as a unanimous block that wants him off the ship. but that makes sense if the whole concept of the crew wanting him exiled was sort of hastily written to patch a plot hole instead of being a fully developed idea.)
anyway. like i said i can't really complain about this as a pacing decision. but it is really interesting to me how many knock-on problems with the whole arc of the season were created by the change, and how much cleaner the original idea sounds like it would have been.
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Second Best- Jungkook (part 10)
Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?
Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;
Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader
Warning: strong language
Wordcount: 8.5k
Author's note: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Give me your thoughts. I love you all !
P.S : I'm sorry for any mistakes. English is not my first language!
Y/n wasn't always insecure about herself. Early in life she was a lively, extroverted and free spirit person, but life is unfair and unpredictable. Having the trauma of seeing her father abandon her and her mother for another woman, saying she was the reason why he stopped loving and caring for her mom, left something inside her that it was never possible to mend no matter how hard she tried, making her more focused on studies and goals than boys and dating while growing up. For her, love was an illusion and she wouldn’t make the same mistake as her mother.
Thinking about it now as she heads inside the apartment she shares with Lisa, she never gave anyone an opportunity, but as soon as she saw Jungkook she was drawn to him immediately without any explanation for it. Independence was her thing and she never thought she’d be capable of feeling the way she feels about him right now. Even if that meant that her friendship with Sewoon had to end.
Looking back she knows Sewoon was never a good friend to her and she deserves better. Despite knowing their personalities were completely different from each other, Y/n accepted her anyway. After all, Sewoon had been her first friend, the first person to defend her when necessary and for that she was truly thankful for her. She also knew a little about her past and even though their priorities were different, they understood each other like that.
Sewoon wanted to live life, have fun, go out, drink. Everything a teenager is supposed to do. She lost her virginity at 16 to a boy three years older than her who she met at a party. At the time Y/n asked her how was she able to do something so intimate with someone she had only known for a short time. Her best friend replied no one cared about that anymore. Truth to be told, after that she changed. A lot. Maybe that was when they started to drift apart a little bit. Y/n didn't like this change, not when she tried to do the same to her. Sewoon would share her experience regarding sex, how she did it, what she did and how good it felt. She was sexually active and made sure everyone knew about it, bothering Y/n. It was a subject that she didn't feel confident or comfortable talking about, however Sewoon pressured her to go the same path as her and that pissed Y/n off, but she would let it slide.
Maybe that was the main problem, letting it slide too muc. She never thought they would get to the point they are at today and that's sad. Now, Y/n was envious of all the experience she had acquired over the years, because with Jungkook it worked. He was so enthralled by Sewoon's beauty and comfort around guys, not to mention the way she won over boys, the subtle way of touching and talking to them when she tried to conquer them. Honestly, she admired the way she could make people who weren't interested in her focueds on her so quickly. Y/n knew she would never reach her feet in that way.
Everything that happened today with Jungkook was just one more thing to confuse her. What if she was imagining things? As far as she knows he could flirt like this with everyone else. What if he thought she was easy just because she had feelings for him and he was in need of more than she could give him? She has known him long enough to know he wasn’t part like this but still... One never really knows someone, right? Sewoon is living proof of this.
Walking in her room, Y/n went to change clothes and do her skin care, she had cried so much during the day that her eyes were swollen. She washed her face with cold water and dried it and putting a facial mask on. It was a very cold night but the moonlight helped to alleviate the darkness outside and she took advantage of being alone to go to the living room with her favourite book in hand, sitting in a chair next to the fireplace. The Y/n from a few days ago would be unable to tell Jungkook how she felt, yet both yesterday and today she had already confessed twice and had even confronted Sewoon. She never thought she would be able to raise her voice the way she did.
She somehow feels that Jungkook came into her life to break down all these walls around her heart with his sweet gaze and magnetic smile. She fell in love with him, but didn't have the courage to admit it (to him or herself), which ended up in her best friend dating him and yet she continued to desire him. Damn, she was so happy to know they had broken up, so she could rekindle her friendship with him and although knowing this was not something a good friend would do, at that moment Y/n doesn’t regret staying close to Jungkook, otherwise the moment they shared today wouldn't have happened at all. For that she also has Lisa to thank. God, she was very upset with her, but she ended up opening a path she never thought she would have with him.
Suddenly, she heard the main door open, announcing Lisa's arrival. Lisa hadn't even noticed her since when she arrived it was all dark. When Lisa heard a voice calling her in the distance she screamed and now it was Y/n's turn to laugh. Lisa put her hands to her chest and threw her keys at her in protest.
“You really scared the shit out of me Y/n. What the fuck are you doing with every light turned off? Are you a vampire and I didn’t notice it?” Lisa throws herself on the couch “Huuuuufff finally home! I've never had a day as long as this one. Meetings after meetings, just boring shit. How was your day? Was it a nightmare or a cool one?” Y/n gave a half smile
"Initially it was shitty, but it ended pretty well" Lisa raised her head and made a suspicious face.
“That means something did happen. Oh my god, is it Jungkook related?”
“Yes and no” Lisa was confused. “Last night before going to sleep I sent a text to Sewoon, trying to talk to her about the things I found out on that trip regarding Tae, but she didn't give me an answer so I didn't think much about it anymore. Today, it was almost time for my break when I saw her come in. I told Sana that I was going outside and would be right back, but the conversation didn't go as I expected. She was horrible Lisa, she said tons of shit that affected me a lot. I never met this person before. I saw a person I didn't know existed.”
“What did she tell you?” Lisa whispered and Y/n lowered her head, sighing.
“She basically said that she was happy I had disappeared without telling anyone, that the only bad thing was that Jungkook was constantly wanting to know my whereabouts and not even with the pictures she showed him did he calm down. Ohh and that she prayed for news to arrive that something bad had happened to me. She also mentioned that I had stolen Tae from her and that she’d do everything to be with Jungkook, especially since they had already been together a few times, so she had no doubt that he would choose her over me. A bunch of shit.”
“SHE SAID WHAT? God that girl needs a punch to bring her back to reality I swear the next time I see her I’m gonna end her. Who does she think she is f--” Y/n interrupted her
“It’s okay Lisa. Actually, I need to thank her. After that, I was so upset that Sana told me to leave, I needed to clear my head and you were working so I decided to take a walk. Somehow, I ended up in front of Jungkook's workplace, he ended up seeing me and went after me and insisted on bringing me home, however, I told him I had to make a stop by La Dolce Perla and we ended up having dinner there. Although things were VERY tense at the beginning, by the end of the night I ended up letting some things out and he didn't judge me or anything, quite the opposite, he kept me calm and respected me. There was something in the air you know? Something that was pulling us closer to each other. We almost kissed” Lisa squealed in excitement but then stopped and made a funny face.
“So why didn't you?”
“I - I don’t know... I guess he noticed how nervous I was. We were saying goodbye and then he told me he’d wait for me. I don’t know what kind of waiting was he referring to but somehow that gave me comfort, but I’m not sure it’s a good thing, I mean it gives me hope for a future for us but with Sewoon in the picture I--”
“Why don’t you talk to him about Sewoon? A real and open conversation where both of you get all the answers to your questions. You guys have a lot of connection, don’t miss that over misunderstandings.” Lisa said while hugging Y/n, excusing herself to get ready for bed. She had a very busy day in her company and she was wrecked. Y/n was tired too, so she went to her bedroom, did her routine and fell asleep, or at least she tried to.
On the next day Sana wouldn’t be there so she’d be with the new guy. She never got to make a full shift with him and she was curious to see how it’d go. By the time her alarm went off Y/n was wide awake and ready to star her day. She had the weirdest yet the best dream ever. It was about Jungkook and she was enjoying it so much that when she woke up she cursed her neighbor for making so much noise at 08:15 a.m.
She was going to make a double shift. She hated when her boss asked her favors like these but she really needed the money, that’s what kept her going. Getting there she saw Namjoon cleaning tables. Sana wouldn’t stop gushing over him, how cute he looked or how mature he was for someone his age. Even though Sana didn't have the courage to admit her feelings for him (yet, according to her) there was a palpable chemistry between them. The few moments that Y/n witnessed, made her think about her example, how much she thought she and Jungkook understood each other until Sewoon appeared. The day was passing by very peacefully. Right now there were only two customers so she and Namjoon took the opportunity to get some things done earlier. While at it, they got to know each other better and when they finished what they were doing, they ended up engaging in a deep conversation.
Okay, she had to agree with Sana, he had a great view on life and knew a lot for a 20-year-old. They were so absorbed in their conversation they didn't even notice the arrival of a new customer. Hearing the chirping of a throat in order to draw the attention of the two of them, Y/n was surprised to see Jungkook there with a look she couldn’t describe. Namjoon must have felt the weight of Jungkook’s eyes on him because he used some lame excuse to get out of there as soon as possible, leaving her alone with him.
“Jungkook, hi! I – I wasn't expecting to see you here at this time of the day. Usually you come a little later... Is everything okay?” Jungkook took a whole minute to respond, glancing between her and the door Namjoon had «escaped»
“Yes, everything’s fine. I hmmm- I was around and I-- I know it's almost your lunch time so I passed by to see if you wanted to have lunch with me.” He looks at Namjoon when he sees him walking out with some boxes. “But if you’re busy yo-”
“Imnotbusyatall” she answered so quickly Jungkook didn’t understand a thing so she had to repeat herself, calmer this time. “Sorry. I meant to say I’m not busy. I have two hours for lunch since I'm working double shifts today. I just wasn’t expecting to see you so... early. I mean, for someone who usually shows up around 9pm, it's quite surprising” She smiled, turning her attention to the door, only to see Namjoon walk in again looking at her and Jungkook. He gave her a thumbs up, she flipped him off surreptitiously. Jungkook, on the other hand, was paying attention to all these actions. He's never seen this guy before, maybe he didn’t pay much attention to him. They seemed to have hit off pretty nice and for some reason he didn't like that at all.
“I finished the morning session earlier than expected so I Ieft early as well. It's 10 minutes to 1 pm, can I stay here waiting for you or do you think you’ll have problems with that guy?”
“With Namjoon? Naah, he’s cool. I'll just tell him to come replace me so I can change clothes and we can go. I’ll be right back.” As said, Y/n went to warn Namjoon and went towards the locker room. She left after 5 minutes, seeing Jungkook waiting for her near the exit. Weird, he usually used to wait for her at the counter where she and Sana usually stay, where Namjoon currently is as well.
“Why are you waiting here? It’s not your normal spot you know? Joon won’t bite you for standing there” Y/n said laughing while approaching Jungkook. Seeing her, he adjusted his coat and smiled, opened the door motioning for her to go through it first, leaving behind her.
“I didn't like him, that's all, so I preferred to wait here. Besides, I didn't want to cause trouble. "
"Why would you cause trouble? It's not like this is the first time you've come in here or waited for me to leave. And what do you mean you didn't like him? Do you know each other by any chance? Where's the Jungkook who says we shouldn't judge a book by it's cover?” Y/n was teasing him and he knew it, answering with a little shut up. About five minutes away down the road there was a small burger place. It wasn't the first time they went there to eat, she loved the burgers there and the space was heaven. When they sat down, the waiter took their order and went to get their drinks, returning two minutes later. They both said thank you, giving some sips on their coca cola’s. Jungkook broke off the silence first.
“So..you and the new guy seemed pretty close. Cool guy hm?”
