#for now i only have scattered thoughts and lots of emotions
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aleki-lives-here · 17 days ago
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I'm still reading through Network Effect and Murderbot acts like such an angry (and very traumatized, actually) teenager. I love it.
But also it makes me wonder how the idea of age could be applied to it and other constructs? Like obviously there's no age in human sense (no making children, so no growing up stage, and I assume no old age... I wonder if a secunit could grow old if it didnt got killed), but age isn't just about physical changes in the body, it's also just lived experience that allows you to accumulate more data and skills and ways to solve problems and understanding of yourself and the world. Like, these are not synonymous with age as a number, but they are intrinsically linked to how people see different ages, and I say all of them definitely apply to constructs, namely Murderbot, and I think it's fascinating.
Because it doesn't have many general experiences, does it? I wonder how long it worked for before Ganaka Pit. I wonder what the very first moments of consciousness are like for a construct. I wonder what Murderbot was like before it hacked its governor module. And directly after? I wonder what revelations it had about its situation when watching its serials for the first time, and what it already was aware of beforehand. I wonder how much it understood itself and its emotions before it got the relative safety of media to explore the fact that it did feel things.
It, imo, can be incredible immature (see: angry traumatized teenager), but it also must have spent a while figuring itself out. It's more aware of its emotions and reactions than some people I know and can actually articulate (at least to itself) what it's feeling quite often (gods know it's more than I was capable of half a decade ago), but then other things seem to be virtually impossible for it to admit, and it's just so fascinating to watch.
I absolutely love the constant near breakdown it's experiencing this book. Just seeing it work through the emotions and act irrational, it's so fun.
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goxjo · 14 days ago
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! 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚
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+ synopsis. you should’ve known better when you reached out to your ex 1 year after your break up to get your stuff back, especially when the both of you have so many unresolved feelings. of course discussions are bound to get heated very quickly, and getting pressed up against the wall was definitely not according to plan
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+ cw. no curse au, kabedon, light angst, lots of reminiscing, ex! sukuna, he’s incredibly lovesick and jealous, you and your ‘new guy’ are broken up but he doesn’t know that (yet), lots of pent up frustrations, hatefucking, wall sex, cunnilingus, standing prone bone (?), biting, pet names (babe), making up, creampie, soft ending, 2,100+ words, MDNI
+ aki's note. this is part of @ficsforgaza's kinktober event (again, tysm for letting me join uwu). this is my first time writing sukuna this way and I’m ngl I kinda dig it!! thank you so much for the request @unheavenlypacked and for being so patient <3 ++ I know I went over the word count too but I couldn’t help it :’) hope you like it!!!
+ masterlists. general ┆ jjk ┆ kinktober ┆ ffg kinktober
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In hindsight, maybe you should’ve just accepted his offer to drop off your things. After all, it has been a year. You’re almost certain he’s already moved on by now. But you were very particular about not wanting him to go through the trouble, even if he says it’s no big deal.
You should have thought this through.
He opens the door to the apartment you once shared, and you realize a mental note would have to suffice for now. Because of course he just has to be shirtless like he usually is whenever he stays home, body decorated with black intricate lines stretching and scattered everywhere. And you mean everywhere, including places only you and very few others are acquainted with.
He’s as pretty as ever.
To top it all off, he wears that all-too-familiar scowl that frequented his face whatever the emotion — whether he’s happy, sad, angry, or even horny. Something you’ve always found endearing.
You huff a heavy sigh when you realize the last time you saw each other, you were at each other’s throats. A quick mental pinch reminds you what you’re here to do and what you’re not here to do.
You know they lay of the land, you know where everything should be. There’s absolutely no need to delay things. You take one step to the open space to his side.
“If you’ll excu—”
An arm blocks your way and cuts your words off.
“Do you have to?” He lowers his head, face inching closer to yours.
You refuse to meet his gaze, eyes dead fixed on his taut muscles instead. This doesn’t help your case at all. You’re reminded of how much you used to run your fingers across every dip and mound, you’ve practically mapped his body like he’s done with yours.
“It’s about time.” You shift your gaze to the concrete wall before you start to get deeper into your thoughts. “Don’t you think?”
Sukuna clicks his tongue, clenching his fist before dropping his arm, finally letting you pass. He runs his fingers through his hair in defeat, something he usually does out of frustration.
“Suit yourself.”
You rummage through what used to be your side of the closet, shocked to find he’d kept all your things tidy. Like you never left.
“Find everything?” He comes up behind you close enough, you’re certain you’ll bump into him and areas you shouldn’t be. He runs his knuckles along the small of your back, a sense of hesitation in his touch sending shivers down your spine. Even now, this man has very little regard for personal space.
“Almost.” You lightly twist your body, enough to make him withdraw his hand.
Sukuna leans on the edge of the closet as he watches you empty out your belongings.
“So this new guy…” He gestures to the air. “Jo… Joso— what’s his face—”
“Choso,” you correct him. Your brows furrow upon realizing one of your shirts is nowhere to be found.
“Yeah, whatever,” Sukuna snickers. “How’s— uh… how’s that coming along?”
“You really care to know?”
“Fuck no.” Sukuna answers hard and fast, almost spitting to the air.
“Then don’t ask.”
Suddenly, you think to reach behind one of the neatly folded stack of clothes, and you hear him cuss under his breath. And lo and behold, you find your old, worn out, fitted shirt - one that used to make him absolutely go crazy when you wear it.
“Wonder how this ended up there?” Hooked on your finger, you wave the garment around while a guilty Sukuna looks away.
“Fuck.” He clicks his tongue, mumbling. “Can’t even imagine you wearing that in front of him.”
“Wha—” You jolt back, taken aback by his words. “Why do you even care?”
“You seriously going to ask?!”
You blink in disbelief, unable to wrap your head around what you’re hearing.
“You seemed to have no problem when I left, where was this attitude back then?!”
Sukuna jaws clench, taking a deep breath as he throws his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s clearly holding himself back. Slowly, he draws near you, looking into your eyes straight on.
“You told me you fucking needed space.” His voice is low but he emphasizes his words. “But…” His eyes dart to your lips and you don’t miss the way he licks his. “I didn’t ask you to go fuck someone else after 2 whole fucking months!”
“So it’s my fault now?” Your heartbeat thumps against your ribcage as he inches closer and closer to you. “You think I’m gonna sit back after 2 whole fucking months of radio silence?!”
“No!”
“So, then what did you expect me to do?!”
You subconsciously take a step back for every step he takes forward until your back hits the wall.
“I didn’t mean for any of that to happen! I—”
“You what?!”
“Fuck!” he cusses, and the last thing you see is the fist he throws back before you close your eyes and flinch. After that, you hear a thump over your head.
Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him looming over you, arm propped above your head, face just inches away from yours.
His chest heaves.
His eyes are fuming.
And the space is suddenly non existent.
He kisses you so fervently, as if a whole year without you has been torture and your lips are the remedy.
You want to scream at him, pull away and make him pay for what he’s done. The skin on your knuckles thin from how hard you’ve balled them into fists.
You press your knuckles flat against his abdomen, trying pushing him away. But the second your skin meets his, your hands flutter open, roaming his body as you instantly melt into his kiss. It’s ridiculous. This is ridiculous. It’s like you hadn’t just been on a rampage telling him what a big ass he is for how he treated you.
Your hands instinctively try to cup his face but are quickly caught by his, pinning them above your head.
Sukuna pulls away, making you whine at the abrupt separation. Your eyes are drawn to his lips like a moth to a flame. They look shiny from the kiss, and you try to lean forward but he’s got you nailed to the wall.
“Are you being serious right now?” You utter, putting a dirty smirk on his face. “Let me go!” You try to wriggle free off his hold. “Need to wipe that fucking smile off your face.”
Sukuna scoffs. He uses one hand to hold both of yours in place while he cups your chin, thumb glossing over your lower lip.
He takes a deep breath, smug dropping as he scans your face. “I’ve missed you.”
Those words hit the final nail in your coffin. At this point, you know there’s no turning back.
Before you get to answer back, he turns you around, cheek and chest flat up against the wall, entwining his fingers as he presses both your hands on either side of you.
Sukuna grunts, burying his face into your hair as he grinds his erection on your ass.
“Gonna make you forget all about him.”
“Actually, we’re not—” Sukuna doesn’t let you finish, capturing your lips once more.
He lifts your shirt above your tits, smiling in the kiss upon finding you bare underneath. Then he works your pants, pulling them down to your knees, locking your movements.
You hear him shuffling on his knees. You try to turn around but he stops you dead in your tracks. “Keep those fucking hands on the wall.”
Sukuna spreads your ass cheeks open before letting out a hot huff on your pussy. He draws a stripe on your slippery slit, and a moan escapes from your lips.
A soft, wet muscle flicks wonders on your clit, a sensation you’ve missed over the course of a year. You try your hardest not to break but he’s got you so weak in the knees with how good he licks your pussy.
“Sh-it!” You whine. Sukuna sucks your clit and buries his nose in your entrance, making you hold onto the wall for dear life.
A thumb enters your pussy, curling and hooking inside you as his tongue fiddles with your sensitive bud, and at this point you’re a crying mess. He pumps your pussy with two digits as his tongue flicks your clit so fast, you start shaking in your high, doing your best not to fall over.
“Fffuck, Sukuna!”
“God, I’ve missed that sound.”
You catch your breath. The familiar sound of his belt shuffling plays in the background. His pants drop to the floor and you feel his cock spring on your ass.
His wet tip leaves a trace of slick on your ass. His knuckles run up and down your ass as he pumps his cock behind you.
“Oh!” You flinch, mouth forming an ‘o’ and Sukuna chuckles, catching you off guard when he gathers slick from your pussy to lube his cock.
Head ducked, you press your forehead on the wall in your anticipation, feeling your hot breath fan your face as it hits the wall. You’d forgotten how big he is — jaw dropping when just the head of his cock stretches your pussy wide open.
“Sukuna, please— fuck!” Right on cue, his cock slides into you with ease, making you mewl like a kitty.
“Missed your tight pussy, babe.” Sukuna groans as he bottoms out, hand cupping and kneading your tit while he peppers kisses on your shoulder. “Fuck, babe, I’ve missed you.”
“S’kuna~” You tilt your head back and rest on his shoulder, humming his name in a tune that just scratches the itch in his heart and on his cock. “F-fuck me!”
He picks up the pace, practically ramming your body into the wall. His cock feels so good, stretching you out in ways no one’s ever been able to since you broke up. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this — Sukuna whispering the nastiest nothings in your ear, mouth always preoccupied with yours, your tits, your skin, every part of you, fucking you like it’s always the first time.
“Say my name, babe. Fuck! I’ve missed you so fucking bad.” A hand finds your clit and rubs hard and fast and sloppy circles till you’re creaming on his cock.
“Sukuna! Don’t stop— ffuuck!” Your heart beats out of your chest as he fucks your high. Tears prickle your eyes and you’re reminded of a familiar euphoria — one you’d so painfully missed all year long without his company.
You feel a mix of pain and pleasure when teeth sink into your shoulder. You run your fingers through his hair, grabbing hold of his locks when he fucks you so deep his balls start to stick to your pussy. He releases a low grunt, shoving his cock into you a couple pumps more till he starts to fill your insides.
When his cock slides out of you, and his cum begins to drip from your pussy down to your legs, the realization hits the both of you of whatever the fuck just happened.
“I—” Sukuna breaks the silence, “I want you back. Please? Come back to me.”
You turn around seeing his pleading eyes. You weren’t even sure that was ever possible.
Sukuna waits for an answer, but you kiss him instead of giving him one.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” You wrap your arms around his waist, his softening cock pressing against you.
He lets out a low chuckle, corners of his lips upturned as he pulls you closer to him.
“Also, he and I… we’ve broken up months ago.”
The look on his face is priceless. He definitely feels cheated but that slowly turns into relief.
“You idiot. You could’ve told me that sooner.”
“Sorry.”
“Do me a favor,” he mutters. “Wear that shirt for me, please?”
In hindsight, it was a good idea to do this after all. You’ve got your stuff back, and your boyfriend. Plus it’s back to fucking like bunnies for an entire week straight.
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pspsps. reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥︎
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hiitsm · 3 months ago
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Whispers of Desires
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You and your girlfriend are navigating the tender stages of experiencing your first time together.
Whispers of Desires is for 18+ only.
This piece contains intimate conversations about sex, characterized by a mix of awkward, shy, and loving moments. It also includes a depiction of soft, slow, and tender sexual activity, with a focus on emotional connection and mutual care.
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Note: I’ve spent a lot of time crafting this piece, and while it may be a bit longer than initially planned, I felt that each moment deserved the detail it received. I've adjusted it a little. I hope it meets everyone’s expectations. Thank you so much for the kind messages and support after the teaser. I appreciate it a lot.
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The kitchen is warm with the scent of freshly baked pastries, the lingering aroma of sugar and butter mixing with the comforting familiarity of Alexia’s home. You stand at the counter, carefully folding a dishcloth, trying to keep your thoughts focused on the simple, repetitive tasks. The to-do list lies nearby, a silent reminder of the things you can control, and the one thing you can't seem to face.
You glance at the list, its contents scribbled in your neat handwriting:
To-Do List: 1. Clean up the kitchen 2. Fold laundry 3. Talk to Alexia about her sexual desires
Your eyes linger on the third item, the one you've been dreading. With a sigh, you quickly strike through it, the pen's ink cutting across the words as if that could erase the anxiety gnawing at you. You can’t bring yourself to talk to her about that, not yet. What if the rumors are true? What if her desires are something you can't fulfill? You don’t want to lose her, but you also don’t want to lose yourself in the process.
You’ve heard all the rumors about Alexia Putellas. That she loves to dominate, to pull her partners apart with a fierce intensity. That she revels in control, in the thrill of the chase. That her passion is raw and fast. Each whisper you caught only fueled your anxiety, a churning storm of nerves that seemed impossible to quiet. You tried to ignore them, to push the thoughts aside, but they lingered in the back of your mind, casting shadows over the love you share.
And now, with the possibility of taking the next step in your relationship looming before you, the fear has only grown. You’re scared to take that step, terrified that your desires aren’t the same as hers. What if you can’t match her intensity? What if what she wants is something you can’t give? The thought of not being enough for her, of failing her in some way, sends a cold shiver down your spine.
You start wiping down the counters, moving in a methodical rhythm, each swipe of the cloth offering a brief distraction from the storm brewing in your mind. The sponge glides over the cool surface, removing traces of flour and sugar, but the tension in your chest remains.
As you straighten up the scattered baking supplies, your eyes drift toward the small, framed photo on the windowsill. It's a candid shot taken on a sunny day, the two of you caught mid-laughter, arms wrapped around each other, the kind of joy that feels almost too good to be true. The memory makes you pause, your fingers brushing the frame lightly as you wonder if you’re letting your fears overshadow the truth of what you have.
The whispers, the rumors, they all seem so distant when you think about the woman you know. The Alexia who smiles softly at you over breakfast, who texts you in the middle of the day just to say she misses you, who holds your hand like it's the most natural thing in the world. But still, the doubts linger, making you question whether you truly know her as well as you think.
The front door clicks open, and you hear the familiar sound of her footsteps, steady and sure, as they approach the kitchen. You barely have time to turn before she’s there, her presence filling the room with an effortless grace.
“Hola, amor,” she greets you, her voice soft and filled with warmth that wraps around you like a blanket. She glances around the kitchen, taking in the clean counters and organized space. “C��mo va todo?”
You quickly grab the to-do list, folding it in half and slipping it into your pocket before she can see the items you’ve been obsessing over. “Everything’s good,” you reply, hoping your voice sounds more steady than you feel. But Alexia is already closer, her eyes searching yours with a mixture of affection and curiosity.
Before she can ask anything more, you close the distance between you, leaning in to kiss her softly. Her lips are warm, and for a moment, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, shared moment. She hums contentedly against your lips, a small, pleased sound that makes your heart flutter.
“Mmm, that was nice,” she murmurs when you pull back, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. She switches to English, her accent making the words sound even sweeter. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you closer into the safety of her embrace. “What were you up to, amor?”
“Just trying to get things sorted around here,” you say, your voice quieter now, more intimate. “How was your day?”
“Busy, but good,” she replies, her voice a little softer now, as if the closeness between you demands a gentler tone. “I missed you, though.” The sincerity in her voice makes your chest tighten with emotion.
“I missed you too,” you admit, your hand resting on her arm, tracing small patterns on the sleeve of her shirt. You can feel the steady beat of her heart through the fabric, and it gives you a small sense of calm. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
Alexia’s eyes soften as she leans in for another kiss, this one more urgent, more filled with the longing that has been building up in both of you throughout the day. Her lips move against yours with a tenderness that quickly deepens into something more, a hunger that you feel echoing in your own chest.
Your heart races as you return her kiss, your fingers threading through her hair, holding onto her as if she’s the only solid thing in your world. For a moment, you lose yourself in the warmth of her touch, in the way she makes you feel safe and cherished.
But as the kiss grows more intense, a wave of anxiety crashes over you, pulling you back to the surface. You break the kiss abruptly, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Alexia pulls back just enough to look at you, concern etched on her features.
“Qué pasa?” she asks softly, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture. Her eyes search yours, trying to understand what’s going on inside your head.
You struggle to find the words, torn between the love you feel for her and the fear that’s been gnawing at you for days. You want to be honest with her, to share what’s been weighing on your heart, but the words stick in your throat, refusing to come out. You’re scared, scared that your desires don’t match hers, scared that what she wants is something you’re not sure you can give. And more than anything, you’re scared of losing her, of the possibility that this might be something that could drive a wedge between you.
Alexia waits patiently, her gaze steady and filled with a quiet strength that both comforts and intimidates you. She deserves the truth, but you’re not sure you’re ready to face it yourself. Not yet.
Alexia's concerned gaze remains locked on you as you struggle to find the right words. Your chest tightens with the weight of your fears, and you can feel your face flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety. The warmth of her hand on your cheek feels comforting, yet it only amplifies your nervousness. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.
“I—” you start, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been... thinking a lot about us, and, um, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” You stumble over the words, each one feeling like a hurdle you’re barely able to jump. You clear your throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “I mean, I know we’ve been... close and everything, and I love you so much, but... but I’ve heard some things, and I—”
You stop abruptly, your hands gesturing awkwardly as if trying to physically grasp the right words. The shame of not being able to articulate your feelings is almost overwhelming. You glance around, desperately searching for something to focus on.
Alexia, sensing your distress, gently guides you towards the couch. “Come on, amor,” she says softly, her voice soothing. “Let’s sit down. You look like you could use a minute.” She leads you to the couch and gestures for you to sit, her touch light but reassuring.
You sink onto the couch, feeling a mixture of relief and dread. Alexia moves to the kitchen, her movements quick but purposeful. She returns with two glasses of water, handing one to you. “Here, drink this. It might help you feel a bit better.”
You take the glass, your hands still trembling slightly as you sip the cool water. Alexia sits beside you, her proximity comforting, yet her eyes are filled with an inquisitive tenderness. She reaches out and takes your free hand in hers, squeezing it gently.
“Whatever it is, we can talk about it,” she says softly. “I’m here for you.”
Feeling the pressure of your emotions building, you fumble for the to-do list you’d tucked away in your pocket. With a sheepish glance at Alexia, you pull it out and hand it to her. Her eyes widen slightly as she looks down at the list, and you see a faint blush spread across her cheeks.
“I, um, I had this list,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It was supposed to help me keep track of things... but I couldn’t bring myself to talk about... that last item.” You gesture vaguely at the paper, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Alexia’s eyes dart to the list, and she blushes lightly as she reads the crossed-out line. The color in her cheeks deepens, and she bites her lip, clearly feeling a bit awkward about the whole situation. “Oh, um...” she stammers, her cheeks growing warm. “I see you’ve, uh, crossed out that part.”
You can’t help but feel a pang of guilt as you watch her reaction. The sight of her blushing and stumbling over her words makes your heart ache. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I’ve been hearing these things, and I didn’t know if we were on the same page.”
Alexia’s eyes soften with understanding, even though she’s clearly flustered. She reaches out, gently squeezing your hand in a gesture of reassurance. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression,” she says, her voice a little shaky but kind. “I really didn’t mean to cause any worry. I guess I didn’t realize how much those rumors were affecting you.”
You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, they’ve been on my mind a lot,” you admit. “I’m just scared that my own desires might not match up with what you want. I’ve always preferred things to be a bit softer, you know?”
Alexia’s blush deepens, but she quickly shakes off her shyness, her eyes meeting yours with a sincere intensity. “I understand,” she says softly. “And I want to make sure you feel comfortable with us exploring this together.” She pauses, then adds, her voice growing more confident but still tinged with a hint of awkwardness, “I, um, like to be in control and, well, sometimes a bit rough. But that doesn’t mean we can’t adjust things to fit what we both want.”
You feel a wave of relief wash over you at her honesty. “Thank you for sharing that,” you say, your voice tinged with gratitude. “I really appreciate you being open with me. Can I ask you something? What do you like, exactly?”
Alexia takes a deep breath, her shyness melting away as she becomes more animated. “I, um, really enjoy taking the lead, feeling like I’m in charge,” she says, her eyes brightening with a newfound confidence. “But I also love hearing what you like, what makes you feel good. I want to make sure we both have what we need.”
Her willingness to adapt and consider your feelings makes you feel incredibly valued. You squeeze her hand back, your heart swelling with appreciation. “I like it when things are gentle and tender,” you admit, feeling more at ease now that the conversation is flowing openly. “It’s important to me that we both feel good about what we’re doing.”
After the conversation, the dynamic between you and Alexia shifts subtly but significantly. There’s a new warmth in her gaze, an added layer of intimacy that wasn’t there before. The initial awkwardness has melted away, replaced by a deeper understanding and a tangible current of desire that flows between you.
In the days that follow, the air seems charged with a new energy. You notice the way Alexia's touches linger a little longer, the way her kisses are filled with a gentle urgency that wasn’t there before. Conversations take on a more flirtatious tone, filled with playful teasing and soft, suggestive glances. The connection between you feels more electric, more alive, as if the boundaries between affection and desire have become wonderfully blurred.
One evening, after a particularly busy day, you find yourselves curled up on the couch together. The soft light of the lamp casts a warm glow around the room, creating an intimate cocoon where it’s just the two of you. Alexia’s head rests on your shoulder, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on your arm as you talk about your day.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about,” Alexia murmurs, her voice low and warm. Her breath tickles your skin, sending a shiver of anticipation through you. “I’m really glad we had that conversation.”
“Me too,” you reply, your voice soft. “I feel like things are... different now, in a good way.”
Alexia lifts her head, her eyes meeting yours with a sparkle of playful mischief. “Different how?” she asks, her voice taking on a teasing edge.
You smile, feeling a flush of warmth at her proximity. “Well, for one, there’s this new... tension between us,” you say, your words coming out with a hint of nervousness and excitement. “I feel it every time we’re close.”
Alexia’s smile widens, her eyes darkening with a mix of affection and desire. “I’ve noticed that too,” she says softly. She leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss that quickly deepens into something more passionate. Her hands find their way to your face, cupping it gently as her kisses grow more fervent.
As the days pass, the physical connection between you both becomes more intense. You find yourselves stealing kisses whenever you can, your touches lingering with a newfound intensity. Each caress, each look, becomes a promise of what’s to come, a gentle build-up to the moment when you’ll finally give in to the desire that’s been growing between you.
With your heart full of anticipation and a touch of nervousness, you decide to make tonight special. Something that reflects the tender connection you both cherish. You spend the afternoon preparing, wanting every detail to be perfect.
The apartment is filled with the warm, inviting scent of your cooking. You’ve prepared a simple yet elegant dinner, something that you know Alexia loves. The table is set with your best dishes, a bottle of wine breathing on the side, and soft, flickering candlelight casting a golden glow over everything. The lights are dimmed, the apartment bathed in a warm, romantic ambiance that feels almost magical.
You’ve added little touches around the room. Fresh flowers in a vase on the table, the soft strains of music playing in the background, the living room rearranged slightly to create a more intimate setting. It’s a space that feels safe and inviting, designed to make tonight memorable.
As the time draws near, you catch yourself fidgeting with the edges of your dress, smoothing out invisible wrinkles, adjusting the candles on the table one last time. There’s a nervous flutter in your stomach, a mix of excitement and anxiety as you wait for Alexia to arrive. You want everything to be perfect, but more than that, you want to show her just how much she means to you.
As the final touches are set, you hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. You quickly smooth down the fabric of your dress, a soft blush warming your cheeks. You’ve chosen something special for tonight. An elegant dress that flows gracefully, making you feel beautiful and confident, even if your heart is still racing with anticipation.
When Alexia steps into the apartment, she pauses in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the sight of you. Her reaction is immediate and genuine. A wide, happy smile spreads across her face, lighting up her features. For a moment, she just stands there, staring at you as if she’s seeing you for the first time. The look of admiration in her eyes makes your heart swell with warmth.
“Wow,” she breathes out, her voice tinged with awe. “You look... increíble, amor. So beautiful.” She takes a step closer, her gaze sweeping over you with a mixture of affection and admiration. “I—I’m so lucky,” she stammers, her usual confident demeanor giving way to a shy, almost bashful expression.
You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at her praise, and you can’t help but smile shyly. “Thank you,” you reply, feeling a rush of warmth from her words. The way she’s looking at you makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.
Alexia’s gaze then shifts momentarily to her own outfit—casual training wear that she’s clearly worn just for comfort. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as she nervously tugs at the hem of her sweatshirt. “Oh, I, um... I didn’t realize I’d be, uh, underdressed,” she stammers, her eyes flitting between you and her own attire. “I didn’t expect—”
You cut her off gently, stepping closer and taking her hand in yours. “You look great,” you say sincerely, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I love how soft and relaxed you look. I just wanted to make tonight special for you, for us. It’s not about the clothes. It’s about being together.”
Alexia’s blush deepens, but she seems to relax at your words. She looks into your eyes with a mixture of gratitude and affection. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softening. “You really didn’t have to do all this, but it means so much that you did.”
Without another word, she leans in and presses a tender kiss to your lips. The kiss is warm and full of affection, a perfect encapsulation of the love and understanding that has blossomed between you. When she pulls back, her eyes are filled with a soft, loving glow. “I’m really lucky to have you,” she murmurs, her voice full of emotion.
Her words are reassuring, and you feel your nervousness begin to fade, replaced by a sense of calm. You lead her to the table, pulling out her chair before taking your seat across from her. The candles flicker between you, casting soft shadows on her face as she looks at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell.
Dinner is a quiet, intimate affair. The conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and shared glances that say more than words ever could. The food is delicious, but it’s the company that truly makes the evening special. With each passing moment, the connection between you deepens, the unspoken promise of what’s to come lingering in the air.
After the last bite of dessert, Alexia leans back in her chair, her eyes never leaving yours. “This was amazing,” she says, her voice low and warm. “Thank you for doing all of this.”
You smile, feeling a flush of pride at her words. “I’m glad you liked it. I just wanted us to have a night that’s... just for you, for us.”
Alexia’s eyes soften even more, and she reaches across the table to take your hand, her thumb gently stroking the back of it. “You’ve made me feel so special tonight,” she murmurs, her voice filled with emotion. “And I want to make sure you feel the same.”
The intensity in her gaze sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s a different kind of shiver than the anxiety you’ve felt before. It’s one of anticipation, of knowing that you’re about to share something incredibly intimate and meaningful with the person you love. You nod, unable to find the right words to express what you’re feeling, but knowing that she understands.
She stands, pulling you up with her, and with a gentle smile, she leads you into the living room. The atmosphere here is even more intimate, the music playing softly in the background, the candles you’d placed around the room casting a soft, romantic glow. Alexia pauses in the middle of the room, turning to face you, her hands resting lightly on your waist.
She looks at you with such affection, such care, that it takes your breath away. “Are you okay?” she asks softly, her voice filled with concern and love. “We can take things slow, amor. There’s no rush.”
You nod, your heart full of love for her. “I’m okay,” you reply, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “I want this... with you.”
Alexia’s smile is soft and full of warmth. She leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, one that speaks of all the tenderness she feels for you. The kiss deepens slowly, her hands moving up to cup your face, her thumbs brushing your cheeks in a gesture that is both protective and loving.
As the kiss lingers, your hands find their way to her back, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. The room seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this bubble of intimacy. The fears and doubts that had once clouded your mind now seem distant, replaced by the certainty that this moment, this connection, is exactly where you’re meant to be.
When she pulls back slightly, her forehead resting against yours, you can see the love and desire in her eyes, tempered by the same care she’s shown throughout the night. “I want you to feel safe with me,” she whispers, her breath warm against your skin. “And I want you to tell me if there’s anything you need, anything you want.”
You nod, your heart swelling with emotion. “I feel safe with you,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your feelings. “And I want to be with you... just like this.”
Her smile is full of understanding, and she takes your hand, leading you to the couch where you’d spent so many nights talking, laughing, and just being together. But tonight, it feels different. There’s a sense of anticipation, of something new and beautiful blooming between you.
She sits down, pulling you gently onto her lap, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels both protective and possessive. Her lips find yours again, the kiss slow and tender, her hands exploring your body with a softness that speaks of her care for you. You feel her breath hitch slightly as her hands move over the curves of your body, her desire evident but tempered by the gentle way she touches you.
You respond in kind, your hands moving through her hair, down her back, holding her close as you both sink deeper into the kiss. The world outside ceases to exist, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace.
Her lips trail from your mouth to your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, each one sending a shiver of pleasure through you. Her hands continue their gentle exploration, never rushing, always mindful of the pace you’ve set together. You can feel the tension in her body, the restraint she’s holding onto, and it only makes you love her more.
You shift slightly, straddling her lap, your hands resting on her shoulders as you look into her eyes. “Alexia,” you whisper, your voice filled with all the love and desire you feel. “I want this... with you.”
Her eyes darken with desire, but there’s also a softness there, a tenderness that reassures you. “I want this too,” she murmurs, her hands settling on your hips, holding you close. “More than anything.”
The moment feels like it’s wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and mutual affection. Alexia’s fingers gently trace the curves of your waist, and you can feel the connection between you growing stronger with each passing second.
