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#did i cheat in the last one? yes. please accept whatever this was because this ep gave me nothing
justrainandcoffee · 6 months
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Against all odds (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 1.
(Crossover Peaky Blinders - Hunger Games)
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Series masterlist - Alfie x Rose masterlist
Summary: Six years ago, Alfie won his games and the ghosts of those years still haunts him. But he has not choice but go to the Capitol, once again, because that's his role as mentor. No one of those kids who went with him to the Capitol survived and probably this year it'll be the same. Fuck the Capitol and its citizens. They're all the same. The thing is... Not all of them are the same.
Series warnings: Mentions of sex (consent and non-con). Murders. Blood. PTSD. Cheating. Prostitution. || This is set in Panem universe. Topics as minors being sexual corrupted are also mentioned because it's CANON.
Words: 3.1k
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Six years earlier.
District 8.
Rose woke up sighing. Last week she celebrated her 18th birthday. Already an adult and yet, once last time she had to prepare herself for the reaping day.
The last six years of her life were tortuous. Year after year, praying for a miracle. But for now, God or whoever was up there, listened to her.
Just one more time.
Her brother Samuel was already up when she went to the kitchen. He was 13, almost 14, and that was his second time facing that not so special day.
"Hi, Sam."
"Rosie…"
She tried to prevent him from asking for things so he couldn't get any extra tesserae but also, there was a time where she fell ill for almost a month and Samuel was the one who had to ask for medicine. His name was ten times on those damn papers. Rose's name was fifty-five.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"If by okay you mean that there's a chance I can be reaped and then die then, no, I'm not okay. But I'm still alive and these toasts are good, so yes, I'm okay."
"Everything will be fine, Sam."
"Except for one boy and one girl."
Rose nodded, "except for them."
.
The escort who always visited the district during the reaping day was an extravagant man called Alistair Pullman, who had half of his hair blue and half white. Perfectly combed. He also had a ridiculous moustache and talked in a funny way.
"Welcome to The 53th Hunger Games!" Alistair exclaimed. He was wearing a white hat and a brilliant green suit.
The introduction was always the same. Same words, same tone of voice.
"…as always, ladies first."
Her heart was pounding.
Please, help me one more time.
Alistair picked up a paper and opened it "Rose… Gregg."
Gregg. Not Coldwell. Not Coldwell. She couldn't help but cried. The odds were indeed on her favour. After all those years, after all those fucking tesserae, she did it. She was never reaped.
Rose Gregg was a thin ginger girl. She was also crying but for very different reasons. She was probably walking towards her death. Rose Coldwell felt sorry for her.
"And now the gentlemen…"
The boy, luckily, wasn't her brother but a boy called Martin Wallis.
When she had the chance, she ran towards her little brother and hugged him tightly.
It was indeed a good day. At least for the Coldwells.
Far away in district 9 a boy called Alfred had been reaped.
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Now.
District 9.
"How old are you?" Alfie asked.
"19."
"You're fucking not. How old are you?"
"16."
"Fuck off. Go home, girl."
"Please, sir! My sister and I, we're hungry! Let me show you! Other men say I'm good… I can be good. Whatever you want, sir."
Alfie went to the kitchen and grabbed some canned food and bread and gave it to her. "I said fuck off."
He growled. Not infrequently women and sometimes men knocked on his door offering sexual services in exchange for food or medicine he now had. Since he won his games six years ago that was a every day routine. And not so infrequently, too, he accepted their offer. It was a good way to stop thinking. As long as the person was adult and never vaginal sex. The last thing that the world needed was more kids. Were his actions questionable? Who the fuck cared? That was Panem not a fucking monastery. You had to survive and every person chose their methods. At least he wasn't a fucking rapist.
Alfie tried not to think about it. It was only once but…
He knocked the rest of the cans out of his table. He was angry.
It was months after his victory. A woman in her 50s paid for a night with him. And he didn't have the option to say no. The lady had a fetish for young teenage boys who were like him. They forced him to take a pill so he could last longer during the sex encounter. Not only the woman was older than his own mother but also was incredibly annoying. He forced himself to close his eyes and just do his job. It was the longest and most unpleasant night of his life.
No one else wanted him. Too rude and not childish enough to them. He already had beard. People of the capitol preferred baby faces. Alfie never shaved again in his life, that kept the rest of the citizens away from him.
And that day was the beginning of a new nightmare. Once again, a new reaping day. Another year where probably he was going to lose another boy and another girl.
He watched the ceremony from the distance. Both girl and boy were 15 years old. The boy named Philip had only one hand.
Alfie knew it from the very beginning, Philip had his days numbered. Later he could study the girl. In the distance he heard the train already waiting for them.
.
The Capitol. Wealthy, big, colourful… full of hypocrisy and heartless bastards. Full of people cheering for the tributes and waiting for them to be slaughtered by other kids. He despised that place. Their escort, Alissa, was speaking but Alfie wasn't paying attention to her.
The training centre was full of people. From servants to guards. Alfie saw how other victors talked to the new tributes, introducing that place. Philip and the girl were at his side in silence listening to Alissa who was too enthusiastic about these new games.
A short woman approached them and greeted Alissa with a big smile and also the kids. She just nodded at him, probably reading his facial expression.
"I'm the new stylist," she introduced herself to him and the rest "I'm Rosebeth. And I'm glad to announce you're going to shine."
.
Another fucking year. Rose watched the different kids being selected on TV. Same old story. Happy and proud faces on those from district 1 and 2, resignation on the rest of them.
That was her first year working as stylist and they assigned district 9 to her. The previous stylist had problems with authorities and he had been incarcerated. Probably killed by now, she didn't know. And Rose learnt that it's better not to ask.
If you wanted an answer all you had to do was wait and listen. Sooner or later, people talked. Especially those wealthy bitches ready to spread gossips.
The train was already there. And Rose prepared herself. Time to be someone new.
When you're part of the Capitol, you had to act like one. You couldn't have a simple and mundane name as Rose. Because of that she merged her both names in one, Rose Elizabeth: Rosebeth. And voilà, she wasn't a simple girl anymore.
Not long time ago she was part of the districts too. She didn't born there. She hated the Capitol, the ideals, the way that those kids were treated. Rose wanted to burn that place from the ground and watch it explode in thousand of pieces. And was already working on it.
But for now she was the stupid, superficial and happy Rosebeth Evert, married to one of the richest men there. And one of the biggest piece of shit, too.
"What happened to André?" the mentor asked. She looked at him and smiled.
"André isn't here anymore. As I said, I'm the new stylist and for the next weeks we're a team. The five of us, isn't that great?"
Alissa clapped happily and Philip smiled. Alfie and the girl remained in silence.
.
While they entered the elevator to go to their floor, Alfie realised he was mad. No, in fact, he was disgusted. At least André was a man who he could talk with. The woman in front of him was nothing but the perfect example of a empty minded person who probably celebrate every death. The next few weeks were going to be a hell. He looked at her and Alissa talk like very good friends but said nothing.
Alfie knew the place but the kids not. The floor that the Capitol gave to district 9 was big, elegantly decorated and with enormous windows facing the city.
Alissa was jumping here and there expressing her gratitude for the food on the table, the soft music on the background and almost everything.
"You're Reah," said Rose looking at the girl. Contrary to Philip, Reah was shy and quiet. Not agressive at all, just timid. The girl girl nodded "I'm already thinking about your dress, Reah. But I need opinions, what do you like about your District? I'm against all traditional, sweetie. André was good, but too classic. Make them talk about you, Reah."
"Reah wants peace. Her life is about to change forever, last thing she needs is to talk about stupid costumes."
Rose looked at the mentor who just talked. She read his files. Alfred Solomons, winner of the 53th Hunger games. An impressive number of seven deaths, one of them by decapitation. Two sickles was all he needed to be a victor. But the grumpy man in front of her had nothing to do with the photo in the files she read.
"Well, Alfred, what about let the girl talk instead of speaking for her? My reputation depends on the parade and I'm not going to ruin it because you're against it."
"It's okay," Reah said shyly. "I'd like to talk about the costume."
Alfie huffed before turning around and go to his bedroom.
The fucking Capitol.
.
But Alfie had nothing to say when he finally saw the costumes. Over the years, he had seen his mentored kids dressed as corn or a wearing weath hats. That night, both Reah and Philip represented Ceres, the roman goddess of grains. Comparing the costumes to distract 1, for example, probably they weren't that extravagant. But if you looked closer you could see the little details like weath ears made of golden threads perfectly sewed to the fabric. Plus longer weath ears made of real gold outstanding over their shoulders and heads.
Alissa was fascinated and told Rose. Alfie remained in silence.
Apparently, people loved them too.
The only thing that Alfie thought was that maybe that could help him to get sponsors for them.
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At that hour the building was almost empty except for guards and some night workers. No one asked her what she was doing at those hours. She's carrying a sewing machine in her arms and some clothes on her shoulders.
Rose was trying to ignore her heartbeat. You had to start with something, right?
"To spy my husband," she said to the seller who didn't ask much questions when she bought a microphone.
She gave two fucks her husband. He was probably now celebrating with some other men in a bar thinking about the tributes and who could win.
A guard stopped her when she tried to enter the control centre. She knew that was going to happen. She wore her fakest smile.
"You can't pass, ma'am."
Rose giggled stupidly "oh, I know, love. But Claudius is there and I have a message for him from my cutie husband Lawrie Evert. It's just five seconds."
The guard looked at her and used the communication device on his wrist to speak with other guard inside. After a short exchange of words he let her in.
The message was fake. Probably the man named Claudius will forget that, but it gave her the chance to be inside the most precious room in the whole Capitol. The fucking control centre. No one noticed that she put the tiny mic under the table. Especially because everyone was busy and because the clothes covered her arms. Long life battery. Probably it will last longer than this game edition.
Once she left the room and the hallway. That stupid smile she hated so much disappeared from her face.
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"Be careful with her," an old victor warned Alfie once the training began.
Alfie had been watching Philip and he was extremely surprised by his ability to use spears despite having only one hand. It's not like district 9 had a lot of wild animals to hunt. Alfie promised himself to ask the boy about it later.
"With who?"
"Your stylist. Do you know her husband?"
"I don't know a shit about her except that she's annoying and she's laughing like an idiot all the time. Who the fuck is her husband?"
"Lawrence Evert."
Alfie stopped looking at the boy to look at the victor. It was the black woman known as Volcano Girl. Alfie was a little kid by the time she won, probably 4 or 5 years old, he barely remembered those games. But for a few years Aveline Young was quite popular. She was 34 years now, almost two decades passed from the moment she won.
"What?" Alfie asked looking at her.
Lawrence Evert was a bad word. It was an open secret the things he did to some victors. Even Alfie who was one of the youngest and hadn't heard everything, knew about him.
"Just telling you, Alfie. I couldn't trust her if I were you. Who the fuck can marry that bastard?"
His head were full of questions. Not only now he had to protect those kids from other tributes, but in case that any of them could win, he had to ptotect her o him from the husband of a woman who was pretending to be their friend.
.
The hostility towards her the following days only increased. Alissa tried to calm him, talked to him about other things but he didn't cooperate. Every time Alfie found her talking to Reah or Philip alone, he approached them.
Those bastards were everywhere. Every night when Alfie looked through the window and watched the lights he asked himself how many of them corrupted kids. The answer was probably: a lot.
Four nights before the beginning of the 60th Hunger Games, Alfie saw Rose dancing with Philip a tropical song. Both of them were laughing, but he wasn't. Not just he turned the music off, but warned the woman with his finger.
"It's nothing…" Philip tried to say.
"It's fucking a lot. Go to bed, now. You need to rest," the man ordered.
"But Alfie…"
"Go to the fucking bed, Philip!"
The boy nodded and left the dining room, leaving the two adults alone.
"Stay fucking away from them."
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Rose frowned "the moment you put a feet here you treated me bad, but these last days were awful… as far as I know I did nothing! So tell me, Alfred, what the fuck is wrong with you!!"
"With me? I came forced here! And I'm doing my job! Part if it is protecting those kids from monsters like you!"
Alissa appeared that moment to tell them that they were yelling at each other. Rose open the balcony door violently. Alfie was behind her.
"What the fuck do you mean by monsters like me. Because I was giving the kid a moment to be a child again? Joking and dancing trying to make him forget about his fate?? I don't understand, so tell me!"
"You know nothing, don't you?" Alfie snorted. "Probably you spend your days thinking what ridiculous shoes to buy, what new fucking bag to wear. Meanwhile in your back your beloved husband is a pe…"
"A what?!"
"Pedophile."
Alfie saw the exactly moment where life escaped from her eyes. She was paralyzed.
"What?"
"You heard me. Why don't you ask victors what do they think about Lawrence Evert?"
"What the fuck are…oh God." Rose felt sick and ended up vomiting in a flowerpot that was there. Alfie didn't move.
It couldn't be. Those years she had heard those rumours and never doubted about it. But that was new information. Disgusting new information. Her marriage it was recent, she accepted because he promised to keep her brothers names out of the bowls and he fulfilled the promises. Now Samuel was safe from it, he was 19, but her little brother Louis was only 14.
"FUCCKKKK!!" she screamed in the wind, crying. She let him fucked her without knowing he touched kids. She felt dirty. It was disgusting. "How many…" she thought. She didn't want to know. When she calmed down, moments later, she faced Alfie who was still there.
"You too?"
"No. Not by him, at least."
"I didn't know. Please, believe me, I didn't know. This kid, Philip, he is barely older than my little brother. I miss him! For me he's nothing but like my brother Louis. I never… never!"
"Yeah. I can see you didn't know. I believe you. But I don't want you near them. I don't trust people like you. Capitol citizens enjoying the killing. You didn't touch them, but I bet my ass you enjoy the games. Born in a fucking golden crib..."
"Don't you dare to talk about me like you know me, Alfred. You know a shit about me! I'm from district 8! I put my fucking name 185 times during my adolescence. I was fucking lucky that I never been reaped. I suffer from the same misery than you or these kids. I was lucky that when I was 19 they accepted me to work here. I'm sorry your lucky was worst than mine. But don't you dare to judge me. You don't know me. You don't."
When she left the balcony, Alfie kicked the wall. Everything was a shit.
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Reah and Philip the next days continue training. Alfie prepared them to face the judges. Rose was in her studio finishing the clothes for their interview on live TV. They barely talk to each other during those days. But they didn't yell at each other either.
At night, alone on her bedroom, Rose heard the conversation in the control centre and took notes: Specific words, times, names, codes… She also knew that the arena was a copy of a Grand Canyon. Beautiful but mortal. She couldn't tell Alfie, even if she wanted to. She didn't trust him. He could tell this secret to other victors and it could be the end.
.
Both kids ending their training with 7 points over 12 and the TV presentation was successful even for the shy Reah.
If kids could make it, was another story. That night, the last night, no one said a word but everyone knew that it was going to be the last supper for one of them. In the worst scenario, both of them.
Alfie found himself staring at the woman he knew as Rosebeth. She was quiet and she didn't look at all like the person of the previous days.
Next part
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rowdyhughesy · 2 years
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Love in Nevada ✰ Jack Hughes
I suck at summary’s but here is a Jack blurb from my drafts, happy reading!
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Being forced to listen to Dylan's awful music taste, Mark poking you time and time again because he's bored, Luke's snoring and Ethan constantly fidgeting in his seat cause as he claims 'can't get comfortable' is starting to drive you absolutely crazy. "Can someone please explain to me again why we decided to drive to freaking Nevada?" The question comes out angrier then intended and you should probably feel bad for snapping at your best friends but spending the last 32 hours in a car together is starting to become claustrophobic. "It was all Luke's idea!" Mark shouts throwing an accusing finger towards the boy sitting in the passenger seat. Luke narrows his eyes at the tall boy beside you. "It was all of us Estapa! See it as group bonding or whatever." Dylan rolls his eyes at all of us not moving his gaze from the road.
"Group bonding? We live together. I say we bond all the time. I've seen Marky in his birth-suit more times than I would like." Everyone starts laughing at your response except for Mark whose cheeks are currently the same shade of red as a fire truck. "You should really start locking the door when you shower." Ethan teases reaching over you to poke Mark in the stomach. Mark grumbles to himself swatting at Ethan's hand in retaliation.
◦◦◦
Hugging the sweatshirt closer, you rest your head on Marks shoulder. Deciding to sit on the floor was not the most comfortable but when there is 10 people in one house there won't be seats for everyone on two couches. Agreeing to play board games with 9 competitive hockey players, that was your second error of the night.
Trevor and Cole are currently bickering about how Cole thinks Trevor cheated in the current card game being played, the rest of the group watching with amused smiles on our faces. "Y/N, you're the only one here that isn't partial. Did Trevor cheat?" Cole's statement makes everyone shift their focus to you. Lifting your head from Marks shoulder you stare at the boys in confusion and a little bit of embarrassment for being the main focus.
"Honestly, I wasn't looking. I was busy peeking at Eddys cards but knowing Trevor for the past like six hours? I'd say yes." Ethan shoves your shoulder and Trevor immediately starts pleading his case about how he did in fact not cheat and that you bruised his heart thinking he'd do such a thing. "Trev listen bud. We all know you cheat every time we play so just accept the facts." Jack pats his friend on the shoulder laughing as Trevor stares at him with wide eyes. After that the game continues but you can't help but notice Jack glancing at you from the corner of his eye and there is no chance of ignoring how that makes your cheeks warm and heart stutter a bit in your chest.
◦◦◦
The house is still quiet, everyone still sleeping since it's not even nine in the morning yet and none of the boys have probably had the chance to sleep in for a while since the season just ended for the most part. Sneaking downstairs you make your way to the kitchen with the goal of making breakfast for everyone. To your surprise there is someone else awake except for you.
Jack is sitting by the kitchen island. A protein shake sitting on the counter and he is scrolling on his phone, workout clothes covering his body and hair still slightly damp from sweat. "Good morning." Startled Jack fumbles with his phone before looking up with raised eyebrows before giving you a smile and a small morning in response. "You're not sleeping in?" Taking a seat on the counter next to where Jack is sitting on one of the bar stools. He shakes his head before running a hand through his hair. "Nah, I woke up early so I just went for a run and Alex snores so my room isn't really peaceful right now." That makes you let out a sound between and a snort and a laugh covering your mouth with a hand to try and stifle the ugly noise that slipped out.
"So, you're the same age as me but you work as a photographer for one of the best schools in the country. How?" It's understandable how Jack can be curious of how you (barely an adult) got a professional job without a college degree. Most people you meet wonder the same thing when you tell them what you do for a living. You’re even surprised yourself sometimes if you are being honest.
"Well somehow the media team found my website and contacted me said they really liked my work and saw huge potential. I moved to Michigan about two years ago." Jack nods along to everything you’re saying listening intently as you explain how you ended up at University of Michigan.
Talking with Jack comes easy but you shouldn't be surprised since you felt the same way about Luke when you first got to know the Michigan wolverines. “Why do you live with Luke and his team? I mean living with half a hockey team sounds crazy." It's a hard question that you’ve never really thought about. One day after you first started getting close with the boys Mackie and Eddy just asked you if you wanted to move in and you said yes. "To be honest? My family is back home so I didn't have anyone close to me when I first moved here. It was terrifying but they made me one of them before I even said a word. They're my safe space when I feel homesick or get stressed out. I know that if it gets too much they'll look out for me or make me laugh when I'm sad. They're my best friends and like my little brothers."
Suddenly you feel bare, you have never talked about how lonely you were when you first moved to Ann Arbor. How scary it was. Those boys were your saving grace just when you thought about quitting and moving home. Ready to give up all the things you’ve worked for just because you were scared.
Feeling a warm hand on your knee you look up, Jack has a smile on his face but his eyes look sad almost like he knows all the things that just went through your mind. "You know I was lonely too when I first moved to Jersey. I had just turned 18 when I was drafted and I didn't know what was about to happen with my life. Everyone on the team were older than me and had their shit in order but I didn't. It's okey to be scared as long as you don't let it stop you from getting to where you wanna go." You can feel the tears coming so with a sad smile you wrap your arms around his neck. Jack hugs you back immediately and now that you have experienced a hug from Jack you decide that they're your new favourite.
Pulling away from Jacks embrace goosebumps rise on your arms and legs from the sudden cold that followed. His gaze is soft, giving of a feeling that resembles being wrapped up in a cozy blanket. A light blue and kind. “Do you think Luke will be pissed if I kissed his roommate?” Goofy smiles as both of you lean closer. “No but he will tease me for the rest of my life.” With that Jack takes a leap of faith and leans forward.
The kiss is just what you wanted it to be. A bit nervous and shy but has the feeling that this is the start of something big. Bigger than hockey, bigger than work and bigger than having to listen Luke and the other boys forever chirping you.
Yeah, this is definitely going to be the start of a new bigger chapter of your life.
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capinejghafa · 3 years
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tua rewatch | diego hargreeves in every episode
i heard a rumor (1.08)
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The right universe.
Summary: After Y/N's life turns upside down, she's full of grief. Somehow, one day, she manages to travel to the MCU, where she meets her favorite characters, including a certain god who seems willing to establish a friendship with her. Suddenly she's enwrapped in this new world, where everything she loved in a screen is now reality. How will she react? Will she be able to deal with the ghosts that haunt her? Or will she let them consume her? Will she be open to accept the love she is offered? Read to find out!
Read this on AO3! 
Category: F/M.
Relationships: Loki/reader.
Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Vision (Marvel), Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Stephen Strange, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel), Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Peter Parker, other minor appearances of other characters but these are the main ones, Pepper Potts, Loki (Marvel).
Additional tags: Loki/reader - Freeform, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Loki & Tony Stark Friendship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluffyfest, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Pining a lot because we love to suffer, Domestic Avengers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is a parental figure, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Everyone is a good bro, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, y/n, After Infinity War but no one died and the purple bitch was defeated, Missions, Y/N is a universe traveller, Grief, Therapy, Protective Loki (Marvel), Loki in love.
MASTERLIST OF THE STORY
Chapter 26: Where is Y/N?
“You are cheating!”
“I am not!” Sarah said in a mocking tone.
“Come on! You can't even pretend you're not laughing at me.” That made her let out a laugh and pull some cards from her sleeve.
“Fine. You win.”
“Of course I do,” Y/N said with a smug expression and her friend rolled her eyes.
“Whatever.” She got up from the couch. “Do you want some ice cream?”
“Yes please!” Y/N responded dramatically, as if she hadn't eaten a few hours ago. “We can watch the new season of Lucifer if you want”
“Sure,” she answered, handing her the ice cream. “For you milady.” Y/N snorted.
“Shut up.” Sarah made a fake offense expression and she laughed, making the blonde laugh with her too. She missed having these fun and light moments with a girlfriend.
                                             ------------------------------
“Where is Y/N?” Tony entered the living area in a panicky state. Everyone turned to him.
“She's at her friend's house, she had a sleepover last night.” Natasha said, confused.
“I need to go get her now.” He said, growing more distraught by the second.
“Tony, what is it?” Bruce asked, worried about his friend and Y/N too. But the billionaire seemed to be too caught up in his own thoughts to answer, looking frantically at his tablet and mumbling something under his breath.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y call Loki now! Tell him to come to the living area. It's urgent.”
                                          ----------------------------
“Mr. Loki, Mr. Stark is calling for you at the living area. He says it's urgent.”
Loki rolled his eyes, what could the tin-man want that was so urgent?
“He says it is about Y/N.” The AI said and he immediately got up from his sitting position on the bed and threw the book he was reading to the side, heading to the door.
“Where is Y/N?” He asked as soon as he entered. He did not know why, but something in his stomach was twisting, as if it knew something was wrong. Stark turned to him, his face completely panic-stricken.
“Tony, for god's sake explain!” Captain Rogers said, now getting as nervous as everyone else.
“I was investigating Sarah, her new friend, and before you say anything, I had to do it, for security reasons. We are huge targets for enemies out there, we need to be extra careful.” His tablet bipped.
“Stark, my patience is wearing thin. Spit it out.” Loki said, trying to swallow the knot in his throat. He looked up from the device.
“Her real name is Ingrid Müller, she is the daughter of Oscar Müller and Oksana Petrov, one of the founders of the Sky Breakers, the organization we tried to take down after they attacked us.” Loki felt his blood run cold. Y/N was in danger.
“Where is she now?” He asked, barely containing the fear in his tone.
“That's what I was doing. I have Ingrid's address here.” He said, lifting the tablet to show them.
“We need to go now.” Rogers said and no one argued. “Tony, Loki and I are going to go get her, you all stay here and prepare yourselves in case anything happens. And let everyone know the current situation, so they are ready.” Everyone nodded and soon enough, the three men found themselves on the quinjet, heading to “Sarah's” apartment.
                                       ------------------------------
It was a PH. They tried to be as cautious and silent as they could entering it. Steve knocked on “Sarah's” door, but no one answered. He looked at Loki and Tony and they both lifted their chins up and nodded.
The soldier kicked the door open and the three of them entered. They were not shocked to see the apartment empty, they were expecting it, all the calls at Y/N's phone probably gave them away.
“Where are they?” He asked.
“Not here.” Tony said, more scared than he ever felt in his life.
The three of them looked around the apartment. Loki entered the bedroom and saw the worst thing he could have ever seen.
“Here!” He shouted. Both men appeared and looked at the scene, petrified. There was blood on the floor, the room was a complete mess and the window leading to the stairs was open. Tony noticed something on the floor and he crouched to get a better look. He sighed.
“Y/N's phone.” In that moment Loki knew, the very thing he feared most had happened. “They have her.”
~taglist~ @mischief2sarawr @midnights-ramblings @mealoncholy-hill 
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shadowofahope · 2 years
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How Far
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Warnings: mentions of a cheating spouse
Pairing: JHope!Idolxreader
Premise: No matter how far or how much time has past memories still follow you.
Word count: 975
masterlist
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Maybe this may have been because of heartbreak, maybe it was about time you discovered yourself again. Whatever it was that lead you to using your couples package refund to book a round-trip flight to Korea, you should be thankful for. 
Should you be thankful for finding out your longterm boyfriend was cheating on you? That because of his sloppiness you found out before your planned trip to Mexico, one you had talked about getting engaged while there. You guess it was better knowing now then later. But it still stung nonetheless. 
The question really was: would you have said yes? Was he someone you’d want to spend the rest of your life with?
Probably not. That’s why it didn’t hurt as much as you knew it should have. 
Boarding the plane, you stow away your carry-on in its designated space, buckling your seat as you made yourself comfortable. Earphones in, music set to a special playlist you had made while sitting at your gate, trying to calm your thunderous heart.
The old crumpled photo your parents took over a decade ago lingering in your sweater pocket. It being one of the reasons you chose your new destination. One summer family trip that never really left you. Someone who never left you.
Remembering the boy who’s smile caught your eye. One you never forgot. Wondering now what he was doing, what he was up to in his life. Was he happily married with kids? Did his dreams to dance come true? The language barrier making it harder to really get to know him, but still that summer you had spent every free moment with each other; whether it be you reading and him play games. You keeping him company as he studied. Watching him dance at a youth centre. Playing games at the local arcade. Only using nicknames with each other as a fun little inside summer joke between you. Life felt so easy with the cute boy leading you around on fun day trips. You had promised to write to each other but life has a way of getting away from you. 
The memories now shrouded in a haze, along with his face now a blur. His smile still as radiant as ever, but his features began to slowly fade over time. The question always remained; why in times like these did his memory always resurface. Was a first love failing by impossibility call for a constant reminder when each relationship crumbled? When each one broken worse by the last, yet not hurting as much as it should. You guessed never getting over your first made it really hard to fully accept the others. No matter how you tried to convince yourself you had forgotten, you never really had. 
The presence of a figure sits beside you. You don’t bother removing your gaze from a cloudy spec on the window. Allowing yourself to be absorbed into a silent calm in your mind as they also got comfortable for the flight. 
Your music is cut by the vibrations of your phone, glancing down to it sitting in your lap. The number memorized even if the contact itself was erased. 
You let yourself answer, hopefully for the last time. Allowing your airpods to connect.
“Hello.” You sigh, chin resting on your hand as you leant towards the window. 
“Y/N! Thank god you answered. Please just hear me out, I’m begging you. I’m sor-.” Your ex boyfriends voice rings in your ears.
“Stop.” You cut him off, hand fumbling to your pocket to pull out the photo. “I’ve heard all the voicemails you left me, I’ve read every text. I know.” 
Your gaze shifts to the boy in the vanishing moment of time. Your fingers run over his figure, giving you a sense of reassurance. 
“I know.” You breathe deeply. 
“Y/n-” 
“It’s not ok what you did, but I’m ok with us ending. I’m ok with you wanting to be with her, I’m ok with walking away from you. I just-” What exactly did you want….you weren’t even sure. “I just wish you had told me before I found out like that.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you…”
“You didn’t mean a lot of things. I was shocked yes, but more hurt you wouldn’t communicate that something was wrong with us. Regardless, I’m ok now.” A soft smile plays on your lips as you study each crease of the photo, the outline of the boy next to you, the ice creams in hand and the smile on your face. “We can say goodbye and we’ll both be alright. Just be happy, ok?” 
A long pause before you hear a light sniffle on the other end. He may cry, but you won’t. Not now, not later. 
“You too, Y/N.” His voice breaks.
“Goodbye.” You hang up the call. 
“This is your fault you know.” You roll your eyes at the boy, giving a chuckle. “If only you hadn’t made me fall in love with you all those years ago, maybe I’d find a decent guy. No one wants to be second in someones heart.” 