“His name is Namjoon and yes we got along quite well. You wanna know a fun fact? it was our first day working together officially. He started when I was on vacation and he’s been doing more day shifts with Sana. But yeah, he’s pretty nice. I was surprised, he’s younger than us but he’s pretty mature for his age and he made me laugh a lot today. It made my double shift a lot easier.”
“Ohhh”. Jungkook gave a few sips on his drink. “Glad it only took him a few minutes for you to be able to feel comfortable with him. It took me ages for you to look at my face. No one would tell it was your first time working together. You must have really liked him” Was he jealous?
“There’s nothing going on between us if that’s what you’re trying to know.” Jungkook chocked on his drink and tried to look everywhere but her. “We made a great team today but that’s it. He’s not my type. Besides, Sana has a crush on him. I’d never do that to a friend of mine”. Jungkook understood the hint. When he was about so speak, the waiter came with their orders. He waited for him to leave again so he could say what he wanted.
“I’m sorry” Y/n frowned.
“Sorry? What for?”
"It was bad of me to come between you and Sewoon. It's a long story and I have to tell you all about it, but at the same time I want to respect your space and time. I should have talked to you as soon as I realized something was going on, but I was confused and--” Y/n interrupted him.
“Were you happy? While you were with Sewoon I mean. Did she make you feel happy?” For the first time Jungkook didn't know what to answer because he genuinely didn't know. Looking back, he knows he was never in love with her, it was just a momentary thing. He realized this too late and now he’s paying for it. Y/n noticed his discomfort so she changed the subject. “This place is without a doubt the one with the best burgers. This is my second favorite place, I really enjoy coming here and this is sooooo good or maybe it's just me being so hungry.” She said, laughing at her own words. Jungkook laughed too. One of the things he never felt with Sewoon: lightness and tranquility. With her, everything was always a competition and based on image. Very controlled, very fake, very rehearsed.
During their meal, they talked about basic things related to life, work and dreams, ordered dessert and drank coffee. Jungkook paid their meals and even though Y/n refused he didn't listen, telling her to pay next time. When they got outside, Jungkook took out a cigarette and stayed like that, grabbing it. Y/n looked at him with a questioning face.
"How come I didn’t know you smoked? I mean every time we went out I never noticed. I was so surprised to see you smoking the other day”
"And you said you hadn't noticed me." He said laughing. "I don't smoke much, usually after coffee or when I'm nervous/anxious. I've always tried not to smoke around you because I know you don't like the smell, so I avoid it."
"Is that why you haven't lit your cigarette yet?" Jungkook looked at the hand that had the cigarette between his fingers. "Maybe" he said wrinkling his nose, looking at her with those sweet bambi eyes. God help her because she can't stay away from this man much longer. During their way back to her work she expected him to light the cigarette, but at no point did he do so. She even told him that if he needed to smoke to do it, that she didn't have to be an obstacle simply because she didn't like it, to which he replied that there were priorities and at that moment smoking wasn't one of them. She didn't say anything back but Jungkook noticed the blush on her cheeks and the shy smile on her face.
“I wasn’t happy” Y/n looked at him wondering what he meant by that. He keeps talking. “You asked me if I was happy with Sewoon and my answer is no. Everything was a facade between us and now I can see how dumb I was to call it love. There were no feelings between us, only physical attraction and illusions. I know I messed up bad by getting together with her Y/n and I wish I could take it back. Even though I didn’t know your feelings for me but it was wrong and you have no idea how bad I feel for hurting you, even without meaning to. I’m truly deeply sorry.” Y/n felt so bad for him. It was a mix of emotions and she just wanted to comfort him so she stopped walking, grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her, hugging him tight, whispering
"You're not to blame for anything. If anything I'm to blame because I was the one who didn't speak up." He moved away a little, although they were very close. "We don't control our feelings. It's not your fault that I fell in love with you just as it's not your fault that you felt something for Sewoon, just as I don't blame her for having something with you even though she knew about my feel--” She stopped talking when she saw his shocked face. His face changed drastically when she said Sewoon knew about her feelings, he was angry and you could see it. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Sewoon knew? She knew and you still insisted on pushing her to me?!” He was mad.
“What was I supposed to do? You’re my best friend and I was afraid of ruining it with you, then you wanted to meet her and I just couldn’t say no. I knew you two were perfect for each other. I- I didn’t want to be selfish- I -”
“FOR ONCE Y/n. Just for once you should’ve been selfish! Do you have any idea of how hard this has been for me? just to know that you were the one who gave me to her just like that? Was I not enough for you, was that it?”
“Jungkook, no... Wh- What are you saying? I was the one that wasn’t enough for YOU. That’s why I introduced you to her.” At this point Jungkook had already moved away quite a bit, running his hands through his hair.
“You were more than enough Y/n. You just didn't bother to face what was in front of you. Why do you want everything to be given to you? Is it really that hard for you to take control of your life for once? You would’ve avoided so many things Y/n. But you know what? I'm glad it was this way, maybe you and I weren't meant to be after all and we’re just realizing this now.” He sighed. “C’mon, I need to go and you have to go work as well.
The last minutes felt like hours. Y/n hadn't realized how things had gotten to that point, it wasn't possible to understand. She thought it was unfair that he was blaming her for not opening up, even though he was upset, but even so. When they arrived Y/n grabbed his arm once more.
“Jungkook, you can’t leave like this. You can’t drive being all raged up right now. Talk to me, please. I know I should’ve been more honest about things but I was scared and- and it’s not like you gave me any signs of any feelings either. I wanted you to be happy desp-” he released himself from her grip.
“I did gave you signs Y/n! I fucking did!That's why I'm so messed up. I - The only reason why I approached Sewoon in the first place was to have a reaction from you and to know things I knew I couldn't ask you directly.” It was Y/n’s turn to be shocked. What? “I know you avoid relationships and everything related to boys because you’re scared. If I told you how I felt or what I wanted I was scared you'd run away from me like you always do so I kept giving you signs Y/n but I had no reaction from you at all. I knew who Sewoon was from some pictures on your Instagram so when I challenged you to introduce me to her I was testing waters, however, your indifference remained there. It's not just my fault. I took you on dates and you would dismiss it, saying it was just two best friends hanging out. I left work every day and waited for you every day. In my free time I would come here to keep you company and be close to you while I sketch things that I could easily do at home. I have a cafe in front of my store and yet I’m- Always- Here- You can't be that oblivious Y/n. You were the one to put a label on us every goddamn time! You say you’re in love with me? No Y/n you’re not, otherwise you wouldn’t have given up so damn fast and give me to your best friend like a damn trophy the moment she asked. Hurts to know that I didn't deserve a second thought.” Y/n could only look at him. He looked so damn honest and he was so disappointed in her. There was hurt all over his face and that was killing her. She wanted to say something but she couldn’t so she did what she always does: let him go.
She shouldn't have let him go. The rest of the day was fulfilled with anxiety and guilt. Every day she discovered new things and every time she thought her and Jungkook were stepping forward, they took five steps back. She was ruining everything good she had ever dreamed of with her cowardice and lack of communication. She should've gone after him, yet pride got the best of her.
Like always.
After the argument he got in the car and left. At first she tried not to think about it too much, but then she felt the guilt consume her. When she was alone with just a few clients, she sent several texts to Jungkook, apologizing for the way things happened, for them to talk and clear things up once and for all.
No response.
Lisa was going to spend the night out, so once again she found herself alone in that giant apartment. Without thinking she called Jungkook, going straight to voicemail all the six times she tried. The only positive thing was that the next day it'd be her day off and she’d try to talk to Jungkook and clear things up.
Hopefully
The next day Y/n woke up with a huge weight beside her bed. When she opened her eyes she saw Lisa looking at her with a smile from ear to ear.
"Good morning, sunshine. I'm going to do something crazy and I want you to come with me. Hurry up, get even more pretty and let's go. If I’m late and loose my turn I'm going to kill you.”
That's what consisted being friends with Lisa: waiting for her to wake her up at 9:30 in the morning for something that had popped into her mind out of pure spontaneity was just an example of it. She was adventurous and left nothing undone or unsaid because, according to her, you only live once and she would rather regret what she didn't do than everything she tried and failed at.
That's how at 10 in the morning Y/n found herself in front of the tattoo shop where Jungkook works. The only thing she wanted to do was turn around and leave. Gosh, he's been ignoring her attempts to contact him, how could she just walk in there like nothing was happening? She remembers talking to Lisa about getting tattoos. She never had courage for it, besides, Sewoon would tell her all the time they wouldn't suit her, thus she gave up of the idea. Lisa encouraged her, saying that when she did hers Y/n would do it too, but now, her stomach was churning and it seemed like the only thing that was going to come out was vomit. When they arrived at the entrance Y/n stopped.
“I can’t go in with you. I’m sorry”
“What do you mean you can’t? You can’t leave me alone at it. Also, I booked you a session so you have to show up.” Lisa said innocently.
“You knew Jungkook works here, didn't you? You little bi--”
“Hey hey hey. There’s no time for that my friend. We're about to get hotter and have something marked on us. Let’s go.” She was fucked. Lisa linked her arm with her and they walked inside. It was a very peaceful place, with drawings on display, music playing and a diffuser. Of course. Jungkook was addicted to smells and very weird about them too.
The first person they saw was the red-haired lady Y/n had seen close to Jungkook the other day. Seen up close, she was even more stunning. Since Lisa was the one scheduling the session, the red-haired who introduced herself as Athena went to talk to Lisa to see what was she interested in. As she talked to her about the type of tattoo she wanted, presenting some sketches too for her to choose, Y/n looked around, praying she wouldn't see Jungkook while being there.
“What about you? What kind of design did you think of?” She asked Y/n, giving her a genuine smile. "First time? You don't have to stress about it honey, it's most likely for you not to feel a thing"
“Ohh I didn’t think of anything... You see I was totally caught up on this. I didn't know I was coming so I didn'--- "
“Her idea was to make a semicolon on her wrist. Something simple. Y/n, babe, we talked about this. You’re not gonna chicken out right?” Y/n looked at her friend and her answer shocked herself more than anyone else in the room. “Okay. Yes you’re right Lisa. I’m already here so why not?” Lisa opened her mouth, closing it up immediately, smiling. Change comes with little steps.
One step at a time
Athena showed Lisa some ideas until she finally chose what she liked the most. She was getting a sternum tattoo and the sketch Athena did was a piece of art, all those lines and details were just too perfect. She then excused herself to pick something up, disappearing for about 2 minutes, that's all it took for disaster to happen. While they were waiting for her to return they saw Jungkook walk through the door with two coffees. As he placed them on a small table in the entrance, Y/n realizes he didn't see them there, at least not until Athena returned to the room and spoke to him, causing him to look up where they were standing.
"Yooh Jkaay I'm glad you got here. Can you finish this design for me? I have these two pretty ladies here and the client will come by later to see if the drawing is ready but there are some parts I'm having trouble getting right, can you help me with this?” As soon as Jungkook looked up, he met Y/n's gaze, which was already focused on him. He had no reaction. “Hey lover boy. I know they’re pretty but I’m kinda waiting for an answer here”
“Hmmm.. Oh yeah- yes. You can leave it there I’ll be sure to give it a look.” his gaze was intense as it met yours but didn't say anything, as if he didn't know you. Athena thanked him and directed the two of them to a large room. While her friend took her shirt off and laid down on her back, Athena settled everything on the sterilized table. Y/n was inspecting the drawings on the wall, realizing Jungkook's signature on the end of all of them. After placing the artwork where Lisa wanted Athena grabbed the tattoo machine, filling the room with the sounds the needles working and Y/n got scared. She was sure that was gonna hurt. 10 minutes in there's a knock on the door. After Athena replied, Jungkook walked in the room with what Y/n thought was the drawing she asked him to check.