Suddenly, with a playful glint in her eye, Alexia shifts slightly beneath you and starts to rise. You yelp in surprise, your arms tightening instinctively around her shoulders as she lifts you effortlessly from her lap. Her strength is both reassuring and exhilarating, a reminder of her athletic prowess.
“Whoa, careful!” you laugh nervously, gripping her tightly as she stands up. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and she chuckles softly at your reaction.
“Relax,” Alexia teases gently, her voice low and soothing. “I’ve got you. I’m an athlete, remember?” She holds you securely against her, her muscles flexing as she adjusts her grip to make sure you’re comfortable.
With a tender smile, Alexia walks slowly towards the bed, her steps measured and deliberate. As she reaches the edge of the mattress, she carefully lowers you onto the soft surface. Despite her careful movements, you cling to her, your arms wrapped around her neck as if reluctant to let go.
She pauses for a moment, her eyes roaming over your body with a mixture of admiration and affection. Her gaze lingers on you, taking in the sight of you stretched out on the bed, your dress clinging to your form in a way that makes her eyes darken with desire.
A warm, affectionate smile spreads across her face as she looks up at you. The connection between you both feels electric, charged with an intensity that makes your heart race. Without breaking eye contact, Alexia leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. The kiss is soft and lingering, a promise of the intimacy to come.
As she deepens the kiss, she begins to lay her own weight down beside you, her body pressing against yours with a comforting warmth. You can feel her heartbeat against your chest, syncing with your own in a rhythm that feels perfectly natural.
Her hands explore your dress, her fingers tracing along the fabric as she starts to unfasten it. You help her, your movements synchronized as you pull the dress up and over your head. The dress slides off with a soft rustle, leaving you in your underwear.
Alexia’s fingers trail along your exposed skin, her touch light and teasing. She smiles up at you, her gaze filled with adoration. “You look beautiful,” she murmurs, her voice low and sincere. The way she looks at you makes you feel cherished, every inch of you appreciated.
She then starts to peel off her tracksuit, her movements slightly awkward as she tries to juggle her clothing while maintaining her focus on you. You help her, your fingers brushing against her skin as you assist with removing the tracksuit. Her clothes fall to the floor in a soft heap, leaving her in a simple, form-fitting top and underwear.
With the room filled with a tender, expectant silence, you take a deep breath, your fingers hovering hesitantly above her skin. You let your hands drift toward her chest, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You want to trace your fingers over her beautiful breasts, but you hesitate, unsure if you’re crossing any boundaries.
Shyly, you lift your gaze to meet hers, seeking reassurance in her eyes. The vulnerability in your expression is met with a soft, reassuring smile from Alexia. Her eyes, full of warmth and encouragement, seem to invite you to continue.
“Está bien, amor,” she whispers in Spanish, her voice soothing and full of affection. She gently takes your hands in hers, guiding them with a loving touch to cup her breasts. The warmth of her skin beneath your palms is both exhilarating and comforting.
As you make contact, Alexia lets out a soft, breathy moan, a sound so beautiful and intimate that it sends a shiver of pleasure through you. The sound resonates deeply within you, amplifying the connection you share and making you feel incredibly close to her.
With a gentle yet assertive grace, Alexia begins to take more control of the moment. She shifts her weight slightly, pressing her body more firmly against yours, allowing her warmth and softness to envelop you. Her hands glide over your body with a tenderness that feels both exhilarating and reassuring.
“Just let me guide you,” she murmurs softly, her voice a mix of confidence and tenderness. “Tell me what you like, and we’ll explore this together.”
You nod, your breath coming in soft, uneven gasps as you let her lead. Her fingers trail down your sides, exploring your curves with a careful touch that sends waves of pleasure through you. She lifts her gaze to yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, and you respond with a soft, encouraging smile, giving her the silent permission she needs.
Alexia’s hands continue their journey, gently slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. She eases them down slowly, her movements deliberate and careful as she uncovers your skin. The cool air against your exposed core contrasts with the warmth of her touch, intensifying the sensations you're experiencing.
As she removes your underwear completely, she turns her attention to her own, her fingers deftly working to peel them away. The sight of her undressing, her body illuminated by the soft light, makes your heart race with anticipation. When she finally discards her last piece of clothing, she pauses, letting you take in the beauty of her fully exposed form.
Overwhelmed by the intimacy of the moment, you slowly shift into a sitting position on the bed, reaching out to wrap your arms around her. The softness of her skin against your body is electrifying, and you hold her close, your breath mingling with hers.
You lean in to plant gentle kisses on her exposed breasts, your lips brushing against her warm skin with a reverence that conveys just how much you adore her. Each kiss is tender, filled with love and a desire to show her how much she means to you.
You then trail your kisses down her left inner arm, admiring the beauty of her tattoo as your lips make contact with her skin, adding a layer of intimacy and appreciation to the tattoo. You slowly and softly set you teeth in her soft flesh.
The sensation of your kisses and bites elicits a soft, appreciative sigh from Alexia, her body responding to the gentle affection. “I like that,” she murmurs softly, her voice laced with warmth and pleasure. “It feels so good.”
She continues to revel in the intimacy you’re sharing, her hands tenderly caressing your back as you continue to kiss her. The closeness between you both becomes even more palpable, each touch and kiss a testament to your deep connection.
After a while, with a loving and considerate touch, Alexia gently guides you back onto the bed. “Let’s take our time,” she says softly, her voice filled with reassurance. As she helps you settle onto your back, her gaze remains tender and attentive, ensuring you feel both comfortable and cherished.
Once you’re comfortably situated, Alexia positions herself above you with a graceful and deliberate motion. Her core makes contact with yours, and she begins to move with a slow, rhythmic motion. She rocks back and forth with a gentle, deliberate pace, creating a sensation that blends pleasure with the perfect amount of pressure.
Her movements are tender yet purposeful, each shift and glide against you enhancing the intimate connection you’re experiencing together. The rhythm she sets is both soothing and stimulating, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the shared moment of closeness. The feeling of her body moving against yours is a harmonious dance of pleasure and tenderness, deepening the bond you share and making each moment feel incredibly special.
As the pleasure builds, you finally allow yourself to be vocal about how good she makes you feel. Soft, breathy moans escape your lips, each sound a testament to the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. You find yourself unable to keep quiet, your voice betraying the immense pleasure you’re experiencing. The sounds you make only seem to encourage Alexia, her own movements becoming more attuned to your responses, amplifying the mutual pleasure you both are sharing.
As the pleasure between you builds, Alexia’s focus remains unwaveringly on you. Her eyes, filled with a mix of adoration and passion, roam over your face and body. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, her voice tender and filled with genuine appreciation. “And you make me feel so incredible.”
Her words are a soothing balm, adding to the warmth of the moment. The pleasure between you becomes almost overwhelming, and in the throes of it, her movements start to quicken. The rhythm of her grinding grows faster, her passion driving her actions as she becomes more lost in the sensation.
In her heightened state of desire, Alexia’s hand reaches out and firmly grabs your right breast, her fingers pinching your nipple roughly. The unexpected intensity makes you gasp in surprise, your body reacting sharply to the sensation. Her eyes widen in alarm as she notices your reaction, and she immediately halts her movements.
“Oh mierda, lo siento, lo siento mucho,” she breathes, her voice laced with concern. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Despite the sudden stop, the sensation had been unexpectedly pleasurable, and you find yourself blushing, feeling exposed but also intrigued. You look up at her, your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. “It, um, actually felt good,” you admit shyly. “If you want to, you can continue.”
Alexia’s expression shifts from concern to a warm, relieved smile. Her eyes reflect a blend of affection and excitement as she takes your words to heart. “Are you sure?” she asks softly, her voice tender and filled with a gentle eagerness.
You nod, feeling a newfound confidence in sharing your desires. “Yes, I’m sure,” you affirm. “I trust you, and I want to experience this with you.”
With your reassurance, Alexia resumes her movements, her touch becoming more deliberate and attentive as she finds a rhythm that balances both pleasure and sensitivity. Her continued exploration of your body is filled with a renewed passion and care, ensuring that every moment is both thrilling and deeply intimate.
As the sensations between you intensify, Alexia’s movements become a rhythmic dance of passion and tenderness. Her body rocks gently but purposefully against yours, each motion sending waves of pleasure through you. She maintains a steady gaze, her eyes never leaving yours, communicating unspoken affection and desire.
“You feel so amazing,” she murmurs softly, her voice a tender caress against your ear. “I love the way you respond to me.”
Her words are a constant comfort, her sweet reassurances adding an extra layer of intimacy to the moment. She leans down to kiss you, her lips finding yours with a fervent yet gentle touch. The kiss is a melding of emotions, a silent conversation of love and longing that deepens with each passing second.
As the pleasure reaches its peak, her hands move with a delicate precision, enhancing the sensations and making sure you feel cherished and adored. She holds you close, her body pressed against yours, and the steady rhythm of her movements becomes a perfect symphony of shared ecstasy.
The culmination of your mutual pleasure comes as a breathtaking crescendo. You both feel the rush of release, a powerful and overwhelming wave that washes over you, leaving you breathless and blissful. Alexia’s soft, contented moans mix with your own vocal expressions of pleasure, creating a harmony that is both beautiful and deeply personal.
You kiss her tenderly, your lips moving in a gentle rhythm that matches the lingering waves of pleasure. The kiss is a promise of love and devotion, a sweet exchange that further cements the bond you share. Her hands cradle your face, her touch tender and reassuring as she pulls back slightly to look into your eyes.
“Thank you for being so amazing,” you whisper, your voice filled with genuine affection. “I’ve never felt this close to anyone before.”
Alexia’s eyes shine with a mix of love and satisfaction. “It’s because of you,” she replies softly. “You’ve made this so special. I love you so much.”
As the euphoria of the moment begins to settle, Alexia’s teasing smile makes a reappearance, her eyes twinkling with playful affection. She leans in close, brushing a strand of hair from your face before speaking, her tone light yet filled with meaning.
“I don’t stand a chance of having a normal life with you, do I?” she teases, her voice laced with warmth. “You’ve made me want to do this with you every single moment, exploring new things, finding out what we both like. We’re just getting started, and I’m so excited to explore even more with you.”
She punctuates her words with that little shy smile of hers, the one that always manages to melt your heart. It’s a perfect blend of her natural confidence and the sweet, awkward vulnerability that makes her so endearing.
You can’t help but laugh softly at her words, feeling both exhilarated and a little overwhelmed by the intensity of your connection. “Gosh, what have I gotten myself into?” you tease back, your tone playful but your heart swelling with affection.
Alexia chuckles, her smile widening as she leans down to kiss you again, this time more slowly, savoring the moment. “Whatever it is, I hope you’re ready for it,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice carrying both a promise and a challenge.
“I am,” you whisper back, feeling a surge of anticipation for the adventures yet to come.
With her by your side, you’re ready to explore everything. Every desire, every emotion, every new discovery. As you lie there in each other’s arms, the future feels wide open, full of possibility, and you know without a doubt that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
As you hold Alexia close, the warmth of her embrace and the depth of your connection make you realize how unfounded your doubts had been. In this moment of intimacy and understanding, you know with certainty that your fears were unnecessary, and that what you share is stronger and more beautiful than you ever imagined.
-
Note: I realize that some transitions might not be as smooth as l'd like, and plan to refine them later. I just wanted to share this now, even though I haven't done a thorough grammar check yet. Please be gentle with your feedback!
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vitalverstappen · 20 days ago
Text
Homecoming - C. Leclerc
summary: have you ever had a massive crush on your team rival?
pairing: Charles Leclerc x Red Bull driver! reader
warnings: drinking, swearing, use of y/n
word count: 5.5k
a/n: so @coco-loco-nut (aka my irl bestie) and i both wrote fics based on the same concept, theirs is linked at the end!
smau
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Contrary to popular opinion, Monaco was one of, if not your least favorite racetrack. It was narrow, making it hard to pass and way too easy to defend. Analysts would say all of that makes the Grand Prix exciting, while you found it to be just plain stupid. For the last half of the race, you were stuck in a DRS train in 10th, sandwiched between Alex in front and Pierre behind. 
“Fucking hell guys, this is boring.” You complained over the radio “Sorry I can’t do any better right now” 
And you couldn’t do any better the rest of the race. While your race was nowhere near eventful, you were able to get glimpses of the screens showing Charles crossing the checkered flag first at his home race. You didn’t bother fighting the smile growing on your face. He had worked all of his life for this moment. He deserved every bit of euphoria. 
You slid into parc ferme along with the rest of the midfield, barely able to get out of the car and reconnect your steering wheel fast enough. Sprinting down parc ferme, you found Charles celebrating with his team and family. When he eventually wriggled his way out of their grasp, you were able to approach him. 
“Congrats Charlie. Well deserved man” You said, embracing him in a hug 
“Thank you, thank you” Was all he was able to get out. 
As the podium celebration ensued, you and Max made your way to the media pen. Dozens of news outlets were scattered around the barrier, prompting you to separate from your teammate. The interviewer greeted you before going through the standard questions of what went wrong in the race. 
“Now let’s talk about something that happened after the race” The interviewer spoke, leading you to raise an eyebrow. “I think everyone who wasn’t looking at Leclerc was watching you run down parc ferme to greet him. Can you tell me a bit about that?” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle. At the time, you didn’t think twice about doing it, but being asked about your actions, you probably looked crazy doing it. “Yeah I mean it’s always exciting watching someone win their home race. It’s something I’ve dreamed of since I started watching Formula One as a little girl” 
A pause took over for a moment as you decided on the best way to word your next thoughts. “Charles is a very good friend of mine. He’s someone who welcomed me to the championship with open arms last year. On track I always want to give him a good fight if possible, but off the track I’m always going to support him.” 
Now Charles wasn’t usually one to eavesdrop on interviews. Most of the drivers said the same things over and over again, occasionally rephrasing. But whenever he heard your sweet southern accent, he couldn’t help but to listen in on what you had to say. 
When your words hit his ears, he could feel his heart stop. He wasn’t expecting you to confess a secret crush that no one knew you had to some interviewer, but a guy could dream. Instead, you very publicly friendzoned the Monegasque. 
Little did he know, you did in fact have a massive secret crush that only one person knew about. That one person was your teammate. And boy did he know a lot about it. 
“Did I just friendzone Charles with that?” You asked as the two of you walked towards the Red Bull garage for the team meeting. 
“Honestly maybe” Max said “Depends on if Charles is smart enough to realize you said it because you weren’t stupid enough to reveal your emotions to the media” 
“So then I definitely friendzoned him. Got it” You sighed
You weren’t sure if it was just how boring the entire day was, but the team meeting felt like it was dragging on. While you were zoning in and out of listening to Horner and Marko explain every single thing that was wrong with how you drove, you spotted Max next to you on his phone. 
“What are you doing?” You whispered 
Max’s head snapped up to look at you, quickly turning off his phone as he did so. “Oh, uh nothing” 
You shrugged, not thinking anything of Max’s reaction. He was always a private person, and you understood not wanting anyone to know your private conversations. 
Later that night, you traded your fireproofs for a little black top and jeans, as you and the grid were going out to celebrate Charles’ win. You were the last of the drivers to arrive, all of the boys jokingly blaming it on the fact you took longer to get ready, but in reality you needed the time to calm your nerves. 
You had gone to the club with the grid plenty of times before, but none of them revolved around Charles being the center of attention. You knew he was going to be bouncing around the group, spending time with everyone, and you were sure you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself. 
Meanwhile, Charles was worrying about himself. When he drank, he got flirty. He knew it, Max knew it, even the fans knew it. The only person he was sure didn’t know was you. And that was only because he never drank as much as he usually does when he’s around you. 
He was already a few drinks deep when you finally showed up. He was near the back of the room, but he could spot your figure from a mile away. As you navigated through the sweaty bodies and sticky floors, Charles was easily able to get your attention by a wave of his hand. 
That wave turned into a hug, followed by a kiss on either cheek from the Monegasque. You realized it was just a cultural difference, and that’s how he greeted all of his female friends, but that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering. 
“Congrats again Charlie” You said finally spoke 
“Thank you mon amour, why don't I get you a drink to celebrate?” He asked, his words already starting to slur a bit 
“I can pay for myself. If anything so should be getting you a drink, for the winner after all” You replied. 
“No, no, no. Let me get it for you.” He insisted “You wouldn’t want to disappoint the winner, now would you?” 
You knew you weren’t going to win this round, so you let him buy you a drink. He followed you up to the bar where he easily got the attention of the bartender. 
“Moscow mule and a vodka redbull, blue edition” He ordered
Your head snapped to look at him, surprised he knew what you wanted. Regardless of how many times you’ve gone out drinking with him, you knew you never told him what your usual was. 
“You know my drink order?” You asked 
“I’m just that good” He shrugged as the bartender handed him the beverages. Charles handed you the vodka redbull as the two of you walked away from the bar. “Feel free to put the rest of your drinks on my tab tonight” 
It was a no-brainer that Charles was going to be the center of attention all night. Not even thirty seconds after you got your drinks, his childhood friends whisked him away. Then it was his friends from Ferrari. And then his brothers. And then those people who claimed they were friends with him, but only got close with him after he became famous. 
But no matter how many times he got carried away, he always found his way back to you. Even if it was just for a second, Charles made sure he checked on you throughout the night. 
The majority of your night was spent with Max, Logan and Oscar. You were lucky you got along well with your teammate, and you, Logan, and Oscar all grew close due to being the rookies the season prior. It also helped that Logan was the only other American on the grid. 
“So what���s going on between you and Charles?” Oscar asked 
“Oh uh nothing. We’re just friends” You said, hoping the Aussie would drop the topic 
Unfortunately for you, Logan decided to call you out. “Oh bullshit. I overheard him insisting on buying your drinks tonight, and we all saw you sprinting earlier to congratulate him” 
“Charles is too drunk to realize what he’s offering” You quickly dismissed 
“Still doesn’t explain your actions in parc ferme” Logan reminded
You looked to Max for help, only for the Dutchman to shrug.
“You are no help” You told him as you turned to the two others “I may have a small crush on him” 
Max almost did a spit take when he registered your words. “Small? You were doodling both of your initials together during the team meeting today.”
“Details, details. How about another round?” You suggested, quickly changing the subject. 
The four of you had just finished a round of shots when you saw Charles approaching from behind Max. The Monagasque rested his arm on Max’s shoulder, clearly needing stability. His eyes widened and a goofy smile formed on his face when he saw you. 
“There you are!” Charles slurred, moving his arm from Max’s shoulders to yours 
“Oooohkayy, I think it’s time for you to go home” You said, shifting to support his weight better “C’mon Charlie”
“Ooo Charlie” Logan teased 
You shot the American a glare, mouthing the words “not now”. Charles somehow got himself off of you, only to wrap his arms around himself, embracing his own body in a hug. 
“Uh, are you good?” Oscar asked Charles, his voice filled with concern 
“Yes, just thanking myself for coming out tonight. I picked a great bar” Charles answered with a goofy grin forming on his face. His eyes were shut as he swayed back and forth, almost knocking into a poor girl behind him. 
Apologies quickly fell out of your mouth to the girl. As you turned back to the group, all of the boys except Charles had worry plastered on their faces. Both Max and Oscar offered to help you take Charles home, but you turned them down. His place was only a few blocks away, and your hotel was about the same. You slung Charles’ arm over your shoulder, before bidding goodbye to your friends. 
“Bye Charlieeee” Logan teased his fingers waving goodbye. Another glare was shot from your eyes before Charles was carried out to the street. 
It didn’t take long to get Charles to his apartment. You insisted he sit down as you got him a glass of water, knowing he was too far from sober to do it without breaking or hurting something. Once he downed his first non alcoholic beverage in who knows how long, he changed and you put him to bed. 
You were sober and comfortable enough to walk yourself home, so once Charles was tucked in, you slipped your shoes on. Before you could get near the door though, you heard Charles calling your name. 
“What’s up?” You whispered as you opened the door to his bedroom. 
His eyes mimicked a puppy dog, pleading and full of concern. “I don’t want this to sound weird, but do you want to stay in the guest room tonight? I just don’t want you walking alone in the dark” 
Even though you knew you’d be fine walking home, you knew Charles would blame himself if something did happen to you. So, you agreed. You changed into one of Charles’s shirts that he insisted on you sleeping in, and made your way to the guest room. 
Neither of you dared to bring up what happened in Monaco. Not that anything bad happened, it was simply you didn’t know how the other felt, and it wasn’t a line either of you were comfortable crossing yet. 
Going into media day, you knew the press conference was going to be boring. It was Monza weekend, and your media group consisted of Lando, Pierre, Franco, and Charles. Having the attention on Charles was fine by you. You would be fine without the media taking your words out of context. 
With each question directed at Charles, you zoned out more and more. Thoughts of what you were going to do during the three week break crossed your mind. While traveling around the world for work was fun, home truly was where your heart lived. Your thoughts were cut off by someone tapping you. Looking to your right, Franco’s eyes met yours.
You had made some small talk with Franco throughout the day, wanting to welcome him into the league the same way you were last year. It was painful to receive the news that Logan was being replaced, but you couldn’t resent the newcomer, he just happened to be the one that was promoted.
“Is this usually this insufferable?” He whispered, genuine concern lacing his voice 
You stifled a laugh, careful not to interrupt Charles “Not this bad usually, but yeah it’s bad” 
“Great” He muttered “Thought I escaped it when I got promoted” 
The press room grew silent, leading you and Franco to press pause on your conversation. All eyes were on the two of you, while you guys gave blank stares back. 
“Did you hear the question?” The interviewer asked 
Franco chuckled awkwardly as he brought the microphone to his mouth. “Honestly? No. Bad first impression, so sorry” 
“No worries. Welcome to F1 Franco.” The interviewer said “For a fun question for the drivers: is there a certain trait that another driver has that you wish you had?” 
Franco thought for a second before opening his mouth to speak “Y/n’s friendliness I think. She was the first of the drivers to welcome me into F1, going out of her way to go to the Williams garage and introduce herself. So uh yeah, her friendliness” 
Warmth ran to your cheeks as the Argentinian turned to look at you. His smile was captivating, making your rosy glow even worse. 
“Wow, that was really sweet. Thank you Franco” You whispered before clearing your throat and picking the microphone up.
Your eyes landed on each of the drivers in the room, trying to think of any trait you would want from any of them. Charles’ ability to learn on the fly came to mind, but you couldn’t rave about Charles without revealing your feelings. 
“Ummmm, this may be team bias, but I’m probably going to have to pick Max.” You finally answered “His ability to perform under immense pressure is admirable. Going into last season as a rookie, I don’t think I could have asked for a better partner, or a better person to learn from.” 
The press conference wrapped up, the news stations leaving before the drivers could. You sat and talked to Franco a bit more, getting to know the newest driver better. Charles watched from the other side of the couch, trying not to make it too obvious. 
“Earth to Charles” Lando said, waving his hand in front of the Monegasque’s face
“Wha-what’s up?” Charles asked, snapping his head to look at Lando
“You were staring. Badly.” Lando pointed out 
“Not staring,” Charles defended, but the pink in his cheeks gave him away “Just…observing” 
“Sure, mate.” Lando smirked as he stood up, “You know, if you actually told her how you feel, you wouldn’t have to watch from a distance like a creep” 
“Really? I had no idea” Charles mumbled. He was relieved to see you didn’t hear what Lando had just said, as you were too engulfed in your conversation with Franco. 
“Just saying” The Brit continued “Everyone can see the chemistry between you two”
Charles adjusted his hat as he stood up next to his friend. “I just don’t want to ruin the friendship. What if it goes wrong?” 
Lando rolled his eyes. “Or it could go right. Look at how she talks to you, how she lights up around you. That’s not just a friendship, mate. She clearly likes you.”
Charles stole another glance at you, your eyes still focused on Franco. With one last sigh, he left the conference room, almost slamming the door behind him.
“What was that all about?” Franco asked you as he looked at the now shut door across the room
“I have no idea” You admitted  “Whatever it is, he’ll get over it”
The Austin sun blazed through the sky as you entered the paddock. You always loved being back home, and of course you went all out for it. You had your hair in two braided pigtails with your favorite cowboy hat resting on top, and a matching pair of boots tucked under your blue jeans. 
Most of the other drivers played into the gimmicks that Texas brought, even if they didn’t do them right. Some donned backwards cowboy hats while others tucked their jeans into their boots, both leading you to wince. Some, like Charles, did both.
“You look absolutely ridiculous” You yelled down the paddock as you spotted Charles in the middle of a media scrum
From what you could tell, they were in the middle of an unboxing of some sorts. Plastic and paper wrapping littered the area as a box was cracked open. Both Charles and the media turned to watch you walk over. 
“What are you talking about? I look fabulous” Charles said, showing off his new hat 
“Yeah,” You replied as you approached him “Except for the fact your hat’s the wrong way and your jeans are tucked in.” 
Before Charles could protest, you took the hat off of his head (from the crown of course, you weren’t an animal) and flipped it. His cheeks grew hot, both from embarrassment and how close you were to him. 
“Thank you” He whispered before untucking his jeans 
Saturday went perfectly for Red Bull. Max won the sprint, while you took second, giving the team a few more points in the Constructor’s race. 
As your day in the paddock came to a close, there was only one thing on your mind: the Texas/Georgia game. Growing up right outside the city meant your Saturdays were spent cheering on the Longhorns, and today was no different. 
You found Charles leaving the paddock at the exact same time you were, giving you the perfect opportunity to ask if he wanted to join you. While you knew he knew nothing about football, it at least gave you an excuse to spend a little extra time with him during the weekend. 
“What’s the chance you’re not doing anything tonight?” You asked as you caught up to him.
“Easily 100%. Do you have something in mind?” He replied 
“I have an extra VIP ticket to the game tonight and a spare jersey. Wanna join?” 
“You know I don’t know anything about American football” He reminded you. Charles truly wanted to go, but he didn’t want to bring your experience down because he was an idiot.  
“Pleaseeee” You begged, flashing him a fake pout “I promise you’ll have fun” 
Charles ran his hand through his hair before sighing “Okay. But this better not ruin my race tomorrow” 
You were right, Charles did have fun. Most of the time was spent on the sidelines, getting up close to the action. Charles didn’t understand a lick of what was going on, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try to. You walked him through all of the basic things he should know, like touchdowns, field goals, and extra points. 
And Charles would let you talk for days if he could. He was captivated by how your intonation changed as you explained the difference between a pass, a rush, and a kick attempt. Did any of what you said stick in his head? Absolutely not. But that didn’t matter. He was with you, and you were with him, and about 100,000 other people in the stadium.    
The rest of the weekend only got better for you. Not only were you working your way into Charles’ heart, you made your way to the top step of the podium. You knew Max was going to be aggressive going into turn one, giving you ample opportunity to sneak into the lead, where you stayed for the rest of the race. Both Charles and Max were on the podium with you, P2 and P3 respectively. 
“So would you say last night affected your race?” You asked Charles once you got to the cool down room. You quickly swapped the helmet in your hands for a towel and the Pirelli cap that were waiting for you. 
Charles chuckled “Maybe, I coulda ended up on the top step” 
You shrugged as you took your seat in the middle of the two boys. “Guess we’ll never know” 
After the formalities and shenanigans of the podium ceremony, you found yourself in the back of the media pen waiting for your turn for an open interviewer. You could feel a presence walking up to you, causing you to turn. Of all people, Franco was the one to approach. The two of you were decent friends, you being one of the first people to welcome him to the F1 grid. 
“Congrats on the win, amiga” Franco said, bringing you in for a hug 
“Thank you, thank you” You replied, “How was your first race at COTA?” 
“It was good! Definitely glad to be racing closer to home. I can’t wait for the next three in the Americas” He said 
As you and Franco made small talk, Charles was watching you like a hawk from across the pen. He listened to every laugh that came out of your mouth from something Franco said, analyzed every light hearted touch of the arm. Max was next to him, well aware of the events of the night prior. It was hard for him to not know about it, you would not stop talking about it in the paddock. 
“The way he held me? I felt like the only girl in the stadium” “He let me explain football to him, Max. No one ever lets me do that around here” “Are you sure he feels the same way about me?” Were all phrases that left your mouth earlier in the day. 
Max was positive Charles felt the same way about you that you did about him. Any of the few remaining doubts flew out the window as he listened to Charles whine. 
“Whatever he said cannot be that funny, right?” Charles asked “Like there’s no way”
Max muttered a “mhm” as he took a sip of the Red Bull in his hand. 
“I just don’t get how he does it so easily! What is it about him that makes him that likeable?” Charles asked “Is it the accent?” 
“Maybe it’s because he’s a natural flirt.” Max said “You couldn’t flirt with a brick if you tried” 
Charles’ glare left Franco and turned to the Dutchman next to him “You didn’t need to say that.” Max threw his hands up in defense.
“But what am I supposed to do if she can’t understand my flirting?” Charles asked 
“Just tell her how you feel. Ask her out on a date” Max suggested as if it was obvious. 
“That’s just asking for her to run me off the track in the next race” The Monagasque said. He ignored Lando’s advice in Monza, and he was likely to do the same to Max. 
A frustrated groan left Max’s mouth as he smacked the back side of his friend’s head. “Oh my god. Do I have to spell it out? She likes you.” 
Charles’ eyebrows furrowed as he watched you say goodbye to the Argentenian. A spot had opened up in the media pen, and Charles’ eyes followed you as you greeted the interviewer. 
“How do you know that?” He asked 
“Mate, she took you to the Texas game yesterday.  She doesn’t take just anyone. I’ve known her for years and I still haven’t gotten an invite.” He explained “In the garage, she wouldn’t shut up about how much fun she had with you last night.” 
“Really?” Charles asked. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his friend’s mouth. 
“Yes, really. Now if you don’t tell her how you feel, I’m going to do it for you.” Max threatened as he walked towards the next open interviewer.
The bar buzzed with excitement as the sun dipped below the horizon. It being your home race, you ordered both your friends on and off the grid to join in the celebrations. Most of the guys were already there, already a few rounds deep, but it wasn’t until a certain Ferrari driver walked in that you relaxed. 
Charles navigated the crowd, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of you. When he spotted you at the bar, a grin spread across his face. He made his way over, squeezing through the sea of fans and drivers. 
“There you are!” he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I've been looking for the race winner!” 
“Yeah, you’ve been avoiding me since the podium” you teased, crossing your arms 
“Right, totally” He fake agreed “Now, drinks on me?” 