The pilots announcements cut through the rest of the passengers, settling everyone down before the plane heads to the runway. 
“As long as I’m still first, Sunshine. Because you’ll always be first for me, no matter how far apart we are.” A voice comes from the person next to you. Stunned you turn to look them for the first time. A radiant smile beams at you, the same smile that lives in your memories. 
“Jay” A gasp escapes you.
“Hoseok.” He corrects, his smile almost becoming too bright to look at. You scan over his face, recognition fully hits you as an older version of the boy in the photo. 
Not only that, but a new wave of recognition hits you causing a joyful laugh to escape you. 
“Y/N.”
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darkmulti · 3 years
Note
I LOOOOOOOOOOVE YOUR NEW BTS HEADCANONS
They’re literally so good I can’t get over them!
I’d like to request stepbrother tae with younger reader, where the reader is inexperienced and tae teaches her everything. With some yandere themes, age gap, virginity loss, praising, master/angel calling.
Thanks very much :)
-> thank you, bb😙
-> sorry for any mistakes
⚠️: Yandere!Taehyung, virgin!reader, stepbrother!Taehyung, age gap (reader is 18 and Taehyung is 28)
Your dad proposed to his two year long girlfriend
Your mom passed away when you were 6 and your dad has been raising you as a single father until he met his now fiancé when you were 16
You accepted the relationship because your father meant the world to you
After your mom’s death, he fell into a deep depression but kept going for you
He loved, protected and cared about you greatly
Your dad waited for you to turn 18 before proposing to his girlfriend
The reason why is because, he didn’t want you to feel left out or forgotten
He wanted you to enjoy the last 2 years of your childhood before you join the harsh, adult world
Your dad was the best dad you could ask for and all you wanted was to see him happy again
And you knew this marriage was the answer
You helped your future step mom with everything
From picking little decor for the tables, to the bridesmaids dresses, to the theme of the wedding — your step mother wanted your opinion on everything
You both finally got the chance to bond without your dad third wheeling
While you guys were out, doing some last minute shopping, your step mother confessed something
“Sweetheart, I’m so excited to marry your father but something in my heart feels incomplete.”
You scrunch your face and immediately ask her “what’s wrong?”
“My son…” she hesitated but continued, “… I want to invite him to our wedding but I’m not sure how he’d react to me re-marrying. After all, he’s daddy’s boy.”
“You have a son? How come dad’s never told me?” You said and frowned
“Well, I don’t like talking about it very much. My son is not the biggest fan of me, but in the end, he is still my child.”
“I don’t understand… why doesn’t he like you?”
“His dad made him believe that I cheated on him, even though it was the other way around. Taehyung left me behind without letting me explain what actually happened.”
“I’m so sorry about that. Maybe you can send him an invitation. If he comes, he comes, if he doesn’t then he’s missing out.”
She chuckled and started walking again
“I guess you’re right. Thank you for the reassurance.”
The wedding arrived faster than you imagined
Since the morning, you’ve been running back and forth, making sure everything’s perfect because you don’t want your dad nor your step mom to be stressed
The ceremony itself took place during the day time and in the evening, there was going to be a reception party
The ceremony went well, but your step mom seemed to be a little upset
You assumed it was because her son, “Taehyung” didn’t show up
You felt bad for her, but there was nothing you could do
The reception party was amazing
Your dad and step mom were enjoying every bit of it
The food was amazing, everyone was cheering & bringing up past memories
All was going well till someone walked in that caught your step moms attention and wiped the smile off her face
You followed her stare and saw a handsome man wearing a black suit standing in the door way
“Taehyung?”
Your step mom said, before getting up and running to him
She was about to pull him in for a hug but he rejected
“I see you got married again, mother. Does this guy know he’s wasting his time on a cheater?”
That was when you butted in and stepped in front of your step mom
“If you have nothing good to say, then leave. Your mother is trying to make amends with you and if you can’t cooperate, you might as well go home.”
“And who are you?”
“I’m her daughter.” You said, proudly
“Step daughter, Taehyung.” Your step mom chimed in, not wanting her son to get the wrong idea
Taehyung rolled his eyes and went towards the bar
“Please don’t let him spoil your night, ma. I’ll keep him out of trouble.”
You thought Taehyung was going to do something obnoxious but, no
He sat down at a table all the way in the corner and started talking to you
You were a charming girl and he absolutely loved it
Your eyes full of love and innocence
He asked you about your dating life and you replied that you weren’t interested
That’s when Taehyung knew, he had to stick around
6 months had gone by and Taehyung finally apologized to his mother
Your step mom was over joyed that her son was back
She felt like her life was getting back together
You still lived with your parents, but they didn’t mind since you were in university
Taehyung on the other hand lived in his own apartment near your university
He was actually a professor at your university
One day, your dad asked you if you could sleep over at Taehyung’s place for one night
You asked why and your dad said that this was the day he asked out your step mom so he wanted to do something special
You agreed and packed your bags
Taehyung picked you up and took you back to his place
He kept the conversation going by asking you about school, hobbies, ect
He even offered to give you a private tutoring session for free
The evening with him was going very well
He ordered pizza and there was a movie starting on the T.V
Halfway in the movie, there was a sex scene that made both of you a little needy
You started to move around more and Taehyung was quick to notice
He also had a solution to make you stop
He put his arm around your waist and pulled in closer to him
You were about to ask him what he was doing until you felt his thumb rub your clit in a circular motion
You accidentally let out a loud moan in satisfaction
Taehyung didn’t waste this opportunity and kissed you hard
He turned the T.V off and got on top of you, rubbing his raging bugle against your clit
You started rubbing against him too, wanting him to fill you up
He removed your shorts and started rubbing your clit faster
“Have you ever played with yourself like this before?”
“N- No.”
“Let master show you how to pleasure yourself, okay.”
He pulled you into his lap and made you spread your legs wide
He guided your hands on your clit
“Rub it, angel.. It whatever way it feels good.”
You started off slow but it wasn’t satisfying you so you increased your speed
You were about to cum but Taehyung slapped your hand away from your clit
“Rule number one, angel. You will not cum without master’s permission.”
“Okay.”
He slapped your clit, making you flinch in his lap
“Rule number two, you call me master. Understood?”
“Understood, master.”
“Good, angel. Master likes fast learners.”
Taehyung’s hand made it’s way back to your private area
He pushed in the tip of his pointer finger and you let out a squeal
“M-master! It hurts.”
“I know, angel. You’re so tight, that’s why…” he removed his finger from you and brought it up to your mouth, “angel, suck my finger.”
You happily opened your mouth and sucked on his pointer finger till it was wet with your saliva
“Perfect, angel.”
He slipped it back in, but this time it went in easier
“Master, don’t take it out. It feels good.” You whisper as you rocked your hips for some friction
He immediately removed it causing you to whine and squirm a little
“Rule number three. You don’t tell master what to do. Understood?”
“Yes, master. I’m sorry.” You said, softly
“Rule number four, you don’t whine. I don’t want any whining, angel. Or else, I won’t give you what you want.”
“I understand, master. It won’t happen again.”
You were so obedient, it was driving Taehyung crazy
You were so desperate for his touch and love
“Okay angel, lay down on your back and put your legs in the air.”
You did exactly what he said and spread your legs wide
He slid his fingers along your slit only to find out how wet you’d gotten just from all the teasing
He spread your wetness all over your hole for some lube then pushed in the tip
You were a little scared so you touched around for something to grab onto and Taehyung noticed
He intertwined both of his hands with yours before pushing deep inside you
You screamed a little because it was your first time
“M- Master. Slow.”
“It’s okay, angel. It’ll only hurt for a little bit.”
He pushed his whole length in you and kept his pace slow
“Master, it hurts!” You yelled, throwing your head back and releasing your tears
Taehyung quickened his pace so you could adjust to him faster
After a couple of fast thrust, you started moaning and rolling your eyes back in pleasure
You let go of his hands and held onto his back
“Master-mmmh!”
Taehyung placed his thumb on your clit and started rubbing it while fucking you faster
“M- Master! It feels so good.”
“I know. You’re taking me so well, angel.” He whispered into your ears, sending chills down your spine
Taehyung has been dreaming of this moment ever since he met you
All he wanted was to fuck you rough and raw
The idea of claiming you become more and more intense as time went by
You made him crazy
All the love and innocence in your eyes turned into lust for him
“Master, a- a little fa- faster, please. I’m close.”
Taehyung grabbed onto your hips and started fucking you as hard as he could
You were moaning so loudly, he knew you were close
“Tell me angel, what was rule number one again?”
“Don’t c- cum without master’s permission.”
Right after you finished your sentence, you hit your high and wanted to release
“Master! Please let me cum!” You yelled, clenching around him as hard as you could in order to stop yourself from coming
Taehyung groaned when you clenched around him
It was like paradise
“Master, please! I beg you! I can’t hold it!”
He pushed his whole length in one more time before saying, “release, angel.”
You covered his cock in a coat of cum while he filled you up
Both of you were panting heavily until Taehyung pulled out and carried you to his room
“You did such a good job, angel. Now let master take care of you.”
Just like that, you fell into his trap
509 notes · View notes
nobodyfamousposts · 3 years
Text
Chloe’s Lament Part 3
She didn’t know how long she spent ruminating. What drew her out of those thoughts was the sudden shouting from behind her and the exclamation of Bustier ordering Ivan to go to the Principal’s.
…wait…
Yes! Yes, this was it! This was the start of Stoneheart, the first akuma!
This was the start of the previous Ladybug’s debut!
And it would be the beginning of her own!
Chloe was almost squirming in her seat as Ivan was ordered to go to the Principal’s office. She watched eagerly as he stormed out of the room.
Soon, she reminded herself.
Soon…
So caught up in her own plans and imagining all the things she would do with the Miraculous, she didn’t even notice when class was over until everyone was leaving.
That’s right! She had to go, too! Her Miraculous awaited!
Sure, she didn’t know where it would be, but it was supposed to show up when Stoneheart appeared, right?
All the more reason to head out now to start looking!
Or she would if it weren’t for Bustier calling her before she could get out the door.
“Chloe. Do you have a minute?”
No, she didn’t! She had a Miraculous to receive and a city to adore her!
But at Bustier’s expectant look, she turned back with a sigh and walked up to her teacher’s desk. This was just a minor and temporary obstacle. Surely her Miraculous would wait! It wasn’t like there was anyone else fit for the hero role.
Her thoughts shifted to Marinette briefly before she waved them off. Certainly not!
“Did you need something?” She asked. As much of a rush as she was to get her Miraculous, Bustier was her favorite teacher and had always been on her side. The least she could do was allow her a bit of her time.
“I wanted to check in with you before school, but it seemed you had gotten here before I did.” Bustier smiled but her expression seemed tense. “I heard there had been an argument before class started?” She asked gently.
Perfect! Just the opening she needed.
Chloe fixed a hurt expression. “It was awful! Marinette was dictating the roles for the work study and she was going to make Adrien work in the kitchen!”
There! Let’s see how that wannabe responds when the school calls her out on this!
Bustier listened to her cries and nodded in sympathy, so Chloe was sure she had this set.
“What did Adrien say?”
…except for that.
“Pardon?”
“Did Adrien say he didn’t want to work the kitchen?” Bustier asked curiously.
Did he?
“Marinette didn’t give him a chance!” She argued, though truthfully she didn’t remember how he responded at the time. She had just been focusing on calling out Marinette and getting back at her for everything.
“Did you ask Adrien what he wanted?” Bustier asked.
A long pause followed.
The teacher looked at Chloe almost pityingly.
What? What was that look for?!
“I already knew!” Chloe defended. Because she did! Of course she did! She didn’t have to ask! He was her best friend! Of course she knew him better than anyone! So of course she knew what he wanted! “I was just looking out for him!”
It was just to help him! It wasn’t about herself! Wasn’t that good? Didn’t that make her the good guy here? Where was the outrage at Marinette?
“Were you looking out for him or against Marinette?”
Silence.
Bustier sighed.
“Chloe, I know it’s difficult coming back after what happened. And I know you want your feelings to be justified.”
Because they were. Chloe’s feelings were justified, but no one could possibly understand why. She was the only one who knew about the previous reality. 
“—don’t know what you were doing in her locker, though I’m sure you had a reason, you know that wasn’t the right way to go about it—”
How could she even begin to explain what had happened? Of everything she had suffered while Marinette had gotten to play the hero and deny her what was rightfully hers?
“—though I’m sure it was an accident, but the things you said before and afterwards gave everyone the wrong idea—”
No. There was no point trying to explain. Even Bustier wouldn’t get it. Especially not at a time before magic was shown to be real.
“—really tried to argue on your behalf, but you were caught on camera—”
Though it seems like she at least is still on Chloe’s side. Plus there was that time she believed Marinette cheated on the test and did whatever, so clearly her trust in the girl wasn’t that great.
“—have already talked to Marinette about it and she’s willing to try to forgive—”
Plus Bustier was a bleeding heart. She never punished her for anything. Even looking the other way with some of Chloe’s plans. Getting bi-colored hair out of the way so she could be in the class photo next to her Adrikens. Her methods to win the Class Rep position. She never even made her do anything as the Rep. Surely that meant she was on her side, right?
“—but her parents are still very upset. It took a lot of effort to get them to agree to—”
Whatever this ‘probation’ was, it wasn’t like she’d be held to it.
“—advocated to keep you in my class along with her to prove you can do it. I have faith in you—”
Chloe nodded, not really listening, her mind busy formulating new plans.
It didn’t matter that Chloe was starting at a slight disadvantage. She could work around this.
“—so I hope you can understand—”
It meant that she just had to keep under the radar as Chloe.
And complete her revenge through the mask of Ladybug.
All the better.
After all, what better irony would it be than to ruin Marinette by using her own former hero persona against her?
“—what your counselor has been telling you—”
Chloe shook her head, realizing she had missed out on what Bustier was saying. And one word in particular stuck out to her.
“Counselor?”
Bustier looked surprised at Chloe’s own surprise, then worried. “Please tell me you haven’t been skipping your sessions, Chloe. Those are part of the requirements per the agreement for you to continue coming to school here.”
Chloe blinked in shock.
“What?!”
“I was able to argue for you to stay in my classes, and the administration agreed to keep you on a probationary period, but these are part of the conditions, Chloe.” Bustier explained. She sounded particularly anxious about it, causing it to really hit Chloe just how serious this was. “You need to see your counselor weekly and you need to not antagonize any of the other students, especially Marinette. Her parents were willing to accept the arrangement and not demand a hearing with the school board to have you expelled, but there is only so much the school can accommodate.”
No…no way…
How could she start off with things this bad for her already?
Wait…was this Marinette’s fault, too? Had she framed Chloe somehow?
Bustier rested a hand on Chloe’s shoulder in some attempt at reassurance.
“I want to continue to work with you, Chloe. But please…you need to at least try.” She said more than asked, but was still pleading. “Marinette has been willing to forgive, but if her parents hear anything more about you antagonizing her, this will be your last strike and they may very well demand your expulsion. Maybe even press charges.”
“Press charges?!”
But no one had ever pressed charges against her! She had never even had a detention before! And now she was facing this immediately?
“They aren’t going to!” Bustier assured her. “Believe me, no one wants that!”
Clearly Marinette did, the evil bit—
Bustier crouched, just enough to be eye level with her.
“Chloe, things aren’t over yet. We want you to have the best chance for your future. That’s why I’m working with you this year and why you have a counselor to help you with all these feelings you’re having a hard time with. And that’s why you need to take this as a new chance and do your best with it.”
Bustier looked at her hopefully.
“Do you understand?”
Yes, she understood clearly.
She understood that this world was ridiculous, UTTERLY RIDICULOUS!
This was not at all what she had wished for and she would be having words with that little kwami as soon as she got the Miraculous!
But as she couldn’t exactly explain any of that to Bustier, she simply nodded numbly and returned to her seat. There, she looked over her notebooks. And when Bustier wasn’t focusing on her, she glanced over her phone. Really, she should have done that first thing as soon as she woke up, and she regretted not doing so sooner.
What she found was…illuminating…
Chloe had gotten it completely wrong.
It wasn’t that Marinette was a threat. Or that she was abusing her power to bully Chloe. Or just doing any of the things that Chloe had assumed she would.
It was that Chloe herself was on thin ice for a history of bullying and harassment. And this time around, as a normal girl without her former clout, people were not as inclined to overlook her behavior. Especially when the girl in question being targeted was the daughter of the Mayor and also unexpectedly well regarded (not loved, because surely it had to be the position that made people hate Chloe originally, right?)
Marinette may not have been willing to demand punishment for whatever reason--probably to look good to the peons, but the school administration, being the cronies that they were, would hardly risk the liability of something happening to the child of an official under their care.
She left the class but honestly didn’t know where she was going. She was running on autopilot at this point as everything finally started to sink in about the new reality she was in. Nothing was as she expected. If anything, it was worse!
She just needed her Miraculous! Everything would be fine when—
“Chloe?”
Speak of the devil…
She had nearly bumped into the very girl her thoughts were raging against.
“Chloe?” Marinette asked. “Are you okay?”
No! No, she wasn’t! Everything was wrong and nothing was how it was supposed to be and it was all her fault!
“What do you want?” Chloe demanded sourly.
Marinette held out a hand but hesitated. She drew back but instead pressed on verbally. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed confused earlier, and—
Yeah, cutting that nonsense off right now! If she thought pretending to care would spare her once Chloe became the Ladybug hero, she had another thing coming! And there was no way she was going to let the traitor use her to try and make herself look better by acting nice.
Chloe sharply cut her off. If Marinette hadn’t pulled her own hand back, it would have been slapped away with Chloe’s motion.
“Stop faking! There’s no way a spoiled brat who is given everything by her parents would help others! You’re just as crooked as they are!” She shouted.
Because that’s what Marinette had to be! What she always must have been! Why else would she hoard all the Miraculous to herself and not give Chloe what was hers?!
Marinette looked at Chloe almost…pityingly.
That witch was looking down on her!
“I don’t know what is upsetting you, Chloe. But I’m not responsible for your problems. You can lash out for as little as it actually makes you feel better, but I don’t have to take it.”
Don’t have to—DON’T HAVE TO—!!!
Chloe pointed at her angrily. “It’s because of you that I’m having to see a counselor!”
And Marinette sighed! Sighed! Like she was the one being put upon here! Bad enough she stole Chloe’s life, but now she was trying to act like she was the wronged party, here!
“Chloe, the alternative was a restraining order and another fine. And I’m pretty sure your dad can’t keep paying them. All things considered, I think you got off lucky.”
Chloe broke off sputtering, wanting nothing more than to put the other girl in her place but having no way to do so without revealing anything.
Marinette stared her straight on, unperturbed.
“Whatever you’re facing now is a result of your own actions.”
How dare she?! Like she knows anything!
Who was she to talk?!
“Oooh!” Chloe stomped her foot before storming off.
She’d show her!
Just wait! Once she got her Miraculous, she would tear her down in every way possible and she would enjoy it! And THEN Ladybug would be sorry! She would regret ever denying Chloe!
She just needed—
From a distance, she could hear crashing and the sound of screams echoing through the school. Many people ran past her in terror. And peeking out, she caught sight of what could only be Stoneheart rampaging through the school. 
“No doubt looking for what’s-his-name.” She muttered. She hadn’t really cared to know the details of that first akuma attack aside from her involvement in it.
But still, there was an akuma, just as expected! Which signaled the first appearance of the heroes!
She smirked.
This was it! That meant she should be getting her Miraculous at any time now! She just had to wait for whoever to deliver it to her!
So she waited in place, grinning with excitement the entire time.
And waited.
And waited.
And…waited.
Waiting…
…but nobody came.
“WHAT GIVES?!”
How was she supposed to become a hero if her power-granting jewelry didn’t show up? How did Marinette get it originally anyway? She seemed close to that old guy…wasn’t he supposed to show up by now? She hasn’t seen any old guy!
“Where is it already?!”
Well, someone had to deliver it, right? Maybe they just didn’t know where she was and left it somewhere she could find…which meant she had to be the one to search.
“I can’t believe this!”
Nothing in her locker.
“What kind of service is this anyway?”
Her desk was empty.
“Is this how you treat your hero?”
With little other options, she stormed home in a huff—not like classes would happen anyway with a giant stone monster running around. She didn’t even need to bother checking, as it was what happened last time. And if the way everyone was running around was any indication, it would no doubt be the same now.
She couldn’t afford to waste anymore time. Her moment had come! And that meant her Miraculous was here!
She flung open the door to her room.
…somewhere.
“Where is it?”
Not on her desk.
“Where is it?!”
Not on or under her bed.
“Why would they make it so hard to find?!”
Really, she should be handed it on a golden platter as everyone begs her to save them! It shouldn’t be this difficult! And she shouldn’t be having to actually have to search herself!
That’s what the servants were for! Or Sabrina.
She was determined, however! Nothing would stop her, even a messy room! So she continued her search, throwing this or that aside—they weren’t a Miraculous, they didn’t matter.
She didn’t even notice that one of the items she tossed was a remove, which landed in such a way that it turned on the nearby TV.
“Maybe it’s in my closet?” She wondered.
That made sense. After all, once she got all the Miraculous, she’d be able to switch them out as easily as a pair of shoes. She would probably need to leave them in the closet when she’s not using them.
She opened the closet doors, giving a grimace at the small space and her much more limited wardrobe. It was so much smaller than her old one!
She briefly mourned the loss of the space and all of her top-brand designers as she forced herself to dig through the various clothes and accessories.
Not this.
Not that.
Ew! She wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that!
“—stone monster has been defeated!”
Chloe froze.
What?!
But she hadn’t even made her appearance yet!
Chloe spun around, nearly tripping over some shoes in her escape from the closet. All to get a closer look at the screen because clearly it was some cartoon or show or something. It was a mistake! It had to be a mistake!
But no, there was that news anchor—whatever-her-name-was. And behind her was a video of her classmate—Jim? Ryan? Whatever the rock monster had been, now back to normal—or as normal as anyone could be in THAT tacky shirt and getup!
And next to him…
A boy in black—blond but in a distinctly different getup from her Adrikens.
And a girl.
In red.
Red and black.
Ladybug!
It wasn’t the Ladybug she knew. It couldn’t be. She had just seen the now Ex-Ladybug in the halls!
The new hero’s hair was as red as her suit with a black headband—almost like a tiara. Her mask was a mix of red and black. Her suit was a black bodysuit with red accents—with her hands covered in gloves that seemed to be red and red boots that reached just above her shin. And the collar of the suit seemed to expand into a sort of dress that lengthened in the back, which when she turned appeared more like a cape that was red in color. Like a Ladybug’s shell.
And of course, the outfit was sparse with spots of differing colors, with multiple black spots on her red cape and single red dots center on her gloves and the peaks of her boots.
And looking closely—to the point she was literally pressed up against the screen, she could swear that the spots were all…in the shape of hearts, of all things? How juvenile!
But there was no mistaking it!
That was Ladybug. Maybe not the same Ladybug as before, but still the Ladybug Miraculous! It hadn’t been waiting for her like it was supposed to. It had gone to—been stolen by someone else!
They had made her tear up her room for nothing!
“—day has been saved thanks to the combined efforts of Red Queen and Cheshire! Paris’s new heroes!”
Chloe felt something crack. It may have been her TV.
Not only did this upstart steal her place as the city’s hero. And her rightful victory over the Ex-Ladybug by taking her place…
She took her title as Queen!
“How dare she?!”
Bad enough to injure her this way, but to insult her, too?!
At this point, she didn’t even know whether she was more angry with this faker or with Marinette!
She froze at that as the realization hit her…
Chloe didn’t have the Ladybug.
She wouldn’t be able to fix anything.
Her Wish had switched her with Marinette so she could make the other girl experience the burdens of her life while she could become the hero and make her suffer for her past life’s crimes.
But rather than hated, Marinette was actually well liked by their classmates and just in general. A few internet searches had pulled up Marinette using her power over others much as Chloe had in the past, so it wasn’t like they were any different! But apparently cancelling talks to make a new building for a corporate gym chain in order to keep a lame old skating rink open was good somehow! And forcing people to do backbreaking labor to plant trees on a Saturday! And that work study program at her Dad’s hotel! That was just free child labor!
The fact that Chloe had done the same thing in the previous timeline only with putting people in the suckier jobs had no bearing on this!
Chloe growled, clenching her fists and shaking at the injustice of it all.
And while Marinette was getting to live it up, meanwhile, poor Chloe herself was despised and about two steps away from a criminal record for things that weren’t even her fault! She couldn’t even enjoy the one nice thing about Marinette’s original position of becoming a hero and being popular! And any attempts to call out Marinette for her evils only made HER look like the bad guy!
Becoming Ladybug had been her only chance to fix this. She could have used it to promote herself. To tear down Marinette. Even to go back to the previous reality where she could still be Miracle Queen if nothing else! But now she didn’t even have that! Whatever stupid power in charge of this must be broken somehow!
This meant…
Marinette had won before Chloe even had a chance to do anything.
And now there was nothing Chloe could do about it.
She didn’t have the Ladybug. She was going to need a new TV. She didn’t have any of her previous life’s accommodations or riches to replace them. Nobody liked her. Her Daddykins had no influence to help her. Her Mother was still in New York.
There was only one thing she could count on, she realized as she picked up a picture frame.
“At least I always have you.”
The picture of Adrien stared back at her, flat and unblinking.
________________
Once upon a timeline, son of a fashion mogul, Adrien Agreste, was a popular model who was sad and cut off from the world, being isolated except for his only friend: daughter of the Mayor and the Style Queen, Chloe Bourgeois.
But someone didn’t like that story, so they changed it.
So once upon a timeline, son of a fashion mogul, Adrien Agreste, who only sometimes took part in his fathers business had two friends: daughter of the Mayor, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and daughter of the Style Queen, Chloe Bourgeois.
He was sad and cut off from the world for a time, true. But the current Mayor was a big believer of children having normal healthy childhoods and was not as inclined to ignore child labor laws. And her daughter, while happy to be his friend, was similarly a big believer of healthy childhoods and not as inclined to be Adrien’s only friend.
Being on good terms with the family, Sabine and Tom convinced Gabriel and Emilie to cut down on the modeling and activities for their son to let him go to school and spend time around kids his age. And being on good terms with Adrien himself, Marinette convinced him to interact with his various classmates and introduced him to a number of peers.
What followed was the beginning of beautiful—if not headache-inducing friendships.
A couple of years made all the difference. So much so that by the time that particularly Miraculous school year started, Adrien had already been going to school for a good couple of years. Long enough to become settled, join clubs, and make his own friends. Ones outside of Marinette and Chloe and their social circles.
Adrien Agreste was popular. Not the kind of popularity that comes with hundreds of fans chasing him down the street, thankfully, which he would certainly appreciate if he knew about. But rather, his popularity was the general school variety that came with a guy who was good looking and kind to everyone.
Adrien was, to put it simply, quite happy. And not at all alone.
He would play sports with Kim and Alix. Study with Max and Sabrina. Geek out over books and anime with Marc and Jean. Play games with Max and Nino. Blabber on about heroes and comics with Nathaniel and Mirelle. 
And of course, there was Marinette.
Adrien would be lying if he said he never had…some feelings for Marinette.
She was the one who had helped to convince his father to let him join public school three years ago. While it may have been possible for the man to argue with an hour long presentation complete with a fifty slide PowerPoint explaining why public school was beneficial for children including statistics and psychological studies, it was substantially more difficult for him to argue with the girl’s mother when she was both the Mayor and a close enough family friend. It couldn’t be sure which of the two had been the final push that had convinced Emilie, but once she was on board, Gabriel couldn’t help but cave soon after.
Either way, Adrien was grateful to his friend.
…and a bit smitten. Not that he could tell her that. Especially the way she would stick her tongue out when she was so focused on a drawing. Or how beautiful she looked when she took charge of a project. Or how cute she was the way she would get annoyed when she’d catch him wearing the worst possible combination from his closet, which was made all the better partly because it made his Father look ready to have a coronary as well. Plus it helped that she’d drag him to her house at the first opportunity to salvage his outfit into something bearable. He didn’t have to, but he let her every time.
She was adorable like that. And at least he wasn’t alone since it seemed many of his other friends had admitted a crush on her at some point that never went anywhere. He doubted he’d be different.
After all, he was admittedly a sucker for the childhood friend to lovers trope in anime—which made him all the more bummed that they hardly ever worked out.
And since he was apparently the equivalent of an anime protagonist now if his new little companion was any indication…
He looked down at his bag, where his new little friend smirked up at him.
…yeah, he didn’t want to risk it.
Especially given some of the things the little cat-god had told him.
“What do you mean we’ve done this before?” Adrien asked, rather confused to say the least.
“Yeah, it didn’t work out last time.” The creature—Plagg, replied. Though not actually answering his question in any way.
He looked up at Adrien with a smirk.
“But things will be different this go around. We’ve made sure of it.” He then turned away, muttering darkly something Adrien couldn’t hear about some “brat” and a “surprise”.
“O…kay?” He didn’t get it, but okay?
Plagg shook his head before turning back and floating up to eye level with him. “Just change up your suit, ditch the bell, and don’t call yourself Chat Noir and things will be fine.” It told him.
“But why?” Admittedly, his first thought had been “Wild Pussycat” due to his current favorite fandom, but Chat Noir actually sounded really cool.
“Trust me, kid. It’ll help.”