“This is fantastic Kook. If the idiot doesn't like it I'll have it myself. It's incredible." Jungkook smiled and looked at Y/n and then at Athena again. "This is going to be a lot of work Ath. It's full of details and has such a thin line. You have to be careful not to smudge as you clean it."
"I know, I hadn't realized that. It's going to be a challenge but it'll look cool on her body. I still have her friend to tattoo but that’s something small and quick.” Jungkook looked at her way.
“I can do it. I’m free and won’t have any client until noon.” Y/n froze in the moment. No fucking way.
"I can wait. It's okay, really." Jungkook looked at her, picked up some still-closed material and opened the door. "Come on, I'll take care of it." And for a second, Y/n didn't know how to breathe anymore
Jungkook was waiting for her to follow him. When he noticed she wasn't moving at all he called out for her name again. Unconsciously, Y/n ended up getting up and going after him but she didn't leave without looking at the place Athena and Lisa were, noticing the strange expression Athena made. Had Jungkook ever mentioned her?
He went ahead, taking her to a more private room which was on the first floor. It was quite far from all the other rooms and common area. When they arrived there, he motioned for her to sit in front of what she assumed was Jungkook's desk. There were photos of several people, she doesn’t remember meeting any of them until one got her attention: it was a picture of Jungkook and Sewoon together. He was wearing white and she was wearing a black dress. She remembers this day very well- It was in the beginning of their relationship and Sewoon was having a party with her agency and Jungkook was her date, they were both so pretty and cuddly and looked so into each other. Jungkook was treating her like a princess and it was the first time Y/n felt anger towards her best friend. She cried all night after getting home, spying Sewoon's instagram and all the love-dovey pics she was posting. What a night
He sat on the chair in front of Y/n, behind his desk to sketch what she wanted to tattoo when he noticed where her eyes were wandering at, grabbing the picture and putting it in a drawer. She didn’t say anything, looking everywhere but him.
“According to Athena you wanted just a simple semicolon on your wrist, right? So I did sketch want you wanted but added something more. If you don’t like it or want it you can say it and I'll do just what you initially wanted okay?” Jungkook showed her a design of a semicolon with a butterfly wing around it. It was honestly so beautiful. She remembers saying to him one time she identified herself as a butterfly, because no matter the situation she was going through she could always adapt herself and learn from it. Did he remember that?
“I- I love it Jungkook. This is so pretty and personal, I- Thank you, this is amazing. I’ll have it that way”
“Are you sure? It’s gonna be there forever”
“I’m 100% sure. Start this before I lose my courage” Jungkook gave her a nod, taking the paper and putting it on her skin with some wet liquid. He could tell she was nervous so he told her when he was about to start. “If you need me to stop let me know. We have time okay?” Y/n nodded
“You have amazing sketches here. Not that I didn't know but you're super talented, I feel grateful that it’s you doing this on me. When you become a world-renowned artist I'm gonna brag about it, I’m already warning you.” After their fight yesterday, Y/n was trying to ease the tension between them but he was making it hard. She missed Jungkook and wanted to clear things up with him. She was done with all the confusion and misunderstandings, however, Jungkook remained in silence. “Please Jungkook I’m trying. I miss you. I miss us. I don’t even understand what happened yesterday and I’m sorry for hurting you in any way. I’m tired of this! You're driving me crazy by leaving me in this void. I'm not like this Jk, you know it. I don't care about boys but just the thought of losing you is killing me. That's the effect you have on me!” He wasn’t paying attenton to her at all, or maybe he was just ignoring her on purpose, either ways she was getting more and more frustrated and did her best to keep her tears to herself since she couldn't get out of there. With her free hand, she surreptitiously wiped her eyes with her shirt sleeve. What she didn’t know was that Jungkook was paying attention to all her movements.
“I’m sorry. I talk a lot with my clients for them to relax a bit but with you... I feel like if I talk I'm not gonna be able to concentrate and I don’t want to mess this up. You make me nervous just with your presence. That's the effect you have on me Y/n. When it comes to you I can't separate things”
"I could’ve waited for Athena to do it. Actually I think it’d be better, given the situation we are at right now. Damn Jungkook I put my guard down for you and now you're treating me like this, what for? You criticize me for avoiding things, yet you're doing the exact same thing, it's not fair. You can't say whatever you want, make me feel bad and then do the same to me. I know I messed up somewhere. I know I should've been braver, but you are such a special and necessary part of my life that I was afraid of you not feeling the same way, could break everything we built so far, which is stupid right now because that's exactly what happened. There is no way we can go back to what we were before” By the time she ended her speech, Jungkook was already putting the final touches on the tattoo, being done with it. Both of them remained silenced until he had picked up the tattoo protection to place it around her skin.
“Let’s do it then. Let’s put everything on the table and be honest because honestly I can’t handle this anymore too. Where do you want me to start? From the day we first met? I had the shittiest day ever it was raining so much. That’s what made me stop at the coffee shop. Then you looked absolutely gorgeous standing there looking at me and when you noticed I was staring back and pretended to have lost an earring, that caught my attention, how innocent and naive you looked. Then I started to get to know you better and it was it for me. It was so hard not to fall for you. I kept taking you out to places but you always friendzoned me somehow, I would tell you about non existing dates to see your reaction but you always had the same posture, I came to terms that it was a one-sided thing. Then Sewoon happened. When you introduced us, honestly I was very straightforward with her. I asked her about you, if you liked someone if you ever talked about me, you know, something to give me hope. But the answers she gave me weren’t the ones I expected to hear and I was so disappointed.” Y/n's system was soon on alert.
“What- - What did she tell you?” Jungkook took a while to answer which was making her impatient. She was about to lose her mind.
“She told me you were seeing someone and it was getting serious. That she was sorry but wouldn’t get in the way. After that, we kept talking a little more and when I was about to leave she was the one asking me to go out with her. Just a simple date so I said yes, maybe that would help me take my mind of you. Then things happened and time skipped and we broke up and yeah I didn’t take that well because no one likes to feel they failed at something, but I’m so glad we did. We didn’t align in anything, we fought a lot behind doors. Then came the party you and Sewoon went. I was already there remember? You looked so sad and the first thing I remembered was the guy you were supposed to be seeing. I was hoping you were long gone with the dude but the way you were acting and how you were talking to me ended up confirming Sewoon’s words about you and that special someone and I--- I lost my mind.”
“So you ended up kissing Sewoon to relieve all that anger, right?” She got up and slowly turned her way towards the door when Jungkook grabbed her arm.
“That was a terrible mistake. As soon as I realized what I did I stepped back immediately. After that I looked everywhere for you, but I didn’t found you. When I did, you told me you were leaving with someone and that was it. I tried talking to you all night but your phone was either out of reach or you wouldn’t respond.” There's this awkward silence until one of them spok again.
“That night broke me Jungkook. You broke me. I was there, I was hurt and you noticed something was up but all your eyes were looking at was Sewoon. I wished so many times it was me you were kissing, holding, touching. I'd see you with her and all I imagined was us. That was so toxic of me, that's why I left, because I couldn't see you leave with her knowing the next day I'd know everything about it."
They didn't realize how close they were until they felt each other's breath hitting their faces. Y/n doesn't know when things changed, but since the night at the restaurant there is something that pushes them towards each other. She gets a strange feeling in her belly, in her chest… down there. It's strange, she never felt something like this for anyone and it was confusing her. She knows if he asked her something she'd do it on the spot. It seems like Jungkook could feel the tension either because the hand that was previously on her arm was now around her waist, while the other caressed the right side of her face tucking some hair behind her ear. It was then that she felt the distance between them getting shorter and shorter, when all of a sudden they heard someone knock on the door, opening it, revealing Athena's slightly confused figure.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt, I heard voices and came to check if you were okay, as it's not usual for you to bring anyone here. I-- hmm- just wanted to let you know that I finished Lisa's piece and we're downstairs drinking some coffee and talking in case you'd want to join us when you finished whatever you were.... doing, but no pressure, make yourself comfortable, I didn't see anything. Use protection, okay? You still have a life to enjoy before any surprises." Jungkook made a desperate sound looking at Athena and throwing something at her
"Don't be an idiot, it's not what it looks like and you know it. Anyone hearing you talk would think you see me doing a lot of dirty things here. Work is work and I take it very seriously." Jungkook paused, glacing at Y/n, just to speak again. " We'll meet you downstairs in 10 minutes, I just need to finish explaining how she should handle this in the next few days." Athena hummed, giving them a nod before leaving. However, they heard her tell Lisa that - they were busy and would probably take longer to joy them- They knew she spoke loud for them to hear. Jungkook went to a drawer and took out a cream, handing it to Y/n.
"For the next three days you must avoid direct sunlight on the area. This protection should last for 24 hours, then you can remove it in the shower or by wetting the area with warm water, drying it well and applying the cream two or three times a day. If you feel any itching, that's normal, but if you see red spots around it let me know so I can check it out. But in principle, everything should be fine." Y/n nodded and thanked him, grabbing her wallet, heading towards the door but stopped halfway and turned around, facing Jungkook.
"Did you sleep with Sewoon here?"those words came out faster than Y/n could control. Why the hell did she ask that. Jungkook wasn't expecting that either, because his mouth opened and closed several times, not knowing what to answer, a little embarrassed. This gave Y/n a feeling that maybe the answer was yes. "Never mind, sorry, I don't know why I asked this. Forget it." She turned around again ready to open the door. She was about to do so when a hand above her head slammed the door shut again with a bang.
"Why do you always put me in difficult positions? It's past and - aiish- No Y/n, I didn't. This is my office, my space, my privacy, I don't bring anyone for anything more than work, not even Sewoon. This wasn't exactly the space she liked to frequent the most" Y/n nodded.
"I don't know why I asked, I'm sorry. Being here knowing that you and her were- you know- that would be just weird and gross. I mean, who knows what kind of "things" would be around here and-- Okay, nevermind. How about we go down? They're waiting for us and will start thinking stuff about us being here."
"So? Let them think what they want to think.. I'm not bothered at all. Are you?" When Y/n was about to answer, the door opened without warning revealing an excited Athena again, but she didn't realize that when she opened the door she had hit Y/n with it. "Shit Ath be careful. Knock before coming in. Jesus"
"Dude, I don't know what the situation is between you two, but behind the door is definitely not the best place. Been there, done that. It's interesting but not comfortable. Also, why are you so bothered by the knocking thing all of a sudden? That was never a rule. Just put something on the door handle to when you're busy doing other things. That's what I do with your broth-"
"Aiiiishh Athena. I'm not really interested in what you and my brother do or don't do, How disgusting. We were just talking! Stop being nosy and up on my ass. What's the matter with you today? why are you always coming here thought? You never care when I’m upstairs”
“Well you’re always by yourself, there’s nothing for me to pry on. Either way, I came here to tell you that the client you had for noon called to inform he’s no longer able to come. His wife went into labour, so you’re free for now”
“Well at least is for some good reasons. I’ll call him up later to reschedule.” Athena would steal glances from Jungkook to Y/n with a funny look, trying to see something she could pick up to tease them more “Anyway, I think I’ll grab lunch with Lisa. She’s pretty rad. Do you wanna come?” It was Y/n’s turn to speak
“I actually have some things to get done, but you go and have fun. Maybe we can grab a coffee later?” All she wanted was to run. After that stupid question she made she just wanted somewhere to hide.