A playful smile broke onto your lips as you turned to face the driver. “Actually, I believe it’s my turn. You got me in Monaco, it’s only fair” 
Charles opened his mouth to protest, but you already had gotten the attention of the bartender. He watched as you put up two fingers, and the bartender quickly got to work. As he waited, he was able to catch snippets of chatter and laughter from the rest of the people in the bar. Logan made the trip out to Austin, and was in deep conversation with Oscar and Alex, while Max and Lando were cracking jokes about their battle during the race. 
You handed Charles one of the two drinks you had received “To a dominant 1-2 finish” you toasted, clinking your glass against yours
He took a sip, the refreshing taste of the cocktail invigorating “This is really good. What is it?” He asked, looking at his drink 
“Texas Cactus Water” You answered “Tequila, lime juice, and Topo Chico”
The night wore on, and with each passing drink, the atmosphere became more lively. You were in your element, charming everyone around you. You were sure to spread your attention out to everyone who came to celebrate your win, but you always found yourself going back to him.
“Want another round?” he asked after the two of you finished your drinks.
“Yeah, sure. Put it on my tab” You ordered, knowing he would have said the same to you. 
As Charles approached the bar, Franco suddenly appeared by your side, a broad grin on his face. “Looks like you’ve got quite the fan club” he joked, nodding toward Charles, who was deep in conversation with the bartender. 
“He’s just being nice” You replied, not wanting to think too much about the flutter in your stomach at Charles’ attention “He bought my drinks in Monaco, so I’ve been returning the favor.
Franco raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe he likes you a little more than just ‘nice’,” he said, smirking.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Please, we’re just friends. He’s friendly with everyone.”
“Yeah, but he looks at you differently. Just saying,” Franco teased, nudging your arm before slipping away to join some other drivers.
When Charles returned with another round of drinks, he slid next to you, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair. “What’s got you smiling like that?” he asked, tilting his head with genuine curiosity.
“Oh, just Franco being... well, Franco,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Yeah? What did he say?” Charles pressed, his expression shifting to one of interest.
“Nothing important. Just... you know, how great it is to be back in Austin,” you deflected, not wanting to reveal the fluttering thoughts swirling in your mind.
Charles studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “You sure? Because I could always tell him to back off if he’s bothering you,” he offered, his protectiveness shining through.
You laughed lightly. “I appreciate that, but really, it’s fine.”
As the night progressed, Charles seemed to loosen up even more, the drinks giving him a playful edge. He began to get a bit flirtier, leaning closer and making exaggerated gestures as he animatedly recounted his day.
At one point, he casually brushed your arm while reaching for his drink. The simple touch sent a rush of warmth through you. You could sense the tension building between you two, an electricity that was impossible to ignore.
You tried to focus on what he was saying, but the lingering sensation from his touch was hard to shake off. Each time he leaned closer, you felt that flutter in your stomach intensify, battling with the excitement of the moment. 
“So, what’s your strategy for Mexico City?” you asked, hoping to redirect the conversation and distract yourself from the undeniable chemistry brewing between you
Charles grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Honestly? Just to keep up with you. I’ve seen how competitive you can be, and I want to push myself more.” 
You smirked, leaning close enough in to get a whiff of his cologne “Is that so? You better be prepared for a good fight” 
He laughed, the sound deep and warm, and for a moment, the world around you faded. “I’d expect nothing less” he replied. His voice was low, and you could see a flicker of something deeper in his gaze. 
Just then, Max, Lando and Logan rejoined you, breaking the spell. 
“What were you two whispering about?” Lando asked, a mischievous grin on his face 
“Just race strategies” you said quickly, shooting a glance at Charles. The Monagasque nodded, playing along, but you could see a hint of disappointment in his eyes at the interruption
“Strategies for what? How to sneak out of here without us noticing?” Logan chimed in. You shot him a glare in response. 
“Oh come on” Charles said, his eyes rolling but amusement still danced on his face “We’re just having a good time” 
Max leaned in, the smell of alcohol on his lips as he smirked “Just make sure you keep it PG, yeah? Red Bull doesn’t need any headlines about you sleeping with the enemy” 
You lightly punched your teammate, causing him to flinch. “I can handle my own headlines, thank you very much” 
The group continued to joke and banter, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Charles. He was laughing and enjoying himself, but every so often, his gaze would flicker back to you, that intensity returning.
As the night wore on, the playful atmosphere shifted to something more intimate when the music slowed down. You found yourself back at the bar with Charles, the noise of the party around you dimming to a soft buzz. Both of you had too many drinks, and it was evident by the conversation you were having. 
“Do you ever think what happens after this?” he asked, his tone serious
You looked up at him, surprised. “After what? The day? The season?”
He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “I mean, after all this. When we’re not racing anymore. What do you want?” 
Charles’ question caught you off guard. It was a vulnerability you weren’t expecting. “I-” you started, then paused, choosing your words carefully. “I guess I want to keep doing what I love. Traveling, meeting new people, but also taking the time to enjoy moments like this.” 
He nodded, absorbing your words. “Yeah, me too. I’ve realized these moments are what make the job worth it” 
You could feel the tension building again, that electric connection almost palpable. “So what do we do about it?” you asked, your heart racing
Charles looked at you, his expression softening, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the world around you disappeared again. “Maybe we should stop pretending and just see where this goes?” He suggested, finally confronting the elephant in the room
The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip “You mean…?” 
He wasn’t sure where the sudden confidence was coming from. Maybe it was the amount of drinks, or maybe it was due to your true feelings finally being on display tonight. “Yeah, I mean if we both feel it, why not explore it?” 
You felt a rush of emotions - excitement, fear, hope. “I’d like that” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. 
Before you could process what was happening, Charles leaned down, pressing his lips against yours. It took a second to kiss him back, but when you did, it was everything you had dreamed of since you first met him. 
Suddenly, a loud cheer erupted from the other side of the bar, pulling you away from each other. All of the other drivers were staring at you, each pair of eyes matched with a shit eating grin. 
“You wanna get out of here?” You asked 
“Yeah, I’d like that” Charles said, taking your hand 
======
want more? check out @coco-loco-nut's sister story below!
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dixonsbrat · 1 year ago
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𖥔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𖥔
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summary ; coriolanus needs to learn how to relax.
pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
notes ; smut. 18+ content. minors do not interact! handjob (male receiving). swearing. spoilers for tbosas !
do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.
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coriolanus’ determination to achieve the plinth prize was palpable. the coveted prize, awarded annually to the top students at the academy, granting them money and essentially a free ride through the university, was all he had been focusing on. 
countless books lay strewn across his desk, balls of crumpled up paper scattered around the room, as he stood before it. leaning against the old wooden table as his arms firmly held him steady. it was a clear indication that coriolanus had been pushing himself, striving to make every word and every thought count. 
while it was something to admire, that didn’t stop the worry that had been seeping in. it wouldn’t have been obvious to most, but to you, someone who spent a lot of time with him, you could see the dark circles that had begun to encapsulate his eyes, the way his hair was slightly disarrayed, or the fact that he hadn’t even completely changed out of his academy uniform. only his bright red pants and blue shirt still firmly clad on his body. 
he doesn’t hear you come in, doesn’t hear the thud from you closing the door, or you dropping your bag on the chair in the corner of the room. too enthralled by his textbooks and whatever scribbled nonsense is written in them, that it’s not until you wrap your arms around him from the back that he finally takes notice of your presence. 
a smile spreads across his face as he places a hand atop of yours, “what are you doing here?” he asks, surprised but pleased to see you. 
you pull him closer, embracing the feeling of holding him in your arms after barely getting to see him that day. the smell of roses filling your senses as you drink him in, “tigris let me in, said you’ve been cooped up in here all afternoon. plus, i… missed you.”
“i really missed you too, my love, but i-”
“-have so much to do. i know,” you cut him off, finishing his sentence. the same sentence you had been getting for weeks now. “which is exactly why you are going to put away the books and spend some time with your girlfriend.” 
you can physically see the gears beginning to turn in his head, trying to think of a way to let you down gently. you didn’t take it to heart, you knew how important it was for him to win the plinth prize. you were the only one outside of his family that did. 
“you already know you’re going to get that prize, coryo,” you sigh, “nobody even comes close in comparison to how hard you’ve been working for it, but you’ve gotta stop spreading yourself so thin.”
“i know, but tigris and grandma’am-”
“-would agree with me, that you need a night off,” you press a gentle kiss to the back of his shoulder, and pull him in even tighter. his head lulls back to lean against yours, blond curls falling into his face as a sigh leaves his lips. he knew you were right. “you’re always taking care of everyone else, let me take care of you for once.”
he turns to look at you now, eyes big and dewy, a mixture of surprise and understanding as he comprehends the hidden meaning behind your words. however, before he can utter a single word in response, your hands gently glides along his abdomen, gradually tracing its way down to were the band of his pants delicately meets his waist. his breath catches momentarily, captured by a flicker of anticipation, while his unwavering gaze remains fixed upon your own, unyielding and brimming with unspoken emotions. 
“you’ve been working so hard,” your voice is barely above a whisper, almost tauntingly, but he hears you all the same, “... let me help you relieve some of that tension.”
coriolanus swallows hard, falling into your hands, both physically and metaphorically, and he surrenders with a nod. it brought a smile to your face to see the hard exterior he put on crumble, become powerless, and just from your mere touch. 
his back stiffened as he leaned against you, watching as your hand roamed lower now, trailing down to where he was confined behind his pants. a shaky breath escapes him and he shifts on the balls of his feet, waiting with anticipation as you finally make contact with his now pulsing bulge. nothing separating you except for the thin material of his underwear. 
“y/n,” he sighs, your name falling from his lips so gracefully. 
you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you, pleased to see the effect you had on him. “shh, don’t think about it, you do enough of that as it is. just relax,” you push on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, as a bright flush spreads across it. 
you could feel him getting harder in your grasp, his breaths growing shorter and lower, eyes flailing closed with desperation. your hand runs circles around him, groping him where he needed you the most. it brought you pleasure just to hear the soft moans escaping him, watching him lose control to you. 
his chest rises and falls at a dramatic pace, his patience wearing thin, but that was all part of the fun. you wanted him needy, begging for you to touch him. 
“fuck, y/n,” he gasps, illiciting a stroke of excitement in you. 
deciding that he had enough of you teasing him, you waste no time delving into his underwear and releasing him from the constraints of his pants. an audible sigh of relief comes from coriolanus as you do so, his body shuddering slightly at the warmth of your hand finally making contact. 
he rests in your hand, his largely endowed member, all pretty and pink at the tip. you stroke him teasingly, rubbing the end with your finger to gather the pre-cum that had trickled out, using it to help you start stroking him. he shudders from the movement, struggling to stand still as you slowly pump your hand up and down his shaft. 
you remove your hand momentarily to collect some of your spit and when you hold him once more he shudders, struggling to stand still, and his hips begin to move involuntarily. if there was one thing coriolanus loved more than you pleasuring him, it was watching you pleasure him. 
tucking his chin against his chest, he watches as your hand works his length, pumping back and forth with ease. his hips jut forward, begging for more, until it all becomes to much and his hands lurch forward to grasp onto the table before him, just like they were when you walked in. 
“let it out for me, baby,” your voice is reassuring in his ear, sweet and soft, full of promise. 
hearing you speak to him in such a way pulls a moan from the back of his throat and he just about loses it. his body tightens at the same time, hips bucking himself into your hand faster as the coil in the pit of his stomach finally bends and breaks.
he clamps his teeth down on his lower lip to muffle his moans, trying to remain quiet so that no one else could hear what the two of you were up to. his knuckles turn white as he gently bangs his fist down on the desk, and it’s only seconds before your hand is warm with his cum. 
“fuck me,” he whisper-shouts, eyes clenching shut as his hips jut and dick twitches in your hand. 
“that’s my boy,” the comment pulls a small chuckle from coryo as you remove your hand, his white secretion now coating it, “though, it does seem like an awful waste. i guess it’s a good thing i’m not done with you yet.”
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kayzean · 10 months ago
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RIGHT SO UHM. Sorry my thoughts are really scattered right now but. Ok so Shadow was a LOT more reserved in those last two episodes. Which thinking about it makes a LOT of sense going off of how he usually is in other medias. I think I just forgot that that's how he usually is when he's around people because Prime really spoiled us with a much more open and emotive Shadow. and then it fucking HIT ME. LIKE. A. TRAIN. He was more open and emotive when Sonic was the only one there. He openly showed his frustration, his feelings, his competitiveness etc. He just... He was so much more open. and it was ONLY around Sonic. And that really makes that scene just after Sonic had the prism energy removed. His mask fell for just a second! You could see how hard he was trying to hold onto his stoicness. And even after that! He was trying so hard not to show his real emotions. Until all the plans failed to get Sonic back to green hill. The way first braced Sonic up and then when away from the Roses' he switched to carrying Sonic. "I didn't know you were such a hugger." I would have dropped him right there lmfao. And his stoic demeanour crumbling the closer they got. The desperation in that "hang on Sonic!" THE THREE SONICBOOMS. Just. UUUUUUUUUUUHGGGGG. This is actually making me fucking insane. Idk man just something about Shadow only being comfortable to be open around Sonic does things to me guys. what the fuck
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holybibly · 11 months ago
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IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part II
Part I If you haven't read it
Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au
Word Count: 9.4k
Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.
WARNING: only!18+ unprotected sex, Dom!San, Dom!Wooyoung, Sub!Reader, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, manhandling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, overstimulation and more.
Tag list: @staytiny816 @woosmaid @jiminssluttyminx @liknws @pearltinyy @haebaragisworld @bts-iris @bleachpolaroid @wisejudgedragonhairdo @ginger-coffee-addict @pricessthings @rockstarsanie @lilmackiee @minaizum1 @shotahime @vixensss @meljoongiee @ivsjake4evr @love-me-a-little @seonghwaddict @onmykneesforateez @meeitany
A/N: Okay, we're here. I couldn't be more excited. Really, they've got a lot going on and I hope you're all ready because it's gonna be intense, hot and messy. Seriously, I really appreciate everyone's feedback and consideration for this series. It's become one of the most popular things I've written, but it put some pressure on me, because I'm worrying about whether the second part would please you. Well, I think we'll see.
Enjoy the chapter, even though it's practically nothing but smut.
The third and final part! takes us back to where it all began, but not without an emotional roller coaster ride. By the way, I wanted to point out that T/N doesn't remember what she promised them a year ago. So don't be surprised by the plot changes in this issue. In the finale, we're sure to get a hot threesome.
I'm still learning how to write smut, so please be gentle with me.
Besides, I can't help but talk about the results of the poll. The majority vote was for Alpha/Beta/Omega!au, and honestly, it's one of the ideas I'm most excited about, and I was hoping it would be the winner. I look forward to your comments. In general, feel free to write me about anything.
dividers by @cafekitsune
Much love, everyone.
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Now. The morning after graduation.
It's a late, lazy morning when you wake from a deep and well-earned sleep. You blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the bright golden light flooding the room, which refracted through your bedroom's stained glass. It was beautiful and annoying at the same time, just as Hongjoong himself, who had inspired you to do this.
You should have shaded the windows last night before you went to sleep, but that was the last thing you thought of as lying in bed between the restless, wet San's and Wooyoung's bodies. You were more preoccupied with the touch of their rough hands on your heated body, the warmth of their breath on tender skin, and the sounds of their hoarse moaning right by your ear.
They were an absolute mess, slowly driving you crazy. Emotions raged in your stomach, making you feel guilty, embarrassed and… lustful. You practically dozed off at dawn, when the boys managed to calm down a bit and fall into a deep sleep.
The apartment is incredibly quiet; you can't hear a single sound, and only the soft sniffle on your neck, with the feeling of warm breath dancing across your bare skin, breaks this peaceful silence.
Wooyoung is still fast asleep, clutching you in his arms like a favorite teddy bear, his leg wrapped possessively around your thigh as it always has been. Even when he was asleep, he couldn't bring himself to let you go for a second.
You ran the palm of your hand over the sheet and felt nothing but the cold under your fingers. Sannie has been awake for a while now, and for a moment you're annoyed by this fact. You wish that he was still in bed with you, soft and gentle as he always was. So that the three of you could spend this special morning together. The graduation robes are scattered all over the room in a mess of things, and all you want to do is push them further and further into the wardrobe and forget about them forever. The dog days are finally over. You are now official free.
Sensual, full lips touch the sensitive spot on your neck, and the sensation sends shivers down your spine. The throat is suddenly dry, sweat begins to form on your neck from the abruptly increase in desire, and you close your eyes tightly, aware of every touch and breath coming from Wooyoung more clearly than before. It's as if your whole body is completely focused on him, reacting to every fleeting movement and every sound with even more eager devotion.
You're still too receptive from last night, and you need more space to try and keep all those dirty, depraved thoughts from taking over and you. You studiously ignore the slight shiver of excitement that is happily tickling your breasts and causing the muscles in your lower abdomen to ripple in a pleasant way. You bite your lip to keep yourself from groaning in frustration as the images and sensations of the night flash in front of your eyes. You need to stop right now. It's too bad, but it's too sweet.
You start to wriggle, trying to get away from Wooyoung, who is still sleeping, but he just pulls you closer to his chest, as if he wants to dissolve into your body completely, and you melt.
Wooyoung has always been so insatiable and greedy for any kind of physical contact that you can offer him, like an adorable little puppy, that you can just wag your finger at him and he'll come running to you. He always had "too much space between you"; it was important to him to hold you constantly, to touch soft skin with his fingertips, to leave butterfly kisses in every possible place, to knead your thighs and squeeze waist possessively, to pull you so close that there wasn't a centimetre between you. You were his darling, soft and sweet girl in all the right places, and he just couldn't help himself.
San used to tell him that he was being a bit greedy and that he needed to learn how to share you with others. After all, sharing meant caring, and you were also his chagi.
Yes, you wanted to be taken care of, and that frightened you to the depths of your most forbidden fantasies. You wanted to be nervous about them; you wanted them to use you as they pleased, to make you take everything they had to offer, even if it destroyed you completely.
Your desire for them was more than you should have as friends. And that feeling had only grown stronger over the past year.
But despite Wooyoung's obsession and possessiveness, his touch always soothed you. He gave you the comfort you needed whenever you felt the need. And in the end, his hands would always nudge you in the direction of San, so that he could have his own moment of sharing with you. You were their own personal cuddly toy, and that was fine with you, because there was no place in the world where you could feel more protected and cuddly than in their arms.
But at the moment, you wanted nothing more than to get away from his touch and calm down your excitement. You'd been so needy since last night, and Wooyoung had only added to your frustration.
He's shirtless, his skin warm and smooth, and you can be sure it's golden like caramel where the sun has licked it. Delicious. You can almost taste him on the tip of your tongue, and suddenly you're tempted to sink your teeth into him for a taste, but you just bite down harder on your lower lip and stifle a moan.
You need to stop being so intensely... aware of him.
Maybe you were still drunk from the last night; after all, you couldn't remember exactly how many shots of tequila you'd consumed before dragging Yunho into the ladies' room to start kissing passionately. And you found yourself in an even more suggestive position with Seonghwa after another round of colourful, unnamed cocktails.
From then on, every innocent act made you feel lustful and hungry for intimacy.
Was it karma or something? You weren't sure, but you were more inclined to think that it was the lack of passionate sex you hadn't been having for a year now. You hadn't been able to find anyone suitable for a long-term relationship after you'd broken up with Suho, and boys-toys hadn't given you any pleasure.
You wanted more than ten minutes of gasping under the covers with awkward fingers poking into the pussy. They were cum faster than you were able to get yourself aroused. Pathetic.
You needed to satisfy that hunger that was eating you from the inside out, that oppressive feeling of emptiness inside you that could only be filled by a big dick that you could choke on for the rest of your life. A thick and long one, with visibly bulging veins, that could really hit all the sensitive places inside you, causing you to have orgasm after orgasm. And having not one but two perfectly matched options handy hasn't made things any easier.
If you offered to suck them off, Wooyoung's dick would be in your mouth in no time. He was always a fireball, passionate, and impatient, and San…San liked to play with his food before getting down to business. You were in awe of how perfect their dynamic was with such different personalities.
You wanted to see how attractive they would be when a warm throat closed around their cocks, when their beautiful faces were contorted with intense pleasure, and when you heard them moan out your name.
Damn it.
It's moments like these that make you realize that moving in with Wooyoung and San was the best and worst decision you ever made. Unless you count buying a pair of designer jeans that make your butt a magnet for people's hands.
The time went by far too quickly for your liking. It was easy to get lost in the succession of school days, week after week, punctuated by movie nights, spontaneous outings and a seemingly endless stream of student parties. Everything in your life changes. From the big renovation of your apartment, which was Hongjoong's job - he was still over the loss of his favourite vintage sofa - to the move in of San and Wooyoung. Things started to move at an even faster pace the day the boys dragged their suitcases into the dark space of your ultra-modern living room, to a general "You should have done this a long time ago".
It was a spontaneous and hasty decision. But what could have gone wrong? It's always been the three of you, and you had no idea that sharing space would have any effect on your relationship. God, how wrong you were. They played cat and mouse with you, testing your mettle and your patience. The memory of that moment is still so vivid in your mind.
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"Come on, chagi, try it; it's quite tasty." San brought a spoonful of the dark green liquid, which Wooyoung proudly called the best hangover soup in the world, to your lips.
Jung Wooyoung and his ego, of course.
"Go ahead, baby; be good and open your mouth. It'll make you feel good, I  promise." That last sentence was full of innuendo, and it didn't take a genius to see it. In fact, everything that came out of Wooyoung's mouth was absolute filth.
He was practically purring in your ear, touching your delicate skin with every word, and you swear you could feel the touch of his tongue on your earlobe. Oh, fuck. His hands slid down your shoulders, deftly kneading the muscles that had gone stiff, his thumbs sliding up the vertebrae of your neck, and he dug a little bit into the hair at the back of your neck. In that moment, you were ready to do anything for him, whatever he asked.
"That's my Chagia, so docile and sweet." San would continue to feed you slowly with a spoon, smiling sweetly at you as if it were the most pleasant thing in the world to do. From time to time, he would wipe away the drops of liquid that ran down your lips with his thumb, as if in a romantic drama. You were perfectly capable of doing it yourself. But San's meaningful raised eyebrow made it clear that it was better to let him take care of you without resistance. San's language of love had always been to serve, and he took every opportunity to remind you of that.
The silence around you was nice and cozy—you'd even say relaxing—especially since you could still feel the humming bass of last night's music in your head. And all in all, you weren't feeling your best. Hell, that shit you drank last night was strong. This went on for a few more minutes until the plate in front of you was empty and Woo's face was pressed against your cheek in a cute puppy way. 
"Woo, and I wanted to talk to you about something, Y/N," San began, his voice suddenly becoming so sweet. He took your hand gently, his thumb stroking your knuckles lazily. He obviously wanted something from you.
"Sure, I'm all ears."
"We'd like to move in with you, peach, what do you think?" Wooyoung was pecking at your cheek, acting like a real sweetheart, but you knew every one of his tactics to get what he wanted.
"You're not going to get it if Woo keeps licking my cheek."
"But, Peach…" He whined, pursing his puffy lips in a resentful manner. Okay, he was cute as hell, but you were never going to tell him that.
"Chagi." You turned your attention back to San, who looked like he was confessing his love to you: Are this hearts in his eyes? Or are you still drunk?
"Agreed, we are practically living here anyway; I even have my own toothbrush in the bathroom. It's just a formality." He was awfully proud of it, squaring his shoulders and imagining himself under your gaze.
"We want to take care of you, baby."
And this is where you should have told them to fuck off and forget the way to your apartment, change the locks, and give San his toothbrush back. But whether it was the soft and somehow loving look of San's cat eyes paired with deep, sweet dimples or Wooyoung's gentle hands that started to knead your shoulders again in a languidly seductive way, you nodded affirmatively.
They were right; you were all practically living together. The amount of their stuff in your flat was unreal—the T-shirts you slept in, the perfume bottles left everywhere, study notes, games, pajamas and scarves, Wooyoung's luxurious leather jackets, and San's books—you could start a collection, but their stuff was just as much yours. It was also the constant cause of your and Suho's fights; he was always jealous of you and them, completely unaware of the dynamic between the three of you. They'd been glued to your thigh for years, and the fact that you had a boyfriend wouldn't change that. Narrow-minded prick.
"I think you're right. Let's give it a go."
"My little darling." San gave a dazzling smile, showing off his dimples even more, and pressed your hand to his lips. God, Choi San was a real menace. It was hard to believe that this pretty cat in front of you was none other than the one who was caught many times having rough sex in the middle of the university library. Once, he was even caught in a threesome, but you didn't want to point the finger at Wooyoung for putting him up to it.
"Yeah, that's our girl." Wooyoung pressed his lips to your cheek once more, salivating as much as he could along the way.
"Jung Wooyoung!" You squealed, wiping the drool from your cheek in disgust, but Woo was already happily scurrying into the living room, laughing loudly.
"We'll look after you, chagi."
That was San's last sentence before he ran his tongue over your hand, licked his fingers like a cat, and ran after Woo with an evil giggle.
"Choi San, come back at once!"
You are going to have so much fun here. Too much fun for your own good.
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"Mmm… Peach, you are already awake." The soft touch of plump lips on your shoulder means that Wooyoung has woken up and wants to have your full attention.
"It has been some time. But I don't want to go anywhere. How are you feeling? Last night, when we came home, you and San were really drunk.
Wooyoung hugs you even tighter, nestling his face between your shoulder blades and taking a deep breath of your scent. Your skin is tickled by the tips of his long hair. A light touch on your lower back sends a jolt up your spine, making you arch slightly in his arms. Wooyoung is always like this; his defiant and needy attitude shouldn't be anything unusual for you, so you should stop reacting to him like this.
"Thank you for looking after us, peach. You're always so nice. Sannie and I don't deserve you." He kisses your neck. This time the touch lingers a little longer, and a feeling of excitement rises in your chest. "We haven't caused you any trouble, have we, little girl?" He purrs as he rubs his nose up against your shoulder. You couldn't help but notice how San's habits have become Wooyoung's habits, and vice versa. Now you have to put up with all that twin feline energy.
You turn to face him, and even after a night of sleeping with his hair tousled and without his usual cheeky grin, Wooyoung still looks pretty damn good. He's comfortable, a little sleepy, but no less seductive than he ever was. Woo has always had this sensual aura about him. Underneath the overt sexuality and the bitchy attitude, there was something else—something dark and seductive. You want to kiss him right now, so badly. Your hand runs through his silky hair, letting it fall in soft waves on either side of his face. Dark strands that are long enough to be pulled through easily. The world's handsomest boy.
It's all too easy to fall in love with him.
He kisses your palm playfully and pokes his nose into it like a cat hungry for affection, and you don't mind his purring with pleasure.
You wonder what he's going to sound like when he cums, God, you need to help yourself.
"Let me think." You run your fingers through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. It's a deceptively gentle gesture before you pull hard on the roots of his hair, causing him to cry out in surprise.
"Oh, babe, why?" He purses his lips in offense, hoping you'll fall for his cute look. But you've known Wooyoung for years, and judging by the mischievous gleam in his eyes, he knew exactly what he was getting at.
"Firstly, you robbed me of my chance for great sex with your whining and dragging me home. Secondly, you behaved horribly when I tried to persuade you to take a shower and you kept me awake until the morning by clinging to me and fidgeting on the bed. Today I demand the royal treatment because you really messed up last night. This was not part of my plan for the prom at all."
Woo smiles back wickedly, practically baring his teeth in a wolfish grin.
"Peaches, are you really such a needy girl? Well, what are we going to do about it? San and I will have to do our best to make it up to you." He suddenly turns you over so that you are lying on your back, sandwiched between the mattress and his lithe body. Wooyoung is hovering over you, his hair falling all over your face, and you can't help but notice how sexy he looks in this position, which is annoying the hell out of you. He doesn't even have to try very hard to send you over the edge.
Strong hands are resting on the sides of your head, letting you enjoy the sight of the seductively bulging veins that run down his forearms. Fuck, you've always had a weakness for his hands, and who wouldn't when they look like this? Woo leans his head towards you until your noses touch, like a predator cornering his prey.
"Baby, I have my doubts that you'll be satisfied with anyone, so don't sulk. And you know Sannie and I will have to approve of someone running their fingers down your knickers." He smiles broadly at you, clearly enjoying your annoyance when you roll your eyes at him.
"Jung Wooyoung, stop it!" Your hand leaves an angry red mark on the bare skin of his chest, and he grunts. It will take all the patience in the world not to beat him to death or kiss him. "I swear I'll wash your mouth out with soap someday." Or maybe you'll lick him from the inside out. "And stop sticking your pretty little nose where you shouldn't. You don't have to worry about who I'm gonna fuck."
"So what if it bothers me? What are you going to do with it, Peach?" He bites his lips in anticipation and raises an eyebrow in expectation, as if he were challenging you to go on.
The way that smug look is on his face makes you feel a little pissed off. You get a little cocky and decide to use the same tactic he did. Wrapping your hands around his face, you're pulling him even closer, resting him on your forearms and your lips nearly touch. He has siren eyes that are deep and mesmerising, and the intensity of his gaze causes your cheeks to flush and you to bite down on your lower lip. The gleam in his fox eyes is proof that he is enjoying every second of your little game.
"Seonghwa kisses you like he's fucking your mouth with his tongue, it's fucking heaven and you can do whatever you want with that fact, baby. I would have ridden him like a stallion in front of everyone last night if it wasn't for you and San's drunken arses". You push him off of you, and Wooyoung rolls over to the other side of the bed as you sit up.
There's something in the air, and you feel you've said something wrong, judging by the way Wooyoung's eyes are flashing with an emotion you can't quite describe. It's a weird mix between anger, envy, desire and something else. But whatever it is, it is making your pussy clench in anticipation of it.
Damn, when did you start thinking with what's between your legs instead of your brain?
He stares at you intently, as if he's trying to decide whether he's going to scold you or fuck you senseless. As lust flashes through his languid onyx eyes like a shooting star, fast but unmistakable, and his pink tongue flicks out to wet his swollen lips, Wooyoung knows exactly what he's going to do to you.
You reach out to stroke his shoulder, and just as you expected, his skin is the most delicious shade of caramel. You can't help but want to run your tongue all over it.
Oh, shit. Now would be a good time to remind yourself: He's your best friend.