And apparently it had, since he’d met his partner and they’d defeated that monster easily enough.
Plus Adrien did rather like the Wonderland theme they agreed on.
He had been excited about the adventure—what teenage boy wouldn’t be? Still, it was a relief to return to the school the next day and find everyone safe and sound.
Mostly.
Ivan admittedly wasn’t having the best time, unfortunately. He was being crowded by everyone and questioned about the incident by the time Adrien had arrived. Everyone was clearly worried and no one knew for sure what had happened. Marinette in particular was being supportive.
Chloe was…not.
“—monster!”
“He’s not a monster!” Marinette countered defensively. “He doesn’t even remember what happened!”
“He could just be saying that!” Chloe yelled, pointing at Ivan. “Once a monster, always a monster!”
“Hey, back off, Chloe.” Alya said, stepping in front of her. “It’d not like Ivan asked to become a stone golem, and besides, any damage was erased and he’s back to normal.”
Adrien sighed. He was going to have to play mediator again, wasn’t he?
“Hey, Chloe?” He asked benignly, stepping up to her. “If you’re worried he’ll transform again, maybe upsetting him isn’t a good idea? We don’t know what caused it or if it was a one time thing.”
Actually, he did know. But given what Plagg had told him about how the akumas worked, he didn’t want to risk Ivan getting reakumatized. And he couldn’t very well come out and say any of that until this Hawk Moth guy revealed himself and the city as a whole had a better idea how his powers worked.
“Of course, it—” She suddenly cut off, as if realizing something. “Whatever!”
With that, she turned and stomped off.
What was her deal?
Still, everyone else was uncertain of what else to do and with class about to start, several other classmates chose to leave as well. Soon, the previously larger crowd had only a couple people left. Adrien, for his part, figured he should step back and give Ivan some space.
Marinette took advantage of the opportunity the lack of crowd gave to push Kim forward. The taller boy began nervously apologizing while Marinette sat by Ivan as support.
Adrien sighed in relief as he walked away.
Marinette was a wonderful friend. 
Chloe, on the other hand…
___________________
Speaking of Chloe, the girl in question had realized a few minutes after she had stormed off that in her anger, she hadn’t kept track of where she was going and had apparently gone the complete opposite direction of her next class.
Seriously! She knew more than anyone! They should be flocking to her for answers and instead, everyone was focusing on Kim! Or what’s his-name! Rocker boy! Sure, he was only going to be the first of many akumas, but nobody else knew that! She thought she could use that to boost her status by confronting the “threat”!
Last time, she had led the crowd by calling him out for what he had done. Yet much like many things, that had gone wrong this time as well! Instead of rallying behind her against the clear threat only she knew about, most of the people were giving her the side-eye. And of course Marinette freaking Chang had to be the one to act against her!
Really! She was the victim here and nobody even knew it! Thanks to that new Red Queen stealing her rightful place, Chloe had lost everything! And she couldn’t even TELL anyone! Now what was she supposed to do?
She growled, smacking a wall with her fist.
And now she would have to walk all the way back! And she couldn’t just skip classes for the day to make them suffer without her presence for siding against her; the school wouldn’t allow it. Which meant she would have to face everyone again. And walk in these old shoes that were murder on her poor feet!
Oh, the life of suffering she lived!
She trudged back through the hallway the way she came, taking a slightly different route—just in case the others were still where she left them. She didn’t want it to seem like she was intentionally coming back or anything. That would just be letting them think they were right.
“That was something earlier, huh?”
“Yeah. Poor Ivan.”
She paused. Up ahead was a connecting hallway that led to another path to her classroom. And she could hear voices from around the corner.
One of them was Adrikens!
She almost felt herself floating forward, her feet no longer in pain and her shoes no longer a trouble to her. Adrikens always made things better! And surely he of all people would understand her misery!
She peaked. Sure enough, there he was. Her precious friend! The only one she could count on!
But she didn’t recognize the other boy with him. It wasn’t Nino. She couldn’t not know if it was him due to how his name was engraved upon her psyche with how much Adrikens would talk about him.
The other boy grumbled, though Chloe barely took notice of what he had to say. Not until he started talking about her.
“I can’t believe Chloe. Well, I can, because that’s nothing new for her. What a…”
Gasp! How rude! Who did he think he was? He was luck he cut off or she would have had his parents’ jobs!
She winced, remembering that she couldn’t do that anymore.
…well, she’d cause him some repercussions, anyway.
But unaware of her, he kept going, turning to Adrien.
“Dude, why do you even put up with her?” The loser asked.
How rude! She wasn’t someone he had to ‘put up with’, she was a joy to be around! Of course her Adrikens adored her! And he would no doubt admonish that low class nobody for talking about her in such a way!
‘Because I’m his best friend,’ Chloe thought smugly.
Of course Adrien would be on her side.
Because she was his best friend.
Because they were each other’s only friends for years.
Because they’re the only ones who understand each other.
Because even if everything else changed, that was one thing that would remain true.
He would never abandon her.
Chloe Bourgeois and Adrien Agreste—them against the world!
“Honestly, I don’t even know anymore.”
She froze.
"I mean, we used to be friends, but that was more because her parents were friends with mine. Right now her Mom is my Dad's business associate and I kind of have to be nice to her or she could complain or something."
"Oh yeah. She did threaten to run to 'Daddy' earlier. Stands to reason she'd use 'Mommy' the same. But do you really think her Mom would care that much?"
"I don't want to risk it. Being in school the past three years has been like a dream. The last thing I want is to lose it all because Chloe threw a tantrum."
He sighed.
“Besides, I do feel bad for her. I mean…she’s alienated pretty much everyone she’s ever been in a class with and I’m the only one who will even talk to her.”
“The only one who can, you mean.” The other said snarkily. “She insults anyone else who even looks at her.”
He shook his head. “She doesn’t have any friends. And it’s just…sad.”
“Dude, that’s not your fault.”
“I know that now. She was always a...” He hesitated for a moment before spitting it out, “well...a brat. I’m honestly not sure I ever liked her. I just hung out with her at the time because she was the first kid my age to interact with and I was told to. Back then, I thought that was enough to make us friends. That that was what friendship was supposed to be.”
“Thank God for Mari and her mom.”
“Tell me about it!”
His words were like a blade piercing her heart from behind.
One after another, they stabbed her.
And he—her only friend, completely unaware, he just kept going.
“When we were kids, neither of us knew better. But while I grew up, she…didn’t.”
That…that wasn’t right!
None of that was right!
Adrien sighed. “And I really wish she would.”
Chloe didn’t even realize she had lost all feeling in her legs until she had slumped to the ground.
He…
He really thought that?
About her?
“I try to step in and help her when I can. Partly because I feel obligated to since we were close once, but mostly because I know she would just make things worse if I didn’t. I mean, you know what she did with Mari when she got mad. But honestly…I’m really tired of it. Of having to pacify her, the way she grabs me, her stupid ‘Adrikens’ nickname, and just…dealing with her. All of it.”
He sighed again.
“But who knows how much worse she’d be otherwise?”
“Dude, you’re not some sacrificial lamb here.” The other boy assured him. “And besides, you heard, didn’t you? Chloe’s been reprimanded and she’s only still in school on a trial period. If she does anything and people complain, she’ll be out of here and you won’t have to deal with her anymore.”
A weak chuckle. Her Adrikens—Adrien actually laughed at that.
“I’d feel bad if I said I was looking forward to it.”
The other boy laughed at that. “Y’know, I had a dream last night where she announced she was leaving Paris.”
“Sounds like a good dream.” Adrien replied, not even missing a beat.
“I know! I almost didn’t want to wake up!”
The two left, with Adrien just…continuing to chat and laugh and joke like they were best friends and like they weren’t making fun of Chloe who was supposed to be his best friend whose side he was supposed to be on no matter what…
But…
Where was he just then? Where was his defense of her? Where was his declaration that he was still her friend no matter what? Where was his insistence that she wasn’t as bad as people think? Where was his lecture of that boy for speaking ill of her? Where was his disappointment of the others for being mean and wanting her gone? Where was his promise?
...Where was her Adrien?
That was what finally broke through.
Chloe sobbed.
It wasn’t just Adrien. That was simply the last straw.
Marinette had Chloe’s life and was apparently happier than she ever was in the previous life—happier than Chloe had been even! Someone else was the Ladybug hero and had taken her title as ‘Queen’. She didn’t have a Miraculous. She didn’t have Pollen. Her Father wasn’t the Mayor. Her Mother was still in New York. And everything was…
Everything that had made Chloe Bourgeois who she was was gone. 
What was she, after all?
Chloe Bourgeois was rich.
She was the Daughter of the Mayor.
She was the Princess of Paris.
Without that…who was she?
Who was this new Chloe Bourgeois she had become?
She wasn’t feared. She wasn’t respected. She wasn't in any way liked. She was an annoyance at best. An irritant. A bug to them. Someone to be avoided.
And in Adrien’s case…pitied.
That, more than anything, was what hurt the most.
Adrien didn’t love her. He didn’t even like her.
And maybe…
“…I hate you, Chloe.”
…he never had.
“You’re the sort of person who is never satisfied with anything.”
…did he ever care about her at all?
“Whatever you do. Whatever world you create. My feelings won’t change.”
Had he…been trying to warn her?
“It won’t be real, Chloe. Whatever we had…whatever you would call it is already gone.”
She slowly pulled herself up. She wasn’t quite sure where she was going at this point, but she didn’t want to be there anymore. She was deaf to everything but the pounding of her own heart and the memory of Adrien’s words.
“Chloe, you don’t know what friends are!”
“And I didn’t know better before because I only ever had you. But since I’ve started school, I’ve learned what friendship is!”
 “I wish I had learned it sooner.”
Well…it looked like he had gotten his wish. Seeing him now, surrounded by people in a way he had never been before. Not even just Nino this time, but others from other classes.
He looked happy.
…had he ever looked that happy when he was with her?
She bit her lip.
That liar.
He…he was a traitor!
Just like Ladybug!
Just like all of them!
She looked up to the sound of cheers.
From the angle she was at, she could see her classmates gathered close to the doorway of the classroom. Apparently rocker boy and rainbow-haired girl were together now? Oh yeah, that had happened around this time like time, hadn’t it? Wasn’t he supposed to have been akumatized a second time first, though?
It didn’t seem to matter. They were holding hands. And the others were going on about how great it was. And Adrien was congratulating them just as much as everyone else. And they were all just so damn happy.
And there was Marinette, in the middle of it all. Smiling.
And not once did she even look at her.
Chloe could only watch on as they ignored her. As Marinette brushed her off like it didn’t matter while she got to carry on with what had been Chloe’s life. Still kind. Still friendly. Still popular. And somehow even more despicably perfect than before now that she had taken Chloe’s place.
All that…having everything that made Chloe who she was, and somehow, she was still so…disgustingly happy.
Not despised. Not unloved. Not a hateful, selfish person. Not…anything like Chloe.
“Marinette is a better Ladybug—a better person than you ever will be. And that’s because she chooses to be kind! Regardless of the circumstances!”
 …
 “Even if your positions were switched, that wouldn’t change.”
It…
It wasn’t fair.
IT WASN’T FAIR!
_________________________
The Universe is a director. It doesn’t alter the script, merely the parts. When someone demands a different role, the most it will do is swap people around to put them in places that best fulfill the demand. And if the ones who saw fit to make demands didn’t like their new roles...well...
The Universe didn’t particularly like critics.
So the critic wanted the baker girl’s life? That was fine.
After all, the critic’s father had two roles.
One for two. Two in one.
Why not split the difference and see what comes of it?
At least, that was what it figured. And it turned out pretty well in its not so humble opinion.
The city had a steadfast leader. The hotel had a caring manager. The bakery had a decent owner. The heroes were both the same and different. The sad male lead would get to display greater range. The former hero got to take a break after carrying the entire production previously. And the invisible actor would get a chance to step out of a shadow and finally shine.
And if the little critic didn’t like it, maybe she shouldn’t have complained?
Some people just didn’t appreciate what they were given.
The Universe nodded to itself and turned its attention to the new heroic duo, curious as to what would come of this new dynamic.
It was getting bored of the old love square anyway...
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vvienne · 3 years
Text
XICHENG FIC RECS
hold my hands by Snooze (Chiruka)
Transplanting a core into a new person isn’t without repercussions. One year after the events at Guanyin Temple, Jiang Cheng found himself once again faced with the possibility of losing everything he had. Reconciling with his brother, learning to let Jin Ling go, and dealing with his blooming emotions toward the First Jade of Gusu — will Jiang Cheng accomplish what he wants before time runs out?
it all passes someday by screamlet
A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.
*
Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.
The Unlikely Expression of Love by manamune
When everything has settled, when everyone else has moved on with their lives and their friends, Jiang Cheng has a realization which shouldn’t actually be a surprise:
He’s lonely.
Indigo, lavender, and violet (I don't wanna be red) by ohwhatevrewhatevr
It, in the pale colors of the late morning, is the closest to perfect Jiang Cheng will ever reach. He strokes Lan XiChen's hair and presses a light kiss to where his ribbon and hair meet. The sky is a pale blue, and the pastels of flowers and clouds are spread out through the window, a brilliant world waiting for them, them in the gentian house, safe from stronger breezes - there is the clutter of birds fluttering and chirping outside. It is a warm, perfect, spring morning.
Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen have been together for an year. In which, no one ever really gets over things, Jiang Cheng has the misfortune of interacting with his brother, the juniors help out with the proposal, and there's a marriage.
Altitude by starknjarvis 
When Jin Ling lures Jiang Cheng to the Cloud Recesses under false pretenses, he finds himself out of place among this new family Wei Wuxian has formed.
Lan Xichen, at least, seems pleased to have his company.
Perhaps there is still a chance for Jiang Cheng to make amends and move forward.
[Modao Zushi Online] GLITCH REPORT: My Brother Got Chased Down And %$@*$&@ By Gusu Dungeon Boss??? by oh_fudgecakes
Modao Zushi Online is a virtual reality MMORPG. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are top ranking players in its new server, currently tied with their arch-nemesis from their previous server, Wen Chao. In an attempt to defeat him, they take on the Gusu Dungeon Boss, Zewu-jun, to win the reward of a legendary weapon. Ever the cheat, Wei Wuxian tries to take advantage of a glitch to defeat the seemingly undefeatable boss. It backfires. Jiang Cheng gets fucked by a boss monster.
He can't get enough.
Meanwhile, Lan Xichen, the unwitting staff member in charge of controlling Zewu-jun, absolutely did not sign up to be pulled into a secret virtual reality fling with a player. Mod Ji, who has to deal with Wei Wuxian's incessant glitch reporting of his brother's sex life, is long-suffering.
Mulberry by xxdz
Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and pushes harder. He feels like torn silk, the embroidery needle sinking in again and again and again; patiently, desperately, endlessly trying to make something beautiful out of something broken.
Jiang Cheng builds his sect, learns embroidery, and raises his nephew.
we can raise a little family by lanyon
“Well, brother,” says Wei Wuxian, leaning against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s chambers. “I had heard that you and Xichen went on a night hunt and came back with a baby, which is not the order I’d choose to do things in…”
In which Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen acquire a baby of unknown origin, and are the very last to know what it means.
Beyond the Impossible by Silverine
Summoned by Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin goes to the Cloud Recesses to drop his nephew Jin Ling, expecting to discuss relevant matters with his old master. Instead, he's asked to take with him no other than Sect Leader Lan himself, all the way back to Lotus Pier. If the reason why he accepted such an outrageous task is indeed a mystery, he's about to be surprised by how this entire trip, their encounters, and his warm company, suddenly feel fated.
Incrementally by xxdz
Jiang Cheng is trapped in a day on repeat where he begins by waking in Zewu Jun’s bed at dawn and ends by dying painfully at dusk.
It’s getting very irritating, and he has the sneaking suspicion that his chances to solve his own murder are rapidly running out. Soon, his death will be much more permanent.
All in all, worst birthday ever.
Audience of One by WinterDreams
“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.”
Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.
A Bit of Ruthlessness by jirluvien
When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proved time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.A story about grief, determination, unexpected friendships, abandoned watchtowers, and letters. So many letters.
All Tied Up In You by Clearpearls
Yet again, the night had come to this:
Jiang Cheng on the floor, kneeling, Zidian wrapped around his wrists.
Alone.
Thank You, and I'm Sorry by Hamliet
Jin GuangYao might be dead, but his story is not. Taking advantage of the chaos he instigated, someone makes an attempt on the life of the young new leader of the Jin Sect. When Jiang Cheng takes Jin Ling to the Cloud Recesses to have him study while he attempts to work with Wei WuXian and his husband Lan WangJi to eliminate the threat, he encounters a mourning Lan XiChen, lovestruck teenagers, and a persistent corpse--and both pairs of brothers find themselves struggling to move on.
saturn's rings (don't be a heartbreaker) by iskendaris
Set after the seige of burial mounds, Yunmeng rebuilds as they hold the first Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Sometimes the night is a gift, a refuge for loneliness. "So stern, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen murmured, "So glacial... What will it take to melt that icy exterior? What can I say?"
"Nothing. There's nothing you can say or offer."
reciprocity by jukeboxhound
There’s a pause before Lan Xichen says, in a tone that’s a little more neutral, “I would like to paint on you.”
“…What?”
“Of course, if you say ‘yes’ but then change your mind at any point, for any reason, you need only say so and I will stop immediately,” he adds.
Well, silver lining: Jiang Cheng is feeling much more awake than he was a moment ago.
Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes
Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.
As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.
Marginal Costs by ohwhatevrewhatevr
“You think you know what you want, Er-Ge,” A-Yao says. “But you should consider what you’re willing to give first,” he says wryly, taking Lan XiChen’s chess piece with slim, skilled fingers.
Lan XiChen looks up at A-Yao’s concentrated expression and the hint of contentment on his face that he is special enough to be allowed to see.
“It’s not just one decision, but the lead up to many more. One decision decides what else you’re going to have to pay, and each time you have to ask yourself, ignoring the sunk costs, if this time it’s worth it as well.”
When his sworn brother looks up at him with those clear, amber eyes, waiting, Lan XiChen feels the pull and gives in: he asks.
“Are you happy being in love?”
(First half is two sad sworn brothers talking, internally mourning how unfortunate their other sworn brother’s death was :/ and second half is when a mopey boy in blue meets an angsty boy in purple whilst chasing a demonic cultivator, and a lil bit of sexy dual cultivation happens.)
Somewhat Tender by theherocomplex
There is no defense against kindness; it has always undone him.
I didn't expect you to be lonely (too) by bettydice (BettyKnight)
Jiang Cheng's life is a mess, he's a mess, and he doesn't miss his brother at all. So when his sister gifts him ten sessions with a massage therapist, who turns out to be someone he was crushing on for a hot minute as a teenager and is still as hot as ever... yeah, that might as well happen. It won't have to mean anything.
This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.
It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.
Life for Rent by yodasyoyo
“Yeah well. You’re not taking me seriously. This guy is my soulmate!”
“Soulmate.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
“Just because you don’t believe in them—”
“I believe in them!” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ve never denied they exist.”
“Just last week you said that it was an evolutionary quirk that had been used by greetings card companies, movie makers, and corporations to exploit lonely and vulnerable people.”
“And I stand by it! That doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t real. Just incredibly unlikely and probably pointless.
-
Or:
Xicheng vs Soulmates. Fight!
Halfway Around the World by theherocomplex
Normally, Jiang Cheng would be seething, jaw clenched tight, if someone sounded like that while they were talking, but — Lan Xichen has the trick of always making you feel like you're in on the joke, whatever the joke is. That you're laughing together.
Whelmed by yodasyoyo
For months now Jiang Cheng’s been idly fantasizing about how it would be if something were to come between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Mostly those daydreams have been simple enough — they break up (probably because Lan Zhan is boring or Wei Ying is annoying), Wei Ying is sad for a couple of days (Jiang Cheng’s willing to allow some space for feelings, he isn't a total monster), but then Wei Ying realizes he’s better off, he gets over it, and Jiang Cheng gets his brother back.
Unfortunately the fantasy version of events has only proven partially true, so far. They've broken up. Wei Ying has been sad.
Now weeks have passed, though — and Wei Ying is still sad, every. Single. Day.
It’s like Jiang Cheng's stuck in a looping GIF, and it’s driving him insane.
Or:
Jiang Cheng plots, Lan Huan pines, and, unfortunately for Lan Qiren, Wangxian are inevitable.
299 notes · View notes
weasleylangs · 4 years
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if you don’t know, let me go - f.w
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Pairing: Fred x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Summary: It’s always seemed like they’ve been dancing the line between friends and more, so why does he take a different girl to the ball? Warnings: Some swearing, pining that one character is too much of a dummy to see, a bit of angst but it eventually becomes fluff I promise, jealousy but nothing toxic, underage drinking but it’s like one line. Word Count: 5.8k
A/N: This is my first fanfiction in literally forever, so any feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open if you like this and want more! Also this got stupidly long fast, I can barely write book reviews on Goodreads without writing a novel so my bad, I’m sorry if you don’t like long fics. (Also cross-posted on AO3 as the tumblr tags don’t seem to be my friend right now.) 
- Also, thank you so much to @lumosandnoxwriting for answering all my questions on how to get back into writing!
Send me an ask or a dm if you would like to be added to a tag list!
---------------------------------------------------
“Do you think he’s going to ask you?” 
It’s Wednesday afternoon, late enough for class to be over but too early for dinner and Y/N’s attempt at understanding anything in her potions textbook is broken by Alicia Spinnet talking to her. Despite the fact she hadn’t said a name, Y/N knows immediately who she was talking about and she shrugs in response, closing her book and accepting that studying was not on the table for the rest of the night now the ball has been mentioned. 
“Probably not.” She deadpans. Y/N’s been trying not to get her hopes up that Fred would ask her to the Yule Ball since it was announced three days ago. Alicia’s already been asked by George- who immediately did a dramatic reenactment of some muggle proposal he’d seen in a movie as soon as Dumbledore announced it. But Fred had been more reluctant to ask anyone, despite people’s assumption that he could get anyone he pleased. Y/N only hoped this was because he was too shy of taking whatever they were from friends to lovers.
No one really understood how the outspoken and mischievous redhead became friends with the snarky Slytherin girl, but 6 years into their schooling people have stopped questioning it. They had formed an unexplainable bond the second they met on the train to Hogwarts when they were eleven years old that may have included both shouting at blood purists and now it seems to have evolved into something beyond just a friendship. 
Lingering stares, soft touches, the fact neither of them had really dated anyone else because they were too caught up with each other. Everyone, including their friends, have all placed bets on how long it’ll take for the two of them to ‘fess up and finally get together.
“What makes you say that?” Alicia asks, genuinely. She’s heard first hand the teasing George and Lee give Fred over his feelings for Y/N in the Gryffindor common room when they think they’re alone so she finds it hard to believe he hasn’t even hinted at them going together yet. 
Y/N shrugs. “I just think if he wanted to go with me, he’d ask me by now… Y’know?” Alicia can’t really deny her logic. Fred’s never been the one to shy away from being outspoken about anything really in the whole six years she’s known him, so even she can admit it’s weird that Fred hasn’t asked her.
“Maybe he just assumes you guys are going together?” Alicia starts, and before Y/N can argue back, she holds up a hand, “I’ll ask him after dinner tonight. I can guarantee Lee or George will join in and you’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!” Y/N shakes her head and laughs, and starts packing her things, mumbling about Alicia is a meddler and that she’ll see her later.
-
Y/N’s walking to the Great Hall for dinner when it happens. Adrian Pucey, star quidditch chaser for the Slytherin team slinks up next to her and scares her enough to almost drop the books she has clutched in her hands. She’s never had a problem with Adrian- their parents are in similar friendship circles so she sees him at family friend events outside of school, but she’s never considered him a friend either, which is why his approach to her is so odd.
“Sorry about that,” he laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets as Y/N clutches her chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 
“No, no, it’s fine,” she starts, “You’re just very quiet. I’m used to being almost tackled to the ground when I see friends.” She laughs, but she doesn’t miss the awkward tension in the air and she can’t help but assume what’s coming next. 
“I just wanted to ask if, uh, if you don’t have a date to the ball… If you’d like to go with me?” 
Y/N gulps. She knows she shouldn’t be putting all her eggs in the Fred Weasley marked basket, but she can’t help but remember her conversation with Alicia only an hour ago.
‘You’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!’
Adrian senses her hesitation and lets out a breath that sounds like he’s almost laughing. “You’re waiting for one of Weasley twins to ask you, aren’t you? Fred, right?” She hates how easily he caught on.
“Adrian, I- Ugh, I’m sorry. But yeah… I am.” She feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment at someone she’s not even friends with pointing it out. She can’t help but think maybe this is a sign though, that if everyone else is expecting it, why hasn’t he asked her yet? 
“No, it’s all good. But the offers on the table if he’s too pussy to ask you out.” He gives a kind smile as he walks off to catch up with Marcus Flint who’s drilling Malfoy about quidditch plays.
She exhales slowly and finally makes it to the Great Hall. She scans the tables looking for her closest friend in Slytherin- Daphne Greengrass and once she finds her, she quickly makes her way over to her. Dinner is relatively uneventful since she’s sitting with her house, and George manages to catch her eye at one point and mouths ‘miss you’ to which she laughs and says she misses him back.
She’s about to get up and leave when the last thing she expects to happen, happens. She hears Ron exclaim loudly that Fred can’t make fun of him for not having a date because he doesn’t have one either. Y/N feels her heart start to race, knowing if anyone’s going to prove a point to Ron, it’ll be Fred Weasley. She doesn’t hear what Fred’s reply is but Harry and Ron both scoff, and one of them says ‘ask a girl out if it’s so easy then.’ 
Y/N’s about to approach the Gryffindor table when George’s eye catches her, and he shakes his head. Fred has already thrown a scrunched-up piece of paper at Angelina and her heart sinks. 
“Angelina! Will you go to the ball with me?” 
As Angelina laughs and says yes to Fred, it feels like the whole Great Hall is either watching their altercation or watching Y/N in pity. Her heart now feels like it’s in her throat, and she needs to get out of the room before she cries or yells at Fred. She pivots on her heel and is met face-to-face with Daphne, who nods in silent agreement that they’re going back to their dorm. 
Y/N is halfway down the long tables with the door in her sights when she spots Adrian out of the peripheral of her eye. She can tell he’s looking at her in pity and in a weird way, she feels the need to show defiance against Fred Weasley. She needs to show she doesn’t need pity, especially right now, that she can get a date herself. So she stops in front of the Slytherin quidditch team and slightly smirks. 
“That offer to the ball still on the table?” 
-
Daphne spends the night taking Y/N’s mind off the Weasley family. They sit in their dorm together, once again trying to study for potions which eventually leads into ball talk yet again. Daphne can tell the idea of going to the ball with anyone who isn't Fred is unnerving for Y/N, but there’s no backing down now.
“That was kind of a badass move, y’know?” She starts, treading lightly as they eventually reach the elephant in the room, ‘Asking Adrian after what happened.”
It doesn’t feel badass to Y/N. She feels like she’s cheating on the redhead that owns her heart, but she knows that’s ridiculous. Fred clearly has no form of feelings for her and she’s decided to get over him. 
“It’s nothing…” She starts and she sees Daphne’s eyebrows raise. They’ve been roommates every year since they started school together so they’re both aware this is a big lie. “I didn’t want to go alone. Everyone else had dates already and Adrian’s nice. Plus, he did ask me before…”
Daphne nods, not wanting to press further. “Have you got a dress yet?” It had said on their packing list for the school year to bring a dress or dress robes so everyone’s already well prepared. Y/N nods and walks towards the closet before pulling out a floor-length silver gown with lace detailing. She smiles shyly as Daphne gasps in awe. 
“Eat your heart out, Fred Weasley!” For the first time all night, Y/N laughs. She knows she’s going to look stunning in the dress and while she has no ill resentment towards Angelina for agreeing to go with Fred, she can’t help but feel a little bit coy knowing Fred’s going to see her in it. 
She’s sitting at her desk in Transfiguration the next day when he finally acknowledges her presence. She’s twiddling her quill in her fingers, dreading the moment the troublemaker waltzes into the class. His usual seat is the one next to her, while George and Lee sit in front of them but she can only hope Alicia takes the hint and sits with her before Fred does.
She doesn’t get her wish. She’s about two seconds away from dozing off when the seat screeches against the hardwood flooring below them and she looks to her left to see Fred smirking.
“Hi love,'' he starts, the nickname not feeling out of ordinary, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” He says, and it’s true. He hadn’t seen her since class yesterday. He had looked for her before dinner to tell her about the prank he’d pulled on Filch with George while she was studying and he’d barely seen her during dinner. 
Her heart starts to speed up at the nickname, and she forces down the bile she feels growing in her throat. “Yeah, I just ate dinner and went to bed yesterday. Been studying for potions. Sixth year is hard.” She’s trying to be short and sweet and maybe a little blunt but Fred doesn’t pick up on it. “Heard you asked Angelina to the ball too.” She’s hoping to whoever’s listening to her prayers that the jealousy isn’t evident in her voice and by the dopey smile that grows on Fred’s face, her prayers were answered.
“Yeah! Ron was being such a prat, telling me I couldn’t make fun of him for…” But she drowns his voice out. It might be a bitch move, but she really doesn’t need to hear the who, where, when and why he asked Angelina out. It’s clear to Y/N that Fred didn’t even notice her existence at dinner and that stings more than she’d like to admit. 