“Of course, just give me your number. It’ll be easier” they both switched numbers and Athena gave a final goodbye to her, giving her a hug and winking to Jungkook, whispering behave before shutting the door completely. What the hell.
“So... The girls are leaving and you probably have things to do too so I should get going as well. I have to meet up with Joon, he asked me if I could stop by so hmmm, yeah. Thanks for your time. If - if I have any questions I’ll pass by. Thank you once again." This was her cue to leave. Uttering those words she was out of the door, running down the stairs getting closer and closer to the main door but when she reached it, it was locked.
Goddamn it!
She was thinking about calling Lisa to turn around and wait for her when she heard footsteps behind her. She didn't dare to look back but in question of minutes she felt Jungkook's chest against her back, hearing him whisper
"Why are you always in such a rush when it comes to me? What are you so afraid of?" Jungkook turned her around to face him. "Let yourself go Y/n. For me, for you, for us. We've been over the friendship thing for a while now, don't you think? No matter how much you try to deny it, the attraction is here" He was so close to her she could feel his heartbeat.
"I can't" She whispered. "Everytime I look at you I get myself reminded of how you used to be with Sewoon. There was her before me and I can't compare. I can't erase that image of my head. I- I want to forget, but I can't"
"I'll help you forget. Let me help you forget, but mainly let me show you how there's no comparison between you and her" They were so close and there was so much desire so she let herself go and feel all she wanted, grabbing Jungkook by the hem of his grey shirt and closing the distance between them. The response to the kiss was automatic. Y/n felt Jungkook kiss her back as if he had already been waiting for this moment. Slowly at first, like they were testing each other, until he slowly pushed her against the door, placing his hand behind her neck, deepening the kiss. She never had a kiss like that. At this point she felt the entire zoo inside her and she was aware of everything around her: of how Jungkook's hands were hovering over her body, how their mouths were thirsty for each other, the way their bodies were so close yet so far.
It was just them and their desire for each other. And at that moment that was all that mattered.
Bonus: The famous tattoos made
Lisa’s OC'S
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You're welcome ;)
Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @jk97bam @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv @imagine-this-motherfucker @jk-190811 @cryingoverpixelsetc @11thenightwemet11 @rinkud @ayatie97 @jk-190811 @shaku1995 @blueberriesm @darkangelfei
#jungkook#angst#bts#jungkook imagines#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#fluff#imagines#kpop romance#kpopangst#tattoos
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i love to explain my opinions so here's my actual drinking headcanons
siffrin - doesn't seem to get tipsy. he mostly just gets less anxious, which means he's less worried about saying the wrong thing but also less concerned with pushing himself to talk, so he's basically behaving the same way and just having different emotions about it! they appear perfectly stone-cold sober until they eventually suddenly hit drunk drunk and now they're liable to fall flat on their face and not remember it the next morning. takes a while to get there though, they may be small but they're also prone to alcoholism. (drinking to self-medicate mental illness is not a good idea, everyone.)
mirabelle - thinks beer smells nasty; wine's better, but grape juice is one of the worst fruit juices to begin with so eh. she'll have a hard cider on occasion or a fruity mixed drink, but only one and maybe not even the whole thing. she doesn't like feeling weird and she gets worried about acting weird!
isabeau - gets tipsy on half a mixed drink and then gets steadily more drunk from there. historically hasn't gone past two drinks in a row for fear of messing up his himbo persona, though he metabolizes it fast enough that if he's staying out late he can have another drink or two. being drunk turns isabeau into even more of a clown; he wants to have fun and he wants everyone else to have fun and more importantly he wants them to like him!! he'll fetch the next round, tip generously, share his food, join unwise schemes just because someone asked him to and pointing out the risks would make him seem like a square, etc.
odile - would drink vodka straight out of the bottle and get reckless as a youth. good thing cars don't exist! she no longer believes that she's too smart to make stupid decisions, but she still likes to cut loose with a couple shots, which she's very consistent about: she knows exactly how much alcohol will get her pleasantly buzzed without leading to a hangover. she's a lot more open and social when she's drunk. she's happy enough with her usual dry humor and too-old-for-this attitude, but sometimes it's nice to have an excuse to get uncharacteristically silly and dramatic for an evening instead!
pétronille: doesn't drink. she says it's because she has too many responsibilities, but she doesn't like to be around drunk people, either.
euphrasie: likes wine. she might have a glass or two to unwind after a long day, or pop open a nice vintage on a special occasion. she's willing to try other drinks, but she already knows what she likes the best and she's definitely not looking to get wasted. being too impaired makes it hard to do all the things she wants to do! she's more affectionate when she's tipsy, which is saying something because she's already quite enthusiastic and loving and touchy.
claude: prefers other substances, but isn't opposed to drinking. she's not picky about what the drink is, though she likes to try weird mixed drinks and euphrasie's wines and homemade brews. she doesn't see the point of having one or two drinks; if she's having more than a sip then she's getting blasted. she isn't a very inhibited person anyway, so she's not very different while drunk, just even louder and more distractible.
loop: can't get drunk because they can't consume anything. if they could, and weren't pulled into the party by siffrin immediately post-canon, they'd be physically dependent on alcohol within a month.
#ending on a real downer lmao. but that's just how it is with alcohol :| sometimes it's fine! but too often it isn't#isat#alcohol#cw alcohol#thoughts#thoughts about the whole family#fuck this is a lot of characters#thoughts about siffrin#thoughts about mirabelle#thoughts about isabeau#thoughts about odile#thoughts about nille#thoughts about euphrasie#thoughts about claude#thoughts about loop
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@sugarrushsock Wow I’m so happy someone actually has all the receipts cuz every other post just seems like vague call out post with no substance. Also wildly the Henry cavill just seems to say whatever makes him look best at that moment. You’d think he’d have a better pr team
@cilianda1 His interviews are scripted all the time
@sugarrushsock They’re terrible at their job if that’s the case. The lack of consistency is alarming to say the least. Like stick to a story cuz they made this guy look stupid
Okay, just to address this, but Henry Cavill's PR was actually a lot more insidious than this post might make things seem. Because he really only fucked up and showed his hand a few times.
Like, out of +50 interviews for S2, it's only in (iirc) 3 interviews that he ever acknowledges anything about how he was the one cutting Geralt's lines — and even then, all of those interviews either happened at con panels, in interviews over ~10 mins long, and/or in foreign/non-english press — all of which are significantly less likely to be seen and reported on by the fandom and larger news outlets. But in all the rest of those +50 interviews? He was talking about how much he pushed for a more verbose Geralt whilst never acknowledging how HE'S the one responsible for that mess in the first place.
Same thing with him going on about how much he cares about adhering to the source material as if Lauren's vision of the show is somehow in opposition to that. He went on and on and on about that all throughout the press for S2, but it's only in a few interviews where he fucks up and actually gives the context for what he meant by "Lauren's vision" ie Yennefer and Ciri being just as important as Geralt is and the show heavily centering around women.
Or, like, in S1 interviews, he was perfectly fine with bringing up how he had no idea about the books until Lauren told him about them and he had no problem talking about how much he was inspired by the video games for his performance as Geralt. Then come S2 (after he'd gotten dunked on by reddit for his book inaccurate performance in S1) and he suddenly changed his tune, hardly mentioned the games as inspiring his performance again (or, really, at all), and started going on and on about the books.
Or even with him admitting to, basically, having only played the third game despite saying he's played all the games and everything — he only ever admitted that in maybe, like, 2 interviews all of which were in foreign/non-english press. Same thing with him admitting he only ever read through the series once — he only ever said that in one interview and it was at a +40 minute long con panel.
Or even this quote from S1 press where he admits to how he didn't actually prepare for the role or do any research:
"I asked my agent to put me on the spot and wanted to meet Lauren as soon as possible. I didn’t even need to prepare specially for the role. Because I breathe, I experience this universe every day. I’ve already had many opportunities to think about this character when I was playing the game. My preparation was already done before the casting even began!"
Like, where is that quote from? It's from an interview he did with a french magazine. So obviously not a lot of people saw it. Plus, the quote might sound… fine without context. But what is the context? He hadn't read any of the books and he had only ever really played the third game.
Like, adding it all up, it does look bad. Because it is lol. But the thing is, the vast, vast, vast majority of the fanbase never did this. It read or watched maybe one or two interviews he did here and there and only ever saw Henry Cavill talking about how much of a fan he is, how much he knows, how hard he pushed for a more book accurate Geralt, how important adhering to the source material is to him. But when you actually look into everything he's said, that's when his whole story really falls apart because none of it adds up or makes any sense.
Debunking misinformation about Netflix's The Witcher (Part 1)
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7]
"Henry Cavill is a massive fan of the books and the games and he quit the show because the writers wouldn't stick to the books and he just cares about the source material so much."
Henry Cavill not only did not know that the books existed when he started pursuing the role of Geralt, but he actually thought that the books were based off of the video games (and he still didn't bother to read them) and he didn't learn that the games were actually based off the books until Lauren told him (even though the first thing in the game credits is that they're based off the books); as of 2021, he as only read the full series once — right before he was cast in 2018; while he has played TW3, he has only played a little of TW2 (and I've never found any evidence that he's played the first game); and he also has not played the DLC for TW3.
Henry Cavill also started heavily pushing the narrative that he's just such a massive fan of the books and how important adhering to the source material is to him during the press for S2 to deflect from how it was due to his acting choices of cutting Geralt's lines and either saying nothing or just grunting instead that Geralt's characterization — who is much more verbose in the books — was book inaccurate in S1:
He also lied about the situation and tried to act like Geralt was never originally written as being verbose and blamed the lack of dialogue on Yennefer and Ciri's prominence, which cannot be true as confirmed by Lauren:
And tried to act like the lines he was cutting weren't that important anyway so it wasn't really a big deal, which also cannot be true as confirmed by Joey:
He also started pushing the narrative that adhering to the source material is so important to him and it's 'tricky' to do that with Lauren's vision, but his definition of "Lauren's vision" is the show being an ensemble piece with Yennefer and Ciri at the forefront (like the books) and the show in general heavily centering around women (like the books):
So the idea of him caring so much about "book accuracy" is, in fact, not accurate to the books at all as his problems were the prominence of women in the show when Ciri is the main character of the main book series, which the show started adapting from S2 onwards (which is when Henry Cavill started to complain about wanting "book accuracy" in the first place), and when women are very prominent, central, key figures in the books and they often drive the plot forwards.
Lastly, S3 was the closest adaption of the books out of all the seasons so far, so the idea that he quit after S3 because the writers just weren't respecting the source material and the show wasn't following the books doesn't make any sense anyway.
"Henry Cavill is the only reason why the show was even close to the source material at all."
I've not only never seen any evidence of this, but if anything, I've seen the exact opposite: Henry Cavill was either directly responsible for or at least contributed in some way to a lot of things that went against the books or didn't happen in them.
As I already pointed out, he cut Geralt's lines in S1 and either said nothing or just grunted instead which is inaccurate to Geralt's characterization in the books. Here's another quote from Joey affirming that:
(Just to note: During the press for S1, he frequently talked about how the games inspired his performance as Geralt — sometimes talking about them even more than the books despite how the show is based off of the books, not the games — and it wasn't until S2 press that he suddenly changed his tune and started talking about how important adhering to the source material ie the books is to him. He also only started advocating for a more book accurate Geralt because he got dunked on by reddit for his book inaccurate performance in S1.)