"Where`s San?" He asks you.
The expression on his face is, for the most part, neutral, with just a slight hint of lust and anticipation. He slowly licks his delicious lips and looks at you with bedroom eyes. You feel the warm moisture building up between your thighs. If he keeps looking at you like that, you're going to make a puddle of lust where you're sitting right now. You squeeze your thighs tighter to keep the liquid from dripping shamefully onto the bed, praying to all the gods that Wooyoung won't notice.
"I don't know. He wasn't in the bed when I woke up."
"Good."
What the hell is 'GOOD'? You need to collect your thoughts and leave this stuffy room, but the way Wooyoung's eyes slide over your body before, and slowly sucking his lower lip tells you there's nowhere to run. 
"Come to me, sweetheart; I want you in my arms." He is stroking himself on his thigh, the silk fabric of his pajamas leaving no room for imagination as it outlines the taut muscles of his gorgeous thighs. His legs are spread a little wider to draw your attention to where he wants you now, and you can clearly see the imprint of his thick dick through the fabric. Damn. It's completely hard, and you can't help but notice how big it is.
His actions send signals straight to the nerves that control your cunt. The wet heat is running between your legs and your arousal is increasing. A palpable shiver runs through all body as you squirm and writhe under the intensity of his gaze.
The rational part of you is literally beating in a hysterical frenzy. It's your hope that your stupid brain will realise the full implications of what's happening, and that you'll be able to put a stop to it. Even if the boundaries of your friendship were highly questionable, you were friends. While the evil voice in the back of your head was cheering you on: "C'mon, what's the bad that can happen?"
He was inviting you, and who were you to refuse? Not that you wanted to.
They'd go crazy if San and Wooyoung knew what thoughts and fantasies lived in your head every day. Huh. They had no idea their sweet chagia had such a dark and dirty mind. You take a deep breath.
Screw it.
You slowly crawl across the bed towards him. He watches you with a squinting, predatory look on his face until one of your legs has been thrown across his body and you're almost sitting on top of him. Almost, as your thighs struggle to keep you in that rigid position, but apparently Woo wasn't in the mood, and his broad palms force your hips down so you're sitting all the way in his lap. Before you realise what you're doing, you're pinned against his crotch, his hard cock touching your aching clit as you move against him, demanding physical stimulation. The contact was so good that it sent a shiver down your spine, and you almost moaned at the tiny moment of pleasure it gave you. Damn, it was massive—so thick you started salivating in your mouth. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You're up to your neck in shit. 
"There you are, starlight, in my hands." His voice, once so high and soft, was now hoarse and deep. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you even closer to him, so that there was hardly any space between the two of you. "Baby girl, are you still upset about Seonghwa?" It's a nickname he rarely uses, and it sends an electric shock through your lower abdomen, triggering a feeling you're not sure you can control right now. He leans in close to you and presses his wet lips against the side of your ear. "Tell me what I can do to stop you being angry with me."
"Kiss me, make me feel good." The evil little voice in the back of your head chimes in with glee. "Blow my brains out until my head feels empty and light." It says.
A whole new sensation takes over. Your body starts to heat up in anticipation of what is to come. Then the room will seem to shrink and the air will fill with a tension and a desire.
"I don't know. You've really pissed me off." You look up at him through your impossibly thick lashes, your lips in a fake pout. You weren't the innocent one; you could have played just as badly as they did. "You'll have to try harder, pretty boy." You let your finger nails run down the length of his neck. Wooyoung tilts his head back to reveal a chin line that could have been carved from the finest marble.
As his hands lazily caress your thighs, lifting your T-shirt higher and higher, your skin burns under his palms. Damn, he's scalding you.
The wetness between your legs is becoming more and more intense as the conversation goes on and on. Your juices seep through the thin lace of your panties, dripping from your pussy, leaving little dark streaks on the silk of his trousers where they touch your thighs. The air between you crackles with tension and desire; you feel yourself sweating; you're so hot and needy; and Wooyoung is no help at all.
His aura is one of dominance, and you swallow in anticipation. A storm is about to break and you don't want to be safe.
"I'll do whatever you want me to do for you, Y/N."
You're done for.
"Then kiss me, stupid boy, make me feel good."
He growls back at you, embracing you on the back of the head and practically forcing your faces together. The palm of his hand clenches possessively on the back of your neck with palpable pain, and the sound that comes out of you is something between a sob and a moan. With the sudden movement, you feel yourself pressing even harder against his dick, and it sends a pleasurable pulse through your clit.
Wooyoung presses his forehead against yours and your lips are just a breath away from each other.
You stare back at him without blinking. His eyes are half closed as he watches you in silence, like a tiger stalking its prey, ready to pounce with its jaws clenched. It is in a low, dangerously calm tone that he speaks. "Are you sure this is what you want to do, baby girl? I'm biting." It's mixed with your sighing and seductive lips, and you can barely make out the words.
"P-please…"
His moan is loud, guttural, and mildly painful, and then…
O MY GOD.
Those soft lips are pressed hard against yours in an urgent, hungry kiss. His mouth is insistent and demanding, his thumb digging into the skin of your neck, turning the touch into a rough grip, and his tongue gliding along the bottom of your lip. Slowly, as he pulls your lips apart, he moves in quickly, and you shudder at the sensual sensation as he runs his tongue over the roof of your mouth and licks your teeth. It should have been dirty and rough, but instead you find yourself moaning with wanton need.
"Wooyoung..." The moan of his name was so desperate, so needy, so full of lust and desire.
"Goddamn, I love it when you say my name."
He kisses you with renewed ferocity, biting your lips almost to the point of bleeding. Wooyoung is too passionate; he licks your mouth with his tongue, and literally shoves it down your throat. He kisses you like he's dying of thirst and you're the only way to make him drink. Spittle runs down your chin, it's wet and dirty, but you can't stop, you don't want to stop. Wooyoung's tongue is practically fucking you in the mouth.
And God, you want more. It feels unreal, too extreme to be a reasonable response to a kiss, the heat between your legs, your clit throbbing with need, your nerves on fire.
Wooyoung lets go of you for a moment and you stare at him with your eyes wide open. Your heart is pounding wildly and your breathing is so ragged that you're practically choking to death. Licking away any remnants of the kiss you shared, his wet pink tongue pokes out from between his plump lips.
His hand slides down your face, cupping your chin and tilting your head slightly so that your eyes meet his, his gaze clouded with lust as if his fingers were digging deep inside you. You can't say a word as a wicked smile spreads across his sharp, enchanting face.
Now you have a better understanding of all those damsels who are ready to spread their legs at the flick of his fingers.
"Tell me you want more, baby. I have a feeling this apology isn't enough. I need to do more than that. I'm so desperate for forgiveness.
"Don't I need to be forgiven too, Woo? You shouldn't be so greedy. That voice, oh shit.
You turn sharply around and find yourself staring into San's beautiful cat eyes. He's so damn good-looking you swallow a groan. It must be illegal for someone to look this good in normal jeans and a plain black shirt. But San had a body worth dying over.
A real girl's dinner.
What the hell are you going to do now? How long had he stayed there?
"San-ah… how…" You find yourself stuttering. Your mouth dries up and you can't utter a word, but even if you could, your brain can't form coherent thoughts. You can't bring yourself to look away from him, and something deep inside you knows that he will punish you if you try.
"What is it, Gongjunim? Did the cat eat your tongue?" He raises an eyebrow at you, a shit-eating grin playing at the corners of his lips. As if in mockery, his soft, patronising tone of voice slides over your skin. San combines a sensual, gentle nature with a seductive one that makes you feel he's looking for a weakness before pouncing. His fucking duality. One moment he's a little sweetheart, the next he's a lecherous demon who wants to sink his teeth into your throat and devour you. "Come on, Chagia, I promise I won't disappoint you; I'm very good at excuses."
Responding to his sultry purr, your pussy clenches shamefacedly.
The excitement of it all makes your brain feel like mush and sets your skin on fire.
You start squirming in Wooyoung's arms, and now that San's here, you belatedly realise what you've gotten yourself into. Is it time for a change of scenery or something? No, you want to stay. Desperately.
You need them to blow your brains out, to make you dumb and submissive and a pretty little toy for them to play with. Sometimes you have to stop before you cross the line, but where is the line when you're literally sitting on your best friend's hard cock?
Hell, you don't know what you're supposed to do - run or beg - but you clearly know what they want to do to you, judging by Wooyoung's dick twitching between your thighs and San slowly licking his lips as he looks at your bare ass peeking out from under your shirt. His shirt.
There must be some kind of telepathic connection between Wooyoung and San. After a few seconds of intense eye contact, San pulls his T-shirt over his head, tosses it aside and slowly walks over to you. The grin on his face seems to have changed; it has become even darker than before. Hungrier.
And you don't think this is a good time to start drooling. But damn it, you want to lick him from head to toe.
Between the three of you, there's a chaos of emotion and desire. It's mixed with adrenaline and a distant fear of what's going to happen. There has to be an end to this game of predator and prey, and why not do it now? Sighing, you finally give in.
In the morning, you'll consider the consequences.
"Maybe you should kiss me too, San-ah, and I'll start thinking about forgiving.
Hot lips instantly press an open, wet kiss to your shoulder. The bed buckles under the weight of another man's body. San's strong arms are wrapped around your waist and his fingers clench your t-shirt into a fist. He's hot, warm and hard, and you can feel the hardness of his dick through your trousers as he presses down hard against you. His mouth is sucking, biting and licking your skin as if his life depended on it. Sharing an understanding look with Wooyoung, San slides his lips higher up your body.
"Sannie…" Before planting a hot kiss on your neck, you whimper as his teeth sink into your sensitive flesh.
The moan that comes from the back of your throat is so deep that for a moment you wonder if it's coming from you at all.
Pure pleasure shoots through you as you feel Woo's long tongue on the other side of your neck. He lets out the sexiest moan deep in his throat, as if he's having the time of his life, savouring every second of the way his lips explore the nape of your neck. You're distracted. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he pulls the skin between his lips, leaving a purple hickey on the back of your neck.
"Oh, my God, boys."
"That's my darling, Chagia." His voice is sultry and seductive, and you can clearly hear the saturi again, as it tends to do at times when San is in a highly aroused state.
"You're so beautiful, my peach." Wooyoung whispers to you, and you just melt away completely.
You whimper as Woo begins to run his hands up and down your thighs and arse, squeezing and pulling. He mooed softly as you made little circular movements with your hips and rubbed his cock against you. Woo punishes you by slapping your bottom if you cuddle too hard. You'll need to be obedient as they play with you.
The sound fills the room along with the collective moaning of Wooyoung's and San's.
"What a dirty little girl you are. I think you need to be taught how to obey." Woo spanks you a few more times and you wiggle your hips in an impatient way.
It feels so good.
San pulls your t-shirt up to your breasts while all your attention is focused on Wooyoung. Your little thong is completely transparent and does nothing to hide your sex or the excitement building within you. They are practically digging into your needy pussy because of the position you are now in. A chorus of gasps and moans can be heard from your best friends as their eyes focus on that big, wet spot. San's greedy hands press you even closer to his body, so that you can feel his full erection on top of your plump, bare bum.
"You're so fucking wet." Wooyoung hisses. "Like a bitch leaking just thinking about our cocks in your tight little cunt. We'll destroy you, Peach."
Before you realise what's happening, Woo's hands slide down your back, your nipples tensing in the cool open air. The soft fabric of your t-shirt falls to the floor, and suddenly, hot wetness envelops your left nipple and he sucks hard on it, the pressure causing pain that turns to pleasure as his tongue touches the hard bud. Your head immediately falls back onto San's shoulder as you open the soft space of your throat to his insatiable mouth. You let out a long groan, and your hand rests on Wooyoung's head, tugging lightly at the soft lengths of his hair.
You feel like you could explode at any moment, even though they haven't done anything to you yet. You're burning, almost feverish, as the growing fire between your thighs reaches unbearable levels. You can't breathe; your skin is hypersensitive. Your head tilts to the side, and you whimper San's name in the most pathetic intonation possible. His hand slides lower and lower, past your waist and your stomach, to the place where you most want to feel him. It hasn't even come close to touching your pussy yet, but the thought of it is enough to make you squirm with excitement.
His hands move down low enough to touch the skin of your naked legs and up slowly, frantically, until he reaches where you are starting to get aroused. The palm of his hand encircles your pussy in a possessive way, the small mound of flesh lying so perfectly in the palm of his hand. You tremble a little at this, and try to spread your legs wider so that his fingers can rub against the moist slit, so that he can dive in between the warm folds until your pussy spreads out beautifully for him, so that he can rub your clit with ease.
"Mmm… what a wet little thing. I bet my Gongjunim has the most beautiful pussy I have ever seen in my life. Fleshy, shiny, and pink - just the way I like it. He gasps for breath. He puts his hands on your hips and rubs his hard cock against the curve of your ass a couple of times. "Do you feel that, Chagia? No one can make me as hard as you can." On your skin, his breath feels like fire. Hoping for a little more friction, you arch your backside. The gesture reveals a hiss from his side.
San's fingers, one tempting back and forth with a feathery touch, spread the excitement building in your slit beneath the thin material. Your pussy clenches around nothing at all in the most uncomfortable way, and you know that he can feel it.
"Do you like this chagi? Wooyoung's mouth on your full, pretty tits? My fingers on your sweet little snatch?" San's tone is almost mocking. His tongue is licking his lips; his fingers continue to stroke your clothed pussy in a leisurely manner; and he watches intently as Wooyoung literally chokes on your breasts. "We are gonna fuck you until you squeal like the slutty little bitch you are." He growls into your ear, and the sound of it makes you pull on Woo's hair with all your might.
And you always had the impression that Wooyoung's mouth was dirty.
A soft moan slips out of the brunette's swollen lips, which are now wrapped so tightly around your nipple that you're sure they're going to leave a mark on it. As he pulls back with an audible pop, you let out a small sound as you look at his ecstatic face. His eyes are half closed, his eyelids flutter slightly and a beautiful flush of colour has appeared on his cheeks. His plump lips are glistening with the saliva and the service he is giving to your tits.
"Are you feeling good, peach?" He chuckles weakly as he watches you fall apart in San's skilled hands, leaving you as beautiful as ever in his eyes. Woo gives your nipple a hard pinch, only to then let his tongue run over it. The sudden change in sensation causes your head to begin to spin, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure.
"Please… I need… more… Youngiee." You stammer out the words, your voice shaking and your body trembling.
"You look so pretty when you beg. But do you want to know something, сhagi? You'll look even more beautiful with your cunt stretched around my dick. I will ravage your tiny pussy, Gongjunim. I'm going to make you mine." San finally kisses you; though it's hard to call it a kiss, he dives into your lips like a hungry man, sucking them so deeply and passionately, with an insistence that you don't even think you'll ever understand.
His tongue is merciless as he explores every millimeter of the inside of your mouth. This kiss is heavenly, and with every second that passes, you find yourself wanting more, wanting him to spoil you in every way that he can. To have his way with you until you have no more patience. And it is these thoughts that make you wriggle in Wooyoung's arms. You try to rub your thighs together, hoping to relieve the unbearable heat inside you.
"The taste is so damn good."
You can feel Woo squeezing your breasts almost in sync, his warm tongue sliding over the plump flesh once more, licking at the aroused nipples, and his teeth scratching the sensitive skin with the lightest of touches. You savour the lightning bolts of pleasure that the two of them cause to bounce around your body. It's almost painful, but you know you're loving this.
Half gasping, half squealing at the sheer, blunt pressure of San's nimble, kneading fingers finding their way to your labia through the mesh of the thong. Your lower abdomen clenches in a reflexive spasm, and your hands are sticky with sweat as you grasp the wrist of his hand.
"Oh, your pussy is so sensitive, isn't it, Chagia?" San cooed with feigned tenderness, and with a strange sadism, he pressed his middle finger against your cunt, sliding it right over the spot where your clit was, causing your hips to shake. The lubrication of your arousal made it much more effective for him to stimulate you, and he would literally bring you to orgasm with minimal effort. He purred softly as you responded, like a big cat purring, and just when you thought he couldn't fuck with your sanity even more, he turned his head and spat on your lips, a glob of saliva dribbling into your open mouth and you choked out a moan.
It's so rough and dirty, but your body responds the best it can, arching into his arms and pressing your breasts even harder against Wooyoung's face.
The brunette moans in response and lifts his foxy eyes to you. You can see the corner of his lips curl into a smirk before he bites down hard on your nipple. Fuck, your life will never be the same. And they haven't even got around to fucking you properly yet. It's like heaven and hell at the same time.
"I want to hear you whimper, Gongjunim." San's hand grips the back of your neck very tightly, causing you to gasp for breath from the sudden lack of air. Your eyes begin to roll up at the possessive touch of his hand on your throat, and you begin to jerk your hips, your clit pressing against Wooyoung's cock, and he lets out a long, hard moan.
"Please, Sannie." You're breathing out.
"Look at her, San, our girl, slobbering like a brainless slut." Wooyoung wipes the viscous saliva from your parted lips, then pushes his fingers into your mouth with a sharp, deep thrust. For a second you choke and begin to gurgle around the long phalanges.
He hadn't removed the rings yesterday and now the heavy metal makes your tongue feel cold. "Think of the way my dick is fucking your little throat, starlight. Suck it hard." You wheeze and gurgle, your saliva bubbling at the corners of your lips, but you have done exactly as you have been told.
It was rough, it was horrible and it was so wet that it was almost disgusting to watch. But Woo enjoyed it; he literally raped your mouth with his fingers in a sort of sadistic sense. A few thick strands of saliva would stick to your swollen lips as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth.
"Look at you. Taking my fingers in your mouth like that. Such a good girl."
This whole game has been nothing more than a distraction from the main action. There's a short circuit in your body as a sharp sensation pierces every nerve in your body. San suddenly slaps you hard on your wet pussy, the contact sending sparks of pain and pleasure flying across your skin, and you let out a squeal.
"Oh my God. Oh, my God. I'm going to… I'm going to…" You go over the edge as you feel your juices pouring down your legs, your vaginal muscles contracting, forcing more fluid to pour out of you, the combination of their names coming weakly from your lips as your orgasm washes over your weakened limbs.
"Fuck, Peach is so hot… You're squirting." You belatedly realise that Wooyoung is also cumming as he throws his head back in pleasure, his eyes rolling up and his mouth opening in a long, whimpering moan.
You can hardly catch your breath when you feel San rest his chin on your shoulder, his grip tightening around you, whispering in your ear.
"One more gongjunim; give me one more orgasm and then I'll caress you."
"Ah, San." The searing sensation of his fingers roughly pinching your clit through the wet material of your thong causes you to cry out hoarsely in agony. The sound of your wet, sensitive cunt splashing was clear and vivid; the sensation was brutal, but so indescribable you were ready to faint from pleasure.
He's going to tear you apart.
"Cum for me, Chagia. I know you can do it. Sperm for us; make Youngie and me proud of you".
Your eyes rolled back in your head and you swore that your cunt was on fire, your whole body shuddering in electrifying spasms of pleasure that made your toes curl up and your thighs shake. San's hand was still firmly around your throat, holding your head upright as you had your orgasm.
It had shattered you so badly that the fall seemed dramatic, and you went completely limp as the orgasm dissipated, turning you into an inconsolable, whimpering, disorderly mass.
They had blown your brains out.
"There you are, Gongjunim, I got you. You did so well." San muttered, but your mind was too tired to admit it. Amused at how angry and lost you looked, you saw stars as Wooyoung's hand tilted your head to the side in a teasing way to look at your confused face.
"You're no longer angry with us, are you, Peach?"
San removes his hand from your throat and allows Wooyoung to pull your face up to his own. Gentle fingers caress your cheekbones and soft lips wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks. At one point, you didn't even realise you were crying. It's such a contrast to his previous behaviour; here he is your usual adored Jung Wooyoung, a little clingy, a little annoying and with an unrealistic maternal instinct. Your best friend.
Fuck. Now it is time for you to start crying for the real time. You begin to sob, pushing Wooyoung away from you in a desperate attempt to get out of his arms. You can feel the wetness underneath you and it makes you feel worse and worse. You need to get out of here now. Your behaviour frightens them to death and San's hands are on your body again, squeezing your shoulders gently.
"Stop, stop for a second, Y/N. It's all right, Chagia. We have you."
You freeze at the sound of your name, like a deer caught in the headlights.
In anticipation of his next move, your whole body tenses like a string. Wooyoung's fingers intertwine with yours. It's a familiar gesture, so familiar to you, so ordinary, so perfected over the years of your friendship. San lets you go when he realises you're not going anywhere, and his face comes to rest next to Wooyoung's as you look at him.
He's handsome, too, to the point of madness, and trembles at the knees. His cheeks are flushed. There's still a lingering gleam of lust and excitement in his eyes, but with a touch of strange emotion. His plush lips are soft and swollen from all the kissing, and his body glistens with sweat. And the reason he looks like that is because of you. You look at Wooyoung and see that he looks exactly the same, but the emotion in his eyes is more obvious than ever.
You want to crawl off his lap and cower in shame in the corner of the room so you don't have to look at all that tenderness and loveliness in his foxy eyes. You can handle his cheeky, flirtatious backside with ease, but this kind of Wooyoung is new territory for you.
"We… shit. This shouldn't have happened. This is the first rational thought to come out of your mouth all day. And you should have said it a lot sooner, before your two best friends made you cum twice with a squirting orgasm.
"Chagia, I think there's something we need to talk about, but first let's get you back to your normal self."
You don't argue; just nod and realize that San is absolutely right. You look like a complete mess, covered in saliva and lubricant. You can feel Wooyoung's cum seeping through the fabric of his pajama bottoms and drying on the inside of your thigh.
You look fucked.
"Yes, I think we have a lot to talk about."
It sounds terribly stupid, but what else can you say? Can we forget it? Or can we fuck again?
All your years of sexual longing for them have turned into a resounding slap in your face.
"Go take a bath, Peach, and we'll talk. San and I will take care of the rest."
For some reason, this sentence gave you a vague feeling of déjà vu. But you pushed the thought out of your head as quickly as it had come.
"Okay."
You finally slide off Wooyoung's lap, ignoring their stares at your almost naked body, there's no point in covering up or acting like a shy maiden, San's fingertips were rubbing your pussy just five minutes ago, bringing you to some kind of crazy orgasm, and the entire lower half of Woo's body is drenched in your secretions. If you've ever wanted to imagine how your friendship would turn out, this is it.
You trudge to the bathroom on your tired legs, pulling off your disgustingly wet thong on the way and throwing it on the floor. You turn on the light, turn on the tap and the whole room is immediately filled with the warm steam of hot water. Outside the door you can hear the muffled voices of the boys, who seem to be having some sort of heated argument, judging by San's irritated moaning and Wooyoung's loud whining.
You don't want to go into details; you still have time to destroy yourself. Your eyes catch sight of your reflection in the mirror. Tomorrow has come much earlier for you, if the fucked-up look on your face is any indication. Dishevelled hair, hickey marks, bruises and swollen lips from biting. What a beautiful morning after graduation!
"Wooyoung, you should have waited for me." San's voice is much louder now.
"As if I'm the only one who fucked her. Don't try to tell me it's all my fault."
You still don't want to join the conversation.
A pink, glistening puddle of something that smells like candy spreads across the bathtub. Thanks to Mingi, you have a whole collection of these colourful bombs. He's always had a soft spot for all things cute and charming, and he's taken every opportunity to spoil you to death with them.
With a tired sigh, you take another look at yourself in the mirror. So, Peach, are you ready for the consequences?
Turning away from your reflection, you lock the door with a click.
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kookslastbutton · 6 months ago
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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iii
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✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
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pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)
genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love
Word count: 5.3k+
Warnings: some time skips (none too huge), oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, lots of introspection, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, themes of abandonment, mention of love bombing, reoccurring nightmares, sleep paralysis, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, death (minor character), life-threatening accident (major character)
playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.
a/n: ANGST ANGST ANGST...don't say I never warned you hahaha. Anyway, once again, I had an amazing time writing this! (although nervous af 👉🏼 👈🏼) Just FYI, there are some time skips as this starts a few weeks after the gala! So to clarify, it’s now 3 months since oc’s divorce was officially finalized, as in done (the process itself took way longer). The chapter continues from there and yeah, the pace is picked up. Okay, let’s go! Enjoy! 🥰
series masterlist | next >>
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Fresh linen. Warm breeze. The smell and sound of the ocean.
You know this place too well, like a memory you hoped to have forgotten. Why are you here now? You glance around, taking in the familiar details—the blank ceiling above, the soft comforter that curls around your body like silk against your skin, and delicate rose petals scattered at the foot of the bed. It’s exactly as it was before — it feels exactly the same; too quiet, too peaceful, and too good to be true.
The sunlight streaming through the window is blinding, yet it draws you in with a force you can't resist. Carefully, you stand up, your feet meeting the cool wood floor, and you shiver. Each step you take towards the window feels heavier, like wading through water. When you reach the window, you see the sandy beach below, the waves beating rhythmically against the shore. It’s beautiful, but the painful kind.
To the left, a young couple, not much older than yourself, their hands tightly intertwined, as if afraid to let go. To the right, an older couple sitting further up the beach, comfortably silent as they take in the horizon, reminiscent of their many years together. You always dreamt of achieving the latter, yet here you stand, having neither, and the chances of ever obtaining it growing dimmer with each passing day.
For many, this was supposed to be a place of happiness, a symbol of love, promises, and new beginnings, but not for you. For you, it was a cocoon, trapping you in a deceptive comfort. You close your eyes, trying to steady your rapid breathing, yet it doesn’t prove to be of much help. Images from your past that you’ve tried blocking out of your mind time and time again suddenly resurface — the arguments, the tears, the feeling of everything and nothing at the same time.
“You’re up early,” His voice startles you, causing you to spin around in a panic. At that moment, your heart tightens in your chest, and a cold sweat forms on your brow. You thought you were alone. You’re certain of it. Yet the sight of your ex-husband standing only a few feet away, his hair still damp from his morning shower, is enough to leave you completely speechless.
"Why are you here?" you whisper, your voice trembling.
"Why are you here?" he counters, his dark eyes piercing into yours. "Isn't this what you wanted? To remember us, to remember how it felt to be together?”
What? This isn't making any sense. Why is he talking to you as if he were a ghost? Your eyes search frantically around the room until you spot it—the wedding band on his finger. No, not again. You hear yourself plead, but the words don't leave your lips. All at once, the room begins to feel smaller, the walls closing in on you. You're stuck in another manifestation of your past, this time reliving your honeymoon, three years ago in Greece.
"I didn't want this," you say, your voice barely audible. "I wanted to forget this."
"But you can't forget, can you?" he says, stepping closer. “You remember this view. You remember the floors and the walls. You remember that we had our first time together here and promised our devotion to each other."
“That’s not fair, Jungkook," you reply, taking a step back, "it's not fair at all, you left me. You don't get to patronize me like this."
“We both know our marriage came with stipulations, __. So when did I ever give you a reason to stay? Or to love me?”
You’re back in the bed, the sheets now suffocating rather than comforting. The sound of the ocean is louder, more insistent, drowning out your thoughts. You want to scream, to run, but you’re paralyzed by the fear, the guilt, the regret.
"This isn’t real,” you say to yourself, tears streaming down your face. “I’m dreaming, none of this is happening.”
“You can't escape what we had, or what we lost. We’ll always be here, together __, in this place,” he says softly, reaching out to touch your hand.
"No," you whisper, pulling your hand away. "I need to wake up. I need to let go...of you."
The room fades, his figure dissolving into the shadows. The sound of the ocean becomes a distant murmur as you fight to open your eyes. Wake up, please wake up. It's your own pleads chanting in your head. Finally, with a gasp, you awake, the nightmare diminishing like vapor.
“Fuck,” you curse, fingers gripping your sheets, “just another damn dream.” Rolling onto your back, you take a deep breath before reaching out for the glass of water on your nightstand. Its coolness soothes your dry throat. You reach for your phone next, checking the time—4:47 AM. Too early to start the day, too late to attempt falling back to sleep.
Your thumb hovers over Jimin’s name in your text threads. It would be 10 AM where he is. You consider sending a message, but you find yourself at a loss for words. Forget it, you lock your phone and rise from your bed, you’ll go for a walk instead. Yeah, it’s brisk outside, but the fresh air will help clear your mind.
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After tossing on your warmest coat and scarf, you head outside, the sun beginning to break over the horizon. At first, you wander aimlessly, lost in thought as you pass the odd person or two on the sidewalk. One individual accidentally knocks into you, yet he's quick to apologize. You easily understand their rush; perhaps they've just finished the night shift and are eager to reach the comfort of home.
You imagine their loved ones who must be waiting for them. You could be wrong, and maybe you're biased, but the image you depict is a future you once envisioned for yourself—one of laughter, love, and a warm family. It’s a dream you secretly carried as a child, amidst your unstable upbringing. But as the years passed, what was once a lifelong aspiration felt more and more elusive, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. It seems, in the end, it was just a dream…nothing more.
Of course, you've achieved other goals instead, success in your career for one. It's what you wanted most the more you became an adult. Even before Jungkook came in the picture you were thriving. Yes, you needed investors to expand, but you had already made a strong name for yourself, hence the reason his company even reached out to you for a partnership in the first place.
The second, and more formidable goal you’ve achieved was saving your company. You built your business with an earnest heart, good morals, and an ambition to serve a community. You couldn’t let it all be washed out by a larger, greedier industry giant. You had to do something. Too bad your judgment was skewed the day you saw a similar ambition in Jungkook’s eyes; he was just as determined as you to save what was his.
For a while you got what you wanted, stability for your business. But you got too invested, too short-sighted to anticipate that one day, it would all feel hollow without someone proper to share it with. Alas, your prior hopes, the ones you thought were buried long ago, began returning to you as if they were an overwhelming tsunami.
You wanted warmth.
You wanted intimacy.
You wanted a home.
You sought companionship with Jungkook but no, you read the signs all wrong. Once you dropped the L word, his attentiveness towards you skyrocketed. He began calling you while you were apart, surprising you with little gifts, and setting more time aside so you could both take Bam to the dog park on free days. But then it all stopped. After months of showering you with attention, his efforts exhausted him, so he looked for the first exit out.