She can barely concentrate during class. Fred has never really shown to care about any academic success, so he spends the entire period trying to entertain Y/N and get her to speak to him but she’s being stubborn and Fred can’t help but wonder what he did wrong. He starts to think maybe she’s just had a bad day, but when the bell rings and she storms off without even saying goodbye to him he’s dumbfounded.
“Trouble in paradise, brother?” George teases when he sees the frown adorned on Fred’s face. 
“Have I done anything to upset Y/N?” He questions and he sees the way George and Lee both give each other a look. They know something he doesn’t and that leaves a feeling of uneasiness in his chest. Y/N and himself have always been closer than her and George and especially her and Lee. He was there for her when her parents were fighting constantly when she was 11 and when Marcus Flint started bullying her in 3rd year. He was even there when she cried to him last year about the guy she loved and how he was so stupidly blind to her feelings and while she didn’t give a name, Fred was dying to go punch whoever it was for not realising he had his best friend’s heart.
“If you have, it’s not up for us to tell you, mate.” Lee states and he hides behind George when he notices the scowl on Fred’s face. Lee knows better than to get between him and Y/N, but he isn’t wrong. 
“Look, Alicia said she was fine when they left the library yesterday evening,” George starts, and he knows he shouldn’t be lying to his brother and best friend, but it’s not a huge lie, and maybe it’ll push his oblivious brother to realise what he did to upset his best friend, “She was at dinner last night when you asked Angie to the ball and then she went to her dorm with Daphne. Heard something about her saying yes to Adrian Pucey asking her to the ball…” While George made extra emphasis on the fact Y/N witnessed Fred asking Angelina to the ball, Fred’s eyes glaze over in rage when George mentions Adrian and he has a feeling his twin has got the wrong idea.
“I bet Adrian did something to her. Fuck him, honestly.” And before George and Lee can stop him, Fred’s stalking out of the classroom with Adrian Pucey in his sights.
Fred doesn’t find Adrian until later that afternoon, standing on the pitch and clad in his quidditch robes, yelling at someone who Fred assumes is Montague. He thinks now is probably a bad time to confront him, but he's blinded by the thought that he’s hurt Y/N. 
“Pucey!” He shouts and when Adrian turns around, he chuckles and smirks at Fred. He was expected this later rather than sooner, specifically during dinner, but he guesses now will have to do. 
“What?” He asks, but they both know why he’s here and he’s just enjoying riling Fred up. 
“What did you do Y/N?” Adrian scoffs at this and shakes his head which confuses Fred. “What did I do to Y/N?” Fred stands his ground, chest puffed up. Adrian might be a fair bit shorter than Fred but Adrian hasn’t got anything to be scared of. Sure he’s seen Fred throw a punch or two and he’s definitely been on the receiving end of a bludger from the Weasley during a game, but he knows he isn’t the one that hurt Y/N here. 
“I think you should be asking yourself that, mate. Y/N only agreed to going to the ball with me after you asked Angelina out right in front of her.” This causes Fred to look at Adrian in confusion and Adrian laughs at Fred again. He’s confused, why would asking Angelina out hurt Y/N? 
It turns out he said that out loud, because two seconds later Adrian is responding to him, “Because she was expecting you to ask her, Weasley.” 
Adrian doesn’t even wait for Fred’s reply before stalking off to the Slytherin change rooms and Fred’s left standing on the pitch, wondering why the ache in his chest is almost debilitating at the thought of hurting Y/N and questioning why he feels the need to throw up knowing she’s happily going with Adrian Pucey. 
-
Fred’s next port of call is finding Y/N. After his talk with Adrian, he needs to find out why she expected him to ask her to the ball. He would’ve happily gone with her, but to Fred, she hadn’t even dropped a single hint at wanting to go with him and when she’s finally located, she’s in the library with Daphne. 
“This is my exit cue,” Daphne mutters as she notices the redhead roaming around the library looking for Y/N. She doesn’t even have a moment to question Daphne before the seat in front of her is suddenly occupied by the last person she was hoping to see again.
“Why are you going with Pucey?” Is the first thing that leaves Fred’s mouth, and it wasn’t what Y/N was expecting. She splutters, only for a few seconds, before eventually replying.
“He asked me.” 
Fred’s eyebrows furrow, but didn’t Pucey say she wanted to go with him? “A little birdie said you wanted to go with me. So, how come you’re going with him.”
Now Y/N scoffs and Fred can’t help but notice how many people are scoffing at him today just for asking questions and it’s getting annoying. “You didn’t ask me. He did. So, I said yes. Don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.” She’s intentionally being short, hopefully not spilling anything about her feelings for the boy in front of her. 
“I didn’t know you wanted to go with me, Y/N. How was I supposed to know?” At this, Y/N goes from feeling hurt to angry and she can’t explain why her hands start to shake. 
“How were you supposed to know?” She exclaims loudly which causes her to receive a rather nasty ‘sh’ from Madam Pince and a few O.W.L students surrounding her. 
“Have you seen the way we act around each other Fred?” She’s now whisper yelling and the confused look on Fred’s face as she says this just aggravates her further and she’s convinced no one is this daft and he’s pushing her buttons on purpose. “Because everyone thinks we’re fucking dating already, Fred. You have to constantly be touching me, we’re always together, you call me darling and love and you kiss me on the forehead when I fucking bring you sugar quills from Hogsmeade because they’re your favourite and whenever you have spare money you always buy me Honeydukes chocolate because you said you like seeing me blush when you buy me things. You’re telling me now that we’re just friends?”
If the ache in Fred’s chest was almost debilitating on the quidditch pitch earlier, right now it feels like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. Her cheeks are flushed, her fists are clenched, pieces of her hair are falling out of her bun that’s resting on top of her head and, worst of all, Fred’s noticed the tears of anger and frustration pooling in her eyes.
She sighs before continuing, trying to compose herself so he doesn’t see her crying over him, unaware he’s already noticed the tears threatening to fall. Her voice is sad and broken, and it feels like the ending point for her. 
“I was just stupid enough to assume this year was the year we would finally admit we’re more than friends, Freddie. But I guess all this time it’s been one-sided. I hope you have a good time at the ball with Angelina.” 
Fred grabs her wrist as she starts to pack up her things and looks at her, scanning her face for any form of emotion. “Let me go, Fred.” She looks at him with pleading eyes and he lets go of the grasp he has on her wrist.
Fred doesn’t try to stop her again as she hastily packs up her things and he sadly watches her leave the library without turning to look at him. 
-
Y/N doesn’t care if it’s considered dramatic, but she lays in bed and cries for the rest of the day. While she hasn’t gone through a literal break-up, it feels like her friendship with Fred is over. At least, she’s decided, it’s over until she gets over her feelings for him. 
Daphne tries everything in her power to comfort her. She rubs her back, plays with her hair and even puts on ABBA to try and get Y/N to dance just to cheer her up. Y/N feels horrible she’s basically conned Daphne into babysitting her breakdown but Daphne constantly reassures her it’s okay. 
“Do you want me to go beat him up? I might be short and weak and he’s the size of a tree but I could take him.” Y/N sniffles a laugh at this, and smiles. She’s truly grateful for everything Daphne’s been doing for her and she makes a mental note to get her an extra special Christmas present next time she goes to Hogsmeade. 
However, it turns out essentially ending the friendship with Fred ends her friendships with most of the Gryffindors. She was expecting this, but when George can’t even meet her eye in class her heart breaks into even smaller pieces. George has always been like a brother to her, someone she could tell anything too without worry of being judged. He was the first person she told when she realised she liked Fred and Y/N was the first person, besides Fred, that George told his feelings for Alicia for. 
Y/N feels alone but she’s stubborn so she refuses to show it. She sits with Daphne in every class, essentially kicking poor Cassius Warrington who’s been pining after Daphne for 3 years into a different spot in class and she sometimes even sits with Adrian during lunch. It turns out they have a lot more in common than just the fact they’re in Slytherin and pure-bloods and Y/N’s pain in her chest is slowly but surely disappearing. 
While her feelings for Fred still exist, her heart slowly feels like it’s being mended. It’s only when she spots Fred sulking during lunch one day that the ache returns. She was usually the one who he went too when feeling bad- him being too embarrassed to go to George. She hopes he’s okay, but she shakes the idea of approaching him, knowing he’s got Angelina to keep him company. The pang in her chest stays a little bit longer that day. 
-
The Yule Ball arrives quicker than expected and Y/N and Daphne spend all day getting ready with a bunch of other Slytherin students. It’s nice, while they don’t all usually get along, the house loyalty between them is unmistakable. 
Most of them are acutely aware of Y/N’s ‘Weasley Situation’ and while some of them give her pity looks, most of the younger girls have expressed their jealousy that she’s going with Adrian. This makes her laugh and shake her head and she often replies that boys aren’t all that and no boy is worth being jealous over. She feels like a wise mother almost, never wanting them to feel the way she’s felt the past few weeks.
Daphne and Y/N arrive at the Great Hall together, giggling about how bad Y/N is at walking in heels and placing bets on how quick they’re going to come off. While Daphne is counting her galleons in her purse to confirm the bet, Y/N catches a glimpse of Fred and Angelina. He looks so handsome, his dress robes a mixture of gold and black and she can’t help but think how well they’d go together. But when she looks at Angelina she feels like she’s going to pass out.
Angelina is stunning, and there’s no doubt about it. She’s in a floor-length dark purple gown that compliments her skin perfectly and Y/N thinks if Fred was going with anyone to the ball, she’s glad it’s Angelina. 
Cassius and Adrian soon appear by the girls and take their arms into the Great Hall that’s been transformed to look like a winter wonderland. The roof tonight is bewitched to look like a winter, snowy day and Y/N can’t help but admire it. She’s grown up with magic her entire life, but she can’t help but constantly be amazed.
Adrian pulls a flask out of his dress robes jacket which makes Y/N snort and he smiles happily at her. Of course he snuck Firewhiskey into the Ball. The action reminds her of something Fred would do and she shakes her head, trying to get the boy out of her mind, tonight of all nights.
“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” Adrian states as he takes a swig of the flask, and she feels her cheeks heat up. She can hear the sincerity in his voice. “You don’t scrub up so badly either, Pucey.” 
“A dance, m’lady?” He jokingly bows to Y/N and she smiles while she takes his hand and he leads her to the dance floor. As Adrian twirls Y/N around the dance floor, albeit messily because neither of them paid attention in dance classes held by Snape of all people, she forgets about the redhead who’s stare is burning holes into the back of her head.
“You’re a shit date, y’know.” Angelina laughs and Fred’s broken out of his trance. “Shit, Angie, I’m so sorry.” 
Angelina isn’t wrong. She’s a smart girl, and she’s well aware of Fred’s longing stares towards the Slytherin girl. “Did you know? That you wanted to go with her?” Angelina questions, out of sheer curiosity. Even she was shocked when Fred asked her, but she was too dumbfounded when he asked and with everyone watching at dinner, the pressure to say yes was immense but it was not worth all the pain and heartache she’s watched her two friends go through. 
“At the time? No, definitely not. She’s…” He trails off as he tries to find the right words, “She’s always been there, y’know? I just assumed she’d be in my life forever and what we had was what we’d always be… It felt normal, like I didn’t feel the way I feel about her with you, or Katie or Alicia but it felt like that’s how you’re meant to feel about your girl best friend?” 
He looks over at them again, and the gross feeling of jealousy rises in his throat. “But then she said yes to Pucey, and all I can think about is how no one should be holding her but me and that he'll walk her all the way back to her dorm tonight and probably kiss her and I feel like throwing up, and...” He pauses and looks at Angelina and the pity in her eyes is obvious. “And you don’t think about your best friend like this.” 
Angelina watches in pity as Fred clearly drowns his sorrows in pumpkin juice and she drags him onto the dance floor. She’s not letting Fred have a bad night and she refuses to have one as well. Fred is one of her best friends, and even though she might not be the girl he wishes he was here with, she’s determined to cheer him up somehow. 
Fred finally starts to have a good time when he spots George slyly leading Alicia out of the Great Hall and he loudly wolf whistles causing a red hue to form on both their cheeks and George to flip Fred the bird as they leave. Angelina spots Y/N grab her purse across the room while Fred’s distracted and she quietly leaves just after George and Alicia.
Alone.
“Y/N just left, Fred. Alone.” Fred’s confused why Angelina is telling him this when he looks over at Daphne and Adrian, who both look at him like ‘Go you fucking idiot’ and before he can even mutter a goodbye to his friends, he’s out the door almost as fast as George was.
-
He finds Y/N sitting on a bench in the courtyard. She’s looking up at the stars and Fred stars to recall last summer when she visited The Burrow. She spent all night trying to point out constellations to Fred and as he watches her mutter to herself, Fred wonders how he didn’t realise that they were in love this entire time.
He clears his throat, careful not to startle Y/N and when she turns Fred can see the hesitation in her face as she quickly goes to jump up and leave. 
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have stolen the prime make-out spot of the night.” She awkwardly laughs but then quickly realises Fred is alone. “Nevermind… Where’s Angelina?” 
Fred shrugs, and sits down on the bench she was sitting on originally. Y/N stands awkwardly before sitting down next to him. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s missed being close to him. The warmth that radiates off him despite it being the middle of winter causes her to shuffle just that slightly bit closer to him and Fred can’t help but smile. 
“You look beautiful tonight. I know Adrian probably told you already, at least I hope he did, but you deserve to know.” Fred could feel himself rambling and he doesn’t miss the blush that rises across Y/N’s neck and cheeks. It’s the exact same blush that appears whenever he buys her chocolates and his heart soars. 
“Thanks Freddie,” the nickname feels foreign on her tongue, “you look pretty handsome yourself. I hope Angelina told you.” She retaliates and Fred hates it. He hates the awkwardness between them. He wants nothing more to wrap his arms around her and hold her close but they feel like strangers. 
“Thanks,” he laughs and Y/N looks at him confused. “Did you have a good night?”
“Can we not have this awkward small talk? I’m sure Angelina’s waiting for you somewhere.” Fred’s taken aback by her abruptness and stares at her for a few seconds. “What?” She asks when she notices Fred looking at her like she has nine heads.
“Angelina’s not waiting for me. Is Adrian waiting for you?” He asks but he doesn’t want to know the answer. He’s gone through a rollercoaster of emotions these past few weeks and he truly doesn’t want to know if another man is waiting for her to sweep her off her feet and walk back to the Slytherin common room. But when she shakes her head, Fred lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. 
“I need to apologise.” He blurts out and Fred wants to smack himself in the head. This was not the romantic moment he had envisioned in his head as he followed her outside into the courtyard. “I need to apologise for a lot of things. Mostly, for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am, and also for not asking you to the ball and for ruining our friend-” 
“You didn’t ruin our friendship.” She cuts him off but she doesn’t know what else to say. “You didn’t. I did, if anything.” Fred has to stop himself from starting an argument on who ruined the friendship but he wants to backtrack. Did Y/N just ignore him confessing his love to her? 
“Well, I’m still sorry for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am?” He tries again sheepishly and Y/N gives him a double-take. She heard him the first time but she was convinced it was just her ears playing tricks on her or Fred being a menace. After all, this is Fred Weasley in front of her, he’s always looking for a joke and as she’s about to accuse him of pulling a sick, twisted prank on her, she looks at him properly.
And he’s looking as serious as he did the day he told her he plans to open a joke shop with George after they graduate. 
“You’re in love with me?” She asks quietly and her heart is racing again. She thinks back to the day she accidentally confessed to Fred and how she’s spent the last few weeks trying to fall out of love with him just for him to admit he’s fallen in love with her. “Fred, if this is some sick and twisted joke I will never forgive you.” 
Fred almost looks hurt at this, that she thinks he’s capable of something that cruel. So instead of speaking, he softly cups her face in both his hands and runs his thumbs across her cheekbones in a loving manner. He looks her directly in the eyes and Y/N doesn’t think she’s breathed in the last 30 seconds.
She’s been craving being this close to Fred for as long as she can remember. Their lingering touches were never this intimate and right now, she feels like she can look into Fred’s eyes and see into his core, his soul. And he can do the same to her.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, and Y/N gasps before nodding, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips against hers. 
As he leans in his eyes flutter close, as do her’s. Y/N hasn’t kissed a lot of people in her life, but nothing could ever compare to the way she feels right now. The love and adoration Fred is pouring into this kiss almost brings tears to her eyes and she can only hope he can feel the love and adoration she has for him back.
Their lips move in perfect synchrony, neither of them pushing each other too far, but when Y/N drags her fingers through Fred’s hair and he lets out a groan, she can’t help but pull away and giggle. 
“I’ve missed hearing you laugh.” Fred’s arms are now wrapped around her middle and he’s leaning down to press his forehead against hers. Now he has her in his arms, he’s never letting her go. 
“I’ve missed having you make me laugh, Freddie.” She says sincerely and it’s Fred’s turn to blush. He knows they need to eventually leave their little bubble of happiness they finally have but he doesn’t want too. But he knows they need to talk about what happened, about them, what they are and Fred so desperately hopes this means Y/N is his. 
She senses Fred’s thinking and she looks up at him, doe-eyed and innocent and Fred’s heart melts. 
“Stop overthinking.” She mutters, running her hand through his long hair again and Fred almost looks like a cat purring as he feels her fingernails rake across his scalp and he leans into her touch. “Can’t help it. Don’t want to lose you again.” 
Her heart pounds, this is all she’s ever wanted to hear and now she wants to hear it every single day. So she tells him exactly that.
“I’m yours, Freddie. As long as you’re mine? If you don’t know what you want it’s okay, I promise we can take it slow-” Fred cuts her off, laughing as he kisses her again and he feels how warm Y/N’s cheeks are, as she blushes over Fred silencing her with a kiss. When he pulls back, her face is flush, her hair is falling out of her bun. It reminds Fred of that day in the library, except this time, the happiness in her face is unmistakably there, and finally he’s the cause of it. 
“Of course, I’m yours, darling. I’m never letting you go.” 
Late the next morning, when Y/N is trying her best to sneak out of the Gryffindor sixth year boys dormitory with a dark purple hickey adorning her neck, she spots three 4th years whose names she doesn’t even know, giving Ron Weasley five galleons. 
Ron sees her, and smirks. “My bet was at the ball. Thanks, Y/N, you and Freddie boy have made me a very rich man.”
 ---------------------------------------------------
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The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 1
This is my first time publishing any of my reader insert work so don’t be too hard on me. Y/N is a psych student that needs a favor and asks her therapist for help. Lmk if you want to see more.
It was an unmistakable conflict of interest, your relationship with Hannibal. He was your therapist, your mentor, your partner, and many years your senior to boot. You recognized this monumental power imbalance. You put on a façade of embarrassment for the people who expected it; people whose proclivities were done in the shadows and therefore easier to get away with. Why should you be expected to rationalize your loving, mutually beneficial relationship to a person who regularly cheats on her boyfriend?
You'd dated men your own age before, and without fail, you always found yourself waiting for them to grow up. Hannibal made you feel comfortable. Both emotionally and physically. You had a side of his bed and a spot in his arms to fall asleep in every night. Given the choice, you could truthfully say you'd never want to leave his arms.
Like many unlikely relationships, it didn’t start out in the most romantic of ways. Clutching your laptop under your raincoat, you hesitated knocking. Your therapist had, of course, seen you at your lowest points and was sworn to secrecy, but this was a low you didn’t want even him to see. Standing outside of his home, in the so-incredibly-not-business-hours dead of night with mascara running down your face. 
You finally worked up the nerve to knock, telling yourself that he was probably asleep and wouldn’t hear you. This rationalization fell apart when the interior light turned on and the door unlocked. Although you’d been seeing Dr. Lecter for quite a while, his presence never failed to intimidate you. Now it was even worse. His severe expression was fixated on you as he silently awaited an explanation. 
“Dr. Lecter...” You lowered your head and fumbled with your computer. You made a point to kiss your last shreds of dignity goodbye before you opened your mouth again. “...could I please borrow a book?” 
Dr. Lecter narrowed his eyes. “I take it by the hour, this is an urgent matter, Miss [L/N]?”
“My midterm. It’s due in...” You glanced at your watch. “Eight hours.” 
“Well you don’t have a moment to waste, now do you?” Dr. Lecter said, a slight upturn in his voice connoting amusement. “Come in. Let’s find you that book.” 
You felt your muscles relax as he stepped aside to let you in. The house was spacious. Much too large for one person. That was really the only thing you could bring yourself to notice before he shut the door behind you. 
“Now what is this all-important book of yours called?” He asked, pulling your raincoat from your shoulders like he always did. 
“It’s called Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism.” You explained, tucking your computer under your arm. “By Robert Jay Lifton.” 
“You’re in luck, Miss [L/N].” His thin lips turned up into a smile. “I have a copy from my own years as a student.”
You breathed an audible sigh of relief. You tensed your muscles and held in your excitement at the prospect of something finally going according to plan, even if that plan was your third or fourth backup.
You followed him into his office, which reminded you more of Belle’s library than any workspace you’d ever encountered. He must have had thousands of books in this room alone.
“It’s a fascinating read, but not one you could finish in eight hours.” Dr. Lecter's voice echoed from somewhere in the office, getting lost in the books. “Even for the most ravenous of psychology students, of which I know you to be.” 
"Hardly." You muttered under your breath. "If that were the case, I wouldn't be begging for help at 2am before the final paper is due."
"Procrastination is only human, my dear." He assured you, his voice drawing closer. "It's common in those with deep-rooted insecurities about their competency."
"Now that sounds more like me." You joked, leaning back on your heels. "Should you really be trying to validate my bad habits? I feel like that's counterproductive."
"Scolding you would be more counterproductive." He corrected. "You've been scolded many times before and you continue your bad habits. Only when we get to the root of your behavior can you begin to reverse it."
He emerged from the bookshelves and handed you a beat-up copy of Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism, which you graciously accepted. 
“Thank you so much, Dr. Lecter.” You said, placing your hand over your heart. "I owe you my life."
"I'd hardly equate your life to a used book, Miss [L/N]." Dr. Lecter said. "I feel like, as your therapist, we should talk about why you do."
You looked away, smiling sheepishly. "Maybe sometime in daylight. I've taken up enough of your time as it is. I'll get out of your hair now."
"It would take you more time to get back to your dorm that you could use writing." He said, matter-of-factually. "Write your paper in my office."
You looked at him in disbelief. Your judgment was clouded with energy drinks and desperation. So your usual self-sacrificing polite denial was steamrolled by a very enthusiastic acceptance. "I would be forever indebted to you, Dr. Lecter."
"Miss [L/N]," Dr. Lecter cut in. "You're a student, you need to study."
You didn’t really remember a lot of what happened after you wrapped your arms around his waist, too overwhelmed with gratitude to think if an embrace was even appropriate. It was the middle of the night, so you had an excuse if he shoved you off him. But surprisingly, he didn’t. 
You broke the embrace and gathered up your book and computer. “Seriously, I owe you big time for this. You’re really saving my life here.” 
“Go write your paper, [F/N].” He ordered. “We can discuss why you conflate your academics and your life during our next appointment. For now, make yourself at home.”
And that you did. Dr. Lecter retired back to bed and you spent a solid four hours typing away. An antique grandfather clock kept count for you. When you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, you sent the paper off to your professor, editing be damned. You let sleep compel you, comforted by the fact that you didn't have to think about your paper for at least another week before the grading period was over. 
Dr. Lecter’s desk was the most comfortable surface in the world to you that night, because you slept for six hours with only your arms as a pillow. It was the first rest your body had gotten in quite some time. You were gently coaxed awake by the smell of something delicious. 
You followed the smell into a kitchen that could rival those of Michelin-starred restaurants. Dr. Lecter was hard at work, cooking something that enticed your nose. He cracked an egg and looked up at you. “Good morning, Miss [L/N].”
“I’m sorry.” You said, shaking your head shamefully. 
“For?” He asked, fixing his attention back on his recipe.
“Falling asleep.” You dropped your shoulders.
“I told you to make yourself at home, did I not?” He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. This time, he sounded like he was actually going to scold you. “Tell me, do you sleep at your desk at home?” 
“I try not to.” You answer with a shrug. 
“But when you feel yourself falling asleep, you usually put yourself to bed, right?” He continued.
You started to feel a bit stupid. “...yeah.” 
He poked at some sausage links in a frying pan, letting out a sizzle. “You could have taken the couch.”
“I guess I was just too sleepy to think of that.” You explained, preparing to be psychoanalyzed no matter what you said.
“No, you were just too polite to push the imagined boundaries of my invitation.” He concluded, busying his hands with plating whatever it was he was making. His tone was comfortingly familiar. “Miss [L/N], don’t sacrifice your comfort for what you think I perceive to be rude. If I found you rude, you’d know it.”
"I'm sorry." You repeated.
"Don't apologize." He said, reaching for the pepper mill. "I know your anxiety disorder makes you feel like you are a burden. I assure you, you are not. I want you to know for next time that the couch is open. Or you could take the guest bedroom."
You stopped yourself before you could apologize again. You momentarily pondered what he had to say before uttering a quiet but convicted "Thank you."
"You're very welcome." Dr. Lecter slid a plate across the table in your direction. "Eat, my dear."
You didn't need to be told twice. You usually didn’t care for sausage, but reconsidered when you took a bite. The meat was so flavorful and rich, a little noise of delight escaped your lips.
Dr. Lecter smiled, your little moan sending his ego through the roof. “You like it?” 
“It’s delicious.” You put your fork down, your face flush with embarrassment. “Way better than the food at the dining hall.” 
“Miss [L/N],” Dr. Lecter began, putting an extra sausage link on your plate. “If you find yourself in need of psychology texts, I’d be happy to extend my invitation indefinitely.” 
You nearly choked on your eggs. “On god?” 
“Given that you arrive sometime before midnight and perhaps call ahead, yes.” He answered. “Your studies are your life and breath, after all. You would find yourself very accommodated to here.”
This time, you'd really take him up on his offer.
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6sakusa · 4 years
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“why” miya atsumu.
wc : 1.3k
warnings : angst, cheating, implications of a toxic relationship.
part 2
another night alone. another night you reached out to the other side of the bed just to realise nobody was there, another night you had asked yourself why. why weren’t you good enough? why didn’t he want you? why didn’t you fulfil his needs? why did he need someone else? the worst part of it all is how you couldn’t bring yourself to leave even though you knew these past months that he’d been cheating on you. why is that? probably because you were so hopefully infatuated with miya atsumu that you didn’t want to accept reality.
something that you had become an expert in was pretending. everytime he was in your arms you’d revel in his touch as if nothing was wrong, as if he was just as in love with you as you were with him. you were so good at it to the point where he never suspected anything, the thought of you knowing what he was up to with his late night endeavours had never even crossed his mind. not even the time he’d left his phone on the couch and you watched as it lit up with lewd pictures from a girl who was messaging him, not even then did you crack. instead you forced out a smile the moment he had made his way back to the livingroom and watched as he panicked while you feigned confusion. and of course he assumed you hadn’t seen anything, but you had seen everything and he had no idea.
the worst time was perhaps when you had come home early after a week away with your parents to surprise your boyfriend but had instead found him laying in bed- your bed, with another woman.
and now that you couldn’t pretend anymore, now that everything had come crashing down, now that you were completely broken, fed up and tired after receiving another lie from atsumu that he would be practicing late today you weren’t sure what you should do. well that wasn’t true, you were sure but you didn’t know if you could bring yourself to do it.
you sighed to yourself, your breath was shaky as your heart was shattering in your chest and you hadn’t even realised that you were crying. maybe it was because you had finally accepted it, you had finally accepted the truth that you were not enough for miya atsumu. so what was the point hanging around pretending to be? there was none, there was absolutely no reason for you to stay even though all you’d been doing these past months was searching recklessly for one.
your eyes darted towards your phone, you wanted to stop yourself more than anything but when it came to him your body moved by itself. if you were gonna leave you needed one more confirmation, you needed to be more hurt, you needed one more push, you needed-
“hello?” you heard your boyfriends voice echo on the other side of the line as you had absent-mindedly clicked down on the call button. yes, when it came to miya atsumu your body moved by itself indeed. his voice was shaky and you could hear heavy breath and mumbling lingering within the air, it was amazing how much of a fool he took you for. “are you still practicing ‘tsumu? i miss you.” well, maybe you were a fool.
“i miss yer too babe, i’ll be home soon don’t worry - i have to go now, don’t wait up.” lies, it was all lies that dripped right off of his voice, because miya atsumu was a cheating, backstabbing liar who couldn’t even stand being on the phone to you for more than nine seconds. maybe your fault was being too naive and thinking that there was a way to fix things, that one day your boyfriend would finally realise what he had in front of him and wouldn’t want anyone but you, but the realisation was hitting you of how that would never happen and that the truth was he didn’t love you and if he did, he was a sadistic bastard for only causing you pain.
but if you had known all this time then why did it hurt so much? why did your breath hitch in your throat causing a lump to form? why did your stomach tie itself into an irreversible knot? why was hot liquid glossing over your eyes? why were your legs turning weak? why weren’t you enough? it seemed the grief was hitting you in waves, yes grief, because it felt like you were losing a part of yourself. the two of you had been together since college and you couldn’t imagine your life without him, but you’d soon find out.
you sighed pushing yourself out of bed before grabbing everything you could, it hurt when you realised how much atsumu had actually bought for you, did you even want these things anymore? you’d have to get rid of them when you had the chance. it was sickening how someone who had once brought you so much comfort was now the cause of the dull ache embedded within your chest, perhaps it would be easier if you had played it off as if he died, surely it would hurt less than this, you thought, zipping up the first bag you could find.
what was once whole is now shattered; where once was peace is emptiness, echoes of a love you put my everything into and you weren’t sure if you’d ever recover from leaving everything behind. from your ex-lover to your entire home. you wondered how atsumu would react when he came home to find the place completely empty. he’d probably be relieved that he no longer has to tip-toe and sneak around. with you now gone he could fuck any girl he’d like in the comfort of his own home, he wouldn’t have to lie anymore, he wouldn’t have to put up this whole facade, he could just be himself because miya atsumu will always be miya atsumu and there’s nothing you could do to change that.
so with a heavy heart and a poisoned mind you took one last glance at your shared apartment, with a bag full of whatever clothes you could grab quick enough, pocket change in your purse and no idea where you would go you pryed the promise ring atsumu had given you years ago off your fingers. he had promised to always love you, and that he’d always be yours. you scoffed at the thought of it.