He didn't want to play Geralt and Jaskier's friendship as directly as in the books and buddy-buddy with each other:
He didn't want to have any kind of conflict in Geralt and Ciri's relationship in S2 — at least on Geralt's side of things:
Nor play Geralt struggling with fatherhood at all — all of which led to the domino effect of Yennefer's betrayal:
Eskel's death (which in itself also led to things like Vesemir trying to create new witchers and Lambert's attitude toward Ciri):
And Voleth Meir being the big bad of the season:
He didn't want Geralt and Triss to even just platonically find comfort in each other in S2 — which is what happens in the books:
youtube
He nixed a sex scene between Geralt and Yennefer in S2 because he didn't think it'd be in character of them to have sex after reuniting which, uh, is absolutely in character of them:
While this is an incredibly inconsequential change, given the prevalence of this idea that Henry Cavill is such an ardent defender of the source material ie the books and how much he wanted the show to adhere to them, I do think it's important to note that he pushed for — and got — more signs into the show even though by his own admission that is more of a game thing than a book thing and he got it into the show for the explicit purpose of catering to game stans:
youtube
This is also another incredibly inconsequential change, but again, given how prevalent the idea of Henry Cavill pushing for perfect source accuracy is, I do just want to point out that he would wear his armor 24/7 to make it look worn down:
Even though it is canon in the books that Geralt will buy himself brand new clothes, so the idea that Geralt's clothing has to look worn down and can't be brand new is not actually book accurate.
"Lauren wanted to make Roach's death a joke."
Just to address this point specifically, Lauren wanted to make a meta reference about how all of Geralt's horses are named Roach. That in no way, shape, or form means that she wanted to make Roach's death into a joke or even that the scene had to be played comedically. This is what Lauren had to say about the subject and the 'joke' in question (which, js, actually fits the tone of the books more):
And as far as the "Henry Cavill is the only one who cared about the source material and he's the only reason why the show even stuck to the books at all" front goes... Henry Cavill did change the dialogue in this scene to a book quote/reference; however, the quote in question ("Enjoy your last walk across the meadow and through the mist. Be not afraid of her for she is your friend.") is not something that Geralt himself says and the line/scene from the books foreshadows Geralt's ending in them.
So, at least imo — especially taking into account the incredibly high standard the fandom has set for Henry Cavill as the #1 defender of the books — I don't think this change was actually book accurate especially given the narrative significance of that exchange in the books.
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Hey so like sorry if you're the wrong person to say this to but I love Jamil's character so much and it makes me so mad that the fandom takes Kalim's side in his ob when they're so much more sympathetic to everyone else's ob situation. Like all the ob's are caused by trauma so no olympics but Jamil was Kalim's slave??? He was literally fighting to stop being his slave? To the son of a rich merchant family that could decide the fate of his whole family?? The stakes were so fucking high. Kalim not knowing says everything about his relative privilege and nothing about his innocence. Kalim's saving grace was his willingness to change when he learned, but that slave-relationship was multigenerational and Jamil had no guarantee it would happen if he "asked for his freedom". I think the fandom has some real inner reckoning to consider about why Kalim crying is more upsetting than Jamil's (and his family's) life.
OKAY I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ON THIS ONE.
﹙𝑡𝑤𝑠𝑡.﹚ ─ WHY JAMIL TRAUMA IS (BUT SHOULDN'T BE) DOWNPLAYED
﹙ or why i support jamil viper rights and wrongs﹚
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٬٬ I think the most obvious reason is that Kalim, by being a very kind and often naïve person, wins people over quickly (myself included). He’s sweet, kind, and honest. He just wants to have a good time with his friends—he’s easy to be around and talk to. More often than not, a "happy person" is easier to forgive than someone you’re not as close to.
But what do I mean by that?
Jamil is not used to being himself. He always has to manage and calculate his every step to ensure he doesn’t overshadow Kalim’s presence, even though, by merit, he could be in the spotlight (which, at this point, I see as an unspoken Viper family tradition). And it’s not just when Kalim is around — even when Jamil is alone, he’s still under pressure to maintain his facade. We do see glimpses of him sometimes, especially after the overblot, where he's a little bit more acidic, smug and sincere, but the reality is that his entire life has been shaped around a forced role. The most frustrating part of his story is that when Jamil got to NRC, he had a brief moment of freedom—only for it to be taken away again by Kalim’s overwhelming presence. And the worst part? He wasn’t even chosen to be there. Kalim literally bought his way into NRC just to be with Jamil. I don’t think people fully realize how hopeless that must have made an already frustrated teenager feel. He had no choice but to start over, once again masking himself under Kalim’s shadow.
I won’t go into the nuances of his initial actions leading up to the overblot, but they clearly show his frustrations, especially when he hypnotized Kalim to do his own work as a housewarden.
And then, right after all the resentment and fight, we get Kalim crying over his friend. Of course, as you said, Kalim’s willingness to change is a big reason why the fandom takes his side. It makes sense— he genuinely wants to be a good friend. But the frustrating part is that people still reduce Jamil to just "the scheming servant" while ignoring everything else we see in the chapter. Kalim’s willingness to change is important, but it doesn’t undo the years of pressure, resentment, and lack of autonomy Jamil has endured. At the end of the day, Kalim can change, but Jamil? He’s still bound by the same expectations, the same role, the same system.
If you don’t look deeper into each chapter, it’s easy to sum up an overblot with a simple explanation: "Riddle is acting like his mom," "Leona is throwing a tantrum because he’s not king," and so on. I think we are often drawn more to the breaking point than to the underlying cause of it. But in Jamil’s case, the most obvious problem is also the one people tend to overlook: Jamil was — and, by definition, still is —Kalim’s servant. More than that, all Vipers still are.
The reason Jamil seems "fine" is because, unlike the others, he can’t change the very thing that made him feel this way in the first place. To be clear, I’m not downplaying any of the other boys' trauma—I’m speaking from a storytelling and borderline objective perspective. Most of the other characters could change their circumstances if they wanted to (again, i'm not saying it is easy or simple). Many of them have the resources and/or support networks to do so. But Jamil doesn’t. Even after his overblot, while Kalim gets to grow and change, Jamil is still stuck playing the same role. He may have a little more space to breathe, but his reality remains the same—his life is still controlled by the Al-Asim family.
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#this one came out of my chest i think#i love talking about the characters!!!#also I WENT ON A RAMPAGE WITH THIS DRAWING#dont worry hon i protect you#tho i feel i never do jamil justice#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK AND ITS OKAY!!!#twst chapter 4#twisted wonderland#ask.txt#jamil viper#scarabia
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𝐀𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞
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*Pics not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.
• Requested by @hart-kinsella: Basically, the fan fic could be set at one of Jay's Intelligence colleagues' wedding and mc is one of the bride's closest friends; the bride wants to set her up with one hot cop (could also be one who works on patrol). It could either be that the 'chosen' guy is not Jay, but then mc and Jay naturally connect at the reception (maybe through her wanting to avoid the guy she's set up with) or Jay being the 'set up' guy from minute 1 and them just meeting there (with the usual embaressement that comes from friends insisting you should get together) and hitting it off immediately.
• Warnings: curse words/strong language, mention of alcohol consumption, lots of tension and physical contact, heavy making out, suggestive at the end.
• Word count: 8.8k
• A/N: PLEASE READ ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+ DUE TO SUGGESTIVE THEMES. The way I was so excited about this fic but I reread it and now I hate it why am I like this 😭 Let me know in the comments what do you think about this one, I love you all ❤️
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you said to Kim as you watched her sip the champagne from her glass, her huge ring shining against the lights of the room.
She was radiant, a smile plastered on her lips as wide as you had ever seen her in all the time you were friends. She was happy and your heart exploded with joy seeing her finally have her happy ending with Adam, especially after everything they’ve been through.
She looked beautiful in her white wedding dress and you couldn’t hide the tears of happiness you shed when you saw her walk down the aisle, a radiant smile on her lips. Adam looked at her with eyes so bright and full of love it made you wonder if there’d ever be someone who’d look at you like that, as if you were the only person who mattered, as if without you he couldn’t even breathe.
“Of course it’s a good idea! There’s nothing better than a blind date with a hot cop,” she finished sipping her champagne and set it down on the tray as a waiter walked by, thanking him immediately after. “You don’t trust me? Have I ever let you down on the men front?”
You didn’t respond, just looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Okay there might’ve been some unfortunate meetings but this won’t be the case. Please, please, please. I swear he’s a really cute and good guy!” She begged, putting on her cute puppy face that not even the devil could resist.
Little bitch.
You sighed and rolled your eyes and that was enough to make her clap her hands with joy. “Only because it’s your day.”
“You won’t regret it, I promise.”
The fact was you were already regretting it.
You had never been very good at blind dates, you hated not knowing who you were going to talk to and spend the evening with, you wanted to be able to decide first if you liked that person. What if you didn’t like him, or if he didn’t like you? It would’ve been very awkward.
Actually, it was. It was definitely awkward.
Kim had pointed out from afar a man who was talking to Adam—ignoring how the latter was watching Kim without ever taking his eyes off her even while talking to other people—and you took your time to observe him.
He was a tall man, from behind you noticed his ash blonde hair and a statuesque body that was embraced by a tuxedo. Without even saying anything, Kim grabbed your hand and dragged you towards them, ignoring your signs of protest.
You were so nervous and you hated it.
And it certainly didn’t help that Kim had made it her mission to pair you up with someone, since you were the only single girl in your group of friends.
But you were happy, you weren’t lonely, you were fine being alone and that was important, you didn’t need a man by your side to determine your happiness. You defined your own happiness.
“Hi babe,” Kim greeted her husband, who smiled before sliding his arm around her hips and kissing her. The two of them were so in love it was almost disgusting. “Sorry I was rude. Caleb, I wanted you to meet my friend.”
Your cheeks flushed red as you felt the man’s gaze on you. “Oh so you’re the famous Y/n right? I’ve heard so much about you.”
God please have mercy.
“I hope only good things,” you replied with a smile and offered him your hand, which he immediately shook. The way his eyes moved up and down your body made your skin crawl, and the smirk he had plastered across his lips as he looked at you didn’t suggest anything good.
You pulled your hand away, forcing a smile as he started to speak, and cursed both Kim and Adam when you saw them sneak away, both giggling as they left you alone with that guy.
As they say, a woman’s sixth sense is like a gift, it never fails.
And it didn’t even take half an hour of talking to Caleb to realize he was self-centered and you’d never see him again. He talked your ear off as if you’d known each other your whole life, focusing mostly on him, his work, the gym, his exploits. You nodded every now and then, just to give him the impression you were listening when in reality your mind had dissociated after the first ten minutes of conversation.
And by conversation you obviously meant monologue.
He didn’t ask you anything, and by nothing you really meant nothing, not how old you were, your job, your hobbies, in short the simple questions one asks when one is getting to know another.
You looked around bored, cursing Kim and yourself with every fiber of your being for letting yourself being dragged—for the million time— in a situation you didn’t want to be in.
You decided you’d never take a single piece of her advice about men ever again.
“Once, when I was still on patrol, there was a robbery a few blocks away. I was alone and when I got there the thief was already running. I’ll make this short but even the commander congratulated me…”
You were trying really hard to listen to him but every time you tried to pay attention, he was still talking about himself. It was hard to follow his conversation/monologue without being fascinated by some random spot in the room like the chandelier.
Caleb was a beautiful man, that was objective. He was tall, broad-shouldered, he had a sculpted physique, defined jaw, eyes as blue as the sky. But beauty wasn’t everything, not when his character was similar to a mollusk.