You remember getting the text one afternoon— When will you be home tonight? We need to talk about something. Selfishly, you hoped he was going to tell you that you could take that trip to Fiji together. You had been hinting at it for the last two weeks. Of course, you were wrong because the last time you checked, trip itineraries didn’t come with divorce papers. At that moment, you realized that Jungkook didn’t try to love you in the slightest, he tried loving at you; love bombing 101. Your ties are now completely severed.
Yesterday marked three months since your divorce was finalized. You didn’t cry like you thought you would, but you did meet with Melody that day. As your therapist, she offered you her empathy, validation, and perspective. You feel you’ve gotten better since you started meeting with her, finally beginning to heal. Yet the unsettling dream that haunted your sleep last night shows you there are many things still left to resolve, feelings you need to confront, but where to start?
You love your ex-husband, but why?
Can it even be called love?
And do you really need him to love you back?
While you can only offer fragments of an answer for the first two, you seem to have a better-formed answer for the last.
No, you don’t need Jungkook to love you. He’s proven to you time and time again that you are not the one he can bear his heart to. He’s always reiterating that he wants you to find someone else, someone more deserving of you, whatever that means. Likely, it’s all projection. Out of the two of you, he’s the one more likely to re-marry.
As for you, you’ll always love him, at least a semblance of it. After all, he was once a part of you. But what was once a part of you, doesn’t need to be anymore. You have to let him go...though you wish you didn't have to.
You continue walking straight until you find yourself drawn to a small park overlooking the city skyline. It's fairly empty, with only a few people nearby. As you settle onto a weathered bench, you take in the view before you. It stretches endlessly. Sunrises have always held a special place in your heart—the amber glow breaking through the abyss of darkness as if a beacon of hope.
"You'll get through this __," you reassure yourself, “one day at a time.”
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“Happy six months, boss!”
A goofy, boxy smile graces the man’s lips as he leans against the doorframe of your office. You take in his appearance: crème-colored sweater paired with dark brown slacks, the fabric impeccably tailored to his tall, lean frame. His ebony hair is perfectly parted down the center and feathered out to either side of his face, giving him a soft, approachable look. The glasses are new though, round with a hint of gold. Though a minor accessory, they seem to tie the rest of the look together.
Classy, yet cozy, you hum silently, it suits him.
Everything about the way he’s dressed today complements his features—not that it could be any other way, as Taehyung could never not look good in something. You learned that the hard way when you opted against a gaudy shirt and pant set your stylists suggested he wear for a commercial. Taehyung, being a free spirit, decided to try it on for kicks, and yeah, it strangely worked. He ended up shooting the entire commercial with it on. That video’s gotten your business the highest engagement rate across all your media platforms to this day.
“Mr. Kim, does six months of working together really merit a celebratory drop-in?” You lean back in your desk chair, arms folded as you narrow your eyes at the man. You're taunting him, not that he minds.
“Please,__,” he starts, stepping further into the room, his presence effortlessly filling the space. “The only person that still calls me that is the intern who works on set with us. Makes me feel old, like I’m double my real age.”
“Well, you are older than both of us.”
Taehyung gives you the look, a mix of amusement and mild aggravation.
“Two years is hardly considered older, but if you’re done trying to prod me, I’d like to ask you a series of serious questions.”
“Okay, what?” You straighten your back, curious to know what he’s thinking.
“Red or white wine?” He waits for your response, eyes seemingly hopeful. You're unsure where he's going with this, so you delay your response, suspicious of the spontaneity of the inquiry.
“Red,” you respond, cautiously. Taehyung seems pleased.
“Strawberries or blueberries?”
“Strawberries, though I prefer cherries most."
“Science or literature?"
"Literature." You surprise him with this one. "I like books, vintage ones."
"Do a lot of reading in your spare time?" he asks.
"When I get some, yes."
"Me too. Tolstoy?"
"Occasionally," you answer. "Where are you going with this, Taehyung?"
He shrugs. "Just making conversation." He pauses before continuing, “I also happen to know a place that offers all those things plus private bookings. How about you and I go for dinner tonight, as colleagues? If you hate the wine, I’ll drink it for you.”
The weight of his request hits you like a ton of bricks. Apart from a handful of social events, you and Taehyung haven't exactly mingled outside of the office. His sudden invitation to go out for dinner takes you by surprise, especially considering the nature of your professional relationship. However, you can't deny the subtle shifts in his behavior, the way he's been checking in on you more often, especially since the Winter Gala. Weeks have passed since then, but, no doubt, the memory of that night still lingers in both your minds—the shaming from a bitter business competitor, the unwanted press shining a light on your divorce, and your ex-husband who so easily approached you like it was nothing.
Taehyung suggested for you to slip away through the back door with him, offering to drive you home himself rather than leaving you with your limo driver. But you declined, feeling embarrassed that he wasn't merely a witness to the night's events, but also made to be a spectacle himself. You never wanted him to feel like he had to pity you or coax you through your personal trials. Being a good colleague is one thing, but he didn't need to go above and beyond.
“I don’t know if I can join you tonight, I'm sorry. I have a lot to do,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. It's not far from the truth with the mountain of business reports and budget plans to look over. Though your business remains functioning, it's a lot to maintain, especially with the number of investors having withdrawn their support once news got out about your marital separation. It's unfortunate how much a person's situation and the things they've built can change on someone else's dime.
“You sure?" Taehyung tries again, careful not to sound pushy. "The place isn’t overly posh, but we could go elsewhere if you’d prefer."
“I’m sorry, Taehyung, maybe another time?” you say, fingers fidgeting with a few documents on your desk, a nervous habit you developed ages ago. “I-"
“I understand,” he says, his expression softening, a hint of disappointment flickering in his eyes before he masks it with a gentle smile. "I have a film shoot that might go late anyway. Speaking of which, I'm expected on set in about half an hour so I'm going to head out, but if you change your mind, you know how to reach me."
You nod, recalling having his contact in your phone. The two of you agreed it would be easier to coordinate meetings and schedules this way. "I will, thank you. Good luck with your filming."
As you watch him leave, a twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience. Perhaps you shouldn't have dismissed him so quickly, considering how insistent he seemed. It's as if he was genuinely looking forward to the affair.
No, you can't entertain it any further. You have no way of knowing how far the night might've led—it's best to leave Kim Taehyung alone.
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When you declined Taehyung's invitation to get dinner, you didn’t expect it to result in not seeing or hearing from him for the next week and a half. As an endorser, he doesn't work at the office regularly, coming and going as needed and since you hadn’t had any promotional projects for him recently, his absence seemed normal at first.
But this was Kim Taehyung. The same Taehyung who loved making spontaneous visits to the company, especially towards the end of the week. He often came in once, twice, sometimes three times a week to talk with Namjoon, your secretary, in particular. Somehow, the pair had become friends, and since Namjoon’s desk was near yours, Taehyung would drop by whenever he saw your door open. So, not hearing from him for 11 days straight was strange, like he'd vanished.
It was now Friday evening, the clock pushing 5 pm. You consider texting him to make sure he's okay, but wouldn’t that be hypocritical? You had agreed with yourself to leave him alone. Maybe he was on vacation, perhaps at a vineyard, or had taken on another film project. Being a highly talented actor, Taehyung had no shortage of casting directors contacting him for their movies and TV shows.
Embarrassingly, you hadn’t actually seen any of his movies. You enjoyed a good rom-com now and then, like the ones Taehyung starred in, but you usually opted for something more mindless when you had the time to watch anything.
You can imagine the loyal following he has though, as Taehyung was the epitome of a "dream boat" with his natural good looks and expressive eyes. He must be good at kiss scenes, which must be especially difficult for anyone dating him. You know you'd have a hard time accepting it at least, the fact that your flawless actor boyfriend was off making out with equally beautiful co-stars on set, that is. Anyway, as your endorser, maybe you should try supporting his films a bit more. There had to be one that would catch your eye.
Curious, you open a new tab on your phone and search for him.
"Holy fuck," the curse leaves your lips the minute the search returns. Dozens of articles display on your phone screen at once, all covering South Korean actor Kim Taehyung's recent motorcycle accident. You checked the publishing date—six hours ago. “Taehyung’s in the hospital. He’s in the fucking hospital!”
Panicked, you leave your office to speak with your secretary.
“Ms. __,” Namjoon greets you immediately, a trace of hesitation in his tone upon seeing your frazzled state. “Is everything alright?”
“Joon,” you refer to him by his pet name, “Did you know that Taehyung’s in the hospital?”
“What?” He seems as shocked as you, his eyebrows shooting up in alarm.
“It happened this morning around eleven or something. It was a collision, a motorcycle accident. Oh god, he’s—he’s been taken to the ER,” you choke out the words, struggling to maintain your composure as you try recalling one of the articles you skimmed. “We have to go. I have to go right now.”
“I’m coming with you.” Namjoon leaps from his chair, grabbing his keys from his desk drawer. “I’ll drive.”
“No,” you stop him, “I don’t know how long this’ll be and you usually work until 5:30, so I don't want you to have to be stuck at the hospital with me. I want you to be able to call it an early night if you want. We'll take separate cars over.”
“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll meet you over there then?”
“Yeah.” You nod back, clutching your keys harder in your palm. “Yeah, sounds good.” You turn around to head for the nearest exit, but your secretary stops you mid-step.
“__,” he calls you by your name, having known you for the past decade permits him to do so. He softens his eyes when he sees the worry in your own clear as day. “He’s gonna be okay. We have to believe that. Please drive safe.”
“You too,” you say, then disappear from his sight.
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When you arrive, it’s a madhouse. Sirens blare as ambulances rush into the hospital parking lot, doctors and nurses race from room to room, and fans—so many fans—crowd outside, all waving signs of comfort and support.
“I'm here to see Kim Taehyung,” you say urgently to the charge nurse. She recognizes you immediately and throws you a look of distaste, but you’re too focused on the emergency at hand to care. “I’m sure you know who I am, but I need to see him. We work together, we're colleagues.”
“Ms. __,” she replies, surprisingly calm and collected amidst her obvious dislike of you. “I’m afraid he’s currently receiving serious medical attention and won’t be able to have any visitors at the moment.”
“I’ll wait,” you blurt out the words faster than you anticipate. You feel like you're eating your words from earlier about leaving him alone, but this is different—his life is on the line. "I can wait for him.”
“Visiting hours are only until 8 pm. I really don’t think—”
“Please,” you interrupt, your voice stern and urgent. “He's part of my team. He's my...friend. I have to know if he’s okay.”
The nurse hesitates, her expression softening slightly as she sees the genuine concern in your eyes. “Alright,” she finally says, her tone firm but kinder. “You can wait in the family lounge, but I can’t promise you’ll be able to see him anytime soon."
“Thank you,” you say, relief flooding through you. She directs you to a quiet room down the hall, away from the commotion where you're better able to calm your racing thoughts. You find a seat in the far corner immediately and send a quick text to Namjoon, letting him know where you are.
As you wait, the minutes drag by painfully slow. You can’t stop replaying the articles in your mind from earlier, the words “motorcycle accident” echoing like a mantra. How did this even happen? How bad was his condition? How much strain is this going to put on his acting career? You wish you knew.
A handful of nurses enter the lounge occasionally, calling out names and providing updates, but none of them are Taehyung’s. You find your ears burning every time the door opens, heart racing, only to sink back into your seat when it’s not about him.
Finally, you catch sight of Namjoon, his face mirroring your concern. He spots you immediately and rushes over, taking a seat in the chair beside you. “Any news?” he asks, his voice low and urgent.
“Not yet,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “They said he’s receiving serious medical attention and don't know when we'll be able to see him. We have to leave by 8.”
Namjoon nods, his expression grim but unwavering “We’ll wait together.”
"If you need to leave sooner than—"
"I know," he interrupts. "I appreciate it, but please let me be here too."
You sit in silence from then on, exhaustion beginning to weigh heavy on both your shoulders. It's not until 7:35 when a doctor walks into the lounge, his tired eyes scan the room until they land on you and Namjoon.
“Are you here for Kim Taehyung?” he asks. "I'm Dr. Min."
You nod, your heart in your throat.
“He’s stable for now,” Dr. Min explains, “but he's still in critical condition. We’re doing everything we can.”
“Can we see him?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
He sighs. “Only for a few minutes. And you need to be prepared—he’s heavily sedated and has sustained significant injuries.”
“I understand,” you reply, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come.
Dr. Min leads you through a maze of hallways until you reach the ICU. As you enter Taehyung’s room, the sight of him hooked up to machines and covered in bandages nearly breaks you. You take a deep breath and step closer, Namjoon right next to you.
“Taehyung,” you whisper, but he remains motionless, his breathing steady and rhythmic. The severity of his injuries is evident in the way he lies.
“We're here, Taehyung,” Namjoon continues, noticing your slightly frozen state. “We’re both here for you. Please, fight through this. You and I, we're good pals, remember? Like brothers. You have to—"
Although the more collected one before, Namjoon begins to struggle with his words. You place a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Having known him for 10 years, you know that despite his strong exterior, he has one of the softest souls you know.
"I think I have to go, __. It'll be better if I see him when he's awake. I want to stay longer, but I just don't know if I can."
"I understand, we can't stay much longer anyway. Go home and get some rest. Dr. Min will call us when he's awake and able to talk."
After you give him a hug, Namjoon leaves the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung. You end up pulling up a chair beside his bed and slowly reach out to touch his hand. It's instinctive for you, the need to feel his heartbeat overpowering any other thought.
"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Taehyung," you start, your voice a mere murmur. "You'll push through this, right? Like in the movies you film. I confess I haven't seen any of them yet, but—but I will! That's how I found out about all this actually. We hadn't seen you for nearly two weeks, so I searched you up. Not in a weird way though, okay? Not like...anyway, I'm sorry I said no to you that day. When you asked to go for dinner, it threw me off. This whole thing with my ex-husband just has my mind in fifty million directions, so I promise it wasn't you. I hope you didn't think that."
"You've always seemed to show up for me, whether it's for the good of the company or even a little emotionally in some aspects. With the reputation I have these days, I'll always be grateful that you chose to work with me. You have a good heart, Taehyung, so much that I think if we ever got close, I think it might be unbearable for me," you pause, a couple of tears slipping down your face.
Just then, a creaking of the room's door momentarily pulls your attention away. Dr. Min stands a few feet away, clearing his throat—a gentle but firm signal that it's time for you to leave.
"I have to go soon, but I'll be back tomorrow, okay? Even if you're still asleep or not, I'll stop in and sit with you for a while because...because I need to be sure that you'll be alright. Namjoon will come see you too when he's ready. But I'll see you in the morning, alright Kim?"
You squeeze Taehyung's hand gently before heading out of the room, thanking the medical staff along the way.
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When you get home, the first thing you do is head straight for the bathroom. Your whole body feels riddled with stress and exhaustion, and you know that the only thing that can offer even the slightest amount of solace is the warmth of water.
Yet not four minutes after immersing yourself in your tub does your phone ring, demanding your attention. Being this late into the evening, you figure it has to be Jimin.
But you're wrong.
When you reach to answer the call, it's actually an unrecognizable number that's flashing on the screen. You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to answer or let it go to voicemail.
"Hello?" you answer cautiously, curiosity getting the best of you.
There's a brief pause on the other end before his voice comes through, words slightly muddled. "Hey, it's me," he says, his tone soft. "I've been...I've been thinking about my life, you know? About everything.
"J-Jungkook?" Your heart sinks as you quickly decipher the owner of the voice, but then it hardens. It's obvious from the slurring of his words that he's been drinking. "Why on earth are you calling me? And at this godforsaken hour too."
"I told you...I've been thinking about my life."
"I'm hanging up."
"No, please, stay on the line for five minutes. Please, I have to tell you...what I've been thinking."
"You have three minutes," you sigh, ready for anything (except what he was about to spring on you).
"I wanted to save my company," he continues, his voice wavering slightly. "For my mom's sake, you know? My dad owned it and stuff but she was the one who was behind all the technology...and that's why I married you. You...reminded me of her."
Your breath catches in your throat as he reveals the truth behind his actions, the raw honesty of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. You knew very little of Jungkook's mother, too, as he didn't speak of her often.
"And then...then there's the real reason I divorced you," he admits, his voice breaking slightly. "My parents had a terrible marriage, you know? My mom...she had to manage my dad's temper for years...he didn't love her at all. He just married her because she was smart and could make him rich. It made her so unhappy, but you know she loved him so much. She...she passed away when I was 16, and...and I didn't want that for you. I didn't want you to be trapped like she was, because I'm like my dad you know? My feelings are...weird... I never know what the hell I'm...feeling. I'm probably not making a lot of sense am I?"
"I'm trying to understand." You want to hang up here and now but every time he speaks, you cant bring yourself to do it. The pain in his voice cuts through you like a knife, and it's a side of him that you've rarely seen before.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry for being such a dumbass that day I got my stuff. That was like, six months ago and I still hate myself for it. I shouldn't have made an advance on you like that. I was...I was immature, and I wasn't thinking."
"After the gala," he continues, his words becoming more coherent as he speaks. "I...I felt even more guilty, you know? Because, I still have a photo of you and Bam on my dresser. It's small, but I've tried to put it away over and over and over again, but I can't do it. I don't know what's wrong with me...it's almost a year since we lived under the same goddam roof and I can still smell your perfume, I can still remember how you laugh with both your lips and your eyes...the way you scrunch you nose when—"
"What are you trying to say Jungkook?" You interrupt. "That you're sorry and can't get me out of your head, so you need my forgiveness to move on?"
"No! That's...that's not it at all. I mean, I do want your forgiveness but—"
"Well, what the fuck is it?" You hate how aggressive your voice is sounding, but the obscene amount of incoherent information he's revealing to you is overwhelming. "It's 10 freaking pm at night, I had a long day, I'm sleep deprived, and Taehyung's in the fucking hospital which is so distressing, so I'm sorry, but I can't handle any more of your cryptic messages!"
"I think I might love you," he finally says, his voice raising as well. "I know I'm...I'm being a dumbass, but I...I think I love you. I love you __, fuck!"
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a/n: So....how are we feeling about Jungkook rn? Also, my darling Taehyung is taking one for the team here 😭 🤍 LMK what you think! Lastly, I understand the timeline of events is a bit tricky to follow, so if it helps I can put something in the series masterlist to help. Vote for jjk or kth!
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side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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halfvalid · 1 year ago
Note
Hey! Since your requests are open, may I request opla!Zoro x reader (established relationship) where the reader has a lot of self doubt (not only in their looks, but their abilities and their place in the crew) since it’s, unfortunately, been shoved done their throat by pretty much eveyone they knew, even their parents, that they would never be good enough? Maybe Zoro figures out that they have sort of been spiralling lately and they have a talk about the readers past and the problems they’re facing and he comforts them? Maybe it ends sort of spicy or turns out full on spicy, if you’re comfortable with that!
daybreak
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ABOUT
alternate title: some fluffy established relationship hurt/comfort to save my soul
rating: teen & up
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 2.9k (short; sorry!)
description: zoro notices you've been seeming off recently, and you confide in him your insecure feelings of self-worth. he comforts you.
tags: strawhat!reader, established relationship, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, kissing, no use of ‘y/n’, soft zoro, ridiculously stupidly absolutely horrifyingly fluffy. 
author’s note: thank you so much for the very lovely request! i hope i did your prompt justice; i ended up not writing any spice at the end (just slightly suggestive) since i didn't think it fit the story but i hope you like it anyway ^^
it feels slightly ooc, but i also wrote it in the span of two hours at 1:00 am so can you really blame me. 
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It was morning on the Going Merry, and you were cleaning up the wreckage that had been scattered along the deck in your last battle. The crew had gone up against some other pirates; it’d been late at night, and the attack had come suddenly, what you’d thought would be a peaceful docking turning combative quickly. 
You barely remembered the fight. One moment, the warning bell had sounded, and the next Zoro was rolling out of bed beside you, grabbing his swords and darting out of your bedroom before you could even register what was happening. The fight had gone in the Straw Hats’ favor, thankfully; Zoro, Luffy, and Sanji had fended off most of the threat, and you were back on the open sea, safe from enemies for at least a little while now. 
You let out a sigh as you swept shattered glass into a dustpan, shaking out the collected trash into a nearby empty barrel. None of the men usually bothered to start cleaning up—typical—so you’d pulled yourself out of bed as early as possible to get the ship looking a little more like normal. 
Zoro had left some corpses on the deck for you to deal with, and you’d had to toss them overboard, a grimace tugging at your lips as blood stained the white of your blouse. No matter. You’d finished sweeping, at least; all you had left to do was mop, right as everyone else was waking up. 
You filled a bucket with warm water and soap, and were just grabbing the mop from the closet when you heard footsteps. You glanced up, surprised to see Zoro heading towards you, one hand grasped loosely around his sword handle as always. “You’re up early,” he said, casual as ever. “Woke up and you were gone.” 
“Figured I should get a head start on cleaning,” you answered quickly, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you dunked the mop into the bucket. His brows creased as he watched you start mopping, pushing the handle along the deck to wipe it clear of bloodstains. 
“How long have you been doing this?” Zoro asked, after a few seconds of delayed silence. You shrugged, dunking your mop again before going for another few swipes. “We can help clean too, you know.” 
“It’s the least I can do,” you protested. You moved past him, trying very hard not to meet his eyes—but Zoro didn’t let you pass, one hand going out to grab the mop rod and stopping you in your tracks. “What?” 
“What do you mean, least you could do?” Zoro asked blankly. 
“I mean—” you shrugged, muscles limp like your entire body was sagging you down. “You and the others were the ones to deal with the pirates, so I figured I could at least—”
Zoro still looked confused, brows pulled together, forehead taut with a frown. “I distinctly recall you throwing a pirate twice your size overboard. Unless I was imagining things.” 
You sighed. “Not what I meant.” You tried to push past Zoro again, but he didn’t let you, hand still tightly grasped around your mop handle. 
“Okay, what did you mean, then?” 
“Nothing. Will you just let me finish cleaning so there aren't blood stains all over Luffy’s ship?” You sighed again, even as you attempted to keep the sound inside—but you couldn’t help it. It was like there was an anchor stuck inside of you, pulling everything from your feelings to your body down, the weight of gravity tugging at your features. 
“Luffy’s ship?” 
You shrugged. “The Straw Hats’ ship. Whatever.” 
“Our ship,” Zoro said. There was a certain twinge of something in his words; still blankness, but laced with a dawning realization that you weren’t sure you liked. “You’re upset.” 
“Nope.” This time you really did manage to get free of Zoro’s grasp, yanking your mop out of his grip and starting back on cleaning the deck. The acrid smell of iron hit your nose as you scrubbed the dried blood off—you’d have to go back in later with a sponge to get all the cracks and crevices, but for now this would be okay. 
Zoro followed you, unceasing with his interrogation. “Yes, you are. I know when you’re upset, and you’re upset. What happened.” It was more of a statement than a question—Zoro didn’t often doubt himself, really, which was one of the many things that’d helped make you stumble into falling for him. “Was it about last night? You know the cook's just making fun when he keeps a counter, right? It doesn’t matter if he brought two or five more men down than you.” 
“It’s not about that,” you insisted. 
“So you admit you are upset.” 
You groaned, finally turning to look Zoro in the eye. He’d stopped walking, the dawning sun glinting hazey gold onto his skin in the early hour. There was still an overcast of blue from the night in the sky, and it made the heavens look ethereal, watery and glittering. 
“Come on,” he urged. “Just tell me what’s wrong.” 
“It’s really nothing you need to be concerned about,” you attempted, but your voice was weak now. Zoro stepped closer to you, gently pulling the mop out of your hands. Your fingers let go easily. “It’s silly.” 
Zoro gave you a look. “Out with it.” 
“I don’t know, I just—” your fingers clenched, like your hand was trying to find something to do now that Zoro had rid you of your mop. “Comparatively I just don’t do much. So I want to help out as much as possible.” 
“Who said you don’t do much?” 
“What?” 
“I don’t think I need to repeat myself,” Zoro said. He let the mop fall to the ground, arms crossing over his chest as he watched you. “Who said you don’t do much?”
“I mean, nobody. It’s just true.” You shrugged, distinctly uncomfortable with the way Zoro was looking at you—all attentive, like he was trying to strip you raw with his eyes, uncover whatever secrets might be hiding in the pores of your skin and the gaps of your teeth. “Luffy’s the captain, we wouldn’t be able to do anything without Nami, you and Sanji are the fighters, and Usopp’s everyone’s favorite. I’m just kind of… filler?” 
The more you spoke, the worse your words got, your tone turning more desperate as the sentences fumbled out of your mouth. Zoro’s eyebrows raised higher as you went on, and you flushed, red prickling all over your skin. 
“First of all,” he started, “Usopp is not my favorite. That’d be you. And—where are you getting this from?” 
You shook your head, trying to backtrack. “Nothing. Nowhere. It’s not that import—”
“Yes, it is, and we’re talking about it.” Zoro pulled a nearby barrel by the side of the ship, plopping himself down atop it and gesturing for you to sit. You didn’t, but you did move over to the railing, hands curling around the painted wood. “Speak.” 
“I have nothing to say,” you tried. Zoro just shot you an unimpressed look, and you squirmed. “Fine. I don’t know. I joined last, so I just figured… you were all kind of already set without me, right?” 
Zoro shook his head. “We’re a crew,” he said, voice strong but somehow still gentle. “You’re part of us for a reason. What, this entire time did you think you were—expendable?” 
You fidgeted uncomfortably, weight shifting from one leg to the other. “No.” 
“Don’t lie.” 
“Yes. No. I don’t know. Last night—I only got, like what, two guys? And you reacted way faster to the situation than I did,” you started, words flailing around on your tongue as they rushed out. It was indelicate, for certain, and you yourself couldn’t make sense of most of the words—but once you started, you couldn’t stop, even as they slurred together. “I was still getting out of bed and grabbing my weapon when you’d already dealt with half the enemy crew.” 
“Don’t compare yourself to me,” Zoro said with a shake of his head. “That’s not fair. I’ve been training since I was eight. It’s different.” 
You huffed out an exasperated breath, trying not to let your frustration get the best of you. “I can't help it sometimes. It’s a bad habit.” You loosened your grip on the ship railing, staring out at the golden clouds hovering over the sky.  “Sorry.” 
“Don’t apologize,” Zoro answered. He didn’t say anything after that—giving you a space to talk, you supposed, in case you wanted to. But his hand did reach up to press against yours, pinky brushing against your finger as he held onto the railing beside you. 
“I guess I just always had these standards back at the village,” you managed out eventually. Your island had always been one of the more traditional places in the East Blue, and there were plenty rules and guidelines abound. One of the many reasons you’d left the place in favor for Luffy and the Going Merry, really. “So I just… always want to do more. It’s not that bad.” 
“Right.” Zoro’s pinky looped around your finger, now, holding it close in a soft kiss of the hands. You sighed. 
“My parents were kind of rough on me, I guess,” you tried, sneaking a glance over at Zoro’s face to see if it satiated his curiosity at all. His expression remained as steel as ever, so you just continued. “They wanted me to be the best I could. But their standards were too high, even when I was little.” You found yourself rubbing circles into the back of Zoro’s hand with your finger, more so to comfort yourself than for any other reason. “Just normal stuff, like being upset about my school grades or my combat training levels being too low. Nothing that terrible.” 
“But…?” Zoro asked, tilting his head up to look at you. You smiled, but the action didn’t reach your eyes—it was all mouth and jaw, cheeks lifting but eyes glinting with the same glazed stare. 
“It just affected me a lot, I suppose,” you answered. “Always trying to get better. Never satisfied. And I guess now—I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough.” 
“For?” Zoro asked. His voice was low, soft, all hollow and empty inside. There was a tinge of roughness lacing it, like he’d forgotten to clear his throat, and the scratch of his vocal chords had surfaced up along with the words. 
“Myself. My parents. Luffy. You.” Your lips tightened into a line. Vaguely, you could feel the warm pinpricks of tears starting at your waterline, and you tried to will them back, letting out a little laugh. “Everyone, I guess.” 
Zoro’s hand had come to hold yours fully, fingers woven in between yours, thumb pressed firmly against the joint of your thumb. Somehow, that one motion managed to force the last of the words out of you—all wet and soft, eyes glued fiercely to the horizon in fear of seeing what was etched on Zoro’s face. 
“We do arranged marriages back at home,” you started, trying very hard to keep your voice from trembling. it worked only marginally—there was a tiny quaver in your tone, but it was soft, not noticeable unless you were really listening hard. “And my mom used to tell me I’d die alone. Because I wasn’t pretty enough, or smart enough, or anything enough for any of the boys there.” 
“Oh,” Zoro said. It was quiet; barely a whisper. You tried for a wry smile. 
“I like helping, though. I don’t mind cleaning up or whatever. It makes me feel more useful.” You tried to tug your hand out of Zoro’s grip, but his fingers tightened, keeping you in place. A nervous laugh escaped your throat. “And I know I’m part of the crew and all of this is just silly. So it’s really fine—”
Zoro tugged your intertwined hands to his chest, causing you to stumble and glance down at him in surprise. His expression was nearly unreadable. It’d darkened, and there was a contemplative gaze in his eyes, lips parted with invisible words perched on his tongue. “Don’t do that,” he whispered, and your stomach dropped, the nervousness that had gathered inside during the conversation tightening up into a hall. “Don’t say it’s okay or that it’s not important. If it’s making you upset, then it matters.” 
“I guess,” you tried, and Zoro’s gaze lifted to fix you with a glare. “Sorry.” 
“It’s okay, I just…” Zoro shook his head. “Look, whatever your parents used to tell you, whatever you have ingrained in your head—it’s not true. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to do more, but… you don’t have to do it. You’re enough already.” 
Your gaze softened, lips falling open to say something, but Zoro wasn’t finished yet. “You shouldn’t come out here and force yourself to clean up just to make up for your—waste of space, or something. You’re not a servant. And you’re not wasting up any space. I think everyone would agree that you’re a very important and vital part of the crew.” 
“Thanks,” you whispered. Zoro’s hand was warm around yours, and you felt the threatening droplets of tears start to rise up at your waterline, ready to fall at any moment now. Zoro just nodded. 
“You’re a great fighter, and way smarter than what you give yourself credit for,” he said firmly. He raised your hand to his mouth, then, leaning over to press a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. “And the boys on your island have to be blind, because you’re pretty enough. You’re more than pretty enough.”