“goodbye.” your voice was barely over a whisper as you flicked the light switch causing everything to go dark, the only sounds that remained were your footsteps descending and the droplets of your tears hitting the floor.
what you didn’t know is how miya atsumu broke down in a frenzy at the sight of your ring on the counter and your side of the wardrobe empty. you didn’t know how wrong you were about him not loving you which was only something he’d discovered when you’d left. he couldn’t function without you and was drowning in a never ending pool of regret. he promised himself he’d never bring another girl home, maybe then you would come back, because he still had a chance right? despite not hearing from you in months, having no idea where you were, if you were okay, if you were doing well, if you had found someone else.
“why?” he asked himself, feeling sick when he reflected back on his own actions, he was the fool to lose out on the best thing he ever had and he didn’t know how he was ever going to go on without you. he cursed himself day in and day out, because his life would never be the same.
“why?”
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Booster
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Han and Fem!Reader x Bang Chan
Warnings: language, explicit smut, cheating, indecent affairs, very rich Bang Chan who can be exceedingly arrogant, mentions of alcohol and smoking; aged up characters (especially Chan)
Word Count: 11K
Genre: Marriage AU; Romance AU; Indecent Proposal AU
Summary: You love your husband more than anything else in the world, but the two of you have been arguing lately about your struggling financial situation. Things seem bleak until one night when your husband’s new boss makes you both an offer that you can’t afford to refuse.
A/N: If you’ve seen the movie “Indecent Proposal,” then you know how this goes, but I put my own little spin on the classic! Please enjoy!!
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“Are you happy, Y/N?”
It was a deceiving question, basic in its premise and expectation, but you couldn’t help but falter at the unexpected doubt coloring your vision.
“I guess,” you said.
But why shouldn’t you be? You were in your prime, employed as a freelance writer, and married to your high school sweetheart,
Oh, wait...How could you forget?
You were also preparing to turn thirty-years-old in less than a week, your job wasn’t delivering stable work, and you and your husband had been arguing about the single-digit amount of savings in your join account since last year.
“That’s good to hear,” your therapist said, and you nodded even though it felt misplaced.
You both knew that it was bullshit, but since this was the last session you could afford together, your therapist was clearly trying to use up the rest of your time to her advantage. Maybe it was for the best since you hated seeing her face every Sunday afternoon. 
“Jisung and I are going to Vegas with his company,” you said, startling yourself with the unexpected confession.
“That’s interesting,” your therapist said, leaving the “considering how bad off the two of you are” to fill the empty silence. “I hope you have fun. Take some time to reconnect with him.”
Because surely she had heard enough of you complaining about how your husband could turn into the world’s biggest asshole sometimes when things weren’t going his way. Or when the easy parts of your personal life were feeling far too stressful to be considered healthy. “It’s nice to get away,” you decided to say in place of anything less amiable.
“Feel free to reach out if you ever need me,” your therapist continued, offering you her business card.
“Thanks,” you said, taking it from her with a sigh. “I guess that’s it then.”
“For now,” your therapist agreed, and you left the sterile-white building feeling more burdened than when you had arrived.
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It was late when you got home, and you were even more exhausted than usual, laying next to Jisung in bed as soon as you had changed into comfortable night clothes.
“Do you want to fuck?” Jisung asked later on, taking off his reading glasses to look over at you as you concentrated hard on balancing next month’s budget, including all the money you had put aside for Jisung’s company retreat.
“Not right now,” you said.
“Whatever,” Jisung grumbled, and you ignored the pain in your heart as he turned around to face away from you, turning off his lamp to bathe half of the room in darkness.
“This is too important,” you tried to argue, but Jisung wasn’t listening, and it didn’t take long for him to start snoring.
But he never understood.
“Asshole,” you whispered, gathering your things to settle down in the living room instead. Where you continued working through the night, eyes glossing over from focusing on the numbers for too long, and you were drained the next morning, barely even comprehending Jisung leaving the house for work until you heard the car’s ignition from outside.
It was somewhat of a routine at this point, and you could feel the strain in your marriage, the distance between you and Jisung increasing the longer things continued to grow worse.
Your therapist would tell you to talk things out with him, but you really didn’t feel like arguing with your husband anymore. Instead, you pushed him out of your head and slept for a few more hours before getting up to start your freelance projects. It wasn’t anything difficult, and you finished most of the work by noon, leaving you to clean the house and wait by the phone in case a potential client called you with an assignment.
But the problem was the phone never rang, and you were hardly getting any work to support your shared household income.
It was a frequent point of contention, and Jisung had been begging you to take on a full-time position for months.
Maybe you should. 
Maybe it would make him happier.
But why did it feel like his happiness was always prioritized over your own?
Damn, you were starting to sound just like your former therapist.
“I made dinner,” you told him when he got home that evening, and even though it was obvious that he was wore-out, Jisung met you in the kitchen with a forced smile.
“It smells good,” he said, and there was a longing in his eyes, one that you also shared but could never fulfill.
And no amount of sex ever made it any better, but that sure as hell didn’t stop the two of you from trying to use it as an excuse to pretend that the problem didn’t exist elsewhere. “Shit, Sungie,” you gasped, nails digging into the smooth skin of his back as he fucked you on top of the counter, legs spread wide around his waist as he pummeled his hips into yours.
“Yes!” Jisung moaned, eyes rolling into the back of his head as your tight walls constricted around his length - pure, velvet warmth. “God, you’re perfect.”
“Harder!” you cried, trying to meet each of his thrusts, but finding it impossible to touch his animalistic pace, brutally stretching your pussy around him. The good kind of stretch that left you gaping long after you both came, lingering throughout the night and well into the morning as you limped around the house.
It ached and hurt, persistent and demanding, but there was always a desire for more, even when it was impossible to fulfill those empty places. But that didn’t stop you from trying, winding your fingers through Jisung’s hair to pull him closer, smashing your mouths together for a brutal kiss that only served to stoke the flames of passion sparking between the two of you. Something hot and raunchy, delicious in the exchanges of precious oxygen and the thin cord of saliva that remained when Jisung pulled back to look at you. “You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, parting your thighs around his hips as he studied the place where he was driving his cock between the delicate folds of your swollen labia. “Look at how well you take me.”
“Please,” you whimpered, unsure as to what you wanted from him, but it was always too much and never enough. 
“I want you to come first,” Jisung said, sucking the pad of his thumb into his mouth before bringing it down against your clit. 
“Oh!” you gasped because the secondary stimulation was proving to be the necessary catalyst to unwind you from the inside, and you could feel your orgasm growing stronger by the second. 
“That’s it, baby,” Jisung groaned, throwing back his head as he worked on moving his hips faster, thrusting his erection with as much power as he could manage while focusing on digging harsh circles against the tight little bud between your legs.
“Coming!” you cried, closing your eyes against the first wave of pleasure, moaning when Jisung lifted your legs higher around his waist, slamming his cock between your pulsating walls. 
It was a divine high, the kind that left a deep impression, riding the euphoria of your orgasm until you could feel your heart practically vibrating against your chest, leaving you breathless and throbbing in the place where Jisung continued to grind his cock. “I’m close,” he said, grunting as his hips stuttered in place, and you watched him fall over you as a familiar warmth escaped from where his cock was softening.
“S’ good,” you managed around a deep breath, trying to bring yourself back to Earth.
“You’re always so good for me,” Jisung said, eyes glossy with lust as he parted your lips around his fingers.
You puckered your lips, sucking hard and leaving him groaning. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“I know, Y/N, and I love you,” Jisung said, holding himself up while panting over you, eyes dark and devoted.
“I love you too,” you replied on instinct, keeping him close while the two of you basked in the afterglow of your passionate lovemaking.
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One Week Later
It was raining at the airport, but you were in a good mood while following Jisung through the crowded terminal. “Are you excited?” he asked you once you stood in line to board the plane.
“Of course,” you replied, accepting his gentle kiss before he held out your tickets for the flight attendant.
But why shouldn’t you be? You had never been to Vegas before, and you were beyond excited for the trip, even if it had been painful to budget with your lousy combined incomes. 
“I’m gonna treat you so good, baby,” Jisung whispered to you on the plane, finalizing his promise with another heart-stopping kiss.
“I love you,” you said, smiling when you heard the words in return.
It was always a promise that you could both keep, no matter how hard things got in your lives, and you could always rely on Jisung even when your own mind turned against you. Sure, it would be nice to have more financial stability, but the two of you would eventually achieve that goal, just as long as you kept working hard.
The idea of being happy all the time seemed impossible, and you were grateful for what you had, holding tightly to Jisung’s hand as he hailed down a taxi cab to take you to your hotel upon your arrival in Vegas.
“A couple’s retreat?” the driver asked when you were both settled inside.
“Something like that,” Jisung agreed, and it was half-way true, even if Jisung’s company was the main reason you were both enjoying the unfamiliar sights of the Vegas strip - blinding lights, crowded streets, and loud music. Everything was organized chaos, and you could see why so many people loved it.
“It’s beautiful,” you said to Jisung when your taxi cab arrived at your hotel.
“What do you want to do first?” Jisung asked, taking both of your suitcases as you led the way to check-in.
“Do you have to meet with your co-workers?” you asked, reminding yourself that this trip had a larger reason behind it.
“Not until the morning,” Jisung laughed, and he signed the copy of the room notice before dragging you to the elevators. “It’s you and me tonight, baby. Wanna check out the poker tables?”
You rolled your eyes because you both knew that Jisung had no idea how to play cards. “Looking around sounds nice.”
“Whatever you want,” Jisung promised, and after your things were settled in your lavish suite, he made good on escorting you around the impressive gambling floor - nothing but slot machines with bright color sequences and a vast expanse of tables with every kind of game you could want. 
It was almost too much to look at, and you were grateful to focus on one thing when Jisung paused next to the craps table. “Do you want to try?” you asked, smirking at the curious look in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said, giving you a quick kiss before exchanging a twenty for some chips. “I’ll put it all on Pass.”
“Pass!” the dealer said, dragging Jisung’s chips closer. “Your roll.”
Jisung grabbed the dice from the table, bringing them closer to you with a smirk. “Kiss for good luck?”
You rolled your eyes, but entertained his request, brushing your lips against his knuckles before pulling back and watching him flick his wrist as the dice bounced across the table. “Seven!” the dealer announced, and you and Jisung were both surprised to win, watching as two piles of chips were pushed in your direction. 
“Holy shit!” you gasped, and Jisung nodded his agreement, taking all the chips before bidding the dealer a good night. “Did you see that?” you asked, unable to stop yourself from giggling as Jisung pocketed the chips. 
“I guess I have enough to treat you to a drink,” he said, and you followed him to the bar where he ordered you both something strong.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” you asked him, feeling far more jubilant than before as you downed most of the contents, wincing at the sting.
“You need to loosen up,” Jisung said. “I know you’ve been planning for the trip, so I want you to enjoy yourself.”
“Cheers to that!” you said, tapping your glass against Jisung’s and enjoying the rest of your drink.
And for a while, you actually found yourself letting go of all the worries leading up to the vacation, drinking and laughing with your husband as you played on some of the slot machines and observed some of the more serious poker games. 
The alcohol sat pleasantly on your stomach, and you were losing yourself to the buzz dulling most of your anxieties. “Jisung,” you said at one point, leaning closer to him as you sat together outside by the pool. “You look really good tonight.”
Jisung smiled, bringing you in for a kiss that turned heated despite the people surrounding you. “Slow down, baby,” Jisung said, breaking your exchange and ignoring your pout.
“Let’s go to the room,” you said, lowering your tone as you trailed one finger down his toned arm.
“Maybe later,” Jisung said, but he dangled the key in front of you. “If you want, then you can go upstairs.”
“You don’t want to come?” you asked with a pout.
“I’ve been watching,” Jisung admitted with a shrug. “I know we’ve been having a lot of problems with money, but I think I can take what we brought and turn it into enough to end most of our debt.”
“Jisung,” you said, sobering up in an instant. “What if you lose?”
“Don’t worry,” he said, and you could tell that he had already made up his mind. “I know when to stop.”
“Okay,” you agreed, but it was a reluctant acquiescence because you wanted nothing more than to have him in your arms. “I’ll see you later.”
“Have fun, baby,” Jisung said, and you frowned when he slid you his credit card. “Call room service and take care of yourself.”
“Sure,” you agreed, pocketing the card since you had no intention of using it. “Call me if you need anything.”
Jisung nodded, waving you off as he rose from his chair, and you watched with an overhanging sense of dread as he rejoined the crowded gambling room.
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You waited for as long as you could, but midnight trickled by with no sign of your husband returning to the room.
Eventually, you must’ve fallen asleep from the excitement, and you only woke-up again the next morning when you attempted to reach out for Jisung in bed next to you, only to discover empty space.
“Sungie?” you said, filling the empty room with your voice.
But you could’ve sworn you had heard the door open at one point, so you dressed yourself and ventured out of the bedroom.
Your Vegas suite was fairly large, and the bedroom was connected to the main room by a narrow hallway with another room on the opposite end. Maybe Jisung had slept in the wrong room on accident?
It seemed plausible, until you heard the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen, and you quickly followed the noises to find your husband bent over the counter, head hanging low.
“Jisung, what’s wrong?” you asked, approaching your husband to soothe a hand down his back.
But you were completely unprepared for the way he began to lash out.
“I lost it, okay?” he snapped, jerking himself into an upright stance. “All the money we brought, I blew it on the slot machines.”
“Jisung-”
“Fuck, I can’t believe it!” Jisung shouted, interrupting your attempt to speak. “I was doing so well, and I didn’t even realize things were going bad until I almost used our bank card to pull out more money.”
You exhaled harshly, realizing that if Jisung had spent all of your money, then he also accessed some of your savings since you had brought extra cash in case of an emergency. “Oh my god.”
You stumbled back against the wall, holding your chest because you could feel the start of a panic attack taking root. But how else were you supposed to react to Jisung’s confession? He had spent all the money you would both need to pay rent and buy important necessities.
“This is so screwed up,” Jisung growled, rubbing a rough hand across his disheveled face. 
“That was everything,” you said, swallowing hard as your detail-oriented brain attempted to come up with an alternative, but you saw no light on the other end.
“Y/N,” Jisung said, and his voice was calmer as he looked at you. “I’m so sorry. I thought I could make things better.”
“But you made them worse,” you said, closing your eyes against an onslaught of tears, feeling as if your entire world was crashing down around you.
“Baby, no,” Jisung said, hurrying over to catch you before your body crumbled to the floor. “We’ll be okay, you know? I can always take out a loan.”
“To pay for the other loans?” you asked in a much harsher tone that you usually reserved for your husband.
“I promise I’ll make it better,” Jisung said, and he groaned when his phone started ringing. “It’s my boss again. He wanted to meet me in his room this morning.”
Jisung silenced the call, holding your face between his hands. “I promise nothing bad will happen to us, and maybe I can ask my boss for an advance on my next paycheck to help cover expenses.”
Your brain knew better than that, understanding that one paycheck wouldn’t cover those lost savings, but this was Jisung. Your sweet and kind husband, and you didn’t feel like arguing. “Okay,” you said, accepting the gentle kisses he pecked along your wet lashes.
“We’ll figure this out,” Jisung said. “But let’s not worry about it until we get back home. Can you put some clothes on for me, baby? I want you to come meet my boss with me.”
“Yeah,” you said, nodding your head as you allowed Jisung to lead you both back into the bedroom.
“Everything will be fine,” Jisung said, and you allowed him to delude your mind even though nothing could be further from the truth.
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Jisung’s boss was a powerful man named Mr. Bang, and his net-worth made Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk pale in comparison.
You were nervous to meet him, and it didn’t help that you were still upset from earlier.
“Deep breaths,” Jisung instructed you when he knocked on Mr. Bang’s door. “Don’t worry about anything.”
It was easy for him to say since everything was his fault, but you swallowed down your anger and pasted on your best smile when the door opened - revealing an older gentleman with dark brown hair and eyes, wrinkles edging some of the corners of his features, exposing the effects of age.
But he was still undeniably handsome, and his eyes took a long moment to gloss over you. “Mr. Han,” Mr. Bang said, finally looking away from you. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“Of course, sir,” Jisung said, placing his hand on your lower back as you were both invited inside. “It’s been a rough morning.”
“Oh?” Mr. Bang questioned, following you both into the main room. “Why is that?”
You held your breath when Jisung hesitated. “Just some money stuff.”
“Ah,” Mr. Bang acknowledged. “It’s personal.”
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Jisung insisted, and Mr. Bang shrugged off his coat as he accepted the reassurance, reaching for a pack of cigars.
“Well, I’m excited to talk with you this morning. Would you both like to join me in the other room? I heard that Jisung enjoys playing pool.”
“Absolutely,” Jisung agreed with a smile - one that managed to disguise all the horrible realities that existed outside of this impeccable suite.
You took another deep breath, fixing a smile in place when Mr. Bang turned to look at you. “This must be your wife.”
“Y/N,” you said, holding out your hand for him, and trying not to feel disconcerted by the obvious interest in his gaze.
“Y/N,” he repeated, looking back ahead of himself as he brought you both into a far simpler room - sparsely furnished with the exception of the pool table in the middle of the area. “Do either of you mind if I smoke? It’s a bad habit.”
He chuckled at the end, waiting for your combined approval before lighting one of the cigars and bringing it to his lips.
“You’re welcome to go first,” Mr. Bang said, selecting one of the pool sticks against the wall. “I’d love to be informal with you.”
“That sounds great,” Jisung said, and you watched him bend over the table as he broke the balls at the center, sending them flying in all directions. “I was really honored to receive your invitation.”
“Were you?” Mr. Bang asked with a smile. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“You’re a bit of an enigma around the office, Mr. Bang,” Jisung said, and his boss chuckled in response.
“Please, call me Chan,” he continued, taking his turn at the table after Jisung missed his shot, cigar dangling from his lips. “How are you both enjoying Vegas?”
“I think we’re having a lot of fun,” Jisung said, and the response irritated you a little as you cleared your throat, nose wrinkling as some of the cigar smoke reached you.
“It’s quite beautiful,” you said, and Chan found your eyes after landing his first shot.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed. “You know, Jisung, you talk about me being an enigma around the office. Why is that?”
You flinched at the sound of the balls smashing together, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you focused on your husband. “Well,” Jisung shrugged. “I think it’s because you have so much more than the rest of us. Not that it’s a bad thing.” 
“Really?” Chan asked, standing up straight as he shot you a knowing look. “You do have something that I don’t have.”
You found yourself blushing at the comment, and Jisung studied his boss with narrowed eyes. “I guess there’s a limit to what money can buy.”
“Not mine,” Chan said, putting out the cigar with a satisfied smirk. “I can afford anything.”
You didn’t like his attitude, finding yourself jumping into the conversation without being provoked. “Some things aren’t for sale,” you said, watching as Chan bent over the pool table once again.
“Like what?” he asked.
“Well, you can’t buy people,” you said, and he stood tall again with a sigh.
“That’s naïve of you, Y/N,” he said. “I buy people everyday.”
“I don’t mean in business,” you argued. “I meant something more like...when your emotions are involved.”
“So, you can’t buy someone’s love?” Chan questioned, and you didn’t like the way he was laughing. “Jisung, I hope you don’t feel the same way.”
“Of course,” Jisung said, shaking his head. “I agree with Y/N.”
“Really?” Chan smiled. “Then, maybe we should put that to the test.”
“What do you mean?” Jisung asked, and he exchanged a quick look with you - one filled with uncertainty.
“How much?” Mr. Bang asked.
“How much?” Jisung repeated, and he studied his boss with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”
Mr. Bang chuckled, and you frowned at the obvious condescension. “I mean, how much for one night with your wife?”
“Oh...” Jisung trailed off, and the room quickly filled with silence - awkward and heavy.
“Why so tense?” Chan eventually asked, and you shook your head because he knew exactly why the two of you were suddenly less than enthusiastic.
“You can’t be serious,” Jisung eventually said, reaction surprisingly neutral.
“I’m completely serious,” Chan continued, never breaking a sweat as he continued to take his turn at the pool table. “I’ll give you $1,000,000 dollars,” Chan said. “That would be enough to keep you in a life of luxury.”
“Sir,” Jisung said, and you could tell that he was caught off-guard, trying to find the right words to prevent offense to his boss, but you didn’t have to extend the same courtesy.
“No,” you said, keeping your tone firm. “He would tell you to go to hell.”
“I didn’t hear that from him,” Chan said, and you fixed Jisung with the sternest glare you could manage.
“Yeah,” Jisung said. “I’d tell you to go to hell.”
Chan sighed, pocketing the coveted eight ball with a quick motion. “I guess that proves me wrong, then,” Chan said. “But I’ll at least say this: $1,000,000 dollars is a lifetime of security. Think about it, talk it over first, and then you can forget all about this conversation.”
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It should’ve been over after that without any further consideration, but you were disappointed to see that Jisung was still distracted as you sat together in your room later that night - long after leaving Chan’s suite.
“You’re still thinking about it,” you said, drawing his attention.
“Of course not, baby,” he said, but it wasn’t convincing.
“Would you seriously be okay with me spending the night with some pompous billionaire? you huffed. “He would obviously want to fuck me.”
“Well, I can’t say I blame him,” Jisung tried to joke, but the situation was far too serious.
“Sungie...”
“Look, I get it, Y/N. Marriage is sacred, and I respect you for that, but we both can’t ignore how much this would change our lives! It’s a million fucking dollars.”
“He’s an old perv,” you growled. “Would you seriously sell me out?”
“That’s not what this is,” Jisung argued. “I’m not selling you out.”
“Sleeping with a stranger for a million dollars is selling me out,” you said. “I don’t even like him...”
“It’s fine,” Jisung interrupted. “It was just a made-up scenario, and I would never force you to do anything.”
“Good,” you said, turning on your side to switch off the lamp. “He can’t just expect that from someone. It’s crazy!”
“I know, baby,” Jisung whispered quietly to you, and you knew that you were both exhausted from the chaos of your day together.
Sleep was what you needed, but it wasn’t coming. 
Instead, you were loathe to admit that your mind had returned to that indecent proposal from Jisung’s boss, thinking about the last thing he said.
One lifetime of security.
You would never have to worry about money again...but what about your relationship? Would it suffer because of such an illicit affair?
You tossed and turned all night, feeling Jisung do the same thing.
Think about it.
God, that’s all you were doing, and when the sun was starting to rise again from the coverage of your blinds, you rolled over to look at Jisung, unsurprised to see him wide-awake. “If we do this,” you said, “it wouldn’t mean anything.”
“Of course not,” Jisung said. “It would still be the two of us against the rest of the world.”
You nodded, studying the gentle brown of Jisung’s eyes. The weight of such a consequential decision hung over both of your heads, and you sucked up every last ounce of pride you had when you came to a conclusion: “Call him,” you said, and Jisung’s eyes widened. “Tell him we’ll take the money.”
“Y/N, are you sure?” Jisung asked, and he was cautiously reaching out for his cellphone.
“I’m sure,” you said, although you didn’t feel as confident as you would like, turning onto your back to study the ceiling overhead.
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The date and time were arranged for the following evening, and you could barely meet Chan’s gaze when he met you outside his suite.
“Just relax,” he whispered to you, inviting you outside onto the extended balcony attached to his penthouse where he proceeded to pour two glasses of champagne.
The cold air of the night hit you in the face like a firm slap, forcing you from the haze you had surrendered to when you first walked into the room. A wake-up call that this was happening, and the man next to you was not your husband.
You nearly drained your first glass of champagne, feeling the alcohol give you some much-needed courage. “Y/N,” Chan said, standing next to you in a suit that likely cost more than your and Jisung’s last paychecks combined. “I want to ask you what your expectations are of this evening.”
You shrugged, staring out over the bannister. “I thought we were just gonna fuck,” you replied, even if the words were a little crude.
Chan laughed at your comment. “Is that so?”
“I don’t see what’s funny,” you said. “You’re the one who has to buy women.”
“You think I have to buy women?” Chan asked. “Because that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
You hesitated, sensing him growing closer. “Why me, then?”
“I bought you because you said you couldn’t be bought,” Chan replied, stepping closer to drop his hand on top of yours.
“I can’t be bought,” you argued, even though everything leading up to this moment was proving the contrary.
“Really?” he asked, and you begrudgingly shook your head.
“I don’t know why I’m doing this.”
“You might enjoy yourself,” Chan said with a seductive smirk. “This isn’t meant to be a punishment.”
“I know that,” you said, holding your breath when his lips touched the shell of your ear.
“Damn, you’re unbelievably gorgeous,” Chan said, and his free hand was trailing down your spine. “Come with me into the bedroom.”
You gave him a shaky nod, following him back inside while taking in several deep breaths as you greeted the darkness of the room, discarding your champagne on the side table. “What now?”
“Take off your dress,” Chan said, and you squinted your eyes to see him falling down into one of the chairs.
Despite the cold air of the night, everything inside was heating up again.
“Okay,” you whispered, reaching back for your zipper, and holding it between trembling fingers as you unhitched the material, allowing it to fall down your body like an avalanche of blue as it pooled around your ankles.
You heard Chan’s sharp intake of breath, feeling his eyes trail over every inch of your lingerie-clad form. “Get on the bed,” he said, and you obeyed at once, trying to make yourself comfortable on top of the mattress.
But it was hard when you noticed Chan approaching the bedside, removing his jacket and shirt to reveal a lean, muscular torso - one that had undoubtedly been built after long hours in the gym. “This is my favorite part,” Chan said, shoving down his jeans and boxers without shame, and his cock sprang up against his abdomen with an impressive girth. “I like to see the way a woman’s eyes look at me. How their breath hitches when I touch them for the first time.”
He followed through on his promise, sliding his fingers down the smooth skin of your stomach with a feather-like touch before they paused at the waistband of your panties. “Take these off,” he said, and you did your best to wrangle off the flimsy fabric, pushing it aside with your toes as Chan’s eyes zeroed in on your delicate mound. “When I fuck a woman, I make sure she comes...several times.”
You shivered at that, hearing his tone grow huskier as he instructed you to open your thighs, giving himself enough room to crawl on the bed and settle down between your open legs. It was already so revealing, and you couldn’t believe you were in this position, exposing everything to him. “Do you use protection?” he asked, and you nodded. “I’d like to fuck you raw, but only with your consent.”
You nodded again, gasping when his long, thin fingers started to carefully penetrate you, scissoring around your entrance - teasing curls that did nothing but trigger your body’s instinctual arousal. Especially as the room around you continued to grow warmer, almost as hot as Chan’s lips as they scalded your skin, lifting one of your legs higher against his arm.
“You deserve to be worshipped,” Chan whispered against your thigh. “If I had a woman like you, I’d do my best to make you happy.”
“Fuck,” you couldn’t help but curse, feeling him use his other hand to start moving his fingers even faster, gliding them against the greedy walls of your pussy as your body demanded you for more of the sweet addiction.
There was already a light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, and your heart was beating faster and faster, matching the pace of his fingers. Eventually, he leaned down to take your clit between his lips, dropping your thigh back onto the mattress before sucking hard and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. 
You gasped, hips arching without your approval, grinding closer to the source of that immeasurable pleasure. It was wet and sensual, creating the gentlest of sensations that traveled all the way to your toes.
You could feel Chan smirking, lips barely touching your clit before he properly opened his mouth wide to lave his tongue across the throbbing area. It felt so good, and you were practically humping his face to gain more of his delicious mouth.
He was learning your signs, hands holding your waist as he listened to every hitch of your breath, knowing when to speed up and slow down. It was like a well-rehearsed dance, swipes of his tongue across your folds, pressing firmly against your clit when he returned to the delicate organ. 
It felt like pure heaven, bringing you higher and higher to a much-needed release, and it had been a long time since a man had made you experience such white hot lust from just his tongue.
“Cum for me,” Chan whispered, and he nipped at your clit, and the tinge of pain was enough to send you spiraling into your first orgasm of the night.
“Oh!” you groaned, grabbing his hair to pull him back when his sucking was starting to feel too painful right after coming so hard.
“What a good girl,” Chan said, looking down at you with a sheen of arousal coating his lips. 
It was obscene, forcing you to close your eyes against the image, but you cried out when he pinched one of your nipples, causing you to open them again. 
“Do me a favor and look at me while I’m fucking you, Y/N,” Chan murmured, hooded gaze meeting your struggling one - trying not to succumb to his advances, even though he was making it incredibly hard, wrist almost imperceptible with the way he was stretching you open again, pussy gaping as you felt yourself leaking uncontrollably.