“Hey baby, here you are, I’ve been looking for you for a while,” a male voice reached your ears from behind and you almost had a heart attack when you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders. You snapped your head towards the man, finding yourself in front of one of the most beautiful man you’d ever see.
Forget Caleb, who the hell was this man?
You froze, having no idea what to say or do. Who the hell was he? What did he want?
“Sorry it took so long but the line for the bathroom was endless,” the stranger continued and you tried with every fiber of your being to remain impassive. Your body was tense as a violin string as you tried to subtly move away from his grasp.
Breathtaking or not, you didn’t know him.
“Baby? You have a boyfriend? Kim told me you were single,” Caleb exclaimed almost indignantly, alternating his gaze between you and the stranger. You thanked God he was a second-rate cop and had the detective skills of a hamster or he would’ve seen from a mile away this was the first time you’d seen that man around you.
“Oh, well this is pretty new not many people know about us, but we’ve been seeing each other for a while. Thanks for keeping my girlfriend company—”
“Caleb.”
“Carl. Thanks,” the stranger held out a hand and Caleb looked at it before looking back at you and walking away without a word, a furious expression on his face.
You didn’t even bother following him because damn, you were so relieved you got him out of the way.
The stranger’s gaze was on you even though he had removed his arm from around you.
“Well, I guess you need to work on your acting skills but it went well right?”
You widened your eyes, still confused about what the hell was going on. “Who are you?”
“Oh you’re welcome, I didn’t just save you from the most boring date of your life,” he smirked.
You continued to look at him, confused, embarrassed and unable to form a coherent sentence. Who the hell was this man? And why was he so breathtakingly handsome? And why did he just pretend to be your boyfriend?
He held out a hand towards you, a smirk plastered across his lips, acting like he hadn’t just pretended to be in a relationship with a stranger. “I’m Jay Halstead. You must be Y/n right? It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Jay? Why does this sound familiar?
You widened your eyes, not even trying to hide your expression of fear and shock. “How do you know my name?” You asked, taking a step back, ready to run away.
His gaze softened, understanding he must’ve really looked like a stalker. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, I work with Kim in Intelligence. She mentioned you a couple of times and I assumed it was you since you’re the only one of her friends I’ve never met.”
Then you realized why his name was familiar to you. Kim—when talking about her job—had sometimes mentioned a ‘Jay’ and it was nice to finally be able to associate the face with that name, especially if the face was that one.
God he’s so hot.
“Listen,” he continued, raising his hands in surrender, a drink in the left one, “I’m not a stalker I swear—I came off in the wrong way. I just saw you from afar while you were talking to Carl, and you seemed to be in trouble so I thought I’d help. Let’s start over, shall we?”
You tried not to chuckle at the way he got Caleb’s name wrong and stared at him for a moment. He maintained eye contact, his irises locked on yours with no sign of changing direction. You had only just noticed how green his eyes were and you didn’t know why, but something inside you made you no longer want to run away.
You nodded and he smiled triumphantly and, God, he had one of the most beautiful smiles you had ever seen. He held out a hand to you again. “I’m Jay, nice to meet you.”
You tried to suppress a smile of your own and you clasped his hand. “It’s Y/n, the pleasure is mine.”
That handshake sent a spark up your entire arm, not in the cliché kind of way, but in the way that made you feel your body suddenly enveloped in a wave of heat.
He didn’t let go of your hand right away, but you didn’t care. You liked it, you liked the way his grip was strong, firm, confident, but his touch soft at the same time. You liked how his palm felt rough against yours but his skin was warm, a stark contrast to yours.
His thumb skimmed against the back of your hand before he pulled it away, bringing the glass to his lips with his other hand and taking a sip of his drink. All without him ever breaking eye contact with you.
This single innocent gesture left you breathless.
Did I mention he’s so damn hot and sexy?
He looked at you with curiosity, as if he had already decided that from now on his attention would be solely on you.
“This is the part where I have to thank you for saving me from an embarrassing date, isn’t it?”
His eyes flickered for a second on your lips as you spoke and he subtly took a deep breath, taking another sip of his drink. You pretended it didn’t affect you in the slightest even though your stomach had just flipped.
“You not filing a complaint against me is a great thank you,” Jay replied making you laugh, “and besides, I should be the one thanking Kim.”
You tilted your head slightly to the side, looking at him with a questioning expression. “Kim? Why?”
“For setting you up with the wrong guy, might’ve missed my shot otherwise.”
You burst out laughing again and rolled your eyes. “C’mon Jay, is that the best you can do?”
“Ouch,” he put his hand to his chest as if he was in pain. “That really hurt, I may be rusty but I’m not that bad c’mon.”
You smirked. “You’ll survive officer.”
“Nuh, uh. It’s detective, please.”
“My bad, I apologize Detective,” it was your turn to raise your hands in surrender. “But seriously, thank you for saving me from whatever that was.”
He smiled softly at you. “It was a pleasure. You were a couple seconds away from pulling the fire alarm to escape, I couldn’t just stay there and do nothing.”
“Oh, so you make a habit of being a knight and saving damsels in distress?”
“Nah, only the ones that are worth saving,” he replied, and you laughed, feeling that anxious and nervous feeling fade away as you continued to converse—for real this time—with Jay.
“I could’ve gotten away with it, you know,” you crossed your arms and Jay’s eyes flickered, for a millisecond, to your chest, specifically the neckline of your dress.
“Please,” he raised an eyebrow, “if he had kept talking any longer you would’ve ripped your hair out.”
“Stop you’re so dramatic, that’s not true at all,” you rolled your eyes—even though it was the truest thing you had ever heard—making him chuckle. “What’s your poison?” You nodded to his drink as he brought it to his lips and took a sip.
A teasing smile caressed his lips and then it was your turn flicking your gaze to his mouth. You had tried to resist but damn it was so hard. “Bourbon, neat. Effective right?”
You raised an eyebrow, mirroring his playful energy. “Is efficient a new fancy way of saying banal and predictable?”
He let out a soft laugh, the sound so low and warm it made your insides squirm. “Probably,” he countered, “but it’s still a classic.” He slightly tilted his head to the side as his green eyes roamed along your body, lingering for a moment on your dress before meeting your gaze again. You felt every inch of your skin catch fire under his eyes and you couldn’t help but compare Jay’s gaze to Caleb’s, which only made your skin crawl instead. “But it’s not for you. I think you’re more of a champagne kind of woman.”
At that same moment, by pure coincidence, a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses passed not far from you. Jay stopped him and took it, before offering it to you. You blushed, before taking it, your fingers brushing against him. “Thank you.”
You lifted your glass towards him, a quiet smile playing on your lips. “To Kim and Adam,” you said.
“To Kim and Adam,” he repeated voice low and smooth. He raised his glass to meet you, the soft clink echoing between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke—his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. It was just a toast, simple and harmless, but the way he was looking at you? Nothing about it felt simple.
“So, you’re a champagne type of woman,” he smirked.
“Guilty,” you shrugged your shoulders. “But what can I say? I like little sparkle in my life.”
You took another sip of champagne and that time it was your gaze that roamed along his body, perfectly wrapped in the tux he was wearing—over the broad lines of his shoulders, the way his dress shirt stretched just right across his chest.
Man, he looked so good it had to be illegal.
When your eyes returned to his you noticed the way he clenched his jaw and the slightest twitch of his lips as he looked at you, as if he knew exactly what you were doing but didn’t mind a bit.
His fingers flexed around his glass and a sexy smirk appeared on his lips, his eyes shining like the moon in the night. He slightly tilted his head to the side, his index finger brushing along the rim of his glass in a slow, absent-minded motion—like he was thinking about something he probably shouldn’t say out loud. “A little spark huh? And here I thought I was bringing the spark.”
You giggled. Yep, actually giggled. “Oh yeah? So that’s what you’re doing?”
“If you’re asking me then I’m not doing a good job,” he retorted, with a fake sad expression acting like he just wiped a tear, “you’re hurting me so much tonight.”
“Oh, you poor thing, I’d hate to bruise that big ego of yours.” You placed a hand on his bicep and caressed it in mock comfort and, fuck, you had to use every fiber of your body to not squeeze and feel up his muscles.
He tensed under your touch, his breath hitching in his throat feeling of your hand on him.
His lips curved into a slow, lazy smile—the kind that sent a shiver down your spine. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he drew, his voice dropping just a notch lower. “I can take a hit. Besides…” His gaze swept over you again, slower this time—unapologetic. “Something tells me it’s worth it.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to stop the smile threatening to break free, but to no avail. He was too good at this—too smooth, too charming, but damn if it wasn’t working.
“Careful Detective Halstead someone might think you’re flirting with me,” you smirked, taking another sip of your champagne.
He shortened the distance between you, subtly and not too noticeably, but you felt his presence, his scent enveloping you fully, more than it had done so far. “Luckily I don’t care about anyone but the person I’m talking to right now,” he replied, “and they’d be right because that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
The air between you grew heavier—not uncomfortable but charged with something unspoken. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the noise of the wedding reception fading into a distant hum. You should’ve looked away, said something to break the tension, but you didn’t want to.
You’ve never felt anything like this, being so damn attracted to a man you were dying to kiss him, to touch him.
“So confident,” you murmured. You tried to keep your eyes on his, but you couldn’t, not when his mouth was not too far from yours. “And here I thought you were just being nice.”
He chuckled, his voice low and deep. “Trust me sweetheart, there’s nothing nice about what I’m thinking right now.”
You took another sip, hoping to steady the warmth curling low in your stomach. Why were your legs suddenly turning to jelly?
“So…” you started, arching a brow in an attempt to shift the focus back on him, “do you flirt like this with every girl you save, or am I just special?”
Jay’s smile widened and he took a slow sip of his bourbon before answering. “You tell me,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “Do you feel special?”
Damn him.
You laughed softly, shaking your head and taking a deep breath at the same time. “You’re trouble, Halstead.”
He didn’t deny it. “And yet, you’re still talking to me,” he pointed out, eyes gleaming with mischief. “What does that say about you?”
“That I make questionable decisions?”
Jay let out another quiet laugh, but this one felt different—lower, warmer. “Or maybe,” he murmured, leaning in a bit towards you, “you’re exactly where you want to be.”
And the truth? You weren’t sure you could argue with that because he was right, you were where you wanted to be.
You finished the rest of your glass in a single sip because there were two possibilities, this or jump on him and you couldn’t already do that considering you had just met him.
He was throwing you off so much it left you speechless and it wasn’t like you. You didn’t know if you loved it or hated it.
He chuckled as he continued to look at you, as if he had just read your mind.
Your guardian angel, Kim—who you’d thank for the rest of your life from that moment on—appeared at that exact moment, interrupting the game of glances between you and Jay that was becoming too intense for your own good.
“Jay! Y/n? Where’s Caleb?” She asked, visibly excited and smiling.
“I have no idea, courtesy of my fake boyfriend here,” you nodded at Jay who chuckled sexily.
How could laughter be so sexy?
“We need to talk about your questionable taste in men Kim, what kind of rat did you want her to be paired with?” He joked one hand shoved into his pants pocket while the other held his almost empty glass.
“Hey, don’t talk to my wife like that, I’d say she made a good choice in men,” Adam suddenly intervened, wrapping his arm around Kim’s hips and pressing a kiss to her temple. The sight warmed your heart, making you smile like an idiot.
“So, you’ve already introduced yourselves,” Kim continued, alternating her gaze between you and Jay but with a sinister smirk on her lips.
You and Jay exchanged a quick knowing look. “Yeah, he saved me from the mess that was Caleb. And by the way, I’m never listening to you ever again Kim, don’t do that to me again.”