He whispered the last words, all soft and sacred on his tongue. “You’re beautiful.” 
That was enough to drive your tears over the edge. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the flow as the warm sensation of liquid streaking down your cheeks began. Droplets caught in the crevice of your lips, and at the hinge of your jaw—Zoro brought a hand up to wipe them away. “Are you okay?” he whispered. 
“Yeah, I just, um.” You shook your head, sniffing. “Thank you. That… helped. I think.” 
Zoro bummed out his response. “Of course,” he said easily. “You’re my girl. It’s my job to cheer you up.” He kissed your knuckles again. “And you can talk to any of us. I’m not really the best at this, but everyone else…” he shrugged. 
“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him. Zoro nodded, tugging you down until you finally took a seat on a crate beside him. “I think it’s just been worse lately.” 
“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re better than the waiter,” Zoro said. You just laughed. 
“I think you’re biased, but thank you,” you said. “Here, I, um, I promise I’ll let you know if I’m feeling down, I guess. If you don’t mind.” 
“Definitely don’t mind,” Zoro answered. This time he placed a gentle kiss on your neck, somewhere at the bottom near the back. “Leave the mopping for someone else. You’ve already done a lot.” 
“Okay,” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed as Zoro kissed the rest of the way up the back of your neck. He placed a final one right below your earlobe. With that, Zoro stood up, sweeping one arm under your legs and hoisting you up. You cracked open an eye to regard him with a blank look. “What are you doing?” 
“Bringing you back to my room,” Zoro answered. “You didn’t get much sleep tonight. And I doubt anyone wants to watch me kissing you on the main deck anyway.” 
That was fair enough reasoning, so you didn’t complain, letting him carry you all the way to his cabin and gently lay you down onto his bed. He leaned over to press a gentle kiss to your lips—you could still taste the saltwater from your tears from before. “Want me to stay?” Zoro asked. 
“You don’t have to,” you said automatically, and Zoro raised both his eyebrows. You let out a sigh. “Okay, I get it. Yes. Please stay.” 
“All you had to say,” Zoro said, shedding himself of his shoes and swords before leaning over the bed to watch you. He didn’t slip under the covers or anything, just propped an arm up on the mattress, kneeling beside the bed. There was tender silence for a few moments before Zoro spoke again. 
“I love you,” he said abruptly, voice rough but somehow still soft. Your heart beat too fast in your chest, ribcage squeezing in on the organ and making it skip. His hand slid along the mattress to find yours, and you took the offer, fingers clasping around his palm. 
“I love you too,” you whispered back. Zoe leaned over, then, the hand not intertwined with yours tilting your jaw over just so to allow him better access to your mouth. He kissed you full-on, tender but firm, mouth working against yours in a way that unraveled you entirely. Your grip on his hand tightened as he deepened the kiss, a soft sound emitting from low in your throat. Finally you broke apart, heaving for breath, exhales mixing together midair. An exchange of souls, you’d heard once, somewhere. 
“Come on,” you murmured, tugging Zoro closer to the bed so he got the hint. He slipped beside you onto it, turning your head again to meet you in another kiss. His hand drifted down to your waist, holding you securely in place.  
“I don’t think anyone should need us for a few more hours, right?” Zoro asked, and you laughed. He swallowed up the sounds with his mouth, tongue licking languidly into you as he rubbed delicate circles into the skin of your waist. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and then he was kissing you again. 
You let him siphon the soul out of your lungs, knowing you were getting his right back. 
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© halfvalid 2023
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runariya · 2 months ago
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I am in love with that Jk merman story of yourssss , you are such a talented author !!!! Keep it up with the good work .
Even i want to request a prompt after that story because i believe only you have the capability to bring that prompt to life (only if you want to write ofcourse, no pressure )
I have never read an ABO fic with enemies to lovers troupe in modern era , I mean just imagine them being the high-school academic rival wolves who can't bear standing eachother
but the moment they turn 18 and their wolves will develop some special senses and powers, they both will realise that they both are actually mates . damnnn now image the strong pull their wolves will feel towards eachother making them go crazy ( their wolves will fall in love with eachother the moment they will recognize eachother as mate and start rebelling their human counterparts and start convincing them to love eachother too .)
and how bad they will try to hide it , deny their wolves forbid their animal counterparts from eachother only to fail miserably in the end because yeah that mate bond will win 🥹
You can choose any BTS member you want because I love and enjoy reading all seven of them so go for any member you want .
Borahae 💜 , no pressure if you are not interested in writing this prompt , I will still adore you and your work 💜 😘 so feel free to reject this request if you want .
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part of the prompt game pairing: alpha!Jungkook x omega!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, "E"2L, ABO, high school romance warnings: Jungkook's the most pitiful teenager in all of existence, bad handling of emotions/feelings, a lot of cliques, denial, a little bit of physical fighting, mentions of blood, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 2.754
a/n: tysm for all your compliments, I'm so flattered 🫂 I've tweaked your request a tiny bit to fit the character of OC better and left out marking etc. bc they're still so young 🥹 hope that's okay 💕
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He hates you.
No, he loathes your entire existence.
That Miss Perfect attitude, excelling in everything you do as if it’s the easiest task in the world. You’ve been enemies since high school started—not because either of you declared it so, but because Jungkook simply can’t stand you.
You, on the other hand, are oblivious to this feud, always kind and friendly towards everyone, especially Jungkook. He doesn’t understand how you do it, staying so humble and kind towards him when he takes every opportunity to throw jabs your way, or cause you minor inconveniences, like not holding the door open or letting you trip more times than he can count.
It’s infuriating to watch you be so lovely, especially when you’re not only the smartest but also the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—something he will never admit. Ever.
“Jungkook?” Your soft, sweet voice startles him. He’s been too busy glaring at the papers scattered before him, his thoughts circling back to you. There's no one else in the lecture hall, and he didn’t even realise you’d entered. You seem to appear out of nowhere, catching him off guard. “I think you dropped this.”
You’re smiling again, that blinding smile of yours, starry eyes sparkling with joy, courteous as ever. He wants to scream. He doesn’t want this treatment from you, not when you’re a little older than him—well, only two months, but still. You’re 18 now, with your wolf, while he’s not, which only deepens his resentment. Once again, you’re ahead, better at something.
The whole school talked about your wolf. Despite your gentle nature, everyone was shocked to learn after your first turn that you’re an omega—one of the very few in the city, the only one known in school. It’s yet another thing Jungkook can’t stand, especially now that everyone, wolf or not, showers you with attention.
“Not mine,” Jungkook lies through his teeth, eyeing the pencil still held out towards him in your small, delicate hand, your nails perfectly manicured.
“Oh…” you murmur, glancing down at the pencil, your brows drawing together in disbelief. Of course, you don’t believe him. “But it’s got your initials, and it’s the one you’re always using.”
Damn you! Of course, you know it’s his favourite. He should’ve seen this coming.
“You think I’d use it after your germs have contaminated it?” Jungkook scoffs.
“That’s not very kind.” You purse your lips, those beautiful lips.
“It’s the truth, ___.”
“Is it okay if I keep it?”
What?! “What?” Jungkook can’t believe his ears. Why would you want to keep it?
“Can I keep your pen? It would be a waste to throw it away, especially when it looks so cool.” You repeat, smiling again.
The pencil is cool, and Jungkook has half a mind to just snatch it back, but he won’t give in. He won’t concede even the smallest defeat.
“I don’t care,” he grumbles. It’s enough to make you burst with joy, your face lighting up as you clutch the pencil to your chest.
“Thanks, Jungkook! You’re so kind!”
“Whatever.”
And ‘whatever’ indeed, because seeing you every day with his pencil, as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, drives him mad. He regrets his decision. He wants it back. It’s his, and what’s his should stay his, but it isn’t—and it makes him livid.
Livid in a way that fuels his pettiness, pushing him to new lengths to make your life difficult. He puts fake spiders in your bag, bumps into you when you’re struggling with your food tray in the canteen. But all of it is in vain, because you’re an omega—everyone’s darling. Every time something inconvenient happens to you, a horde of people rushes to your aid.
This alone is enough to make Jungkook reconsider his actions—or rather, the attention he’s giving you. It’s not like you care. It’s not like you treat him any differently when he’s mean. So what’s the point? At some stage, he’s not even sure why he started all this, why he loathes you so much. If he’s honest, you’ve never actually wronged him. Not once. And now, he’s running out of ways to break you, to show everyone your true colours, because no one can be this perfect, right?
It’s the Friday before his birthday weekend when you approach him again, this time holding a small present. You look up at him as he stands by his locker.
“Hey, Jungkook,” you say softly.
“What do you want?”
“Uhm, I know Sunday’s your 18th birthday and… well, I know you didn’t invite me to your party, which is totally fine! Don’t get me wrong! But I just wanted to give you this because it’s a big birthday, right? So, yeah…”
The tiny gift is wrapped in floral paper with a neatly tied bow, and it looks exactly how he imagined your presents would. It screams 'you', and he’s unsure what to say. He reckons he should just take it and thank you, but the way you’re looking up at him, so small and kind despite knowing you weren’t invited, bothers him like a sock slipping off mid-walk.
Jungkook reluctantly takes the present, ignoring the slight relieved droop of your shoulders and how your warm, soft fingers brushed softly against his.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, his eyes transfixed on the gift.
“Happy birthday, Jungkook. I hope it’ll be everything you wanted and beyond.”
And with that, you turn away, a light spring in your step, your hair moving behind you like a fairy’s wings.
Jungkook doesn’t waste any time after you leave, ripping the gift open in a rush of curiosity, only to freeze, stunned, when a tiny jewellery box is revealed to him. He’s never received any jewellery before, and the fact that it’s a gift from you—a female ‘stranger’, no less—makes his nerve endings prickle with discomfort. The idea of receiving something so personal feels wrong somehow, and yet, despite this strange feeling creeping over him, he still finds himself opening the small red box.
Inside, nestled on an equally red velvet cushion, is a delicate necklace with a pendant that bears his initials. It’s the prettiest necklace he’s ever seen, and the worst part is that he can already picture himself wearing it, the style so perfectly matching his aesthetic that it’s rather unsettling.
He carefully takes the necklace from the box, letting it twist and turn in the sunlight, the metal gleaming ever so mesmerising. But that’s when he notices an engraving on the back of the pendant, and as he peers closer, he fights the urge to rub his eyes.
You’ve had ‘alpha’ engraved onto it. There’s no way anyone could be so bold as to assume another person’s future rank, and yet here you are, making such an assumption about him. Jungkook can’t help but think maybe he was right all along—there’s something strange about you. You’re just a little too perfect, a little too confident in your kindness, a little too bold in your presumptions.
Shaking his head, he lets the necklace fall back into the box, snapping it shut and tossing it carelessly into his locker, fully intending to forget about it sooner or later. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
Saturday night and Sunday come and go in a blur of noise, people, and anticipation. Jungkook has invited practically everyone he knows to his birthday party, hoping that with the arrival of his wolf, his mate might finally be revealed as well. But no one who attends is his mate, and this realisation drags his mood dangerously low. He feels a nagging stab in his chest that he can’t shake, made even heavier by the recurring thought that you, little Miss Perfect, were right all along—Jungkook has become an alpha, just as you predicted. Typical.
What infuriates him even more is that on Monday morning, as you—like always—walk past his locker on your way to the lecture hall, the world seems to slow around him. He watches in disbelief as you suddenly stop, staring at him with wide eyes that shimmer with unshed tears. You look stunned, but more than that, you look happy, as though you’ve just discovered something wonderful. And then, in the midst of his confusion, his inner wolf starts to go wild, barking ‘mate’ over and over again, leaping with excitement inside him.
It should be a moment of joy, a moment where he feels relief and happiness in finally knowing who his mate is. But instead, all Jungkook feels is denial, a desperate refusal to accept the truth, even though, deep down, he knows that you’re everything he ever wanted in a mate.
Still, he turns away from you, ignoring the way your face crumples, the way your bright, hopeful tears turn into ones of sadness, the way you rush past him with your head down, leaving his wolf whimpering in confusion and hurt. Jungkook tries to convince himself that this can’t be real, that it can’t be right, even though every part of him knows it’s exactly what he wanted, what he’s been waiting for.
In the days that follow, he struggles to keep up his usual routine of tormenting you, making snide remarks whenever he gets the chance, but there’s no joy in it anymore. You’re not kind to him the way you used to be, not anymore. You don’t smile at him, don’t even really smile at anyone; instead, you accept his cruelty with a resigned, sad look in your eyes and a forced, brittle smile that never quite reaches your eyes.
Each day, it becomes harder and harder for Jungkook to suppress his wolf, who clearly isn’t on the same page with his cold treatment of you. His wolf growls at him, restless and unhappy, frustrated with the way things are. And Jungkook knows—he understands why—but he feels trapped.
How could he possibly make things right after all he’s done to you? How could he ever redeem himself after letting his bitterness and resentment carry him so far? It doesn’t help that the necklace you gave him is now tucked securely under his shirt, the cool metal pendant resting against his chest, near his heart, multiplying the ache that’s slowly but surely forming there as well. He fiddles with it absentmindedly, the action soothing in a way he can’t explain, though it only makes the guilt grow.
“Jungkook?”
He no longer startles when you appear, his wolf always sensing your presence before you even speak, and your voice has become so quiet, so broken, that it doesn’t have the same effect it once did.
Looking at you now, standing there with your eyes downcast and your voice soft, makes him wish he could take it all back—every harsh word, every petty action. He wishes he could go back and rewrite everything, build something good between you instead of tearing it down. But it’s too late for that, far too late, and he knows it.
When he doesn’t respond, you gather the courage to continue, your voice wavering slightly. “I know it’s random, but I noticed your grades haven’t been as good as they used to be. I know you’re not the kind of person who needs help, but… if there’s anything I can do, just let me know, yeah?”
He wants to snap at you, wants to push you away, but he’s so exhausted—exhausted from pretending he doesn’t care, exhausted from pretending he hates you, and most of all, exhausted from fighting this undeniable bond between you.
Tears prick at his eyes, overwhelming him with guilt, frustration, and something else he can’t quite name. He’s so fed up with himself, so trapped in the mess he’s made that he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t even know where to start.
“Hey… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you say, your voice tinged with panic now as you shift nervously on the spot, your hands reaching out towards him only to pull back, unsure of what to do. “I’m sorry…”
“Stop!” Jungkook yells, and the sound of his own voice surprises him. You flinch, your entire body recoiling as if he’s physically struck you, your trembling hands clasping tightly in front of you.
“I… I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers, and before Jungkook can say anything else, you turn and run, disappearing down the hall, leaving him standing there with the misery of his guilt pressing down harder than ever.
To think it couldn’t get worse was the stupidest thought Jungkook ever had, because it got worse. Not only did his little outburst suffocate him in guilt, but it also made you avoid him every chance you got. It also didn’t help that most people noticed your changed persona, adding one plus one and recognising Jungkook as the culprit.
He doesn’t fault them, doesn’t really mind the insults coming his way, of being heartless for not wanting a mate like you, when he knows they speak the truth. He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve someone who he clearly hurts without a true reason.
And the way his inner wolf retreats now from him too, is something he understands as well, because there’s literally nothing he could do to mend what he’s broken.
It’s one afternoon after classes have just finished, and he’s walking out of the school when he notices you cornered against the wall by some other alphas, three in total. Jungkook’s immediately enraged, and it’s then that his wolf rises to full strength, baring his teeth and growling violently.
You’re clearly uncomfortable, clearly scared of what might happen, especially when one of these alphas gets in your face, giving you no way to escape. The last straw for Jungkook is when one runs his filthy finger along your beautiful face.
“Hey!” Jungkook roars, storming towards the alphas who have now turned to laugh in his face. “Back off.”
“What?! She’s fair game.” One mocks, while you’re still pressed against the wall, but your eyes are hopefully locked onto Jungkook.
“I said back off my mate.”
They do, but only to now lunge at Jungkook, thinking that outnumbering him will shoo him away. But it doesn’t—Jungkook won’t let anyone else touch you, his wolf and himself ready to do anything to protect you. And so, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take each one of them down.
Driven by adrenaline, he doesn’t notice the sting of the hits he couldn’t block, but it’s nothing compared to the urge to protect you with all he has, all he is.
One after the other falls to the floor, while blood trickles from his split lip, knuckles burning and swollen, his chest still heaving, his wolf still angrily jabbing at the air.
“Jungkook?” His eyes snap up to you when you call for him, and he’s relieved to find no repulsion or fear in them when they lock onto him.
“Are you okay?”
“Thank you,” you nod, and his wolf wags his tail, barking mate, deafening all his other senses.
“Good."
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologising?”
You hesitate, and it makes him feel powerless all over again, but eventually you whisper, “Because I’m not who you wanted.”
It’s broken, it’s defeated, and it’s everything he never wanted his mate to say, because it’s not the truth. Never was. Never will be.
“But you are.” Jungkook tries to smile, despite knowing it’s not hopeful or kind, but sad in all the ways his decisions led it to be.
“I am?”
Seeing your eyes gradually returning to their lively, sparkly self is more than he ever wished to witness, more than he ever should receive, but everything he ever wanted.
“You are. Always were.”
And with that, he opens his arms, stepping over the still-groaning alphas to get closer to you.
With a push off the wall, you sprint into Jungkook’s arms, tears of relief running down your cheeks as he embraces you like you wished he would from the start. But it doesn’t matter, because no time apart could ruin the feeling of him embracing you and your bond.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, inhaling the magnificent scent of you.
“It’s fine, everything’s fine.”
And as you cling to him, your wolves finally as content as you are, you know that you’d never change a thing, because it’s better to be loved willingly than with no other choice.
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hisui-dreamer · 9 months ago
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Hihi Rinna! Saw the cool event and I would like to request a bouquet ⁠\⁠(⁠・⁠◡⁠・⁠)⁠/ daffodils, rhododendrons and a few cherry blossoms, please send it to Lilia, Jamil and Jade!
everlasting mementos
Characters: Lilia, Jamil and Jade
Synopsis: you've left twisted wonderland, leaving behind a simple bouquet of flowers for him as a parting gift
Tags: heavy angst (disco wants suffering y'all), no happy endings, bad vibes all around, farewells
Word count: 976
Notes: hooboy this one was depressing ヘ⁠(⁠。⁠□⁠°⁠)⁠ヘ hope you enjoy the pain!!
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flowers of choice:
daffodils: please don't forget me
rhododendrons: red ones symbolise tremendous grief
cherry blossoms: scattering, fleeting moments
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Lilia casts a spell on your flowers to make them everlasting, keeping them by his bedside table his gaze is always drawn to it every time he walks into his room, and he’s reminded of all the memories you’ve shared together
he’s become used to saying farewells, having gone through the pain of losing his dearest friends and countless comrades in the war
he’s long learned that life will always move on, and whether or not you move along with it isn't a choice you get to choose
tries to act as normal, but everyone can tell he’s not energetic as usual
silver and malleus offer to spend more time with him so he won’t feel too lonely, and sebek even watches his mouth to not accidentally upset him
he’s incredibly grateful to everyone for being so considerate, but there’s no stopping the dull ache in his heart
every time he’s in the kitchen, he hears your panicking voice echoing in his ears, scolding him for another misdemeanour
or your squeals of surprise when he pops down from the ceiling to give you a kiss
you've really left a mark on this old fae...
Lilia tenderly caressed the flowers, tears welled in his eyes, tracing silent paths down his cheeks. He knew his time with you was limited, that you would always go back to your world and never return. He knew that nothing would last forever, but he just hoped he could have spent a little more time without you.
"How foolish am I...," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with sorrow. "To dare to hope for a different ending. One without goodbyes."
Amidst the flickering candlelight, he found himself enveloped in memories of your presence. "The world feels so much dimmer without you," he confessed, his words laden with longing and regret.
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Jamil wanted to throw out the flowers but he couldn't bear parting with the last thing you left behind for him
he ends up turning them into pressed flowers, making a tiny pendant with them so he can keep you close always
Jamil, like he's done most of his life, decides to bottle up his feelings and go about his day as usual
but everyone in scarabia can tell he's snappier and a lot more tense than usual
even kalim, who's been trying his best not to upset or trouble jamil
on late nights, when he's all alone with his thoughts, he pulls up your old voice recordings, unable to fight the urge to hear your voice
he replays them tirelessly until every sentence is etched into his memory
the comfort they once provided now only serves to amplify his frustration, a mere reminder of your absence
he had resigned himself to a life in the shadows, but then you came into his life and for the first time in forever he let himself hope for a brighter future but now...
he wants to be mad at you for giving him this false hope, but he can't even stand the thought of being mad at you, he's just mad that he let himself hope again
still, he doesn't regret a single second he spent with you
The sound of your voice from the recording dwindled into the hushed night, and with it, the floodgates of his emotions burst open, and he collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down his face.
"It's not enough," he whispered between sobs, clutching the device tightly in his trembling hands. "Just hearing your voice... it's not enough."
He yearned to see your smile, to feel your warmth beside him once again. "You gave me so much hope," he choked out, his voice breaking with emotion. "That maybe, just maybe, we could have been happy."
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Jade keeps the bouquet of flowers you gave him, propagating them so they'll always thrive by his side, making sure to care for them so he'll always have the last gift you give him
each time he tends to them, he talks to them as if they're you, telling them about his day, what shenanigans floyd has gotten into, how well his mushrooms have been growing...
he never leaves without wishing for your happiness, because that thought eases the ache in his heart slightly
on the outside, he acts unaffected and you really wouldn't be able to tell he's upset at all
but floyd and azul can tell, it's clear as day to them just how devastated he is
azul lets him have more free time, cutting his shifts shorter so he can go on hikes or take care of his terrariums, any activities to cheer him up
but even those activities fail to lighten his mood, because he's constantly reminded of his memories with you
him taking care of your wound after you'd tripped and injured your knee, you excited to show him the new mushroom dish you've been working on, the subtle stares and smiles the two of you exchanged at school...
there are traces of you littering every corner of his heart...
As Jade passed by a familiar hiking spot, the very place where countless moments were shared between the two of you, bittersweet memories flooded his mind. He sank to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggled to catch his breath.
How was it possible that you were only in his life for a short period, yet your absence felt unbearable? How had you managed to leave such a profound impact on him, with every little thing now serving as a painful reminder of your absence?
"I just... wish to see you again..." he whispered to the empty trail, his voice choked with sorrow. "What can I do... to make this feeling go away?"
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awniie · 9 months ago
Text
HELLO KITTY
ㅤㅤㅤ⭑ summary: sukuna breaks your favorite stuffed animal
content: fem!reader, pathetic attempt at fluff n angst , reader cries when he breaks the stuffie, mean!sukuna-ish, readers gets called a baby (derogatory), reader is called small, modern au, implied sex, proofread to an extent
ㅤㅤㅤ⭑ notes: I’m not sure what compelled me to write this, like at all !! also I tried not to refer to him as a boyfriend in this cus I don’t see him as one :sob:
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“what..is that?” Sukuna asked as he entered the room. He was talking about the little cat toy you were snuggling with. You held it tightly against your chest, the blue light of your phone casting onto the dolls white cotton covering.
“Oh her? It’s hello kitty!” You exclaimed, quite proudly for a grown woman with a cat doll between her chest. You shut off your phone and roll over to show him the toy. Sukuna snatched it from off your body and inspected the…thing. It was white and fuzzy with black sewn eyes and a matching butter-colored nose. As if that wasn’t trivial enough, the toy wore a tiny little pair of overalls and a small pink bow ontop its ear. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, It was the epitome of naivety and childishness, and it made him sick. Curiously, He tested the elasticity of the toy, pulling and stretching her limbs in awful ways.
“Kuna, be careful! You’ll break her.” You warned, arms reaching for your poor kitty. You quickly remembered why you were hesitant to show him the doll earlier, that your hello kitty was small and delicate and sukuna was quite the opposite, and now your worst fears coming true. Your protests fell on ignorant ears, and the sickening sound of ripping fabric filled them instead. Scratchy white poly-fil spewed in the air. Your boyfriend stood in front of you, a look of mild surprise played on his features as he held the now-headless hello kitty.
“Huh.” he murmured before throwing it on the floor sending more fluff scattered across the room.
“Sukuna! What is wrong with you?” You accused, rushing over to where your beheaded kitty laid. He couldn’t believe how quick you left off the bed, cradling the ripped doll in your hands.
“It’s not my fault it was made so cheaply. Plus, you too old to be playing with dolls anyway.” He said, quickly disregarding the whole thing.
“No! That was my hello kitty, you had no right to break it.” You told him between sniffles, holding the two pieces of your hello kitty in each of your palms. Warm tears ran down your cheeks and your nose reddened.
“Do you see yourself right now? You’re acting like a fucking baby.” Sukuna retorted, annoyed at your reaction. He honestly didn’t mean to break it, but what’s done is done and you were a fool for thinking that lashing out at him could change that. “It’s just a child’s toy, get over it.”
“You are sick. I hate you!” You yelled, holding the pieces of your broken toy close and leaving the room, not before slamming the door with teeth-rattling force.
Sukuna sighed and rolled his eyes. He didn’t expect you to get so animated over a cartoon cat replica, but then again human emotions were much more sporadic and quite frankly annoying. He gave your outburst no more than another thought. He knew you well enough to know you’d be back soon, crying and whining and begging him to talk to you and give you some attention. He’d just have to patient until your came your to senses..
..Or at least that’s what he thought. Your boyfriend seemly underestimated your ability to hold a grudge. You hadn’t truly spoken to him in 3 days, the most he’s gotten out of you being “uh huh” or “no”. He pretended your coldness didn’t bother him, but it did. A lot more then it should’ve. The pointed shoulder-checks, the refusal to make any eye contact, leaving the room whenever he walked in. It really bothered him. He knew that the only way to get back your favor was with probably some form of atonement. But, he has his own pride to worry about and he refused to be the one to grovel at your feet and apologize. No it would be you. He was Sukuna Ryomen and he would not bend to the will of a foolish mortal girl.
But, a week without speaking to your other can be unbearable, even for a callous curse such as Sukuna. After being with you so long, he found himself having a sort longing for you. Why would he though? He didn’t need anyone, especially not you. If anything, you needed him…so why weren’t you acting like it?
Even though you were mad at him, outwardly you seemed fine. You were doing everything on your own, pretending as if this giant curse of a man didn’t even exist. You still laughed at stuff on your phone, you still ate your favorite foods and enjoyed yourself, while Sukuna clearly wasn’t.
He hated the silence that he had grown unfamiliar with after being with you. You seemed to never shut up before, but now? Sukuna found himself longing for your annoying voice and pestilential chattiness.
He missed your body. He missed your delicate fingers that you would intertwine with his rough, pointed ones whenever you went to the store with him. He’d express so many times that he didn’t like you doing that and he’d “cut your fingers off” if you did it again. But you always did, and it never happened.
He hated the absence of your warmth. He had become so accustomed to your late night snuggling, he had trouble sleeping without it. One particular lonesome night, he watched you sleep from the door you always left slightly cracked. He longed to be next to you, to feel your faint breath tickling his neck, to run his hands down the curve of your spine, to have your sleep-mucked face be the first thing he sees in the morning.
So, that’s why he was now on the couch, hissing and cursing as he attempted to put the stitch through the tiny hole of the needle. He was trying to sew your god-damned hello kitty back together, which proved to be a much harder task than he thought initially. Sukuna had watched you do it many times, stitching whatever article of clothing he had ripped off of you the night before. You made it look simple, and of course you were just a little human. Nothing you did would take much skill, right?
“Fuck!” He hissed through clenched teeth and he stabbed the pin through the pad of his finger. A bead of dark-red blood swole and eventually dripped down his finger. Watching the blood drop made him think of you. You would’ve taken his tattooed hand and cooed at the injury, leaving a kiss on the stabbed finger. He always thought you were stupid for making such a display over a little nick, but now? He felt some sort of…emptiness without your comfort. Sukuna quickly chased those thoughts away, telling himself that he was only doing this for his own benefit, not for you. No, he’d never do something like this for you.
-
“Kuna…?” You called, the moniker sounding foreign on your tongue after a long week of ignoring the man to whom it belonged too. His head quickly snapped as he watched you come into the room, treading lightly as if the tension could break with a footstep too heavy. In your arms was the patched up doll, looking a little limp but still in one piece.
“What do you want?” He asked, his tone glacial, suggesting that he didn’t care. But he knew he cared a lot, a lot more than he should’ve.
Just a few minutes ago, Sukuna creeped into the bedroom, ensuring sure you wouldn’t hear him over the sound of a running shower. Afte the coast was clear, he meticulously placed the doll on your bed, propped up on a pillow, the hello kitty freshly washed and sewn. He relished on his work, shoving away the feeling of…anxiety? Then he waited and waited for you, hurrying back to his place on the couch only when he heard the shower faucet stop running.
“Did you…fix my doll?” You asked, leaving the question hanging in the heavy air. You avoided eye contact as you sat across from him, fiddling with the hello kitty’s stubby arms.
“What does it look like? It’s fixed, isn’t it?” He retorts, gesturing to the crude stitches that encircled that dolls neck. He sounded pissed off, but he was far from it. He missed your voice, even if you were wasting it by asking him stupid questions.
“Oh,” was all you were able to say. Sukuna rolled his eyes, mimicking your “oh”.
You stumbled with your speech, trying to find the right response. In all honesty, you were shocked. “T-Thank you.” You murmured, your voice a little louder now.
“yeah, whatever. Now you have your doll, so you can stop your damn sulking.” He muttered, waving his hand in dismal. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, careful not to break the delicate silence.
Warmth bloomed inside of your chest. Yeah the stitching was clusmy, revealing his lack of delicacy, but somehow it felt better than him buying a new stuffed animal. There was something that was almost thoughtful about it, and sukuna ryomen was anything but the sort.
He couldn’t believe himself either. Had he really done that, for you? It was impossible. He could’ve easily forced you to speak to him, or lashed out at you for being a brat. So why didn’t he? He sat there, waiting for the repercussions of his actions to hit him. Disgust. anger. anything. but strangely, it never came. Instead he felt a sense of relief and lets out a breath he had no idea he had been holding.
You then slipped into his arms, your ear resting against his surprisedly-existent heartbeat. The hello kitty was still in your grasp, and you fiddled into between your two hands. He didn’t say anything, because he wasn’t even sure that words would come out of his mouth. You felt so nice on him again, and he placing his around you, never wanting to let you go.