“I’ll try,” you whispered, heart thundering against your chest as Chan removed his fingers only to align his cock with your entrance, dipping just the tip into your eager heat.
“Moan for me as much as you want,” Chan said, and he was bottoming out without hesitation, moving slow to prevent any pain while you got used to the stretch.
It was different from how Jisung fucked you, thrusting into you impossibly fast from the very first moment he impaled you on his cock. 
There was something caring about it, and you adjusted quickly to Chan’s girth, grinding your hips subtly just to feel very inch of his generous erection. “Good girl,” Chan cooed, and he brought his cock to a deeper roll, moving back to leave only the head before forcing himself inside once again, picking up speed as your moans continued to grow louder in volume, signaling your approach to a second release.
It was beyond amazing, and you swallowed down your embarrassment from the noises he was punching from your lungs, opening your eyes as he started to move even faster, thrusting his cock between your legs at a rhythmic pace.
He was hitting your g-spot on every deep penetration, granulating in and out at a steady pace that was so unbelievably fulfilling.
You never expected it feel this good, slick from your pussy gushing at an embarrassing rate, creating an even smoother slide. But the squelching sounds were incredibly loud, filling your ears just like his cock was filling your cunt...the best kind of fullness.
You were being stroked just right, moaning when Chan shifted his hips to thrust into you at a new angle, holding your legs over his shoulders as he practically bent you in half.
His lips were warm when they connected with yours, and there was a strange desire to sink into the kiss and lose yourself there forever. But your pussy was throbbing with need - an impossible want for the man reaching all the way to your cervix.
It felt amazing when his fingers brushed across your sensitive clit, rubbing generous circles against the tight nub. He started snapping his hips at a faster rate, slapping against your hips with every thrust, holding onto your hips with a bruising grip that would leave reminders of him for days. 
But maybe that was his intention.
Chan growled, plunging into your sore cunt time and time again. He was practically pounding you with how hard he was going, like he was trying to prove a point, and maybe he wanted to since nothing could have ever prepared you for how euphoric his cock was making you feel.
“Are you gonna cum again?” Chan whispered, gazing so fondly into your eyes.
You couldn’t speak, only managing a nod when he started to rub even faster at your clit, and you let out the loudest moan of the night when you were unraveling yet again, sinking into a third orgasm that left you drained.
It was a rollercoaster of overstimulation, and Chan realized this and gave a few stuttered kicks of his hips before he was filling you up with his cum, groaning and grunting as he leaned over you.
Your legs were numb from being spread wide for so long, and you weren’t sure that you would ever catch your breath, listening to the sound of Chan whispering sweet endearments from next to you as you realized that nothing would ever be same after this.
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The next morning, you woke-up alone, but there was a note waiting for you on the nightstand.
Y/N,
Join us in the kitchen when you’re ready.
- Chan
“Us?” you repeated aloud, feeling a sense of dread as you stumbled on weak legs to gather your clothes.
You were incredibly sore between your legs, a reminder that last night actually happened, and you had slept with your husband’s boss for a big paycheck.
“It’s worth it,” you tried to reassure yourself, walking from the bedroom and into the kitchen with a subtle limp. “Nothing will change.”
But hindsight is 20/20, and you can’t predict the future. Still, your first sign should’ve been the strange image of Chan and Jisung sitting together in the kitchen, like they were having a casual breakfast together,
“There you are!” Chan greeted you upon your arrival, but you barely paid him any attention, eyes immediately finding Jisung’s.
Your husband was sitting next to Chan at the table, and there was a buffet of food displayed on elegant kitchenware. “What’s going on?”
“Breakfast,” Chan said, indicating towards the empty chair next to Jisung. “Please join us.”
You nodded, finally breaking your intense stare-down with Jisung to carefully sit down next to him.
Suddenly, it was difficult to acknowledge his presence, memories of last night resurfacing and causing you to blush at the obscene images. “I hope you slept well,” Chan said, and his plate was completely covered as he ate without a single care in the world. “Last night...it was amazing, Y/N.”
You could feel Jisung shift from next to you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look at him. “Chan-”
“As promised,” Chan interrupted as he reached into the pocket of his expensive suite jacket, producing a thin slip of paper, and he slid the check in Jisung’s direction. “Thank you both for everything.”
“Sure,” Jisung said, and his tone was short as he grabbed the check and immediately stood from the table. “We should get going.”
“So soon?” Chan questioned, mouth stuffed impossibly full. “You’re more than welcome to anything you want.”
“We’re fine,” Jisung insisted, and he took your hand with a firm grip. “I know you’ll understand, Mr. Bang.”
“Ah!” Chan grinned. “Formalities again?”
But Jisung ignored him, turning to look at you with a gleam in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher. “Let’s go home,” Jisung said, and he tried for a smile which you couldn’t match as he led the two of you as far from Bang Chan as you could manage.
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Tragically, your return home was nothing triumphant, and it should’ve felt so good to finally pay off so many bills and debts.
But it didn’t.
Everything felt hollow inside.
You also couldn’t help but notice that it was becoming increasingly difficult to talk to Jisung. Because every time you looked into his eyes, you were reminded of your impassioned affair in Vegas. It wasn’t fair to either of you, but you had no idea how to fix your relationship.
How could this be fair? You no longer had money problems forcing that divide between the two of you? In fact, you had no problems at all, and you were both entertaining the idea of moving into a bigger place and quitting your jobs.
So, what was missing? What was wrong with the way things were now that your joint account was filled to the maximum?
The answer was obvious, but you both refused to talk about it, and every second spent in each other’s company only served to carve an even deeper rift. Something so painful that you could barely share the same bed as your husband.
You couldn’t believe that things were so bad, even a month after your night with Chan, and nothing was going right. But what could you do? There was no easy solution, and it certainly didn’t help when you received a phone call from an unknown number one morning, accepting it with hesitation, only to be greeted with a strikingly familiar tone: “Hello, Y/N,” Chan said from the other end, and you immediately sat down on the edge of your bed.
“Chan?”
“How are you?” Chan asked with a pleasant tone. “I thought I might check in on my favorite couple.”
You frowned at his mocking tone. “Thanks, but we’re fine.”
“I’m glad to hear that! And I hope the money goes a long way for you and Jisung,” Chan said, and you clenched the phone tighter between your hands.
“It’s been helpful,” you said, even though the words didn’t seem to match the life you were currently living.
“Well, I’m in town for lunch this afternoon,” Chan continued. “I thought it might be nice just to catch up with you. Would you care to join me?”
You hesitated, looking around your empty bedroom with desperate eyes. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea...”
“Oh, please it’s just one lunch,” Chan said, and it was almost impossible to resist him. But that must be why he was such a good businessman. “One lunch.”
You sighed, already feeling yourself giving in to him. “One lunch,” you agreed, parroting back the response because it felt like your body was moving on auto-pilot, having lost the familiar spark ever since you came back from Vegas.
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Chan’s chosen location was a gorgeous downtown restaurant that had more Michelin stars than the places you sometimes watched on TV.
It was beyond elegant, and you found Chan waiting for you at the door after having a car bring you to him. “Good morning,” he said with a cheeky tone, meeting you halfway as he offered his arm to you - the perfect gentleman.
“This was unexpected,” you said, allowing him to escort you inside, greeting the man at the front who seemed to instantly recognize Chan, leading you both to a private room away from the others.
“I wanted to do this,” Chan said. “I thought we could talk a little.”
“Is that it?” you asked, taking the menu and gaping at the immense prices.
Chan seemed to notice, smiling at your awed expression. “Have anything you want,” Chan said. “I’m buying.”
“Oh, I can’t possibly let you do that...” you said because then it would feel like a date, and that was as far from what you wanted as possible.
“Don’t concern yourself,” Chan said. “Everything is good here, and you deserve it.”
You weren’t sure that you liked the sound of that, but you didn’t complain as you requested that he order something for both of you instead of trying to interpret the gauche-sounding entrees. 
“Now,” Chan said once your waiter left the room. “Let’s talk about you.”
“Me?” you questioned, sipping gingerly at your water glass. “What about me?”
“I want to know everything,” Chan said. “All of it.”
“Everything?” you repeated, shrugging as you blushed. “There’s not much to tell.”
“I can hardly believe that,” Chan said. “What about your job?”
“I’m a freelance writer,” you said, nodding when you realized that he was genuine. “Kinda hard in the city though.”
“But you’re doing what you love?” Chan asked, and he grinned at your confirmation. “Then that’s all that matters.”
Could it be so simple? you wondered, remembering all the countless arguments you and Jisung had shared because, according to him, your job was hardly considered career-worthy. “I love writing.”
“Then you must be a big reader,” Chan remarked. “All the best writers are.”
You swooned at his smooth conversation. “I have shelves full of the classics.”
“What’s your favorite?” Chan asked.
“Jane Eyre,” you admitted, and Chan raised a brow.
“I like that about you,” he said. “It fits: the idea of a bright young woman falling in love with the enigmatic billionaire.”
You met his gaze, recalling how Jisung had aligned the term “enigmatic” with Chan on the night you made your unholy deal. Was there a deeper meaning, then? “I love the prose,” you replied instead, thinking the subject might return to Chan. 
But it never did. In fact, Chan kept all the questions about you, engaging you in a way that you had never experienced with another man. Like he cared so much about the person underneath, and his probing gaze was seeing past the outside in a way that spoke to your very soul.
And you couldn’t help but compare him to Jisung: a very dangerous thing to do.
“That was nice,” you said after you had both eaten. “It was good to see you again.”
“I agree,” Chan said, ever the businessman as his hand fell low around your waist, taking you back outside the restaurant. “Should we make plans for tomorrow?”
You almost laughed, until you read his expression and realized that he was serious. “What?”
“Y/N,” Chan said, and his tone was intense. “I can’t stop thinking about Vegas.”
“Chan,” you whined, trying to pull away, but his hold was firm. 
“If you were with me,” Chan purred, and it was a lethal sound that was as smooth as the hand traveling up and down your back. “I could give you everything you wanted and more.”
“I can’t,” you insisted, and there was an image of Jisung in your head when you managed to escape him. “That was only one time.”
“I think you and I both know that it meant more than that,” Chan said, and you could deny it all you wanted, but there was an insistent throbbing at the back of your skull.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you lied, ignoring the scoff that escaped him while calling for the valet to bring the car Chan had organized for you.
“At least take my business card,” Chan said, and he was holding the small piece of printed paper out for you, but you knew that going down that path would only make things worse.
“I can’t accept it,” you said, returning your attention to the valet as he opened the back door.
“That’s a shame,” Chan said, but he was as persistent as ever, leaning close to press a kiss across your cheek. “You can always call me. If you ever need anything.”
You nodded, feeling somewhat disoriented as you sat down against the leather seat, swallowing hard when you could still see Chan from the rearview mirror.
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By the time you returned home, it was already late, and you were glad to see Jisung when you sat your purse down onto the counter. “Hey,” you said, and Jisung glanced up from where he was reading the newspaper.
“Hey,” he replied. “How was lunch?”
You swallowed hard because you hadn’t told Jisung who you ate lunch with. “It was good.”
He nodded - a short dismissal, and it you decided to freshen up in the bathroom, taking a quick shower just to wash off the lingering traces of Chan.
But maybe it was foolish to think that water could wash away everything that had happened - those traces would never simply vanish.
When you walked back out into the main room, you were stunned to see Jisung putting on his coat. “Jisung,” you said, watching your husband rush around the living room. “Are you busy?”
“Just gong to meet some friends,” Jisung replied. 
Distracted. Uninterested in you.
“Oh,” you said. “I thought we could spend some time together?”
“Yeah?” Jisung snorted, and you were shocked to hear him sound so abrasive...at least until he marched up to you waving around a business card. “And what the fuck is this, huh? I found it in your bag.”
He flung the card at you, and you sighed when you saw Chan’s name at the top - he must’ve snuck the card into your purse when you weren’t looking. “It’s nothing,” you said, but Jisung only laughed - a sound devoid of all humor. “Why the fuck are you going through my things?”
“Does it matter?” he huffed. “You can’t get enough of him, can you?” he asked, and you were like a tea kettle that had been sitting on the burner for way too long - practically erupting from the top.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“What do you think?” Jisung smarted back. “You’re obviously still seeing him, spreading your legs for his cock like a bitch in heat. I guess one night wasn’t enough for you.”
“How dare you!” you yelled, getting right in Jisung’s face. “You want to know what happened? He slipped the card into my purse when I met him for lunch today, but I had never even spoken to him until then.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Jisung spat, narrowing his eyes. “You’re a fucking whore, Y/N. Throwing yourself at a rich man like Bang Chan just because he can buy you nice stuff.”
“What’s money got to do with anything?”
“It obviously means everything!” Jisung shouted. “It’s what got us into this fucking mess into the first place.”
“You mean, the mess you made when you gambled all our money away?” 
“Are you really going to throw that back in my face?” Jisung seethed. “I was trying to make things better for us!”
“Good job,” you snickered. “Since we’re so fucking happy together.”
“What do you want from me?” Jisung asked, throwing up his arms. “I’m obviously the biggest asshole in the world.”
“I’m glad you can admit it,” you said. “Did you ever stop to think that all that I’ve done up to this point has been for you?”
Jisung paused, opening his mouth to retaliate, but then wisely deciding to let you continue. “Did I want to go to Vegas?” you asked. “No, but I went because you wanted to impress your company, and I know you wanted to do things right, but we should’ve both known better than to bet against the house. We lost everything, and in that moment of desperation, you pressured me into sleeping with another man, and I can’t think about anything else but him whenever I look at you.”
Jisung was stunned at the admission, all traces of anger gone from his expression. “Y/N,” he said. “I had no idea.”
“Yeah?” you said, voice quivering as you wiped away your tears. “Well, now you do.”
Jisung bowed his head, and you decided that you were done waiting for something to change, marching into your bedroom to grab your phone and dialing the first number you remembered.
“Chan,” you whispered when he greeted you on the other end. “Can I come over?”
There was only a split second of silence before Chan’s voice was soothing the raging storm inside of you. “I’ll send a car.”
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It was almost midnight when your driver pulled up outside of a lavish home in the suburbs: huge, towering columns and Greco-Roman architecture making the place seem more like a mausoleum.
But it wasn’t the home itself that brought you comfort; rather, the people living within it who always made things seem safe and welcoming, and Chan was sure to greet you at the door, opening his arms wide to accept your embrace. “Was it a bad fight?” he asked, and you nodded while wondering how he could’ve possibly picked up on the fact that you and Jisung had been arguing again.
Maybe he just had good intuition when it came to you, and you appreciated the understanding, allowing him to bring you into an enormous den, settling you against the couch next to him while a fire blazed in the background. “I made tea,” Chan said, reaching for the two cups waiting on the ornamental table filling the empty space at the center of the room.
“Thanks,” you said, finding your eyes drawn to the neat stack of papers that had been sitting next to the cups.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Chan asked, relaxing one arm around your shoulders, bringing you against his much-needed warmth.
“We just don’t get along anymore,” you said. “I thought having money would fix things, but everything is worse.”
“Really?” Chan asked, and he seemed to consider your words. “It might seem like a good thing, and from the standpoint of a businessman, money is a very powerful motivator.” He smiled, looking down at you with eyes glowing from the flames. “But money isn’t the solution when it comes to the people you love.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, but you had also started picking up on that yourself. “Were you busy with something?”
Chan followed your gaze, reaching out for the papers that had drawn your attention from the very first moment you sat down. “These?” Chan chuckled, and he slid them to the edge, allowing you to read the fine print across the cover. “Divorces are complicated, aren’t they?” Chan asked, and you hesitated when you realized what he was implying. “But if you have enough money, then anything is possible.”
“Chan...” you trailed off, vision blurring at the edges and making the letters bleed together - a cacophony of meaningless jargon. “What are you trying to say?”
“You’re unhappy,” Chan said, and it was an observation that wasn’t difficult to make after all that had happened. “I guess I just don’t want you to be associated with the person causing that unhappiness.”
“You want me to leave Jisung?” you said, breathing in and out because it wasn’t a simple decision that one could make on the spot - not after years of living with someone who had become a central part of your existence.
It was too much to bear, and Chan’s presence was almost suffocating, breaths heavy against the side of your neck as he whispered in your ear. “Why should you stay with him? With or without money, he can’t seem to make you smile.”
You trembled at his closeness, choking around a sob even though the atmosphere between the two of you was suddenly charged with something electric. “And then what?”
“Well, after Jisung signs them,” Chan said, and his tongue traced the lobe of your ear. “I’d love to have you for myself.”
“O-oh,” you stuttered, closing your eyes as he took you into his arms, doing nothing more than holding you, but the feelings bubbling below the surface of your skin told you more than actions or words ever could.
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The next morning, Chan had his driver take you back to the apartment you shared with Jisung.
The apartment was strangely quiet, and you left the divorce papers on the table in the kitchen while you went to shower, wanting nothing more than the scalding water to provide a temporary numbness to the confusion you felt in every fiber of your being.
It was a much-needed reprieve, and when you walked back into the kitchen, you were surprised to see your husband at the table, eyes downcast. “Come sit with me, Y/N.”
You swallowed hard when you realized he was searching through the divorce papers, but you weren’t met with his anger; instead, Jisung just seemed really sad, and that was much worse. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you said, but your husband just smiled and shook his head. 
“I knew you wouldn’t come back home for nothing,” he said, sliding out the chair next to him as an invitation. “Why should you? I treated you like shit the other night.”
“We both said some really cruel things,” you said, joining him with a sigh. “Things spiraled out of control.”
“I can see that,” Jisung said, tapping his fingers against the papers. “Let’s talk about what happened.”
You shivered at the thought. “I don’t think we should-”
“No,” Jisung interrupted, but it was a gentle chide. “It’s important, so hear me out.”
It would be so hard, but you still agreed. “Okay.”
“The whole mistake in Vegas wasn’t the money,” Jisung said. “No, money might’ve caused our problems, but the mistake wasn’t wanting something to make our lives better. The real mistake was me thinking that I could just forget about it after we left. That I could easily forgive us both...What’s that old saying? What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?” Jisung laughed, but it was bitter sounding. “Bullshit, right?”
“Yeah,” you agreed. “Bullshit.”
Jisung smiled. “People in love stay with each other, not because they try to forget the wrong parts, but because they’re capable of forgiving the bad. And I couldn’t do that because I thought you would want Chan after that night...that you would be right to want him. He’s so much better in every way, the better man for someone wonderful like you. But by the time I realized that it wasn’t true, that he was only better because he had more money, everything had spiraled.”
He was quiet after his confession, struggling to hold back his tears as he clicked open one of our pens and brought the papers closer. “If you really want the divorce, then I’ll give it to you,” Jisung said. “I just want you to be happy.”
Why should you stay with him? With or without money, he can’t seem to make you smile.
“Jisung...” you trailed off, unsure if there was anything you could do to change the look in his eyes.
“I’ll always love you,” Jisung said, and it was the same promise as always, but you watched with a heavy heart as he signed his name in cursive as the bottom of the form.
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The divorce papers felt like an added weight in your bag as you marched into the office building of SKZ Enterprises.
It was ridiculous, really. They were just papers, made in a factory and mass-produced to be sold in stores.
But it was the symbolism they carried, the significance of Jisung’s name scribbled at the bottom of the final page that had you faltering.
Your heart was hurting, and you forced a smile when you greeted Chan’s secretary at the corner next to his big, corporate office. “I’m here to see, Mr. Bang,” you told the secretary. “Tell him my name is Y/N.”
“Of course,” she said, and you watched her disappear into the office, giving you a few critical moments to collect your thoughts.
Until you heard his voice again:
“Y/N?” 
You startled at the sound of Chan’s voice, seeing him standing in front of you with a million-dollar smile on his weathered face. “Come inside?”
“Yes,” you agreed, following him into the office with the door shutting firmly behind you.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” Chan said, grabbing you hand and pressing a kiss to your lips. “Is something wrong?”
“We need to talk,” you said, and Chan’s smile disappeared.
“That doesn’t sound good,” he said, chuckling as he invited you to sit down in one of the expensive chairs next to his desk. “Do you need anything? I can call for some tea.”
“No,” you said, deciding it was better to get straight to the point as you reached into your bag to bring out the divorce papers stapled together.
“This could either be good or bad,” Chan remarked, accepting them from you and quickly turning to the last page, expression falling. “I see.”
“I can’t sign them,” you said, and there was something powerful in your tone that had even Chan admitting defeat.
“Damn,” Chan sighed, eyes boring a hole into the pages. “This is the worst news I’ve gotten.”
“I talked to Jisung,” you explained. “Just looking at him and entertaining the idea of leaving forever...I couldn’t do it.”
Chan finally tore his gaze from the papers, meeting yours with disappointment. “I take it he said something to change your mind.”
“I don’t know if he changed my mind,” you admitted. “Rather, I think his love and forgiveness made me see reason with what I was doing.”
“Ah,” Chan said. “I think we’ve come full circle, Y/N.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you told me that all the money in the world couldn’t buy your love,” Chan said, and there was something that resembled respect reflected in his eyes. “You were right all along.”
You ducked your head, unable to maintain such intensity. “I’d like to give you that money back, Mr. Bang. My husband and I can manage on our own.”
“Oh, please, I’d be insulted if you did that,” Chan said, and he held out his hand for you to shake. “You know I’m a good businessman, so consider this an opportune long-term investment in something I’m supporting.”
You were full of gratitude, swallowing back tears as you nodded. “Thank you.”
“”There’s no need for that,” he said. “I’ll always be here for you.” The sentiment was matched by the gentle brushing of his lips across your cheek, and you could feel the last reminder of Chan even after leaving his office for the first and final time.
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You were carrying takeout up the stairs, feeling lighter on your feet than you had in months.
The weight of your burdensome worries was gone, and you knocked with a little too much enthusiasm on the front door to your apartment.
“Y/N?” Jisung questioned, and there was an obvious look of surprise on his face when he opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” you reminded him with a cheeky smile. “I brought food.”
Jisung’s eyes moved to the bag in your hand, nodding once before allowing you inside. “I thought you were going to see Chan.”
“I did,” you said, leading him into the kitchen. “There were some things to discuss.”
“I see,” Jisung said, watching you with a wary expression as you presented him with his favorite Italian special.
The suspense was killing you, and you desperately wanted to see the frown leave his lips. “I didn’t sign the papers,” you said, sitting down at the table with a wearied sigh. “I couldn’t.”
“Really?” Jisung asked, clearing his throat at the hitch in his voice, but you were just trying to hide your smile at his boyish charms.
“Have I told you that I love you recently?” you asked, looking at him with way too much fondness.
Jisung paused, chopsticks poised in hand. “You do?”
“Always,” you affirmed, and you were unprepared for the first of Jisung’s tears to fall, endearing him even more to you if that was possible. “I’m happiest with you,” you told him, reaching out to wipe away those rebellious tears.
“I’ve always felt that way,” Jisung said, getting himself back under control as he pushed away his food and patted his lap. “Come here.”
You were more than happy to oblige, climbing into his lap to wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair while searing your lips together in a kiss that promised so much more from the one true love of your life.
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cultgambles · 3 years
Text
Nearly a Blip in Time
I love historical sukuna so here i am. Also i am lowkey so confused at his story. Like i know he was a sorcerer at one point in history but like when did he get all his arms?? BC according to the wiki he was killed and then became a cursed spirit and then his fingers were waxy (lol weird choice of word) ?? anyway, in this, hes not a people hes a monster.
He’s also OOC. first time writing for JJK, but i wanted something soft hehe. Reader bites the dust
Wc: 3033
Masterlist | Requests? open
“[Y/N], you can’t be serious. No way a person of your . . . stature . . . could research in depth about something as big as Ryomen Sukuna. In fact, I’d wager that you wouldn’t even get within 5 feet of his temple,” the local teacher scoffs, disbelief plain as day on his face.
“You wager? What if I do get within 5 feet, then? Will you take me in as your student?” You cross your arms, staring him down. “Do you accept the challenge? I mean, you said it to begin with.”
The scholar throws up a hand, blowing you off. “Fine, whatever. You have half a year to write an in-depth dissection of the demon lord Ryomen Sukuna, and you will report your findings back to me at this very hour once your time is up. I expect perfection.”
“And if I win?” You ask, writing down every word he has said.
“You won’t die.”
“And?” You shoot him an unamused glare.
“And I will take you in as a student. God curse your father for teaching you to read and write.”
“He knew it would be beneficial for me. Now, sign here so you don’t try to cheat your way out of this,” you thrust the wood block and paper attached towards him. The scholar grumbles, almost breaking the ink brush in the process of writing his signature.
You carefully tuck the contract under your arm and scurry off, not before telling him you’d be back.
His laughter echoes around you.
At home, your father was amazed and horrified to learn of this deal, but he knew nothing could stop you. You gave him one last hug for the time being and gathered what little belongings you had in a knapsack.
“Don’t worry, father, I’ll be back before you know it.” His warmth lingers on your person, seeping into your bones. You’ll miss this.
Sukuna’s temple isn’t far from your village, in fact, he was revered as a protector of some sorts. Perhaps one quick to anger and that changed on the dime. It was a couple miles up the mountain where the snow thinned in winter and where the flowers bloomed in the spring. You’ve been to it only a handful of times before, once with your father, and several with the other village ladies. A yearly tradition, you suppose.
The temple is always well kept, the torii gates painted a pristine red, the surrounding area swept and neat, no dust to be seen near the wells or on the floor. Some, like the scholar you had made a wager with, merely believed he was a spirit, a demon of imagination. Others, like you and your mother, really believed in his existence. Before it becomes too late, you decide to scope out the area and set up camp a ways away from the temple so as to not disturb him. You briefly wonder if he was here or away at some other village. Would he be wreaking havoc? or be somewhat kind and spare the folks living there? You decide to set up your small camp under the camouflage and protection of the trees, maybe fifty feet from the river. You’d be much happier to stay at home, but the paths could become treacherous for a young thing like you at night. Maybe a little bit of the great outdoors is what you needed, anyway.
Almost a week passes before you ever have the hint of seeing the demon in the flesh. It’s on one of the days where you bring a small offering. Not much since you can’t exactly go home and cook a nice meal every time, but usually a flower crown or other type of decor.
When you do see him, however, time slows to a crawl. You swear your legs feel like jelly as he glances down at you. Sharp-featured and arrogant, beautiful, all man. He stands tall, towering above you. He has to stoop to reach the depths of the temple from the doorway.
“Well, well,” he croons, “what do we have here?” His four eyes are the color of what flows through each being and his canines sharp as knives. Truly, he’s beautiful, sculpted muscles rippling under inky black tattoos, blazing red eyes.
You bow deeply and straighten your shoulders, gaze still downcast to be respectful. “I just wanted to make this offering to you. I know it’s not much, but I hope you will find it useful.” You raise the small gift above your head, feeling his gaze roll over your body, sharp nails lightly scraping against your skin, grasping the wreath.
“Peculiar,” he says. His thumb and forefinger tilt your head up and you struggle to avert your eyes. “What’s your purpose here, little human?”
“I made a bet with the town scholar. I’ve to write about you and return with my findings so I can become a real student there.”
“A student, eh?”
“Please! I’m fascinated by you,” you plead, feeling his grip on your chin tighten.
“I’m intrigued, if only slightly,” he muses, releasing you harshly enough you’re forced to regain your balance.
You soon learn his ego is massive, that’s probably the only reason he spared you. He’d just love something written about him, wouldn’t he? Ever the gracious god, he lets you stay in one of the temple rooms. You had offered to take one the furthest from his own so he could have plenty of space, but he put you up right across from his instead.
Something about you being near to always capture his persona. Whatever.
Life at the temple is never truly boring. there’s always something going on; whether someone bringing gifts, like an unlucky human sacrifice, or some warriors barging in thinking they could actually harm the demon.
Sukuna likes you watching him tear apart these people limb from limb the best. The first couple times you couldn’t stand it, but it soon became a natural occurrence. Sure, you felt bad for those folks, but they never came truly prepared.
“What’re you writing now, pet?” he asks you one day. You glance up at him. He’s wringing the blood out of one of his sleeves, the blood drip drip dripping to the floor in red rain.
“I’ve noticed you like toying with your prey. If you’re in a good mood, you’ll let them think you have the upper hand,” you tell him.
“And if I’m in a bad mood?”
“Slice them in half!” He nods. His black nails gleam in the sunlight and you watch a pair of arms reach up behind his head as a cushion as the other balances to sit next to you.
“I really like how the trees change color in the autumn,” he says nonchalantly.
“Because they’re the color of blood?” you offer. You draw a small leaf on your paper’s corner.
“Maybe. Their lives are so short, unlike mine. Not that I’ve been a curse for too terribly long.”
You bite your tongue. Is it lonely? bounces around in your head.
“What will I do when my little scholar leaves too?” You flush and stammer that you still have a couple months. Sukuna pauses in thought, then, a sinister smirk gracing his lips.
The more you get to know him, the more you realize that he’s much more bored with life. Killing random people stated his boredom and gave him something to do, it wasn’t until later that he learned to revel in it. The more you got to know him, the more you didn’t want to leave.
He taught you, too. Weird things, usually, but still, useful things. He wasn’t all that good a teacher, but he was patient and expected you to figure shit out on your own. Sometimes he took you down to the market and showed you how to best barter.
And to steal.
Other times, he would sit and watch you cook silently. He always says your cooking wasn’t crap, so you just take it as a compliment.