“You two look so good together,” Kim blurted out and giggled, visibly tipsy. “Don’t you think they look hot together honey?”
“Okay that’s enough, let’s get back to dancing,” Adam chimed in again, struggling to contain his laughter, before dragging his wife away.
Before she left though Kim came back to you and whispered, “I was watching you two from afar there’s so much sexual tension between you two that even I got turned on.”
Your cheeks turned on fire but before you could respond Adam finally dragged her away, leaving you alone with Jay again.
He let out a light laugh, and you turned your head towards him. “Do I want to ask you what she said?”
You shook your head, taking another sip of champagne as you still heard her words echoing in your head. “Nope.”
He looked at you for a moment, his eyebrow raised. “Kim really does have questionable matching skills, I take it this isn’t the first time with Carl,” he said, changing the subject.
“You have no idea,” you rolled your eyes, “my brain can’t comprehend how she managed to match me with these men and not one of them was normal.”
“Well, have you thought that maybe they weren’t the problem?”
You gasped in fake shock and elbowed him in the side, and he pretended to be in excruciating pain, making you laugh at the show he was putting on. “I could arrest you for assault on a police officer you know that right? You’d look really pretty in a prison uniform.”
“You think I’ll look cute in handcuffs too?”
What the fuck?! Where the hell did that come from?
Jay, who was taking his last sip of bourbon, chocked on it and started coughing after the liquor went down the wrong way and, although you were embarrassed by the stupidity of that statement, the scene was pretty hilarious.
“You good? Should I call a doctor? What happened?” You teased him, trying to hold back your laughter but failing miserably.
“You know damn well what happened,” he retorted with mock annoyance even as the smile on his lips belatedly came. “And pretty wouldn’t even come close to how good you’d look in handcuffs if you really wanted an answer, but that’s something we’ll talk about later.”
You blushed, once again, from head to toe and hated yourself for this reaction and how easily he could see it. “Later? Who says there’s gonna be a ‘later’?”
He smirked down at you, and it was so sexy it made your head spin. “Trust me there will be.”
“You’re so cocky detective.”
Jay leaned in just a fraction, enough that the faint scent of his cologne wrapped around you—something warm and woodsy, with a hint of spice. “Only when I’m sure about something,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less intense.
His words hung in the air, thick and heavy, and you felt heat creep up the back of your neck. You could've played it cool, thrown back a quip, but the way he was looking at you made your pulse skip in a way that was impossible to ignore.
His gaze dropped to your lips again—just for a second—but it was enough to send a fresh wave of heat curling through your body.
“C’mon,” he said suddenly, holding out a hand towards you. “You owe me a dance.”
You lifted a brow. “Do I?”
Jay shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I did save you from Carl. Seems only fair.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile that broke free as you slipped your hand into his. “Alright, Detective,” you quipped, “but only because you asked so nicely.”
His fingers curled around yours—firm, warm, just the right amount of possessive. And as he led you toward the dance floor, you realized something else: you didn’t want to let go.
The music shifted as you reached the edge of the dance floor—something slower, smoother, the kind of song that practically begged for two people to be just a little too close.
Exactly what you wanted.
Jay didn’t hesitate. His hand slid easily to your waist, fingers splayed warm and wide on the small of your back as he pulled you against him, close enough to send all your senses into a tizzy.
It had been hard until now, but this? Being so close to him that you could even count his eyelashes? It was devastating.
You couldn’t even recognize yourself, you’d never found yourself craving a man’s touch so badly, like you needed it to breathe, and in that moment you realized you’d only met the wrong people because, fuck, you were missing out.
“You good with this?” he murmured in your ear, his voice just for you. Low. Intimate. And there was something in the way he asked—like he cared, but also like he already knew your answer.
You nodded, hoping he didn’t feel the way your heart was beating against his chest. Your bodies began to sway in time to the slow music, like you’d done it a million times, like he wasn’t a stranger to you and you a stranger to him.
You didn’t know anything about the man, and he didn’t know anything about you, but you were so drawn to each other it almost drove you crazy.
As you engaged in small talk, you tried not to focus on how close he was—on how his thumb brushed against your back every time he shifted—but it was impossible. Especially when every slight movement seemed to make the space between you shrink.
He asked about you, what do you do for a job or in your free time, how old were you, how long have you known Kim, you asked about him and his life, and it was crazy how, even though you had known each other for literally a short time, you both felt comfortable talking to each other, joking and laughing when you both made terrible jokes.
“You’re really giving me a hard time,” he said, his fingers flexing on your hip.
You turned your head to meet his gaze, realizing how he was already looking at you. There wasn’t any trace of humor left, his eyes were staring at you, but they weren’t focused on yours exactly, they traveled along your face as if he was analyzing you, memorizing every feature and detail.
“Why?” You asked and his eyes flickered on your lips. He continued to caress your hip unconsciously, your bodies pressed against each other and with every slight movement you could feel the heat between you intensifying.
“Because I’m trying so hard to behave and be a gentleman but it’s getting really hard,” he answered softly, his voice raspy, his breath an inch from your lips. “And I hate not being in control.”
You stopped breathing for a second and a shiver ran down your spine. It would’ve been so easy to break that distance, it would’ve only taken a couple of inches and his mouth would’ve been on yours to finally satisfy that visceral attraction that was pulling you towards each other.
And you most likely would’ve let him do it if it hadn’t been for Kim who, with her usual perfect timing, had grabbed your arm, totally drunk and with a beaming smile.
“C’mon Y/n, we have to dance together!” she exclaimed loudly, jumping up and down with an enthusiasm you had never seen in her as she continued to pull on your arm without even leaving you room to protest.
Jay’s arm was still around your hip, though his grip wasn’t as firm as it had been before, and you hated to admit it, but you already missed that touch.
It seemed mutual because you felt him tense for a moment, his fingers reluctant to release their grip on you, as if he also hated the idea of letting you go. But eventually he did, slowly, the heat of his hand still burning through your dress and against your skin even after you’d pulled away.
“Don’t go too far,” he whispered in your ear, quiet enough to make it seem like a secret between the two of you.
And as Kim dragged you through the crowd to the beat of a more upbeat song, you turned to him and gave him one last look. Jay was still there, standing at the edge of the dance floor, his hands stuffed in his pockets, that intense gaze still fixed on you. He winked at you before you disappeared into the crowd and you almost tripped on your own feet.
Oh my fucking god.
Jay leaned against a wall, his hands still in his pockets, one foot placed in front of the other. In other moments he wouldn’t have waited to take another drink, but that night he wanted to be as sober as possible.
His gaze was fixed on the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, but not on everyone, his eyes scanned the people only for one person in particular. He cursed those disco strobe lights because, in those dim lights, it was not easy to find you.
But when he finally did, his attention was focused only and solely on you, not on the music, not on the world around him.
You were laughing now, spinning with Kim on the dance floor, some strands of your hair coming out of your hairstyle as you moved to the music. He should’ve backed away. Hell, he’d spent years perfecting that skill, knowing when to pull back, where to avoid getting too close, perceive when there was danger. But with you? It wasn’t that easy.
It hadn’t been from the second he laid eyes on you, when he saw you enter the wedding venue with some of your friends.
He didn’t know what kind of witchcraft you had performed on him but he seemed to not be able to stop looking at you. His gaze tracked the curve of your smile and the movement of your lips as you sang along the song, the flush on your skin from the warmth of the room, and the way your dress hugged your figure just enough to make his thoughts stray somewhere they shouldn’t.
He told himself to get it together—to stop looking at you like a creepy stalker—but it was a losing battle, he seemed hypnotized.
And when you tipped your head back, laughing at something Kim said, Jay swore under his breath.
He was in trouble.
Because the truth was, it wasn’t just the way you looked—although you were one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen—it was the way you felt. Warm and soft against him when you danced, your hand fitting so easily in his. The way you leaned into his touch, like part of you wanted him closer, even when you were pretending otherwise.
It almost scared him how he found himself talking, laughing and joking so easily with a stranger he had just met.
But he wanted more of that. More of you.
And that realization hit him harder than it should’ve.
Jay exhaled slowly, willing the tension in his chest to ease. It didn’t work. Not when you turned your head as you kept dancing, scanning the room as if you were searching for something, or someone.
And when your eyes locked, his heart gave a sharp kick, one he didn’t truly expect. And the way you held his gaze? It did something to him.
Your lips curled into the faintest smile—small, almost shy—and damn if it didn’t make something twist low in his stomach. He should’ve been the one in control here, but with just one look, you had him pinned. And the worst part was that he didn’t mind.
Not even a little.
Your attention was caught again by one of your friends who pulled you towards her as you belted out the song in the background, breaking eye contact.
He tried to look away from you sometimes, focusing his attention on something else but it was as if his eyes were attracted to a magnet, you.
And maybe that was the problem.
He wasn’t supposed to feel this, wasn’t supposed to want someone he’d just met with this kind of heat and desire curling through his veins. But here he was, eyes on you, mind already running a dangerous path of wondering how you’d taste if he let himself get too close.
He was about to move—to do something, anything—but then Kim grabbed your hand again, spinning you around in a dizzy circle. Your laughter rang out, bright and carefree, while Jay just stood there against that wall.
He didn’t belong in this moment. Not really. A guy like him—weighted down by too much baggage, too many mistakes, a very dangerous job—had no business wanting you like this.
But God help him, he did.
When the song shifted to something louder and faster, you finally pulled back from Kim, breathless and glowing in a way that had no right to make his pulse pick up. Kim was already dragging Adam away, leaving you alone again, and for half a second, Jay thought this was his shot.
But then, just as quickly, you disappeared into the crowd.
And that shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. More than it had any right to.
Jay exhaled, dragging a hand through his face. He told himself to play it cool, to just let it go, but the thing was, he didn’t want to let it go. Let you go.
And if he had anything to say about it, this night wasn’t ending until he found you again.
Jay pushed himself off the wall, his pulse thudding a little harder than he wanted to admit.
He wasn’t the type to chase after someone, not like this. But that night, he couldn’t seem to help himself. His eyes scanned the room, but the crowd was thicker now, people swaying to the music, bodies pressed too close.
You weren’t on the dance floor anymore. He knew that much. And the longer it took to find you, the harder it became to shake the restless feeling gnawing at the edges of his control.
Get a grip, Halstead.
He could’ve leave you alone. Should’ve, probably. But as he moved through the party he knew nothing would sit right until he saw you again.
And then, just when he started to think he’d lost you for good, he caught a sight of you through the open door leading to the balcony.
Jay hesitated, his hand curling into a fist at his side. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, all he knew was that the moment he saw you again, his mind quieted. And maybe that was reason enough.
Without giving himself time to second-guess, he stepped outside.
You were leaning against the railing, your back to him, the cool night air brushing against your bare shoulders. He let himself take in the sight of you for just a second longer—how the city lights reflected off your skin, how you tilted your head back like you were finally catching your breath.
You were breathtaking. So fucking beautiful it hurt.
“Wasn’t sure if I’d get another chance to steal you away.”
You turned your head at the sound of his voice, and there it was again, that little smile. “Something tells me you love a good challenge Detective.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, nodding. “I feel like the reward will be worthy.”
He moved closer to you as he took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, leaving his hands there for a while as he let your scent engulf him. You then turned fully to face him and Jay didn’t miss the way your eyes roamed along his body, focusing for a moment on his chest, his arms, before looking back into his eyes.
“Oh so you really like me,” you joked, eyes still on him, slightly tilting your head but he couldn’t ignore the blush on your cheeks.