As the two of you laid there, distressing fact came crashing down on him. You had broke him. You contorted his barbarous heart into ways that no stich could fix.
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drvscarlett · 2 months ago
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About You Pt 16
Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader
Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.
A/N: this is rollercoaster ride is about to reach its end, only 4 more to go. i wanna thank everyone for reading this. let me know what you think about this one!!
About You Series
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2013, Winter break (December)
The idea of having a kid seems unreal for Sebastian. He never thought much about it before since he thinks its still something for the distant future. Yet here he is now only a few weeks away from the birth of his daughter.
Having a daughter scares him a lot. No number of self-help books or even a parent’s advice could give him a guide to how to raise a kid well. He has seen how nasty boys could be and he will be damned if they approach his daughter. It was funny that he is already so protective and filled with love for someone that he hasn't met yet.
Sebastian shakes his thoughts away as he focuses on painting the walls of the nursery.
He had been making use of the winter break to renovate this new place that he bought in Switzerland. Ever since the season ended, he had been in contact with Hanna about how to do this whole thing. Sebastian was the first to suggest to buy a house that could provide privacy for the kid. He didn't want her face to be scattered across the news or be hounded by photographers hence why he opted for Switzerland.
Hanna was not due to go there until the week before Christmas so here he was nesting the place. He had babyproofed every corner and he bought some furnitures that the baby might need. It was honestly a lot of heavy lifting and tinkering but Sebastian is slowly making a home out of this place.
The buzz of his phone interrupts him and he places his brush down. He confusedly answer the call upon seeing the caller ID.
"Mark? What's up?" Sebastian didn't know if Mark misdialled him or maybe Mark knew the things that happened. He prayed his best that this must be a misdial "Do you need anything?"
"I have been trying to message you for hours, where are you?" Mark sounds exasperated at the other line.
"I'm sorry, I’m here in the swiss alps busy painting the walls and picking up stuffs" Sebastian sheepishly admits.
There was a silence at the other end of the line. A hesitation from Mark's end to break the news to him. He hears a heavy sigh from the Australian.
"So you have no idea what is going on?" Mark asked.
"You sound like something bad happened”
“I need you to get to the winter vacation home of the Schumacher” Mark ordered “Something terrible happened to Michael and the kids are left there with Y/N. Corinna went to accompany Michael and now the kids as well Y/N are being harassed by the media for questioning”
“I’ll be there”
His hands were quick to get his car keys and he was off driving to their location. He knew that the last time that he saw Y/N he promised to give her space. However, this situation calls for something different. He has to help her even just for Mick and Gina’s sake.
He drove as quick as he legally can to the Schumacher vacation house. It was a good idea that he was just about 20 minutes away from them because the scene in front of him is catastrophic. The view of reporters with their cameras and their phones crowded the window and the door. It was a suffocating sight to see. Sebastian could only be livid at the amount of ruckus that these so called journalist are causing additional emotional stress of the kids right now.
“Get away, get the fuck away” Sebastian announced as he parked his car.
The attention immediately shifted to the Red Bull driver. These media have no sense of privacy or whatsoever and it irritated him to the core.
“Sebastian, any comments about Michael? Is he okay? Is he in critical condition?”
“What do you think would happen to Michael?”
“Is there any news or updates about Michael?”
“Just please back away and let us have some privacy for the family. “Sebastian shouted, warding them off “You are scaring the children. Get your shit out of here”
Some reporters scattered away after seeing the temper of Sebastian. Others were still staying. Sebastian made his way to the front door by typing the code and he prayed it was still the usual. The moment that it beeps open, he hurriedly went in and slammed it shut before the reporters could get a scoop of what’s happening inside.
“Seb!” Mick was quick to run to greet him “I swore I heard your voice and you're here”
The little Schumacher was immediately latched to him. Sebastian gave him a comforting hug upon realizing that Mick was hiding his face and starting to cry. He couldn’t put into words how long Mick would have been holding those tears to be shaking in tears right now.
“It all happened so fast and I couldn’t do anything.. And then these reporters came out and they were crowding everywhere”Mick continued to explain.
“It’s alright, I’m here buddy. No one’s going to hurt you”
“Y/N said Mama and Papa arrived at the hospital but Papa is not yet awake” Mick recounts “I ‘m scared because what if Papa never wakes up or what if Papa wakes up and he has no memories of us?”
“Your papa will be alright buddy”Sebastian assures.
He has seen Michael survive so long in a dangerous sports, surely this simple accident won’t bring him down. Sebastian understood how shocking the whole experience can be for the kids and so he just allow Mick to be held for a few minutes more.
“Mick, I hate to do this but I think we have to go and change your location”Sebastian pointed out “There are reporters outside your home and they won't go away. I’ll help you move into a more quiet place, is that alright?”
The sniffling Mick nodded in understanding.
“Where’s Gina and Y/N? We have to go get them”Sebastian asked
“They’re in the bedroom. Y/N has been trying to calm Gina down and I think Gina fell asleep”
Mick lead the way and carefully opened the bedroom door of Gina. There Gina was sleeping soundly on the bed as Y/N was waiting on her cellphone. The two of them seems to be crying for hours already judging by the messy state that they are in.
“Seb, you’re here”a soft acknowledgement by Y/N.
“Mark called and I couldn’t leave you three by yourself” Sebastian explained “Can you pack a bag and we can go somewhere more safe?”
The female Webber nodded. It was a good thing that they haven’t unpacked a lot yet since they just arrived yesterday morning. They can easily pick up the stuffs that they brought so they won’t waste any more time.
“Good. Let’s get some jackets to cover the face of Mick and Gina” Sebastian instructed “The media out there are like hyenas waiting to get a statement”
“I’ll handle that but Gina just slept..”Y/N replied,
“I’ll carry Gina and cover her with the jacket. You and Mick should go together”Sebastian offered.
The three launched into their plan. Sebastian leads the way with a sleeping Gina on his arms. Mick was holding Y/N’s hands tightly as he kept his head down with the oversized jacket covering his whole face. His other hand was holding Sebastian’s jacket. Y/N carried the bags.
The moment the door opened, the media could not stop their flashing lights and questions. Sebastian did his best to navigate his way back to his car. He could feel Mick’s hold getting tighther as the intrusive questions continue.
Thankfully, they made their way back to the car and Sebastian managed to drive as far as possible from those pesky media.
“Everyone good?” Sebastian checked
“Yeah”Mick answered “Can’t believe Gina is still asleep with all the ruckus”
“You’re sister can sleep anywhere because her lullaby used to be those loud F1 cars”Y/N managed to joke.
From the mirror, Mick cracked a smile. It was something rare for today and the two adults felt at ease to see him smile. It didn’t take him a long time before Mick joined his sister and dozed off. The poor kid must have been extremely exhausted with everything that happened.
 Sebastian went back to focusing on driving back home when he noticed Y/N twisting her necklace. It was unmistakable that it was the same necklace that he gifted her all those years ago. He could never forget the meaning of why Y/N continuously touch or twist that necklace.
“You don’t have to worry Y/N, everything will be alright” Sebastian comforts.
A heavy sigh escapes her lips. Sebastian knew that this was as difficult for Y/N as it had been for the kids. Y/N has always been like an honorary Schumacher especially when Mark was not on speaking terms to her. This is incredibly tough on her to stay behind and be a strong figure for the kids.
“Corinna just sounded so broken when I talked to her and I’m just scared to want to know the truth” Y/N confessed “I don’t know how much longer I could stay strong for Mick and Gina”
Sebastian pulled the car over once Y/N starts crying. He cannot focus on driving knowing that she is by his side and in tears. He gave her tissues and allowed her to cry.
“Michael will pull through. He is tough anf strong”Sebastian reassured “You have to be strong because Corinna will be looking at you for support. Gina and Mick also looks up a lot to you”
If this was old times, he would have held her at this moment. He would have assured her as he gives her a comforting shoulder to cry on.
“Can I hold you?” He hoped for a positive answer but he didn’t want to overstep boundaries. He has already been overstepping with the way that he appeared when they agreed that they should figure things out for the moment.
And it surprised him when Y/N reached out to embrace him. The silent tears were muffled by how tight Y/N have been embracing him. He just lets her and he prays that things would be alright.
2014, Winter break (January)
The fireworks outside boasted different colors in the night sky. Sebastian assumes that it was quite a distance away from his home because the sounds of the fireworks and the celebrations weren't too loud. He hums with his cup of hot chocolate as he watches the magnificent display at his window.
"Seb?" Hanna waddled in. With a few weeks to go, she was having a lot more difficulty walking around the house "I heard some noises"
"Its New Year" Sebastian gestured at the firework display.
The pregnant woman muttered a small "oh". She must have lost track of times thats why she forgot that it was a new year.
"Happy new year then Seb." she greets "Hope you have a great one"
"Happy new year hanna"
"I'm gonna go and rest but if you want some company for the new year then I can—"
Sebastian shakes his head sideways. He knew that it was difficult for Hanna to walk a lot these days and staying up late might be bad for the baby.
"You go on and rest, have a great night Hanna"
Sebastian watched as Hanna retreated back to her room. Once she was gone,his gaze returned to the view outside. He reminisces the things that happened in 2013 and who would have thought that this is how he ends up in the following year. There were plenty of things, good and bad,that forever turned his life a whole 360.
He can't help but plague his thoughts of Y/N. This time last year,they shared New Years eve together with the Vettel household. He was holding champagne instead of hot cocoa. He was still sharing dreams of a future with Y/N.
There were plenty of questions of what this year may hold to their relationship. Sebastian would like to be a positive thinker and assume that they will work this out. However,he isnt sure if it will be that easy for them to overcome. He knew his priorities would also change with his daughter.
Speak of the devil. Her name appeared brightly on his phone screen. It was a photo of them on Christmas when he confessed. The bright smiles on their faces was perfectly captured.
"Hello?"Sebastian picked up the call.
There was giggling at the other end, an obvious sign that the girl was drunk.
"I am here and im up and about hehe”
"Jesus are you drunk? Where are you?"Sebastian asked.
He was worried. Y/N was not the type of person to drink excessively, she always know her limits. Sebastian wondered if she was somewhere safe or how would she be able to get home? Was she with friends or not?
"I ammmm perfectly safe hereee in my home"Y/N slurred.
A breath of relief for Sebastian "You're by yourself?"
"Yuppp,drank two bottles of this chocolate whiskey cream thing"
Sebastian smiles at their parallelism. Even now they are still matching with their drinks, of course. The only difference Seb has the non-alcoholic version while she has the alcoholic kinds. Its weird how they seem connected even if they are not speaking to each other a lot.
"Its just so fucking difficult. Its like a shitstorm man. Like is God testing me to be his strongest shoulder because I swear I am one event being a sacrificial lamb. Just take meeee. Take meee"
There goes Sebastian's theory. Y/N would never drink not unless she has unsaid feelings. It was her way to copenwith the things she bottled in. Sebastian sits in the couch as he listens to her rants.
"First was that horrific Multi 21. Made my life shittyyyy. Second, Michael. Fuck that brain trauma is traumatizing even the children. GOD WHY IS IT UNFAIR"
All that Sebastian wanted to do was be by her side and comfort her. She was breaking down and Sebastian is helpless on the other side of the phone. He is miles away and he can’t just leave Hanna by herself. It was a complicated situation—a common occurrence to describe them these days.
“And then I lost you.. I think that sucks the most because I think I can deal with everything but then why do I have to lose you too? I know this sounds selfish but I never wanted you to go and I wanted to work this out but fuck I’ll be so selfish to deprive your child of a father. My conscience can’t handle that”
“You didn’t lose me, we’re still working this out” Sebastian reasons out “I told you I will prove myself to you right? I told you I will come back as someone worthy of you”
It was that promise that keeps Sebastian steady on his feet. He was doing his best to figure out his life and to take on this new responsibility. He made it a point that his child and Y/N will always feel like a priority, people who will always feel loved by him.
“Will this year be better seb?”
“I hope it will be” Sebastian was wistful “It’s a start of new year, anything could happen”
The skies darkened once more as the embers of the fireworks disappeared. It was only the moon out there together with the stars sprinkled like specks of dust. Sebastian remembered that old childhood tale that if he wishes on the right star then his wish would come true. Hopefully the right star guides his wish today.
2014, Silverstone Circuit
The sun was up but the weather was a bit chilly for the second day of testing. Undoubtedly, this was a good weather to see the car go around the circuit. Y/N has already found her place somewhere outside the McLaren motorhome. She have been watching the cars and familiarizing herself with the new drivers on the grid.
It didn’t take long for her to enjoy her alone time because some drivers were sneaking up on her.
“Mind if we join you?” Jenson made his presence known. He was joined in by Nico and Lewis “You look like you have a good view of the whole testing”
“I can’t shoo you away even if I tried” Y/N replied
“We know”
The drivers settled down next to her. It felt comfortable to be around the McLaren-Mercedes trio. With Mark leaving the grid, she had to admit that these three have been putting an extra effort to include her in whatever they do ever since the testing season started. It was quite wholesome for them to do that.
“How’s the car?” Y/N asked
“Could be better” Jenson shrugged “It’s kind of basic but I hope we can add something to it before Bahrain”
“But were alright with ours. It’s a car that can compete” Lewis pointed out. Nico was nodding his head in agreement “I think we may have a chance against Red Bull this year”
“You always say that every year”Jenson complains.
“Uh huh but this year is finally that year”Lewis proclaimed.
The new regulations were also starting this year and Y/N could tell that there might be a couple of shift. Besides that, there is a new Red Bull driver and no one really knows if the kid will settle to be a 2nd driver or would challenge Sebastian.
Their attention went back to the circuit. They exchanged some oohs and aahs as they hear the car pass by. However in their mind they were all assessing whats the real speed of every car or how good is the driver behind the wheel.
“That’s Daniel Ricciardo”Nico watched as the Red Bull with a shiny number 3 passed them by “The kid is going to be eaten alive by Seb”
“Yeah, I remember how often he DNFed last season. It’s a crazy gamble to put him in the Red Bull seat” Lewis agreed.
Jenson looks slightly pissed by the mention of Sebastian’s name. He wasn’t done with what Sebastian did to Y/N. Even if Y/N have tried to reason out that she will give Sebastian a chance, Jenson was not included in the forgiving Sebastian party.
“Ricciardo had a bad car last year but this year he has the same equipment as Sebastian so maybe give the kid a chance to do something great”Jenson boldly speaks.
“Jenson” a warning from Y/N. There was no need for anyone to know that they have a bad blood with one another. It was an incoming headache for Y/N if Jenson keeps this attitude for the entire season.
The two Mercedes driver looked at the situation in front of them with raised eyebrows. They have heard about the rumored altercations between Sebastian and Jenson in COTA but they were never able to find the perfect timing to ask them what’s that about. It seems like they are just granted an opportunity to ask about it.
“Sooooooooo, that’s a lot of anger for Seb” Nico tiptoed about the topic “Any particular reason why you aren’t in good terms?”
“He is an asshole” was the quick remark of Jenson.
Lewis nudged Y/N as if asking her to elaborate further. Y/N just sighed because she would rather bury herself in a hole than tell the story.
“It’s nothing, its just a minor hiccup for me and Seb”Y/N downplayed.
“Wait hold on, what is this hiccup?”
“Yeah, how long have we been out of loop?”
Jenson took it as a go signal to tell the whole story. It was crazy to see how Lewis and Nico’s reaction started to take different turns. Where Lewis was mad, Nico was getting teary eyed from the whole thing.
“And that’s why I’m still trying to convince Y/N that Sebastian is an asshole” Jenson concluded.
“Damn right she should” Lewis was quick to agree. Jenson gives him a high five because finally someone was on his side and maybe Lewis could help him convince Y/N that giving Sebastian a chance is a bad decision.
“But I think this isn’t something that Sebastian intended”Nico rebutted “He said it himself this was a one time thing and he was drunk”
“Drunk or not, you should never cheat”Lewis fought back.
“You are not thinking this through Lewis”
The sounds were drowned once more by the bickering by the two Mercedes drivers. For Y/N, it was like the battling voices inside her head have been personified by them. She had been doing her best to avoid these types of confrontation especially when there is the Schumacher family that needs her a lot. However, now that she is back at the F1 garages and the races will start soon, she can’t really escape the whole thing.
Jenson moves closer to Y/N. He opted to ignore the fighting duo as well, even if he was the reason for the argument in the first place. Jenson knows that when Lewis and Nico starts arguing then it will take a really long while before they settle anything in peace.
“You haven’t eaten anything yet”Jenson was worried. He knew she was missing from the garages since breakfast and now its nearing 2 in the afternoon but she didn’t have a bite of anything yet. “I sneaked out something for you”
A shiny red apple appeared out of the pockets of his hoodie. It made Y/N smile for the sweet gesture. Although, her mind seems to be playing a déjà vu at her when she remembered how oranges were her favorite fruit, and a certain driver would often give it to her.
If her smile faltered, Jenson didn’t notice with her gracious acceptance of the apple.
 “Thanks J,  you are an angel”
But Y/N never took a bite of the apple. It just rested in her hands, and they continued to watch the cars going around.
2014, Albert Park
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Vettel warns against people invading the privacy of the Schumacher family and friends
In the first media of this season, Sebastian Vettel has made it clear that questions about Michael Schumacher will not be entertained. This comes to light after several media has ambushed interview, Y/N Webber, the assistant of Jenson Button, as soon as she arrives at the paddock. During the process, some media have harmed Y/N to stop her for questions. Y/N was the only person, outside of the Schumacher family, that has been present during the accident.
Sebastian has been very strict that the instructions from the Schumacher family were clear that they wanted privacy for the moment. He said that those who will still be pressing for questions will be instantly banned from the paddock. Jenson Button shared the same sentiments, he warned that he will not tolerate this kind of behavior and will sue those who will attempt to do this again. This has received agreements from Jules Bianchi, Nico Rosberg, and Fernando Alonso. The drivers have stated how the media has been quite tactless and did not care for the well-being of the people that they are ambushing.
There are still no news in regards to the update about Michael Schumacher's health. If there are news, the paddock is quiet about it. It is everyone's best hope that Michael is recovering from that horrific accident.
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Mark Webber makes a surprise comeback at the paddock.
Hours before free practice started, the former Red Bull driver, returns to the paddock. However, this time around, he is just a casual watcher on the sidelines as he has already hung up the race suits for the 2014 season.
What makes the comeback surprising is when asked who invited him, the Australian said that he was there as a guest of Sebastian Vettel. Surely, after all the drama from the infamous Multi 21 incident, everyone can't believe that they seem close as buddies now. Mark couldn't help but agree because he was just as shocked when Sebastian called him.
"I really appreciate that Sebastian is a good person and decides to place our difference aside. I was very worried for my sister when I heard what happened to her yesterday. Seb was quick to help me reach her and assures me that she is taken care of."
2014, Sepang International Circuit
"You are a tough man to find Vettel"
All that Sebastian was to have a night for himself and get some rest at his hotel room yet Jenson Button stans before him. It seems like the universe has other plans for him tonight. With the jetlag, Sebastian was in no mood to dodge a punch.
"Can we just talk about this tomorrow? I just arrived and I want to catch some sleep"Sebastian tried to reason out.
Jenson placed a hand in front of his chest, "I just need a quick word with you and then I'll leave"
"What do you want?"
"Mark told me what you did."Jenson started "He told me that you told him everything that you did. You asked for his forgiveness. You let him punch you. You even confessed how hopelessly in love with Y/N"
Even Sebastian was surprised by his actions. Years ago, he vehemently denied that he has any romantic feelings for Y/N in front of Mark and their team principal. Now, he was ready to admit the truth. Maybe it was a helpful factor that Mark is retired and can no longer kill him in the circuit.
"Yeah and what about it?"
"Is this some kind of strategy or some trick? What are you playing at?" Jenson questioned. His tone was a warning to Sebastian that if he is trying any games then Jenson wouldn't mind a repeat of COTA last year.
"There is no game here. I'm just being honest" Sebastian admits.
"Bullshit"
The hotel lobby was quite empty and quiet. There were no one who got curious by the rising voice of the McLaren driver. Sebastian placed his bags down to explain himself.
"I get that you don't trust me and I know how much you hate me for what I did to Y/N. But I am doing my best to show her that I'll be a better person and a person who is worthy of her. If I have to crawl to hell and back for the Webber's forgiveness before being able to court her then so be it. I know that I made a mistake and this is me owning up to it. I want to be a better person because I don't know what she sees in me but she still gave me a chance. She deserves better and I'm trying to do that"
The intense gaze between the two of them prevailed.
Jenson was assessing how much bullshit was said by Sebastian however he could see how much genuine Sebastian is. After all, Mark has sent him here to verify if Sebastian is fooling around or if he is serious about Y/N. Jenson could hate Sebastian all he wants but it doesn't change the fact that Sebastian truly loves Y/N.
"Okay, I'm leaving now"Jenson curtly ended the conversation.
There was nothing left for him to say. Even if he wanted to punch Sebastian, his job is done and now he has to inform Mark that Sebastian is dead serious and most of all fully in love.
He could just miserably laugh as he realized his heart has taken another wound that could never be healed.
2014, Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya
Martin Brundle was walking down the grid as per usual. He was looking for someone to interview today since there was still a few hours before the race starts. The garages were filled with mechanics rolling around equipment and some VIP celebrities who are keeping their head low.
The thought of the current leader, Lewis Hamilton pops in his mind but the Mercedes driver is nowhere to be found. Martin thinks about a driver to interview when he collides with a driver in a racer suit.
"Oh sorry Martin, I didn't see you there" Sebastian apologizes. The Red Bull driver was focused on peelung the orange that he has in his hand that he wasn't looking on his pathway.
"Seb could we have a quick word for you for Grid Walk?" Martin knew that opportunities like this shouldn't be taken for granted. He was asking for someone to interview and then the Gods made him collide with last year's world champion, Sebastian Vettel.
The German driver seems to be in a hurry but he was not someone that turns down Martin, "sure, go on and ask"
The cameras have been quick to work and recenter the two of them into the frame. Sebastian grinned at the camera as he holds the microphone with his free hand.
"So what do you think of people saying that you have been in a drought for wins?" Martin asked.
It was something that may get on the nerves of the driver but Martin asked questions that people wants to know. However, the Red Bull driver just smiles and there were no ill show of feelings.
"I'm still competing and I still get my podiums. I just need to work better and we're doing our best to get better"Sebastian answered.
"You seem like a change man. You used to be so mad when you don't win"
"I still am Martin" Sebastian chuckles "However, I don't beat myself a lot as I used to. I tend to be happier and focus on what's important in my life"
"And that important thing would be?"
Now there was a coy smile for Sebastian. It was the usual teasing antics that the media has been used to, "Well that is for me to know and you to find out Martin"
"Appreciate you being here today Sebastian"Martin concludes "Sebastian Vettel everybody"
"Cheers Martin"
The cameras stopped rolling and Sebastian was quick to run to where he was going.
Martin noticed how Sebastian made a beeline towards the McLaren garage, where someone embraced him. He was usually good recognizing faces in the paddock but the woman was shielded away from the view of everybody. In Martin's thoughts, this was a clear indication that Sebastian was keeping this relationship private.
But it was clear that this woman is someone important for Sebastian to trespass garages for. Martin didn't miss how Sebastian handed the peeled oranges to her. It didn't take a lot for Martin to realize that this was the important thing that Sebastian was talking about.
"What a young love for the world champion" Martin muttered under his breath.
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hiitsm · 6 months ago
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Beneath the Surface: The Third Piece
Beneath the Surface is for 18+ only.
Angst & if you squint your eyes: Smut, is included in this Third Piece.
Note: a little bit earlier as expected. Work is heavy and I feel like tomorrow I'll be sleeping a lot 😅
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Other parts of: Beneath the Surface: The Broken Heart Pieces
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You find yourself in the bustling back of the restaurant, surrounded by the clatter of dishes and the rush of water as you diligently tackle the never-ending pile of plates. Despite the chaos, there's a sense of familiarity and comfort in the routine of it all. This small breakfast and lunch spot has been your second home for over three years now, a cozy haven where you've honed your skills as a waitress.
But lately, things have felt different.
Ever since that fateful day when you discovered the letter on your kitchen counter, everything has been tinged with a sense of unease. The possibility of encountering her hangs over you like a heavy cloud, casting a shadow over your once-beloved job.
You've made the difficult decision to retreat to the kitchen, away from the front-of-house hustle and bustle, in a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the pain of potential encounters. It's a bittersweet compromise, trading the joy of serving customers for the safety of anonymity.
As you scrub at a stubborn stain on a plate, your thoughts drift to Alexia. You wonder if she'll ever walk through those doors again, if she'll ever reach out to you. A part of you longs for the chance to talk, to seek closure, to understand why she left without a word.
But another part of you recoils at the thought, wary of reopening old wounds and risking further heartache.
You've confided in a sympathetic colleague, asking them to alert you if Alexia ever stops by. It's a small comfort, a glimmer of hope in an otherwise tumultuous sea of emotions.
Yet, deep down, you know that even if she does come, you may not have the courage to face her. The pain is still too raw, the wounds too fresh.
In the midst of your internal turmoil, a sudden clatter shatters the silence, drawing your attention to the floor where a plate lies shattered, broken into jagged pieces.
You can't help but see a reflection of your own broken heart in those shards, scattered and fragmented, waiting to be carefully pieced back together.
As you crouch down to begin the painstaking task of gathering the shattered fragments, you're acutely aware of the parallel between the broken plate and the broken pieces of your heart.
There are still too many pieces scattered on the floor.
There are still too many pieces that you need to pick back up again.
There are still too many unresolved emotions that need to be addressed before you can muster the courage to speak to her again.
To see her again.
As you gaze at the shattered pieces on the floor, a wave of emotion washes over you, threatening to overwhelm your fragile composure.
The memories and pain of your broken heart bubble to the surface once more, tugging at the frayed edges of your resolve.
But you're determined not to let them consume you again, not now.
With a deep breath, you push aside the tumultuous thoughts and focus on the task at hand. The rhythmic clinking of dishes and the steady flow of water provide a comforting backdrop, offering a brief respite from the storm raging within.
As you stand there, lost in your thoughts, you're suddenly startled by a familiar voice breaking through the silence. It's Elena, your kind colleague, gently nudging you out of your reverie.
"Come on, rush hour is over now. We have 5 minutes for a quick cigarette," Elena says, her tone laced with concern.
Though you don't smoke, you find yourself following Elena outside, grateful for the distraction from your swirling emotions. As she lights up her cigarette and takes a drag, you let the cool air wash over you, trying to calm the storm raging within.
After a while, Elena speaks up again, her voice gentle yet hesitant. "She stopped by this morning," she confesses, her words hanging heavy in the air.
Your eyes widen at the unexpected revelation, your heart skipping a beat at the mention of her.
"Lo siento, it was very busy so I couldn’t come to you right away," Elena apologizes, her hand finding its way to your shoulder in a gesture of comfort.
You offer her a small, appreciative smile, though there's a tremor of emotion in your voice as you respond. "It's okay," you murmur softly, trying to mask the turmoil brewing within.
Elena continues, her hand finding its way to your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "She asked for you, and when I told her that you weren't here, she panicked and asked if you still work here."
"What did you say?" you ask quietly, your fingers fidgeting nervously.
"That you are working in the back now," Elena replies, her words causing a swirl of conflicting emotions to rise within you. "She looked relieved by the mention of you still working here."
Her words hit you like a wave, stirring up a maelstrom of conflicting emotions within you. Memories of Alexia flood your mind, her unwavering support and encouragement echoing in your ears.
You remember how she always admired your passion for your job, how she found joy in witnessing your dedication and determination. It was her unwavering belief in you that fueled your own confidence and drive.
"She didn’t leave right away. I think that she hoped to still get to see you, but after two hours she had to leave room for the people who had a reservation," Elena reveals softly, her words carrying a weight of understanding.
You absorb her words with a mixture of surprise and longing, the image of Alexia lingering in your mind like a ghost.
Two hours.
Two hours she spent waiting, perhaps hoping for a chance encounter, a fleeting moment of connection amidst the chaos of this busy restaurant.
You can't help but feel a pang of regret at the thought of her lingering presence, her silent plea for reconciliation hanging heavy in the air.
Despite the ache in your chest, you can't deny the flicker of hope that ignites within you at the realization that she still yearns for you, even in the wake of your fractured relationship.
But along with hope comes a wave of uncertainty, a gnawing fear that lingers at the edges of your consciousness.
Will you ever find the courage to face her again, to bridge the chasm that separates you?
As you stand there, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions swirling within, you can't help but wonder what lies ahead.
Will you continue to retreat into the safety of solitude, shielding yourself from the pain of potential encounters?
Or will you muster the strength to confront the ghosts of your past, to seek the closure and healing you so desperately crave?
You don’t have a moment to process all your thoughts and emotions as your 5-minute break comes to an end, and you re-enter the bustling restaurant. With a grateful smile, you thank Elena for her support and the valuable information she shared, before diving back into the rhythm of your work.
A little while later, you find yourself trudging back towards your apartment, the chilly winter rain adding to the somber mood that has enveloped you lately. All you long for is the comforting warmth of a long, hot shower and the soothing routine of cooking a home-cooked meal to momentarily escape the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.
Finally reaching your apartment door, you step inside and flick on the lights, only to be met with silence and darkness. With a heavy sigh, you realize that your lights have once again decided to call it quits, adding another item to your ever-growing to-do list.
Undeterred by the lack of illumination, you navigate your way through the dimly lit apartment, shedding your coat and shoes with a sense of resignation. All you want now is a hot shower and a comforting meal to soothe your troubled mind.
However, fate seems to have other plans for you tonight. As you try to switch on the electric plate to cook some rice, you're met with yet another setback. No electricity. With a frustrated groan, you realize that your plans for a home-cooked meal may have to be postponed.
Deciding to prioritize a hot shower to wash away the stresses of the day, you make your way to the bathroom, shedding your clothes as you go. But to your dismay, the water remains stubbornly cold, refusing to provide the warmth and comfort you so desperately crave.
Despite the lack of electricity and hot water, you push through, forcing yourself to endure the chilly shower in an attempt to at least feel somewhat refreshed.