Six months have passed since you first climbed the mountain. Sukuna finds you in your room packing what little belongings you have.
“That time already?” he muses, leaning against the door. You hum in acknowledgement. “What if they don’t even accept me?”
“Then you’ll return, of course.”
“That’s a nice thought.”
Of course, little did you know, but to Sukuna, that was a command.
He didn’t just watch your figure walk away, no, he followed silently behind, taking in the way you’d stop to study a particularly interesting tree or follow the clouds.
Your village is still the same. Same rickety well, same sunken houses, same sort of dreariness when you left.
You make your way towards the school house, it’s kind of near the back of the village, backed up to the lush forest. “I’ve done it!” you call, standing tall. “Not only have I been within 5 feet of his temple, I’ve been inside. I’ve had actual conversations with the demon Ryomen Sukuna.” You fish out your copious amount of notes and dissertation, shoving it in front of you.
“I’m surprised,” is all the teacher says, “give it here.” You hand him the documents, and he flips through the pages.
“So?”
“So what? For all I know, this could all be made up.”
“What? It’s not! How would I make up his favorite fruit or the way he likes his meat cooked? Papaya and rare, by the way,” you cross your arms.
“Then you should have brought him down with you.”
“You called?” his deep, rumbling voice cuts through the silence.
“S-Sukuna? What are you doing here?”
“I told you, pet, you’d return to me.”
“Sukuna-sama!” the scholar bows. “This is all a misunderstanding, their findings were great! Very convincing!”
“Give them to me.”
“Yes, sir!” he wails, pressing the papers to the other’s chest.
“You didn’t think he would actually keep that bet, did you?” Sukuna asks you.
“Well, I was hopeful!”
“Aw sweet,” he mocks you lightly. “You don’t need to be surrounded by such inferiors. Come now.” It seemed just a snap and somehow the scholar’s head was lobbed off.
You nod dumbly, barely processing what exactly just transpired. Did he kill him? For you? Surely there must be something in it for him.
But the way he holds out one of his four hands for you to grasp sets a fire in your heart. It’s small, no grassland bonfire, but a smolder that you know will become a steady heat.
His hand is rough and calloused while yours only has a few bumps from holding your ink brush so tightly and for so long. Sukuna leads you back to the temple, guiding you back into the room you stayed before.
“Why,” you ask him softly.
He shrugs. “You’re amusing to me. I like the silly words you use.”
“So you like my company?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he chuckles, running a hand over your head.
“Hey! You’re gonna mess up my hair!” you giggle.
“Don’t worry, next time it will be because your head will be atop my bed.” Shameless. Truly shameless. “Just keep writing about me.”
Somewhere in between you returning to the temple and now is when you find yourself tangled in his sheets. Two of his arms wrap securely around your waist and hip, another caressing your cheek. If you’re being completely honest, it seemed as if he adored you. He never coddles you per say, but anything you’d mention off hand, he would remember. An object you wanted, or even that you wanted to take a bath later that day. Sometimes he would even brush out your tangles for you.
You’re surprised by the normality of it all, how he’s gentle with you, unlike others who dare to cross his path.
Waking up together is a part of your daily routine. (Every morning, he gives you a quick kiss on the forehead.) (You trace the patterns of his tattoos lazily.) You’d ask him about you and him sometimes, and he always responds that he’ll always keep his little one happy, that you belong to him. Sometimes, in the back of your mind, you wonder if he’s actually being truthful or he’s just passing the time. Maybe the truth is a little bit of both, but you’re happy anyway.
He likes holding you, the two of you sitting by the river in the flowerbeds, watching nature for hours at a time.
Other times, he lets down his walls in the four corners of the temple. Every time he comes home smelling of blood and decay, you drag him to the bathroom and run a hot bath. Your nimble fingers glide through his hair, stopping to pull out leaves and scrub away dirt from his skin. More often than not, he would pull you in with him, your laugh ringing in his ears like bells.
But happiness must come to an end.
Apparently.
It’s a weekday when it happens.
Sorcerers.
They come in doves, feet stomping like drums.
“I guess they’re tired of me wreaking havoc, hmm?” he muses.
“There’s a lot more than usual, are you sure you’ll be alright?” you whisper softly, cupping his cheek.
He holds your hand there, leaning in and closing his eyes. “Who do you think I am? Of course I’ll be fine. You will be too.”
“Okay,” you watch him leave, a familiar aura of danger seeping in like a thick fog.
But it’s not okay.
Someone finds you and they drag you out of the temple by the hair. You’re thrown to the ground harshly.
“What, a little harlot? That demon won’t bother saving you, don’t even look at him. You’re nothing to him,” the sorcerer tells you, pressing a steel toed boot to your throat. You’re gasping for a breath, any.
“Obviously you think I’m worth something since you’re dealing with me,” you struggle to voice.
His nostrils flare, eyes wide. “See you in hell,” he snarls. You’re feeling everything and nothing at once. Surely the wound in your chest as you bleed, but you can’t seem to think of anything good or bad. You’re clutching your wound, sputtering. As if sensing you, miraculously, Sukuna turns in your direction as his fist rips through someone’s chest. Faintly, you hear a roar of anger, and then the screams around you are deafening.
The dozens of sorcerers that tried to defeat Ryomen Sukuna lay at bizzare angles, each in their own pool of blood.
It’s this horrible humorless laugh, his open mouth desperate and hungry like he wants to devour the world in punishment for taking the one true thing he held dear to him. The last piece holding his humanity together. He doesn’t know how you even got out of the temple, that’s definitely not where he left you. You’re staring blankly ahead, but he notices your hand gripping the pendant he gifted you.
Sukuna sighs, kneeling next to you, holding you close to his chest. He doesn’t know what you would have preferred: whether to be buried or cremated, and there’s no point now. Ultimately, Sukuna places you in a bed of flowers. He makes his way back to the temple, stepping around the bodies that litter the floor. Maybe he can threaten some laymen to come clean up the mess.
When he returns to the main room, the first thing he notices is the shelf with all the books you loved. Papers strewn everywhere, pages bent.
Your findings about him on the top shelf are gone.
That’s not something he realizes until much, much, much later when he’s ambushed after terrorizing another village. It’s been years without you, and yet he still feels anger of how you were taken from him. He promised he would protect you, at least, in the sanctum of his own mind, never voicing it to you. And yet, he’s failed.
Your coping mechanisms suck, you’d probably say if you saw him now. But I’ll write it down anyway, and we can cross it out later, if you want.
Like your death, he’s not even sure how the sorcerers managed to defeat him.
His twenty fingers cut up, separated through time and distance. Dormant, for now.
—PRESENT TIME—
“Oi, brat, ask that blindfold asshole what those are.”
“Ask what are what?” his host, Yuuji Itadori quips.
“Over there, on display. The books.”
Yuuji hates to admit it, but he’s curious too. How important are they to be kept here, and in a glass case, no less? Anyway, he hardly ever gets to see cursed objects in the flesh.
“Gojo-sensei! What are those!?” he shouts.
“They’re books, don’t you know what a book is?”
“Okay, yeah, but what’s their use? Like, why are they here?” Yuuji pulls at his hair.
“Hmm, they’re written by a [Y/N]. Long ago, not much information about the author, but the writing is phenomenal. And all about that little curse inside of you,” Gojo smirks, running a finger down Yuuji’s forehead and bopping him on the nose.
“About Sukuna?”
“Pretty mundane stuff, if you ask me. I’ve been told the sorcerers that defeated Sukuna used those texts. Not sure how ‘he hates when food offerings have tomatoes’ was useful, but apparently it was,” he shrugs, looking at his watch. “Ah, would you look at the time, I’ve gotta go! Pressing matters with a special-grade. And the candy shop I want to go to closes in 30!”
“Later, sensei,” Yuuji waves. “You don’t like tomatoes?”--silence-- “What, no response? You’re suddenly shy now?”
Sukuna hears him, and ignores him as per usual.
So, my little scholar’s books were stolen, huh? Here, all this time?
158 notes · View notes
eclipsedpascal · 3 years
Text
Making Daddy Proud
Stepdad!Duncan x Female Reader
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After moving in with your estranged mother and her new husband, Duncan Shepherd, you started to grow very close to your new stepdad. The two of you had a great relationship and he was doing his best to be a good father figure for you, knowing you missed your dad so much. But there was a problem, you found yourself insanely attracted to him and were starting to notice little things indicating he might feel the same way.
Warnings: very inappropriate relationships, Stepfather/stepdaughter relationship, Cheating is ofc implied, 20+ year age gap, daddy kink, unprotected sex (but I kinda imagined the reader to be on birth control so is okie😌) fingering (female receiving), choking, vaginal sex, oral (male receiving) and face fucking😃
Notes: Okie sooo I know some people will hate this fic and ofc I understand that, but if you do hate it then please don't send me any hate!! just don't read it🖤 anywayss I got dis ask saying "Concept: Stepdad Duncan x naive reader😉" nd omg i LOVE the whole concept of Stepdad!Duncan sm, like if you've been in the fandom for a while you'll probably know the fic "The Hand That Robs the Cradle" by Langdonsrapture nd that fic was my holy grail when it came out!! so you know I just had to go all out here nd get carried away writing it hehe:')
word count: 5.4k
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The opportunity to study political science at American University in Washington DC had been one you simply couldn’t pass up on, but unfortunately it meant moving away from your father to stay closer to campus grounds. You knew it was worth it in the long run, I mean you had been waiting on this chance for years and wanted to make your father proud, but you would miss him.
He was never home too much, always busy working, but he meant the world to you. It had been just the two of you for a long time now. Your mother had moved away once their divorce finalised 7 years ago, impulsively leaving you in his custody as she ran off and gallivanted around the world, meeting all sorts of interesting men she would tell you about.
Luckily for you, she had settled down with one of those interesting men in DC recently, and upon discovering your acceptance into the prestigious university she had offered you a place to stay whilst you studied.
It was a frightening move to make, but staying with your mother in DC had actually been pretty interesting. You hadn’t spent time with her in so long and it had been nice to catch up with her, I mean sure she had been a little distant, but that was expected with having not spent any real time with her in so long.
You were just grateful she had let you stay with her in the first place, thinking she would have probably preferred to be left alone with her new husband, Duncan Shepherd.
They had been married about four months when you moved in and from what you could see, things were going well; especially considering she had sprung the engagement on everyone pretty fast. You were just happy knowing she was happy.
Though you had only met the man in question once before moving in, he really seemed like a perfect partner. He didn’t have a single obvious flaw to him, but see that was the problem. He was completely flawless to you.
You had tried to find things you didn’t like about him, even just tiny things, thinking hating him would be far better than thinking of him the way had been, but no matter what you did, you just couldn’t seem to fault him. And the longer you stayed with them, the worse your little problem became.
You weren’t 100% sure of how old he was. You only knew he was in his early to mid forties. But being at least 20 years your senior, you knew he was definitely old enough to be fulfilling the role he was as your stepfather. It felt strange to have a new stepdad at the age of 20, (almost 21) but it was even stranger with you being so blindly attracted to him.
And it wasn’t even just his looks. Though, yes, they were quite the spectacle, it was more than that. He was confident and cocky, always knowing exactly what to do and say to make the people around him do whatever he wanted them to. He could make you laugh until your stomach was in cramps, and not just through telling dad jokes. Charisma rolled off of him in waves.
He was intuitive and crafty; smart to put in plainly. And his interests appeared to be more intellectually based than anything else, which was quite the opposite of your mother, so it baffled you as to how your mother had managed to snatch him up so easily in the first place.
Now it’s not that you were jealous, really. It was more that you didn’t understand how these two polar opposite personality’s had ended up colliding together in the manner that they had.
Whenever the three of you would sit and have an evening meal together, Duncan always made you feel welcomed in the conversation, which was a great comfort to both you and your mother, being the relationship you had was so strained. Because of this and the fact you both had quite a lot in common when it came to your interests, Duncan and you had become almost good friends in the small time that you had been living there.
It was obvious he was doing his best to be some kind of fatherly figure to you. knowing that you were missing your actual dad, he did his best to help you with the things he knew your dad usually would. Whether it was school work or just having someone to joke with from time to time. He was there.
Sometimes when he was there, though, you felt like maybe, just maybe, he felt something more too. Such as the moments where his stares would linger on your form for just a little too long, or the way he would sometimes fix your hair for you if it had strayed across your face the wrong way. Just small things he did that fatherly figures didn’t typically tend to do with their daughters; especially when his wife, your mother, was right there. Sure, she seemed oblivious to it, but you certainly weren’t.
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Taking your now lukewarm cup of coffee from the breakfast bar counter, you brought it to your lips and gulped the bitter liquid down, fighting viciously to stay alert. It was nearing 3am and you had been writing for hours. Concentrating was no longer your most favourable asset and your half lidded eyes were growing wearer by the minute, but you just had to finish this paper.
It was 17 percent of your grade and due in two weeks. A persuasive essay on propaganda within the current American political climate and you had been slowly working at it for weeks, but you knew if you left it hanging over your head any longer it would drive you insane.
Sitting back in the stool you resided on, you took quick solace in the many noises coming from the ajar kitchen window, listening to a low rumble of thunder, accompanied by the constant pitter patter of rain falling from the gloomy DC sky above. It had been hot and humid all week, eventually cultivating into large clouds that had now given in, spilling out showers for almost the entire day past.
You recalled all the time you’d spent by the pool with your mother and Duncan in the past week, enjoying the current heatwave by sunbathing next to it on one of the many loungers. The house was kind of set up like a hotel that way. With Duncan always needing to be prepared for any events he may have to hold for his company’s business associates or press, he had furnished the home with what was to the three of you, unnecessary seating and tableware; amongst other things.
You stirred, returning your eyes back to the last few lines you had written and attempted to go over them in your head, but quickly realised you couldn't even manage that without stumbling over them or jumbling the words up beyond comprehension.
Abruptly interrupting your confused stream of thought, was the kitchen door groaning open. So with a frown plastered to your face, you shot your head up to recognise the intruder. But your frown was quickly blown away at discovering that it was Duncan who had entered the balmy room, and he was in more glory than you had ever seen him.
You had seen his silhouette whilst he showered before. Having gone into his and your mother’s shared bedroom whilst searching for earrings, you had seen him through the whited out, frosted glass of the on-suit bathroom door. But this was something entirely different. This was him, stood in kitchen doorway with nothing on but his grey Calvin Klein boxers.
“Y/N? I didn’t know you were still up.” He quirked a brow at you, wondering why you were still sat in the kitchen so late at night. You swallowed deeply at the sight of him. Your eyes magnetised to his body, dilating with such a sultry image before them. Pulling your eyes back up to his face, you hoped he hadn’t seen their little detour down to his crotch.
“Uhm.. i’m, uh.. w-working on an essay.” Fuck! He’ll definitely know how nervous you are now. You looked away from him, too embarrassed to face him and cringing at your own attempt to speak. “It’s due in next week and I wanted to get it finished.” Okay that’s better, you thought. Maybe he’ll just think you’re just too tired to have a proper conversation or something.
“Oh, right,” he trailed off, looking you up and down a bit as he walked further into the room. You watched the back of his head as he opened the fringe, holding it open and scanning the contents of it. Deciding on a small bottle of water, he retrieved it from the middle shelf before closing the door and walking over to lean on the opposite side of the counter from you.
He didn’t seem too bothered by the fact he was practically undressed in front of you. Of course, you weren't complaining, but it was interesting. You tried to think of something else you could add to your open word document, wanting to distract yourself from his displayed body. But thinking as hard as you possibly could, your mind still brought you nothing.
You awkwardly pulled at the sleeve of your oversized ‘American University” sweater and hoisted it back up onto your shoulder. It had ridden down your arm whilst you were aggressively fiddling with your fingers - a nervous habit you had developed in your early teens. People would often point it out to you, but it was just one of those things you couldn’t stop doing.
There was a deafening silence stuffed between the two of you. So looking around the room, you tried to focus on anything in your line of vision that wasn’t him. It was just too hard seeing him like; his plump lips wrapped around the bottle’s mouth as he drank, his sleepy un-styled curls falling just above his perfectly manicured brows and wearing nothing but those fucking grey boxers. He was making it unbearably hard not to stare.
Deciding to speak, you cleared your throat. “So did you just wake up? Or could you not sleep?”
“Just couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the most random shit.. and you know how your mom is, she snores a lot.” He chuckled. His eyes never leaving you, beginning to feel as if they were boring holes into your soul as you kept full eye contact with him.
“Yeah, that must get pretty annoying.” You nodded slowly, thinking about how many nights you had spent wide awake when you were younger, all due to her roaring, loud snores passing through the paper thin walls of your childhood home.
“It does.” A smile played on his lips, taking another swig of water before speaking again. “so what’s the essay about?”
“It’s that one I was telling you about a few weeks ago, if you remember. it’s a persuasive on propaganda within the current American political climate.” You reminded him of the conversation you had about it when he dropped you off to class one morning not too long ago. The two of you often carpooled together, with the University campus being so close to his office, it made for an easy drive on the days he was needed in.
You guys would listen to playlists together on the drive and make fun of each others music taste, that was when you weren’t too busy being amazed by how similar they could be.
“Are you struggling with it? I mean, it is getting pretty late now.” He turned to check the clock which hung on the wall behind him, then looked back at you questioningly.
Duncan was good at helping you with this kind of thing. He was extremely well versed in politics, with his family’s background and all. Your mom had told you he used to be very involved with the white house, saying when he was younger he even went to prison for a short time before president underwood had pardoned him.
“I just can’t concentrate, but I really need to get it done or it’ll stress me out.” You lifted your bare feet up onto the stool seat, your knees coming up to your chest so you could rest your chin on them. You were only wearing panties with the sweater, it being too hot to wear anything more.
“Can I come over and check it?” He closed his bottle of water, tightening the lid with his muscular arms as he spoke. You had almost forgot he wasn’t wearing much before he said this, but watching him screw the bottle cap on as he asked to could come round to your side of the counter? It had you weak for him all over again.
“Uh.. yeah, course.” He padded his bare feet over the white, tiled flooring towards you, placing the bottle down on the counter and moving behind you to read the most recent paragraphs you had written. His hand was stretched over to the other side of you, resting on the edge of the breakfast bar as the skin of his arm grazed across your back.
Even with you being sat on such a tall stool, he still managed to tower over you. His hight was usually intimidating as it was, but with the added factor of him being almost completely undressed it was even worse. A small waft of air blew his expensive cologne towards you, creeping past your nostrils and possessing your senses completely before you started to feel his breathe on your upper neck. It wasn’t heavy, but it was enough to make your cunt start pulsating.
You were disgusted by yourself. He’s your mother’s husband! And your Stepdad! What the fuck was wrong with you? You could only imagine what people’s reactions would be if they knew of the truly sinful thoughts you had about him, and you hated yourself for it.
He was your type, yes. A rich, older man who wasn’t actually an asshole, and they were hard to come by, but that wasn’t relevant. You needed to control yourself. No matter how hard that may be.
“What you have so far is really good. Your argument is strong and as always with your work, it’s written well. You’re smart, Y/N. It’s impressive.” He humoured himself with a scoff, his voice interrupting your lewd thoughts.
You blushed at his compliment, hiding your face behind your knees slightly and looking up at him. “Thanks, Duncan.” You knew he was just trying to be a good dad figure to you, but you couldn’t help being attracted to the way he was so caring for you. Maybe it’s fucked up, but it’s not your fault all you need is an older man’s approval to become turned on.
“I mean it.” He looks so sincere as he talks to you. His face would be intimately close to yours if you hadn’t hidden it from him earlier. You notice his eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second, and then back up to your eyes again. His stare no longer felt friendly, but more.. lustful. Were you crazy or was he really doing this?
Suddenly he looks away from you, moving his eyes back to the laptop’s screen. “Maybe you should just get some sleep. I know you said it’ll stress you out, but if you get some rest you’ll be able to get back into it tomorrow with better concentration.” He does his best to steer the conversation back to where is once was, reminding himself that you’re his fucking step daughter and that he has a beautiful wife sleeping just upstairs.
“I know that, its just..” You sighed, blinking up at him. You brought your legs back down you hang over the edge of the seat, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how close he was to you, wanting to do nothing more than to drape your arms behind his neck an-.
“Nope I won’t listen to it. From what I can see it’s an incredibly strong piece of work already, so just go get some sleep and come back to it in the morning, okay sweetheart?” He laughed a little, looking down at you again.
That nickname. Sweetheart. He called you it all the time and yet it always managed to take your breath away. But the thing is, he usually wasn’t this close to you when he did. So when you squeezed your legs together and bite down on your bottom lip, doing your best to ease the overwhelming desire you felt for him in that moment, there was no way he hadn’t seen it.
You were frozen staring at him, his face static and unreadable. You hoped he didn't choose to shout at you for how repulsive your behaviour was, or maybe he would kick you out? Your mind began spiralling, wrapping itself in intricate knots as you held your breath, awaiting a reply from him.
“Do you like that? When I call you sweetheart.” His voice was deep, sultry and dripping with desire. Shock coursed through you. That was definitely not what you had expected him to say. He seemed even larger now, his confidence making you feel small in comparison as your mind scrabbled to find the words you were supposed to use in your current predicament, but it never found any.
"You like it when daddy gives you nicknames?” He moved his hand up and delicately grasped the skin where your neck met your jaw, his eyes half lidded with lust. Your heart was beating so fast now and your breathing had grown shallow. You were so lost for words, only able to whimper out a weak “yes” before looking down to his boxers, trying to avoid his eyes but still wanting him just as much as he now appeared to want you.
He lifted your chin and kissed you roughly, drinking in your lips as if you were the water he had ventured down stairs for all along; and you began to wonder if you perhaps were. Maybe you were what he had been craving, just as you had been craving him.
He pulled the stool closer to him with his spare hand, leading you to wrap your legs around his torso as you tangled your tiny fingers through his sleep rustled hair. It was passionate. His kiss was sloppy, yet perfectly executed as his tongue slipped past your lips to glide over your own. His greying stubble dug into your skin, burning it with pure contact.
You parted to breath; and for just a moment, though it felt like hours, you stared into each others eyes with a ferociously neither of you could nor wanted to tame.
He tuts. “You really shouldn’t drink so much coffee little one, it’s not good for you. And it’s all I can taste.” He couldn’t help but reprimand you for the little habit, he had just gotten so used to doing it over the past three months, and using it to tease you sounded even more appealing.
You opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off when he lunged at you again, kissing you viciously. He began to move his hands all across your body, his fingertips grazing over every inch of you they possibly could as he started to undress you, pulling your oversized sweater above your head and taking handfuls of your breasts. He was kneading them, leaning down to kiss and suck on them whilst he watched you throw your head back, completely enthralled by him.
You were taken aback by how quick things had escalated, your sense of control had deteriorated far too rapidly and was ebbing away even further with each little kiss he left on your skin.
His large hand slid down to your panties, playing with the lacy bow that was centred on the waist band. He hovered his hand over your heat, cupping it and feeling just how sticky you had become for him. You let out a moan, all sense of wrong and right leaving you completely as you uttered a soft “Daddy” and ground your cunt into the palm of his hand.
“That’s right. So desperate for daddy.” He mused, ripping your thin underwear off and dropping it down onto the floor beneath you. Bringing his face to yours again, your noses bumped and leant on each other for some kind of purchase, the both of you watching his hand as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, gathering a fair amount of slick on them before pressing two inside you.
“Ahh!!” You let out a moan, it was louder than you expected and reminded you of what was really going on here. Having been too caught up in the moment, you hadn’t even thought about how being complete fucking naked with your step father between your legs would look if your mother had decided to come downstairs.
“Ah, ah, shh baby. We don’t wanna get now caught do we?” His breathe was hot on your lips, whispering as to not alert anyone. “So tight.”
You whispered back. “I’m sorry daddy, it was an accident- mmph!” You muffled your moan.
“That’s it. Who’s my good girl?” He lay a gentle peck on you lips, only stopping as to allow you to answer his question.
“I am daddy!! I’m your good girl!” You spoke with urgency, but did your best to keep the volume low, which was quite the struggle in between moans. Duncan could see this, so he pressed your lips together. Kissing you into a muffled silence.
You felt his spare hand on your neck, squeezing it just enough for you to still breathe okay when he pulled away from your mouth, moving his lips to the shell of your ear and biting the lobe. He murmured in your ear. “Do you know how hard it was, this week? Having to sit there next to your mom at the poolside and see you just lying there like that?! That fucking bikini. It took everything in me not to cum right there.”
His fingers were moving slowly, going in deep and curling up against your g spot, making you cry out and lean on his shoulder, biting it to keep yourself quiet. he started to rub your clit in hard circles. He was so experienced. It was mind-blowing.
“Would it have served you more pleasure to know, I only wore it for you?” It was true, you had only worn it for him and it had obviously worked. You certainly had his attention now. He growled at this, pulling his fingers out and slapping your cunt.
He yanked your neck closer to him, speaking down to you. “Just for that? Get on your fucking knees.” As soon as he let go of your throat you were climbing off the stool and onto the floor. The heat of the room, and of your acts too, made the marble tiling feel like ice pressed onto your flushed skin. But you didn't care.
You watched him pull his boxers down, cock springing free, adjacent to his stomach. Never having been with anyone of this size before, you had never seen a cock this big. You reached out and touched it, feeling just how hard he was. He hissed at the contact, looking down at you as you watched his facial expressions with wide eyes.
You played with it in your hand, stroking it with one and palming his balls with the other. He stroked his fingers through your hair, giving you a reassuring look as you licked the tip. The salty taste hit your tongue, making you crave his cock even more. So without another second going to waste, you took him into your mouth as far as you could.
“Ahh fuck!” You began bobbing your head, your eyes fixed on him as a groan left his lips. He was watching you intently, threading his fingers through your hair and onto your scalp to get a good grip on your head. You let your jaw go loose, knowing what he was about to do and preparing yourself for it.
He started thrusting his hips into your face, his cock hitting the back of your throat with almost every shove. You had honestly impressed yourself, I mean you knew you gave good head, but taking a cock this big as it fucked into your throat was something to be proud of.
“Mmm that’s it sweetheart.” Your stomach fluttered at his approval. The gagging noises you were making giving him even more pleasure. “You just wanna make daddy proud, don’t you princess?” You mumbled a wet “yes daddy” around his cock, sending sweet vibrations through it as he pushed himself as far as he could into your throat.
You couldn't even fathom how this was happening. You had pictured this moment late at night with a vibe pressed to your clit far too many times to count, so it finally happening was something hard to comprehend. Somehow he looked even more handsome from down on your knees than you had ever imagined he would. His stubble contouring his face perfectly with the ‘o’ his lips were forming.
Suddenly pulling you off of him, you gasped out for oxygen and tried to wipe away some of the saliva dribbling down your chin. It was like a snapshot from one of Duncan’s wet dreams. You looked so incredibly fucked out. He thought it was beautiful.
“Come on little one, stand up. Daddy wants to fuck that tight little pussy of yours.” You moaned as he talked down to you, stroking his calloused thumb over your bottom lip and pulling it down just to watch it bounce back up again.
You stood up, finally wrapping your arms around his shoulders like you had wanted to all this time. He pulled you in for a kiss, one much slower than the rest, communicating something more to you than just pure sexual carnality. His embrace was comforting, making you feel protected and small in his arms.
His hands grabbed at your ass as he picked you up, sitting you back down onto the bar stool and adjusting the hight while his lips stayed connected to yours. Once the seat was low enough for his liking, he picked up your thighs, shelving them onto his hips and laying you back just enough so that you could lean on the backrest.
The room was sweltering, your body hot against his and anticipating having him buried inside you was getting too much to handle. He dragged his cock through your lips, teasing your clit and moving back down to almost enter you, but he never would. Just wanting to get you all worked up and loving the way you would squirm when he did.
“Daddy.. please.” You steadied yourself by holding on to the sides of the seat, hoping he would end his tournament and fuck you already.
He slid the head barely into you. “Hmm… Since you were so polite, suppose daddy should reward you.” He spoke calmly before snarling and stuffing himself into you, pushing as deeply as he physically could. He felt your walls clamp around him as he set his pace. It was a lot. Having never taken a cock this big and the fact he didn’t even let you adjust, you couldn’t help but wail out.
He shot his hand up to cover your mouth, needing to keep you quiet and seeing you clearly couldn’t do it yourself. “Wouldn’t want to wake up mommy now, would you baby?” you attempted to utter a “No daddy”, but his hand kept your lips glued shut.
He fucked you. Like really really fucked you. He was making the stool shuffle underneath you, the powerfulness of his thrusts causing you to slide down in the seat. The only reason you didn’t slip off completely being the barbarian hold he had on your hips.
It actually surprised you how rough he was. A pleasant surprise, of course, but he had been so delicately caring towards you since becoming your step father and now here you were, receiving the best of both worlds.
The closer you grew to your high, the more incoherent your thoughts became. His eyebrows were scrunched together, lips trembling as he picked you up off the seat and held you closer to him. Supporting your ass, his hips ricocheted up and off yours as he tried desperately not to yell out.
His thumb was brought back down to your clit as he pressed you up against him, swiping at it hellishly, trying to hurry up your release upon feeling your legs begin to quiver; and knowing his own was approaching rapidly.
“That’s it sweetheart, come around daddy’s cock… Gonna cum so fucking deep inside your cunt. Would you like that?” You could see a thin line of perspiration cascading down his cheekbone, he was almost breathless and his thrusts were messier now.