“Thought I made that pretty clear by now.”
And just like that, the tension stretched tight again, thicker this time but with the difference that nothing and no one would interrupt this time.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The distant thump of music spilled through the open door, but out here? It felt like the rest of the world had faded away.
He closed the distance between you, never taking his eyes off yours. He tried to pull away, but it was as if he physically couldn’t, as if he needed it.
“And here I thought you’d even left the party.”
“You’re hurting me so much tonight, I’m not that bad at hitting on you c’mon.”
You giggled and bit your bottom lip. He found himself suppressing a groan because, damn, he had never wanted anything so badly as he wanted to bite your lip.
“Well,” you batted your lashes, “you’re definitely making it hard for me to leave now,” your eyes flicked to his lips before returning to his and he told himself to calm down but, God help him, if you did that again he’d lose every ounce of control he had left.
“I guess you found a good reason to stay then,” his tongue flicked across his bottom lip and he couldn’t miss the way your gaze landed on his lips, again. The light was dim, not very bright, but he could see so clearly how dilated your pupils were and it drove him crazy, knowing you felt the same.
“Is that so?” You murmured. He leaned closer to you and placed his hands on the railing at either side of you, trapping you in his arms but not touching you. Your breathing quickened at the closeness, your lips parted slightly as if you needed air, and that was enough to make his pulse quicken and the heat in his blood spike.
“You’re here, aren’t you?” he taunted
You let out a quiet laugh, warm and soft, and something about the sound made his fingers itch to touch you again, so much so that he tightened his fingers around the cold metal of the railing.
You took his tie—which had been dangling between you—into your hands, and Jay seriously thought he was going to collapse at your feet at any moment. You hadn’t done anything too dramatic, but he felt like he was going to have an aneurysm. Just seeing your fingers caress the fabric of your tie, how you played with it while you continued to look at him, drove him crazy.
“I’m exactly where I want to be,” you repeated under your breath the words he had said a few hours earlier. His hands were gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles were completely white from trying to vent the frustration he felt.
His fingers inched closer and closer to you, until the sides of his thumbs were brushing against your dress. God, how much he wanted to grab you, hold you and touch you, every inch of your body until the ground disappeared beneath you.
You didn’t pull away, if anything, you shifted closer, your warmth seeping into his skin.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked when he remained silent, staring at you while you continued to play with his tie.
“I think,” he murmured, his thumb sweeping slow circles against your pelvis’ side, “you’re gonna be a problem for me.”
The tension cracked, sharp and electric, and neither of you moved, like you were both waiting to see who’d break first.
“Maybe I want to be,” you admitted quietly.
That was all he needed.
Jay didn’t overthink it, he just moved, closing the last bit of space between you. His hand slid to your waist and made you stand upright, as he tilted his head down, giving you plenty of time to pull back.
But you didn’t.
You stayed right there, your breath warm against his skin as your fingers curled into the front of his shirt.
“You’re making this impossible,” he said, his voice rougher now, low enough that only you could hear. His fingers flexed against your waist, dragging you closer without meaning to. Or maybe he did. He wasn’t sure anymore. “I’m trying so hard to be good, but—fuck.”
“But what?” you interrupted, your tone softer, breathier than before. His eyes snapped to yours, and the challenge in your gaze nearly broke him. “What happens if you stop trying?”
His breath hitched. Jesus Christ.
Jay let out a low, bitter laugh, because you weren’t making this any easier. And the worst part? You knew it. You knew exactly what you were doing to him.
“Do you really want me to answer that?” he asked, as his fingers trailed up, just slightly, brushing the curve of your ribs. It wasn’t a question. Not really.
Your lips parted, and for a second—just a second—he thought maybe you’d call his bluff. But instead, you tilted your head, eyes fixed on his mouth like you were imagining the same damn thing he was.
“I really, really do,” you murmured. And that was it. That was the crack in the dam.
His other hand came up before he could stop himself, fingers grazing along your jaw, tilting your face toward his as his nose brushed against yours. “You have no idea how much I want you right now,” he admitted, no more games, no more teasing. Just raw, unfiltered truth. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “I don’t even know you but you’re driving me crazy. You have to stop me.”
You didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Instead, your lips curled into the faintest smile, bold, knowing, and it only fueled the fire already burning through his veins.
“The thing is, I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, leaning in just enough for your breath to brush against his lips, “I don’t want you to be good or patient.”
The words punched through his last shred of restraint like they were designed to. And for a beat, all he could do was look at you—at the flush on your skin, the way your chest rose and fell a little too fast.
“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” he warned, though it came out rougher than he intended, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw, slower than necessary.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” you shot back, quiet but sure—so sure—and, fuck, he was done for.
He wanted to win that little silent race, to see you snap but the truth was that he had lost from the start, he had no chance of winning.
So, when he finally kissed you, it wasn’t an attempt.
It was slow, deliberate, like he wanted to memorize the way you tasted, in case it was the last time. The faintest hint of champagne lingered on your lips, but beneath it was something that made his heart slam harder against his ribs.
You kissed him back like you wanted this just as much as he did, your hands sliding up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, deeper, making his jacket fall on the floor.
And Jay? He let himself fall into it. Into you.
Jay’s lips moved against yours, slow and thorough, but nothing about the way he touched you felt careful. His hands slid along your waist, fingers pressing into the curve of your hip, squeezing you like he was memorizing the shape of you. Every brush of his skin against yours sent sparks racing through your body, and the heat pooling low in your stomach only grew stronger with each passing second.
His palms flattened against your lower back, pulling you closer until there wasn’t a single inch of space left between your bodies, until you could feel how much he really wanted you. He was warm, solid—everywhere—and the way he held you made your breath hitch.
You tugged lightly on the back of his neck. The muscles beneath your fingers were tense, and a shudder ran through him as your nails scraped gently against his skin. His breath hitched in response, and something about knowing you could unravel him like this made the heat in your blood burn hotter.
“You’re killing me,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice rough and frayed at the edges. His lips brushed over yours again, lingering like he was savoring the taste of you. But his hands, God, his hands, were anything but patient.
His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path up your spine, skimming beneath the hem of your dress as he went. The warmth of his touch against your bare skin felt a sharp, delicious shiver curling through you, and when his hand settled at the small of your back again, his grip tightened, so possessive like he wanted to keep you exactly where you were.
And you wanted to stay there.
You wanted more.
Your body arched instinctively into his, and Jay swore softly under his breath, his hold on you turning rougher, like he was losing the battle to keep himself in check. His fingers flexed at your hip, sliding lower, almost touching your ass before skimming back up, as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you most.
And when your hand drifted from his neck to the front of his shirt, fingers curling into the soft fabric, you felt the sharp rise and fall of his chest beneath your palm. His heart was racing and the realization felt another jolt of heat spiraling through you.
“Jay,” you breathed against his mouth, in such an intense and desperate tone, as if you needed him and his distance hurt you, and his response was immediate. His lips crashed back onto yours with a hunger that stole your breath, and the slow, careful rhythm shattered beneath the weight of all that tension.
He kissed you harder now, deeper. His tongue swept along your lower lip, and when you opened up for him, he groaned softly, a low, desperate sound that made your knees go weak.
His hand slid higher, dragging up your side, fingers brushing the sensitive skin beneath your ribs. He didn’t stop there. He traced the outline of your body desperately, knuckles grazing the side of your breast before his palm flattened against your ribcage, holding you firmly against him.
“Is this okay?” He whispered against your lips.
“Yes, god, yes please Jay,” you whispered back and damn, if your breathy voice hadn’t completely destroyed him. He loved seeing you as desperate for him as he was for you.
He kissed you again. “You’re driving me insane,” he murmured against your lips, and there was no teasing left in his voice. Just raw need. “I can’t—If you want me to stop say it because I fucking can’t.”
The response to those words of his was the way you grabbed his face and crashed your lips onto his again. “I don't want you to stop.”
Whatever fragile restraint he’d been clinging to snapped completely.
Jay’s hands tightened on your waist as he backed you against the wall, pressing you there like he needed to feel every inch of you against him.
His lips left yours just long enough to trail down your jaw, his breath warm as it ghosted over your skin. He didn’t stop when he reached your neck. Instead, he tilted your head gently to the side, giving himself more access as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your throat and making you sigh in pleasure.
And when his teeth graced that sensitive spot just below your ear, you couldn’t hold back the soft sound that escaped your lips.
Jay froze at the sound—just for a second to control himself before he’d come in his pants. He groaned low in his throat, his mouth returning to yours in a kiss that was rougher now, messier, hungrier. Like hearing you fall apart pushed him over the edge.
One arm was around your waist as he held you so tightly it was almost impossible to move, while the other hand slid down, fingers spreading wide across your thigh. His thumb brushed slow circles against the sensitive skin there, inching higher with every pass. “Tell me to stop, and I will, okay?” he repeated.
But the way he touched you, the way his mouth lingered on yours, made it painfully clear he didn’t want to stop.
And neither did you.
“If you stop now, I might actually lose my mind.”
He chuckled before kissing you again as you pulled him closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss even further. Your hands cupped his face, his beard tickling your palms as he took your breath away completely.
He slid his hand up your thigh again, taking advantage of the slit of your dress to touch your skin, to squeeze it, to feel it, to press his fingers so deeply into it until they left their mark. He grabbed your leg and wrapped it around his waist, making his pelvis grind with yours and making you both moan into the kiss.
His lips trailed back down to your neck, licking and sucking every inch of skin he had access to. “I want you so fucking bad.” His breath was hot against your skin, and when he spoke again, his voice was nothing but a rough, desperate whisper.
“Oh my fucking god Jay,” you gasped, trying to keep your voice low as his hand slid on your ass, squeezing it until you almost moaned again. “I want you so much too… Please…”
His lips found yours again, a desperate, greedy kiss that only deepened the ache between you two. There was no hesitation, no slowing down. Every touch, every movement, felt like a need that couldn’t be contained. You could feel the heat rising between you, consuming both of you in a way that made everything else fade.
His hard dick pressed into you, and the pressure made your breath hitch, another moan escaping as you started to grind into him again. His mouth left yours only long enough to whisper your name, low, rough, like a command.
“God, I need to feel you,” he muttered against your skin, like he was about to break. His teeth grazed your ear before his lips closed around the sensitive spot just below it, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped again. It only turned him on even more, his hands moving and exploring every inch of you, as though he couldn’t get enough.
Your fingers dug into his shoulders, his back, his chest, pulling him even closer, matching the urgency of his movements. You wanted to rip that shirt off of him, you wanted to feel his skin under your fingers, touch him everywhere.
His lips trailed down to the curve of your shoulder, sucking gently as the strap of your dress slid down. The sensation made you pulse race beyond imagination, and you found yourself tugging at his shirt, eager to feel more of him.
“Jay,” you breathed again, voice trembling, and you pulled his face back to yours, crashing your lips together with the kind of hunger that mirrored his own. The kiss was messy, full of heat and need, and you lost yourself in it. You bit his lower lip, sucking it and making him groan. And, fucking hell, the sound was so sexy you felt it directly in your lower regions.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck Y/n,” he muttered desperately. His fingers brushing over the lace of your underwear before slipping inside, feeling how wet you were. The contact was electric, and the sharp Moab you let out made his almost like in his pants. “Is this okay?” he murmured against your lips.
“Yes, shit… Oh… Oh god Jay you feel so good please don’t stop,” you moaned, your body moving on instinct, a desperate need for more, and the words only seemed to unravel him further.
There was no turning back now, and for once in your life, it felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.
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