“Yes da-AHH!“ you whipped a hand up to your face, holding your mouth shut as you came. You dug the hand you had placed on his shoulder deep into his skin and was quickly reminded of his marriage to your mother. You hoped you hadn't left any nail indents she might see.
You felt his hot seed spurt onto your walls as he rested his head on yours, mouth open wide and letting out a silent groan. His release was long and powerful. The both of you were left panting, the only noise in the room being your own breaths and a small creak from the stool when he softly set you down onto it.
He pulled out, your mixed juices gushing out of you along with the sexual haze you had been overcome with. The severity of what you had just done began to settle in. His head still resting on yours as you started freaking out, contemplating what would happen if your mother was to ever find out what had just occurred.
You wrapped your arms around his back, needing his comfort and squeezing him in an urgent hug, which he returned. his fingers stroked the sweaty skin of your back, trying to ease the thoughts he too had running through his mind. He lifted your chin up, the look he had in his eyes telling you everything would be okay.
Kissing you cautiously, he savoured the feeling of your lips on his and prayed he would get a chance to feel them again. “Are you okay?” He whispered
You didn’t really know if you were. On one hand, that was something you had wanted for a long time and it had been far better than you ever imagined, but on the other you had just helped your stepfather cheat on your mother. “I don’t know. I think so.”
He stood up, grabbing your sweater and panties, handing them to you before putting his boxers back on. “Well, at least that paper won’t seem like such big problem now.” He chuckled, doing his best to find humour in a humourless situation.
You giggled a little, hurrying to throw on your sweater and being reminded of how he had ruined your panties. “True. Now this can hang over my head instead.” You wiped any left over salvia you had on your face onto your sleeve and thought about how you would probably need to shower after this. “At least the sex was worth it, right?”
He sent you a dark smirk, picking up his bottle of water and walking towards the kitchen door. “It was. hopefully it'll be just as good next time too.” You opened your mouth, faking shock at his confidence as you watched him open the door.
“Goodnight Y/N” He gave you one last look as he sauntered through the door, getting ready to close it behind him and leave you alone in the kitchen with no one but your thoughts. The thoughts of your acts. Remembering all the little moments you had just shared together.
In that last moment before he left, you struck eye contact with him, chewing your inner lip and speaking.
“Goodnight, daddy.”
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Thank you sm for reading!🥺🖤
Tags: @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @ntxoza @blakescoven @ghostangels @jimmason @fernfiction @brattylovee @7-wonders @angelicmichael @melodylangdon @instincts-baby i'm so so sorry if you don't like this kinda fic or it has triggered you in anyway, but just let me know if it has and I won't tag you in this kind of thing ever again! You can also let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list too:)
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mackeydoodledoo · 3 years
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I Only Swim Free: Chapter 5
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Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader
Summary: You’ve done swimming all your life. You’ve gotten to your dream college on a scholarship for your outstanding freestyle technique back in high school. Relationships never crossed your mind however, that was before you met your swim team captain: Bela Dimitrescu.
Warning: Broken Heart, Depression, But it gets fluffier when you read more into this chapter, ends in SMUT
A/N: This chapter about to get SPICY
“Busted and Blue” - Gorillaz
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Word got out [rather quickly] that Bela’s now ex-boyfriend had been cheating on her. Since Bela went to look for you during the fraternity house party.. It was also because of how he was seeing you and her always so in close proximity to each other. Although he feels guilty for what he’s done, he’s been trying to reach back out to Bela to tell her how sorry he is and that he’ll be a better guy for her.
Lousy excuse really.. 
“To be honest I’ve heard lousier excuses from my own past exes,” You sigh, looking down at your textbook, writing down some notes for a class you missed because Bela didn’t want to be left alone, even if it was in your own apartment
“I was right about him,” Daniela called it
“What do you want a cookie?” Cassandra jokingly asks
“Yes,” Daniela says, giving her sister the ‘puppy dog eyes’ 
“Go nuts,” You say, pulling out a cookie you bought from the student center
Daniela happily takes the cookie and immediately bites into it.
“You have to unwrap the plastic first dumbass,” Cassandra sighs, deciding to go up into her room
You took Bela back to her house however, she immediately locks herself in her room. Her mother or her sisters check on her, despite her wanting your company the most. You had been trying to focus on your school work but at the same time trying to be there for Bela as much as you could was already a clashing combo to work with. Luckily, your teammates and her two sisters had been there for her too when you weren’t able to.
“Hey thanks Dani for offering to look after her tonight, I owe you one,” You sigh
“No worries, I knew her boyfriend was nothing but trouble,” She sighs, “But-but you- she’s taken a real liking to you though.”
Well, we did kiss in her car after that one fraternity house party she dragged me to, she continuously stays at my place. Not that I’m complaining though..
“Really?” You ask, slightly blushing, “Well, I wouldn’t want that on our minds right now. Thanks again!”
You heard that Dean Dimitrescu had been close to going at his throat for hurting her daughter. However, she also knew it would look bad on her part; taking her personal anger out on a student was not the best idea. 
“I’m angered just as you are Dean,” You sigh, scribbling into your notebook, breaking the lead in the mechanical pencil
Scribbling into your notebook was one way you were able to take out your frustrations.
“We trusted him,” She growls, pacing in her kitchen, “But, I do highly appreciate you being there for my daughter, is there anything I can do to repay you my dear?”
“Nope,” You sigh, “I don’t want to be given one of those special treatments, even if I am helping one of your daughters.”
I would want you to accept me as Bela’s new Lover. Please and Thank you Dean...
“Well, you’re welcome here,” She slightly smiles, “And please, when it’s after classes, you may refer to me as Ma’am, My Lady or Alcina. Alcina is my first name.”
Very fitting for an elegant lady such as yourself Ma’am.
“Yes Ma’am,” You say, “I’m going to get dinner, Do you and your daughters want anything?”
“I’m sure my girls will text you, I will make due with what we have in this fridge my dear. Thank you for the offer,” Alcina smiles
She tips her hat as you make her leave. You casually salute three fingers to her as you were about to do the same hat tip, just minus the hat. You send out a text in the Dimi-Daughters groupchat Daniela had made for the four of you. Almost immediately Bela and Daniela text you with whatever food they wanted, Cassandra being the last one. 
As soon as you and Bela show up to practice the next day, you were excused from classes as Donna had given the email out to all professors regarding State Finals, Donna has you all gathered at the poolside.
“I have the results of the semi finals roster,” She announces, “And... We are going to the State Final championship!”
You and your team cheer and congratulate each other.
“Okay okay girls calm down,” Donna calms her children, “This doesn’t mean we won’t win, so tonight we will prepare for it, this Saturday.”
In an instant all of the girls began giving their all into swim practice. You on the other hand, were just going through the motions. Not sure how to handle the sudden pressure.
“Didn’t I tell you that we all pull through this together or we lose?” Donna asks, coming up to you
“Yes coach,” You say, sighing
“You’re going to do fine, an excellent rookie like yourself should be proud you get to do this your first year,” She smiles
“True,” You sigh, beginning to shake off your nerves
“Now get your ass into the water y/l/n!” Donna yells encouragingly
After coach’s announcement you finally took a shower after skipping them to beeline it to your apartment for Bela. You turn around once you hear the shower curtain open behind you. you wipe your eyes and see Bela stepping into the shower with you. 
“Hey you,” You smile, giving her a hug
“Hey yourself,” She smiles, putting her arms on your shoulders, “Quite the show at practice today..”
“Says you, even after what happened you still managed to get your shit together and nail practice,” You smile
You snake your hands on her hips as the both of you begin washing each other from the chlorine gathered from today’s practice. Even after giving each other a shower, the both of you just settled in each others’ embrace as the hot shower began wasting away. 
“You remember when we first met in the locker room?” Bela asks, slipping on the hoodie you gave her
“How could I forget?” You smile, slipping on some shorts
“You were looking at my ass through the mirror weren’t you?” Bela asks, smirking
You almost drop your brush as your chees go red and begin heating up. You slightly look up from the mirror and see her slowly walking towards you. Like a predator stalking its prey.
“Did you... Enjoy it?” Bela flirts, turning you around and pushing you against the sink
“Well-I-uhmmm-ummm,” You stutter, trying to find the words
“You did didn’t you?” She smirks, putting her hands on your stomach
You felt yourself tense up when her palms touched your bare skin. You could feel them slowly running up your stomach and begin feeling the tips of her fingers go under your sports bra. 
“Bela! Y/n! Hurry it up I’m going to lock the swimming area soon!” Calls Donna from the entrance to the locker room
The both of you snicker as Bela drags her fingers away from your bare skin; you almost growl when her hands moved away from your skin. Bela practically moved into your place when she got the news. Thankfully her exes fraternity brothers kicked removed him from the fraternity house and helped her with her things when she decided to live with you. 
You and Bela had finally settled a day where you’d take her out to her favorite restaurant, as a make-up for not being able to see her very often. 
“Yeah, midterms are such a pain,” You sigh into your phone, “But, I’ll make sure you get tomorrow night with me okay?”
Bela decided to stay with her family for the next couple days as she’s been cooped up in your place for so long, not that she was complaining, she missed being around her family.
“Thanks for the ride y/n,” Bela sighs in relief, “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” You blush, “Hey, we’ll see each other at practice later okay?”
“Yeah,” She sighs, “I gotta go, mother is calling for me. I love you.”
“Love you too,” You smile through the phone
Wait... She added I into the “love you”.... 
You didn’t say it back, no matter, you’d tell her how you’d feel about her tomorrow night. Even though you haven’t been able to see her, the both of you were able to be on the phone with each other every night before the both of you would go to bed before your classes in the morning. State finals were upon the swim team before finals. So you’ve also been working your butt off for the missed time you’ve had to sit out because of your calf injury from the first meet. 
“Hey you,” Bela smiles as she picks up the phone
“Hey,” you smile, “How you been?”
“Doing a lot better,” Bela smiles, “If you hadn’t hooked me up for that one therapy session, I would have still been sulking.”
“I wouldn’t want that happening to you,” You sigh, “Hey, it’d be better off if you stay at home for tonight. Have an exam tomorrow morning and I have. To. Study!”
“Okay,” Bela sighs, slightly pouting
“Hey,” You say, gently, “We still have dinner tomorrow night. No pouting until before then. Okay?”
She sighs, but shakes it off, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The next evening, You and Bela settled that you would be driving. Once you reach the Dimitrescu estate, you decide to get out of your car and walk up to the front door and knock on it. Cassandra is the one to greet you. 
“Bela’s finishing up y/n,” She says, “Nice getup by the way.”
“Thanks Cass,” You sigh, adjusting your shirt
You wait around awkwardly but you see Dean Dimitrescu sipping on wine in the kitchen.
“Will you do me one big favor y/n?” She calls from the kitchen
“Of course My lady,” You say, turning to her 
“Prove to me on why you’re worthy of my daughter,” She says calmly
“Yes ma’am,” You smile
“Mother I’ll be fine,” Bela calls from the stairs 
You look up and your eyes widen. Bela is wearing a wine red lace dress; the lace drapes behind her legs. You were a sucker for lace. You were a sucker for Bela Dimitrescu. Seeing Bela Dimitrescu IN lace is a whole show.
“Wow...” you say breathlessly as she takes your hand in hers
“Don’t have too much fun now lovebirds,” Daniela teases the both of you
“Shut your mouth Dani,” Bela sighs as she drags you out the door
“Your family is something Bels,” You smile
You open the passenger seat for Bela and she smiles at you as she gets in. Just as you shut her door, you were going to open yours when you see Bela reaching over to open the door for you as best as she could.
“Why thank you my lady,” You smile, getting into your driver’s seat
As you pull into the restaurant that Bela had made reservations for, you’re again in awe. 
“Are you sure you’re fine with paying?” You ask
“You’ve done enough for me. Both taking care of me when I was heartbroken, setting me up for therapy, teaching me freestyle.. The lost goes on,” Bela smiles, “It’s my turn to treat you.”
You couldn’t argue with that. Bela takes your arm as the both of you walk into the restaurant and basically see class. Something you don’t have however, you managed to find your ‘go-to’ nice outfit and a suit jacket at a nearby thrift store. 
“Did I tell you how fine you look?” Bela whispers right into your ear
You felt a shiver crawl down your spine as she asks you.
“No,” You finally say, “Did I tell you though that you look absolutely beautiful?”
Bela blushes as she leads you to a two-person table away from the rest of the patrons.
“Mother made arrangements for us so no need to worry about money,” Bela smirks as she sips water from a fancy glass, “I can easily tell you’ve never been in a fancy restaurant before.”
“Parents could never afford it,” You say, “So, it was the cheap diners. But hey, nothing wrong with diner food every now and then.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Bela adds
After the restaurant date, the both of you reach your apartment by midnight and you allow Bela to enter your apartment first. However, just as you closed the door, she turns to you.
“What is it?” You ask her
She says nothing as she walks up to you and cups your face in her hands. She doesn’t crash her lips onto yours, giving you the chance to pull away if you so chose to. However, your lips gently mold right onto Bela’s. She lets out a high-pitched gasp as you bring her body closer to your, both of your forms fitting perfectly against each other like puzzle pieces. Your hands trail upward to find the zipper to her dress and slowly remove it, teasing her. She helps you slip her out of the dress. She turns her body towards you, revealing a black lace lingerie set.
“Oh? So you’re wearing these for me? Was this all apart of your little plan Bela Dimitrescu?” You ask, slowly walking towards her
“Whatever do you mean,” She bites back
“You know what I mean,” You coil your arm around her waist, “Any pretty kitty like yourself should be punished for tempting me.”
In one quick motion you pick her up into your arms and place her onto your bed as you settle your hips between her thighs. You dip your head down and begin kissing her along the crook of her neck. You smirk in her neck when you hear her let out a small whimper as the tip of your tongue ran gently along her neckline.
“Hmmm sweet music,” You whisper
You lift her up for her to straddle her in your lap. You give her another kiss on the lips before laying gentle kisses along her breasts. Bela guides one of your hands to cup one of her breasts and you oblige. However, your thumb rolls over her nipple, making it hard. You hear Bela let out a strangled moan. Strangled; your mouth was latched onto her throat.
“More,” Bela breathes out
You reach around her back and with a flick of your fingers, her bra unlatches. She lets it fall off her arms and she discards it somewhere onto the floor. 
“What-what do you think?” She asks, blushing
She tries to hide her flushes cheeks and turns her head away from you. You gently run your fingers along her cheek to have her look at you.
“I think, you are so fucking beautiful my love,” You say
Bela sees the moonlight reflection coming off your eyes and she drops her head down for her lips to meet yours. The kiss was at first soft and gentle however, once you gained yourself, you began losing your self control and turned the kiss to be more intense. Bela lets out a muffled gasp as she felt the pillow at the back of her head. You pull yourself away for a moment to strip off your shirt. Bela knew you were fit because of swimming. She never thought she’d be getting up close and personal with you.
“You’re beautiful,” You whisper against her ear
You kiss and lick your way down until you stopped above her bare chest. You look up at her with pleading eyes. 
‘let me’ your eyes pleaded
She runs her fingers through your hair and pushes your face into her breast. You leech onto her nipple and gently make circles around it. She arches her back, forcing your tongue to gently lick the tip of her nipple.
“Y/n!” She gasps
While you run the flat surface of your tongue along the surface of her nipple. Your hand snakes up to her other breast and you squeeze it. Then, gently squeeze her nipple. 
“Ah!” She screams
Your mouth switches onto the other breast to give the same gentle treatment. 
“Y/n...” She says breathlessly
Your fingers trace her curves as you continue your exploration of her body down to her dripping hot center.
“Are you already wet for me?” You ask, once you arrive to her panties
She nods, “You already made me excited...”
You lowly chuckle as your fingers hook around the thin lining of her panties, lifting them. She lifts her hips to help you fully remove them from her body. You, again discard them somewhere onto the floor. Your hands gently run along her thighs to hoist them over your shoulders.
“Hmm, so you were,” You smile
Bela felt you gently breathing against her wet, dripping center, making her squirm a little bit.
“If you’re just going to keep teasing me ju-”
You drag your tongue along her pulsating lips and you insert your tongue into her, making her let out many small whimpers. Her fingers run along into your hair and you feel her pulling against you. She bucks her hips to feel more of your tongue. Your arm reaches around her hip and you press your palm down, keeping her from moving her hips along with your tongue.
“Babyyyyy I need more,” She whines
You pull your tongue out from inside her and give a small kiss on her clit before crawling up to meet her face. You give her a long, lingering kiss for her to taste herself on you.
“You’ll get more kitten you need to be patient,” You chuckle, “But, damn you taste so good.”
“Give it to me now,” She growls
You hook her leg over your shoulder, so that your arm is under her thigh.
“What-what are you- AH!” Bela chokes
She felt your finger insert itself into her. 
“How does that feel baby?” You ask, looking down at her
“It feels so good,” Bela moans
“Good girl,” You coo
You slide your finger in and out of her slowly, hearing her let out little breathless whimpers was music to your ears. You stop for one moment to add another finger when you slid them back in. Bela again arches her back to feel more of your fingers. Your pace began going faster and faster.
“Y/n... I’m-I’m gonna-”
Before you let Bela climax, you force your fingers out of her and hook both of her legs around your hips. You jerk your hips forward to feel her wetness against yours. You let out a growl whilst she lets out a small whimper. You lean down towards her face as you continue grinding on her. 
“Oh god baby,” You growl, picking up your grinding pace
Bela swings her arm around your shoulder and the other around your hips and begins clawing at your back.
“I’m so close y/n,” She whispers in your ear, “Faster.”
You let out frustrated grunts as you stop for a moment.
“Why-why did you s-stop?” She asks, panting
“I want to look at you,” You smile
However, you don’t really give Bela time to process anything before you jerk your hips again, making her lean her head back into the pillow. 
“Together-together y/n,” Bela requests, “I want to cum with you..”
You smirks as you could feel yourself reaching your climax as well. You cup her face into your hands as you begin letting out pants and slight whimpers. 
“Bela...” You whisper her name into her ear, breathlessly
You could feel her nails sink deeper into your back. You didn’t really feel any pain towards her nails. You only felt her clit against yours.
“Bela... Bela... Bela!” You growl as you come undone
Bela holds onto you for dear life as the both of you slowly come down from your high. Everything was blurry in your vision however, Bela was clear as day. You smile as you lean down to kiss her. Once morning hit, you rub your eyes however, Bela’s arm drags your arm back down across her bare waist. 
“Morning baby,” You smile, kissing the back of her head
She stretches her arms as she turns her body so that she’s facing you, “Morning.”
She gives you a good morning kiss and lays in your embrace.
“Hmmm,” Bela hums
“What?” You ask
“Are you sure you haven’t had sex with a woman?” She asks, smiling
“I’m sure love,” You say, “Why?”
“Those fingers... That tongue of yours.. Worked.. Wonders.. On me,” She says, seductively
Your cheeks flush a faint red as she laughs with a low tone. You let go of her and pull the covers over your head in an attempt to prevent her from seeing you blushing however, she follows you under the covers.
“Oh? Is my girlfriend blushing now?” She smirks
“Enough already,” You groan, pulling the sheets to separate the both of you
Bela yanks on the covers and lets out an enticing giggle as she gets up to straddle you. You sit up to snake your arms around her bare midsection.
“Iubita mea,” Bela says
“Hmmm is that.. Romanian?” You ask, blushing while smiling at the same time
“Maybe,” She teases as she drops her head down to kiss you again
It was an early Saturday morning and you weren’t up for it. But, Bela agreed to drive the both of you there.
“You excited?” Bela asks
“As excited as I’ll ever be,” You sigh, “I just hope there’s no last minute events...”
“Coach gave us the whole events roster,” Bela explains, “Rest assured those are the events that are in there, we’ll be doing.”
You smile in relief, “Good, because I think I would permanently damage my calf if I ever did another 1500 meter freestyle event...”
“You’ll be fine,” Bela reassures you
The Arena was a little ways out of hometown but nothing surprising for State Finals. Your team gets there about the same time you do, and follow whomever your guide was for the day. She shows you to the locker rooms, where all of you get changed into your uniform swimsuits and make any last second preparations for the final meet of the season.
“Dimitresu University Women’s swim and dive, you ready?” Your guide comes back into the locker room
Chapter 6
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Text
🐰🎩NEW TRICKS🎩🐰
Prompt: Y/N decides to show Mr. Moxley some new tricks in order to certify him that he is still her number one
Word Count: Long
Pairings: Jon Moxley x Reader
Warnings: +18, oral sex (male receiving), angst, jealousy, cursing, praise kink
Tag: @jibbles26 , @bellalutionn
Notes: I’m a sucker for the power that blowjobs hold upon guys. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories on my Masterlist and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉
“Hi doll, what you’re up to?” He smirks as he nibs my neck
“Just working. Why? Do you need something?” I ask as I remove my reading glasses
“I do, actually”
“What do you need babe?” I look up to his blue eyes that were filled with mischief
“You” He grinned
“Jon, I thought you needed something urgent” I chuckle
“I do!” He pulls me off my desk chair “I missed you so much” He cradled his face on the crook of my neck
“Jon, we’ve had sex six times yesterday and two times this morning, how can you physically still miss me?” I laugh “That’s like, 8 rounds in less than 24 hours babe! And you only got home yesterday”
“I can’t help it that you’re so fucking hot and looks so sexy all the time” He licks a trail from my neck to my lips
I look down to my current outfit that consisted in a comfortable pair of grey leggings, an oversized Korn t-shirt, Wilson’s crew socks, glasses, messy hair and no makeup
“I don’t think I look very sexy right now” I cackled
“Yes you do! You always do!” He pulls me closer to his crotch by my ass “C’mon Y/N, let’s do some fun nasty business, kitten” He slaps my ass quite vigorously
“Tempting, but I’ll have to decline it! Sorry big guy” I patted his chest
“Why?” He whined and stomped his feet like a little kid
“Because some of us got some serious work to do” I smiled fondly as I sit back in my desk chair
“But I wanna be with you! I need you and I want you now!” He pouted
“Jon, I promise you that once I finish this I’ll be all yours ok love?”
“No” He whines “Not later, right now!” He stomps his feet again
Yes, Jon Moxley can be quite the bad boy, but what a lot of people don’t know is that he’s also a fucking whining little baby! He gets an attitude over the dumbest reasons and sometimes this little scenario happens, where he thinks he can whine and pouts his way until he get what he wants. Sometimes it’s cute and charming to see such a big bearded man like him cause such a scene, but another times like right now it’s annoyingly frustrating, uncalled for and the last thing I need to get me even more stressed out.
“Jonathan, don’t start it! You’re not 4 years old! You’re a grown ass man in your 30’s, so behave as such” I turn to my computer and start to type my notes. After 10 minutes I can still feel his presence behind me, making me grow more nervous
“Jon, you’re not helping, my love” I said calmly
“I’m waiting. You said I would have you once you’re done so I’m waiting!” He bitterly said
“Won’t you rather wait in the couch instead? Meanwhile you can pick a movie for us to watch it later” I try to negotiate
“Meh, I’m perfect where I am right now, thanks for the concern” He huffed
*Oh great, what a fucking joy!* I thought
“This might take a while” I defeatedly said
“Don’t worry, I got time” Was his short answer
Fifteen minutes (and a stubborn Jon Moxley sitting on the floor) later I get a call from Peter, my coworker.
“Hey Peter what’s up?” I say holding my phone to my ear with my shoulder “What? Wait Peter, hold on I can’t hear you properly and I can’t stop typing”
“Well, put it on speaker then” Jon mumbled behind me and in my workaholic haze I did it as he told me, forgetting about one little small detail: Peter’s innocent (but also kind of annoying) flirting.
“Pete, can you repeat that again please?” I rapidly say while I type
“I asked when do you think you can send me the paperwork?” He chuckled
“Oh! Can you give me like....30 minutes?”
“I can give you whatever you want” He charmingly said
“Peter, shut up”
“What?” He cackled “It’s true you know, ask and you shall receive, my dear”
“I didn’t knew you were a Jesus fan” I mocked
“I’m your fan” I can hear the smile on his voice
“Whatever weirdo” I brush it off as I continue to type on the dashboard “Is that all you needed?”
“No, there’s one more thing that I forgot to ask you”
“Ok, shoot” I said
“When are you finally going to accept any of my nightcaps invitations?” Pure amusement filling up his voice
“Oh God send me to hell, fuck off Peter!” I jokingly said and hung up
I totally forgot the fact that Jon had heard that until his voice broke the silence
“So how long have you been seeing each other?” He rudely spats
“What? Seeing who?” I ask confused
He stood up from the floor, yanked me off the chair and trapped my body between his and the table.
“Your sweet boy Pete” he coldly smiles
I roll my eyes “Jon, are you really gonna take a guy like Peter seriously? He quotes Jesus to flirt! That’s nothing but pathetic and also slight disrespectful towards Jesus” I joke
“You think this is funny? What if you caught me flirting with a girl from work, how would that make you feel?”
“It depends if you’re gonna quote Jesus or not” I tease
“Y/N I’m fucking serious! Is this a joke to you? Our relationship is a joke to you? Am I a fucking joke to you?”
“My answer is no to all the above. Now if you ask me if I think that you’re overreacting then yes, I do”
“Overreacting? Really? What about all of the nightcaps invitations? Are you gonna tell me I’m overreacting about that too?” His voice starts to rise
“I don’t like your tone Jonathan” I angrily said
“And I don’t like you having an affair with your coworker!” He yelled
“Oh, so I’m having an affair now? Wow, I better accept those invitations then, if I’m going to hold the cheating girlfriend of the year award” I spat
“Are you having an affair with him?”
“How can you even ask that? You know me better than that Jonathan!” Now I’m yelling too, peachy just peachy!
“Well you didn’t answered my question though. Are you?”
“Of course not! What makes you think that?”
“You don’t wanna have sex with me, so where are you getting some? ‘Cause we both know you have quite the appetite for sex, I mean fuck, is hard even for me to keep up with you! You’re like a fucking machine!” He says
My eyes widened in disbelief “So just because I declined to have sex with you 30 minutes ago, because I have to work, I am suddenly a cheater? Or is it because I like to have sex more than the average women do that makes me a cheater? Wow Jonathan, I’ve never heard you say that when one of your male friends cheated. That says a lot”
“Says a lot about what?”
“Your sexist side. Or I don’t know, maybe it’s something else, maybe you are the one who’s cheating on me! So you’re mirroring your infidelity on me”
“Me? A sexist? Now that’s a joke” He laughs “We both know the things you’ve already done to me in the bedroom and trust me pumpkin, if I was a sexist I would never had let you go down that road, if you know what I mean” He measured me up and down “And even if I wanted to cheat on you, which is not the case, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t physically be able to since you knock my ass down every single time we fuck”
“I don’t hear you complain! In fact if I remember correctly you were the one who got in here wanting to have sex in the first place” I huff annoyed
“And I still do kitten” He gets closer
“Don’t touch me, jerk”
“You know how much it turns me on when you get all mad like that, right?” He tried to grab my breasts but I slapped his hands away
“Stop, Jonathan”
“What?” He leans closer, pressing his hardening bulge against my lower belly “Am I not good enough for you anymore? Do you prefer your boy Pete instead?”
“Bullshit” I spat
“Then show me, kitten” He whispers “Show me I’m still good enough for you” He makes me grab a handful of his erection “Show me that you still want me, that I still turn you on”
I pulled him down towards me by his neck, kissing him roughly, biting his lower lip quite harshly
“Hmm” He growls “My kitten is feisty, I like that” He smirks “I love when you’re a bitch to me” He laughs devilishly “Whatcha gonna do, huh?”
I forcefully open the button of his jeans, pulling the fly down and yanking the pants along with his boxer briefs down.
Jon put his hands up, in a surrender position. I lick my palm and close my fist around his cock, pumping it up and down.
“Yes baby” He moaned “Take it! Take what’s yours”
I kneel down and without thinking twice, I swallow his length until it reaches the back of my throat
“Fuuuuck! Y/N, baby...so good, you suck my dick so fucking good kitten! I love it, I fucking love it!” He moans and I push him further down my throat, swallowing around him
“Oh my fuck” He bucks his hips forward in surprise “How can you be so good at this?” He whispers, holding my hair back, so he can watch me sucking him off
“You look so fucking gorgeous sucking my cock baby. Fuck, look at that! Look at how well you take everything in”
I look up at him, hearing him continuing to praise me
“I love when you look at me...so beautiful with your mouth full of cock, so greedy for more aren’t you, baby?”
I nod, lifting his member up so I can lick the bottom half of his shaft, making him moan loudly
“You’re so insanely good at giving head! A fucking pro” He panted “The best head I’ve ever gotten”
I lock my lips around the head, sucking it hard to make him feel the pressure I know he loves, while my hands pump his length with a tight grip
“Oh yes, baby” Jon screamed in pleasure “Oh my fucking- Stop, stop” He moans with his eyes hazy in ecstasy, mouth in an ‘O’ shape as he bites his knuckles to prevent any screaming.
“We both know you don’t want me to stop” I smile, licking from the bottom of the head to his slit
“You’re gonna pay for this” His voice shakily says
“I wouldn’t threaten me if I were you baby” I smirked “I have other tricks that I’ve never showed you before” I whisper, feeling his length throbbing on my hand
“Other tricks?” He faintly whispered
I let go of his member and lay down on the floor beckoning to him.
“Come here Jon, let me show it to you baby”
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