Afterward, feeling slightly defeated, you seek out your neighbor for any insight or assistance, but his response offers little comfort, leaving you feeling even more disheartened.
Returning to your apartment, you settle for a meager meal of crackers, the taste of frustration lingering on your tongue. But amidst the frustration and disappointment, a faint chuckle escapes your lips as you recall a similar situation from the past.
-
Alexia stormed into your apartment, looking utterly drenched from head to toe. The sight of her, soaked to the bone, took you by surprise. You had been cooking, the sound of the heavy rain outside barely registering as you assumed she was safely in her car.
"Did you walk all the way from the training ground?" you ask, bewildered by her appearance. Despite her obvious discomfort, Alexia bursts into laughter at your incredulous expression.
"Why would I walk for 30 minutes when I have a sponsored car, bebé?" she replies with a mischievous grin, shrugging off her oversized coat and kicking off her waterlogged shoes. Despite being drenched, there's an undeniable allure to her appearance, and you can't help but admire her.
As she stood before you, her clothes clinging to her frame in a way that you couldn't help but find appealing, a playful glint danced in her eyes.
"It's just that you don’t have any parking space here, so to me, it felt like a 30-minute trek if I'm being honest," she explained, her words accompanied by an exaggerated sigh as she dramatically approached you.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her theatrics, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite your attempt to maintain a stern facade. "Don't be dramatic," you chided gently, pointing an accusing finger in her direction with the cooking spatula still in hand. "Put on a raincoat next time, or maybe bring an umbrella."
"Bring an umbrella, bebé? I thought you would've come to my car with an umbrella to pick me up and keep me dry," Alexia retorted, her grin growing even wider as she teased you.
With a mock-serious expression, you countered, "Do you want to sleep on the balcony?" but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips.
"You wouldn't dare do that to me. How else would you get any sleep?" Alexia shot back, her playful banter bringing a lightness to the air between you.
"Alright, let's drop this and finally give me a hello kiss," you playfully insisted, a warm smile gracing your lips as you met Alexia's eyes.
Without hesitation, Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, drawing you close as your arms found their way around her neck. With a gentle touch, your lips met in a soft, tender kiss, the world around you fading away in that moment of sweet connection.
As she pulled away, a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Hello, bebé," she greeted you cheekily.
You playfully pushed her away, a chuckle escaping your lips. "You should have a shower while I finish up dinner," you suggested, gesturing towards the bathroom.
A hint of disappointment flashed across Alexia's features as she pouted, "Are you not joining me?"
With a gentle smile, you planted a quick apology kiss on her cheek before gently pushing her towards the bathroom. "And let this dinner burn down the apartment? I don't think so, amor," you quipped, the warmth of your love filling the room as you continued to banter back and forth.
She finally gives in and heads off to have her shower while you busy yourself with finishing up dinner. The sound of running water from the shower fills the apartment, its rhythmic patter bringing a sense of calm to the air. You move about the kitchen, chopping vegetables and stirring pots, trying to focus on the task at hand despite the looming darkness.
But then, without warning, the electricity cuts out, plunging the apartment into darkness. All of your lights flicker off, leaving you standing in the dim glow of the candles you had just lit. You let out a frustrated sigh, hoping it's just a temporary glitch that will be resolved soon.
Quickly, you make your way around the apartment, lighting up candles in every room. Their soft, flickering light casts dancing shadows on the walls, creating a cozy ambiance that contrasts sharply with the earlier chaos.
As you finish lighting the last candle, you're startled by a sudden squeak and a squeal coming from the bathroom. Your heart skips a beat as you hurry towards the source of the noise, your mind racing with worry.
"¿Bebita, estás bien?" you inquire as you step into the bathroom with a rather big flashlight, which you put on the bathroom sink, concern etched across your features. "You're not playing a prank on me, are you?" you add, a hint of amusement in your voice.
Your girlfriend turns to look at you, her expression more annoyed than amused, in the midst of washing her hair.
Despite her irritated figure, you can't help but be distracted by the sight of her naked body, water droplets cascading down her gorgeous form.
Your eyes linger on her breasts, noticing the way her nipples stand erect against the chill of the water. You're tempted to reach out and play with them, but before you can, she grabs both of your wrists.
"No, bebita, my face is up here," she says, pulling your hands towards her cheeks and planting a playful smack on them. Despite her irritation, there's a hint of amusement in her eyes at your flustered reaction.
"Did you turn off the boiler to make my shower ice-cold? And where is the light?" she asks, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion.
"No, amor, I would never," you protest, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "I know how much you love your hot showers."
"Then why is the water still freezing?" she questions, her grip on your wrist tightening slightly as she pointed with her head towards the tap.
"I think there might be an electricity and hot water failure in my apartment," you admit apologetically, your cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment.
"Well, that's just perfect," she grumbles, pouting slightly before her expression brightens with mischief.
"Looks like we'll have to find another way to warm up."
You watch in surprise as she tugs you into the cold shower with her, your clothes clinging to your skin as icy water cascades over you both.
"Alexia!" you exclaim, a mixture of shock and laughter in your voice as you brace yourself against the ice-cold water.
-
As the days passed, the recurring electricity and hot water failures in your apartment weighed heavily on your mind. Each morning, you woke up feeling drained and disheartened, the constant discomfort of cold showers and cold meals taking its toll on your well-being. Despite your best efforts to adapt to the situation, you couldn't shake the lingering sense of frustration and longing for something better.
Night after night, you tossed and turned in bed, unable to find solace in sleep. You were feeling cold and the memories of your breakup with her still haunted your thoughts, replaying over and over like a broken record. With your friends away on holiday, you found yourself feeling more isolated than ever, longing for the comfort and support they usually provided.
In the midst of your turmoil, you couldn't help but think of Alexia's mother, Eli. She had always been a source of warmth and understanding, besides Alexia, her keen intuition often sensing when something was amiss. You remembered the countless times she had offered you a sympathetic ear and a comforting embrace, her unwavering support helping you navigate the challenges life threw your way.
This is why you found yourself trudging down the familiar path towards Eli's house, a small duffle bag slung over your shoulder. It was already 10 pm, and exhaustion weighed heavy on your shoulders, your weary steps echoing in the quiet night. You hoped fervently that Eli wasn't hosting one of her infamous family dinners tonight, where Alexia and Alba would undoubtedly be in attendance.
You were still in the midst of your self-imposed phase of avoiding Alexia, determined to keep your distance for a little while longer. The thought of facing her, of confronting the tangled web of emotions that still lingered between you, filled you with a sense of apprehension and unease.
As you finally reached Eli's doorstep, you paused for a moment to gather your thoughts, taking a deep breath in and then exhaling slowly. With a flicker of nervous anticipation, you reached out and rang the doorbell, the sound echoing through the quiet night air.
You hear the soft patter of footsteps approaching, and moments later, the front door swings open, revealing Eli standing there in her comfortable sweats. A bright smile lights up her face as she takes in your presence.
"Oh, hi, dear! I've missed you! Come in!" Her initial excitement quickly gives way to concern as she notices your tired demeanor. "Did you walk all the way? You could've called me," she frets, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive.
Her genuine concern washes over you like a soothing balm, easing the tension that had been building within you. With a grateful nod, you step into the warmth of her familiar home, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you. "Do you want some tea?" she offers, her voice filled with warmth and kindness.
You return her warm smile with one of your own, appreciating her thoughtfulness. "Yes, please," you reply softly, the weariness evident in your voice.
As you peel off your coat and shoes, you're grateful for Eli's unspoken understanding, knowing that she'll be there to lend a listening ear when you're ready to talk. For now, the simple act of being in her presence brings you a sense of solace and reassurance.
"Lo siento for coming here so late and unannounced," you confess softly, your voice tinged with a hint of embarrassment. You sink into the plush cushions of the couch, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over you. "My apartment has been experiencing this electricity and hot water failure for a couple of days now, and I've reached my breaking point. I didn't know where else to go."
Eli's gentle smile reassures you as she enters the room, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of tea. "It's really no problem, dear. I'm glad you came to me," she says warmly, setting the tray down on the coffee table before taking a seat beside you.
"I know Alexia is away at that event, so it's good that you came here. You can sleep in the spare room and have a nice shower if you want."
Her words offer a lifeline of comfort in the midst of your turmoil, but beneath the surface, questions gnaw at your mind. You force yourself to push them aside, not wanting to burden Eli with your inner struggles. Instead, you focus on the warmth of her presence and the soothing aroma of the tea.
As you glance around the room, your gaze lands on the framed photos of you and Alexia displayed prominently on the walls. Despite the bittersweet memories they evoke, you can't help but feel a pang of confusion at the sight. Eli has always supported your relationship with Alexia, but seeing the photos still hanging up feels like a contradiction in the wake of your breakup.
Eli noticed your gaze drifting towards the framed photos adorning the walls of her cozy living room. "Oh, I need new ones, those are so old," she remarked casually, her tone tinged with a hint of nostalgia.
Her words caught you off guard, stirring a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within you. It was a simple comment, but it left you feeling unsettled and confused.
Did Alexia not talk to her mother about the breakup?
Why were the photos still displayed so prominently, as if frozen in time?
The pain of the breakup resurfaced with renewed intensity, threatening to overwhelm you. You blinked back tears, struggling to maintain your composure in the face of Eli's well-meaning words.
Despite the flood of emotions threatening to consume you, you forced a tight smile and nodded in response. "Yeah, maybe it's time for some new memories," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Eli's gentle gaze softened, a flicker of concern crossing her features as she reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Are you okay, dear?" she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine concern.
You nodded again, though the gesture felt hollow, your heart heavy with the weight of unresolved emotions. "I'll be fine," you assured her, your voice trembling slightly.
"It must've been tough," Eli continued, her tone gentle yet resolute. "Alexia told me the two of you had a bit of a break. But not in a negative way, in a positive way. Sometimes we all need a small little break, right? To find each other again."
Her words echoed in your mind, stirring up a whirlwind of doubt and uncertainty.
Had Alexia truly confided in her mother about the break, painting it in such a positive light?
Or was this just another layer of deception, another mask hiding the truth?
The question hung heavy in the air as you mustered the courage to voice your own concerns.
"Do you think she will talk to me any time soon?" you asked, the words tumbling out with a boldness that surprised even you.
Eli's response was measured, her expression thoughtful as she considered your question. "Qué quieres decir?" she replied, her voice tinged with confusion.
"Alexia told me that the two of you are doing more than fine and that therapy helped a while ago. You both had just been a bit busy, which is why I didn't get to see the two of you much."
The revelation hit you like a blow to the chest, leaving you reeling with a mixture of anger, betrayal, and a glimmer of hope.
How could Alexia lie to her own mother about what had transpired between you?
Did she truly believe that everything would magically fall back into place, that lying about therapy would somehow mend the chasm that had formed between you?
Your eyes welled up with tears, a tumultuous mix of emotions threatening to spill over. In that moment, you couldn't distinguish between the tangled mess of feelings swirling within you—sadness, anger, confusion, hope—all blending together into a single overwhelming wave of emotion.
Eli, ever perceptive, noticed your distress, her expression softening with empathy and concern. "Lo siento, no quise ponerte triste," she said gently, her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.
Without hesitation, she pulled you into her comforting embrace, enveloping you in warmth and safety. In that moment, all the pent-up emotions that had been swirling inside you came pouring out, released in a torrent of tears and sobs.
As you calm down from the overwhelming flood of emotions, your head still resting on the comforting crook of Eli’s neck, you muster up the energy to speak. You feel a deep-seated need to unburden yourself, to share the weight of your feelings with someone you trust implicitly.
The urge to confide in Eli grows stronger with each passing moment.
After all, doesn't she deserve to know the truth?
What if she holds the key to helping her own daughter navigate through the complexities of her emotions?
Perhaps Eli possesses insights and wisdom that you couldn't offer Alexia, despite your best intentions.
Regrets and what-ifs swirl in your mind, each thought a testament to the depth of your emotions and the complexity of your situation. You can't help but wonder if things might have turned out differently if you had only reached out to Eli sooner, if you had allowed her to be a part of your journey from the start.
Before you could second-guess yourself, the words spilled out in a quiet whisper and between sobs.
"She needed space.’’
''I didn't know.''
''I don't understand.''
‘’She left me.’’
‘’She left me and told me through a letter’’.
‘’She left me with a letter."
The admission hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your emotions, yet strangely liberating at the same time.
With each word spoken, it felt as though you were delicately piecing together one of the many shattered fragments of your broken heart.
Holding that small piece closely, you made a silent vow to yourself to safeguard it, ensuring it wouldn't slip from your grasp again.
It was a tender moment of reclaiming your truth, a step towards healing and self-discovery in the midst of emotional turmoil.
-
Note: as we dive deeper into the story, I'm considering switching up the perspective for the next piece. Should I continue with Reader's perspective, or would you be interested in exploring The Fourth Piece from Alexia's perspective?
Your opinion is valued and appreciated, so feel free to share your thoughts openly but remember to always express yourself kindly and respectfully.
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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 1 year ago
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“no purity”
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❤︎ synopsis — he’s such a tease… always egging you on and irritating you. so now, he’ll just prove his point to you over and over again
pairing: vessel x afab!reader
theme: smut ❣︎
a/n: first sleep token fic! this was done per the request of my lovely friend @dead-end-fanfiction , the ask will be linked here. enjoy~
cw: nsfw content. gender neutral pronouns for the reader. thigh riding. lots of teasing from vessel. slight dirty talk. degradation.
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“you’re tense, darling,”
“shut up, i know i am,”
how did they find themself in this situation again?
y/n was currently perched up on vessel’s thigh, staring down at him with a mixture of both irritation and anticipation. their breath was haste, dripping with an unknown sense of desire as they stared down the dark, mysterious man, who only wore a pearly white grin underneath his mask.
they were both in vessel’s office. he was leaned back against his red, velvety chair, the fabric brushing against vessel’s bare thighs. he looked cozy, despite the rather sexual situation he was in with the person who’s thighs were straddling his leg.
vessel just let out a chuckle, amused by the predicament they both found themselves in.
“well?” he started out, his voice feigning innocence underneath his knowing smirk. “you gonna start moving or what?”
they could only scowl at the masked man, not appreciating how smug he was being. “with that attitude, i won’t be moving at all.” y/n hissed out with narrow eyes, but that only seemed to amuse this eccentric deity.
“oh, honey… you’re the one that started this, remember?” vessel reminded, his tone velvety smooth with cockiness laced into his mannerisms. “i can sit here all day, and not do a single thing… just watching you drip your wetness all over my thigh,”
y/n was about to retort back, but they bit their tongue. as much as they wanted deny it, vessel was right; they did start this. but it wasn’t even intentional!
they just wanted to ask vessel a question. one. simple. question. but of course, the dark figure had to pull one of his wild cards, irritating y/n and prompting them to challenge vessel.
and that challenge? well, it was a battle of self control.
stripped completely of their pants, with nothing but their shirt on, vessel followed suit, and the two of them were just staring at each other, lust clearly clouding their eyes. sheet music was scattered all over the floor because of how haste vessel had gotten with putting y/n in this position, but he didn’t care.
especially when he got to tease them like this.
“look at you… so turned on just from sitting on my thigh,” the entity mocked with a provocative tease.
vessel’s voice was slickly sweet, a hint of mischief was in his tone. he was amused; amused at how easy it was to get y/n going. they were soaking wet all over his thigh, so much so that it was shimmering in the dimly lit room.
y/n could only roll their eyes at vessel’s words, their nails digging into his shoulders a little more. “you’re one to talk about being turned on, especially when your little friend over there seems to be having a bit of a problem.”
they nudged their knee in between vessel’s legs, brushing it against his clothed, hardened erection. he let out a rather loud groan from the contact, and vessel just chuckled lustfully.
“little? you wound me, dearie. it’s not little at all.” vessel spoke with a smug tone, a smirk evident on his face. “quite the opposite, actually.”
“shut up. we’re not gonna start talking about your dick.” y/n quickly shot down, blushing when they realized what vessel’s words entailed.
“awh look at that! you’re already blushing at the thought of me being too big and thick for you to handle.” he practically cackled out, relishing in the embarrassed emotions y/n was feeling.
they could only scoff and whip their head to look away from vessel. y/n didn’t have any sort of witty comment to get back at vessel.
they hated that he was so right too.
“now then… how about we get on track again, eh?” he spoke so smoothly, but his voice had so much arrogance to it. y/n gritted their teeth upon hearing this, but they just couldn’t be mad at him, not when they were being so intimate like this.
“you’re so goddamn annoying.”
“sure i am, but you love it. that’s why you’re so goddamn wet all over me.”
y/n really wanted to wipe that smirk off of vessel’s face, but they couldn’t bring themselves to. going back and forth with vessel has only gotten them more worked up, and they haven’t even done anything to relieve themself of this aching sensation that pooled in their stomach.
and vessel definitely took notice of this.
gripping their hips more tightly, vessel’s brazen and calloused fingers dug into the sides of y/n’s hips. he bounced his knee upwards teasingly to send jolts of pleasure up y/n’s body, making them whine out loud.
“fuck!” they moaned loudly, digging their nails into vessel’s shoulders.
“ahh… there we are, there’s the little slut talking.” he chided with a smirk, knowing the power he has over y/n.
it didn’t help that the friction only caused y/n to become even more wet. they could feel their leaking juices trickle down their inner thigh and onto vessel’s skin. and through it all, vessel still just emitted a cocky and sexy aura that made y/n just want to ruin their cunt all over his thigh.
it was so humiliating, but it turned them on so fucking much.
“i won’t repeat myself, darling.” vessel spoke with a taunting, almost threatening tone that was shrouded in promiscuous desire. “start grinding that pretty pussy on me, or i’ll make you move myself.”
his words were vulgar, but his words and the way he delivered them had so much power to them it drive y/n crazy.
y/n didn’t even think twice before they slowly started moving their hips in an up and down rhythm, keeping their pace slow. it felt like time had stopped for them specifically, just a little world where vessel and y/n could let their desires spill.
y/n rutted their puffy cunt all over vessel’s thigh, smearing his ashy skin with their juices. that feeling of doing all the work to get themselves off while vessel just sat there watching, it was enough to make y/n whimper from both frustration and arousal.
“g-god fucking dammit … mmmmh…” they managed to rasp out, and vessel groaned in response.
“that’s it… move your hips just like that..” vessel growled out, his nails digging crescent-shaped marks into y/n’s hips.
he guided their hips along his bare thigh, keeping his hands tight on y/n’s body as they were grinding up and down on his leg. the way they were moving just turned vessel on even more, the sight was so hot.
“ahh.. would ya look at that? you’re moving like a fucking pornstar.” vessel spat out, his voice still holding that lustrous tone that kept y/n whining and grinding on his leg.
“where’d you learn to do that, eh? you sleepin’ around with the other band members or what?” his voice was sharp, and a bit cruel. he just kept on speaking. “going around like the bitch in heat you are, getting other mens’ dicks wet for your dripping wet cunt? such a fucking slut… you’d do anything to get yourself off, won’t you?”
but those words just encouraged y/n to keep riding vessel’s thigh like no tomorrow, their movements speeding up slightly. they didn’t even bother to respond to vessel’s humiliating words.
vessel took notice of this immediately, and let out a lustful scoff, bouncing his leg up again to make y/n moan loudly. “mmmh.. not talking now, huh? that’s fine…”
he lifted them up slightly, and changed the angle to which y/n was riding his thigh, making it more pleasurable for their nether regions.
“just keep riding my thigh and prove to me what a little slut you are.”
and ride they did. y/n was moving their hips in such an erotic and frantic rhythm, it caused both parties to moan and groan from the feeling. that’s all they could think of; up, down. up down.
y/n hated how easily vessel got to them, how his words could turn them from a prissy, almost bratty little spitfire, to a mess of nothing but lust, desire and frustration.
but it always had them yearning for more. and damn did they love it.
as they continued to spread their juices all over vessel, their frantic movements were slowly pushing them closer to orgasm, that blissful climax they’ve been craving all this time.
“v-vessel… i’m so close..” y/n mewled out, and vessel was savoring that sound and feeling.
“oh.. you want to cum? does this whore want to cum all over me?” vessel questioned with that cruel, teasing voice.
he gripped their hips tightly and forced them down on his leg more, causing them to cry out in pleasure. “say it. say that you want it,”
“i-i want to cum! i want to cum all over your thigh! all over myself like the whore i am!” y/n practically screamed, getting desperate for a release.
vessel was satisfied to hear that; and so he guided their hips more across his leg to aid them to a climax. “that’s it… that’s the slut i love so much… now cum. cum all over the place.”
it seemed that his words were on command, because y/n’s hips spasmed wildly and their threw their head over vessel’s shoulder, crying out loudly in pleasure as they came all over his leg.
warm liquid trickled down their inner thighs and all over vessel’s leg, their essence coating his leg white. y/n breathed heavily to catch their breath, and vessel just chuckled and patted their head reassuringly.
“good little pet.” is all he said, a smile can be heard from his tone of voice.
after a bit of time of calming down, y/n caught their breath and attempted to get up from vessel’s leg, but his strong hands forced them to straddle his leg again, making them whine.
“vessel…?” y/n questioned with a slightly dazed tone, but the dark entity just chuckled.
“oh no… i’m not done with you yet, sweetie.” vessel whispered. he moved his hands to unbuckle the belt on the loops of his pants, sagging the clothing down. y/n looked down with wide eyes, watching vessel’s hardened cock spring free.
but he only chuckled knowingly. this was going to be a long night.
“i hope you’re ready for round two, baby, because it’s going to just get better from here.”
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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months ago
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Hi! I just love your levi fics so much!
For a request I was hoping for something like this -
Levi & reader had grown up together along with Isabel and farlan, when the group gets sent off onto their fateful mission levi thinks reader died alongside with Isabel and farlan. (Angst)
Only to discover years later that reader was alive and actually doing very well for themselves, well known and a strong fighter. Just a very cute reunion fic maybe? Maybe romance 👀 thanks! <3
🦅- Anon
this was an emotional rollercoaster I'm still crying babe but here you go, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do <3
Levi thinking he lost his sun forever only to find you again after years
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Pairing: Levi x fem! reader
Word Count: 3,3k
Synopsis: It's been 1869 days since you were killed by the abnormal titan Isabel and Farlan lost their lives to as well, 1869 days of missing you and regretting that Levi didn't tell you about his true feelings when you were still alive. Little does he know you aren't so easy to get rid of and that you are still out there...
Warnings: death, blood, war scene, depression, full on hurt to comfort, super duper fluff in the end, as usual not proofread because I need to go to bed now hehe
Notes: Finally my first Levi fic after literally MONTHS! I know a lot of you were patiently waiting for more attack on titan content and I'm beyond sorry it took me so long babes. Please let me know how you feel about Attack on Titan content so that I might do more and especially regular fics in the future <3
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He can’t take his eyes off you. To be exact, the sunlight suits your facial features so well that it seems impossible to ever let go of your sight.
You have been friends since he met you on that day exactly 6 years ago, when you tried to steal a load of food for a heavy pregnant woman. Since then, he was captivated by your beauty, your brain, your skills. But somehow, this makes the stinging fact that you sit beside him even worse.
“You shouldn’t be here, (y/n)”, he speaks out before he’s able to stop himself.
Immediately, your gaze drifts away from the dreamy scenery to him, eyes widen in surprise.
“What are you talking about, Levi?”
Don’t say his name while looking at him like that, not with that gentle tone in your angelic voice. He told himself over and over that you are nothing but a close friend, maybe considered family like Isabel and Farlan.
He huffs to himself. What a filthy little lie.
“This mission is dangerous. I don’t want you to get-“
“Hurt? Killed? You told me about all those things more than once and I’m happy to repeat myself again for you: I will not leave you, Farlan’s and Isabel’s side. After all, we are friends, right? And friends don’t leave each other behind.”
You gift him with your usual breath-taking smile while his heart skips a beat.
A friend.
He has to remind himself over and over again, force his orbs away from you. You are nothing but friends. And he will never risk to lose you over the potential of something more.
-the evening before the mission-
“I thought I’d find you here”, your teasing voice shouts from behind.
You are probably the last thing he wants to see this evening. Not because he doesn’t enjoy your company, but because he wasn’t able to convince you to stay in safety. Erwin Smith made it very clear that this mission is dangerous, that multiple survey corps member already died behind those walls. And even though you, Farlan and Isabel showed your skills countless times before, he can’t stop his train of thought. You, getting grabbed by a titan. You, getting ripped apart, your blood scattering onto the ground. He won’t have the chance to stay by your side during all times. One wrong movement, one thoughtless decision and you’d be gone.
“I don’t even have to ask in order to know what you’re thinking about right now, Levi.”
The second your hand brushes over his shoulder, he is too lost in the feeling of your bare hand against his shirt to worry any further.
“You don’t have to worry about Farlan, Isabel and me. After all, you’re the one who taught us everything we know.”
“Tsk. You were already doing fine when I met you.”
“But you were the one who showed me there is still hope, something worth fighting for. If it wasn’t for you, I would have died down there without ever seeing the sun once in my life”, you reply.
All of the sudden you place your hand on top of his and squeeze in gently. That look on your face, is it…Affection? He shakes his head firmly, doesn’t allow himself to get lost in that oh so sweet idea. A woman like you will never fall for a cold-hearted man like him, not when the whole squad fell head over heels for you the second they got to know you better. You are a true sweetheart, everyone’s favorite, a ray of sunshine. He, on the other hand, is none of that.
“Stop praising me or else I’ll puke and make a mess onto the freshly cleaned floor.”
No, he doesn’t deserve your kind word, doesn’t even deserve that spark in your eyes. You are better off without him, even as a friend.
“You’ll gonna clean it up anyway”, you bite back with a wide grin.
“Actually, there is something else I want to talk with you about, Levi.”
The sudden change in your voice paired with the warmth of your hand leaving his lets his gaze wander to yours again – only to catch you already staring.
“What is it?”, he questions instantly.
“If you have to decide between Isabel, Farlan and me…Just promise that you’ll safe them before even thinking about my ass. Please look after them and don’t worry about me.”
His eyes widen just the tiniest bit, reveal his surprise and…his resist. Not thinking about you, leaving you behind? The urge to shake you becomes almost unbearable when he grabs your arms passionately, gaze locking with yours.
“There is no way in hell I will ever leave you behind, dumbass. Don’t you dare to die on me, got it?”
“Promise”, you urge.
“Promise you’ll look out for them first.”
“(y/n)…”
He has to close his eyes in order to stop staring at your perfect lips. This might be the last time he ever sees you alive so unbothered by his side, the last time he witnesses the way the dim moonlight lights up your hair.
This…might be your last night alive.
“Please, I can’t live with the thought of being without them. They are still so young.”
“What about you, though? What if I don’t want to live a life without you? What if I die myself?”
You smile at him sadly, your hand caressing his cheek oh so gently.
“We all know you won’t die out there, Levi. It’s us who might not be here with you tomorrow. After all, that’s why you wanted to stop us from coming with you, right?”
He swallows hard. Every single one of you is a skilled fighter. Hell, you even survived the underground with countless enemies chasing after you. But this? This is something completely different. For the first time since getting to know all of you, Levi isn’t so sure about your abilities anymore.
“I promise”, he replies with low voice.
“Thank you”, you breathe out.
“Now, let’s get some sleep, shall we? We have a big fight ahead of us.”
Oh, there is no doubt in the fact that Levi won’t close his eyes this whole cursed night, pondering about a way to safe all of you. But even though you are very aware of that, you turn on your heel and smile at him one last time.
The brightest smile of them all, making your face gleam in nothing but affection.
“Oh, and Levi?”
“What is it, dumbass?”
“When I was talking about the sun earlier…That sun was you.”
And then you’re gone in the dark, leaving him with his heart almost beating out of his chest and feelings clustered all over the place.
Him, your sun?
-the battle-
Your eyes widen in sheer horror, the violent scream escaping your lips not reaching your ringing ears. Those powerful orbs…There is no doubt in the fact that this is her, that this is Isabel. Tears stream down your face uncontrollably, mix with the bitter coat of rain that sticks to your face uncomfortably.
Your friend is dead. And you were not able to protect her.
“You.”
The monster standing in front of you doesn’t look like the other titans you’ve seen before. Eyes red like crimson, lips curved into an evil grin. This thing is absolutely aware of the agony it causes you and enjoys every tear you cry.
You grab your blades even tighter, narrow eyes fixating its nape.
“I will make you suffer”, you press out through gritted teeth.
“I will make you regret that you even touched her!”
You dash forward only to get greeted by thin air. Fuck, this thing is so fast you didn’t even realize it was gone until your blade crashed into the muddy ground. Why do your hands suddenly start shaking, your knees felling weak? It’s just you and that thing. The other corps members around you? Scuttered onto the floor in bloody pieces.
Levi?
You escape its clutches by a hair’s breadth, the monster’s stinging smell of death and rotten flesh making your guts turn. You need to focus, need to control your fear and anger. Otherwise, you’ll die just like all the others did.
Levi…Is he dead as well? There is no one around, no one showed a single reaction to your multiple cries for help, your signs. Maybe you’re the only one who’s left. Which means that Farlan and Levi are gone.
Levi, gone? Fuck, you should have told him about your true feelings yesterday, you should have pressed your lips against his like you always dreamed about. This was the last opportunity to tell him how much you love him before both of you die.
And now it will be forever too late.
Just when you’re about to dash forward, the arm of the titan yanks towards you with breath-taking speed. Your eyes widen in sheer horror as all you can do is stare in sheer disbelief.
Is this how you will die? Through the hand of an abnormal titan, eating you alive?
You always dreamed of a life on the surface with Levi by your side. Maybe a small cottage on the edge of a busy city close to a river. Having a little farm with a few animals here and there, Levi working for a local business while you stay home and care for your home. For a brief moment, you allow your eyes to rest, to get lost in the life you will never have.
If only you had told him sooner. Maybe then it would have been different. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel your bones crack against the sheer force of the titan’s flat palm, throwing you into the air like a ball.
As soon as your body hits the ground, everything goes black.
-5 years later-
He opens his eyes against the way too harsh sunlight. Another night he hasn’t slept more than 2 hours. Day 1869 of missing you.
“Good morning, Captain Levi!”
He doesn’t even care to reply, feet carrying him down the hallway monotone. His days have always been the same since the day he lost Isabel, Farlan and you: Getting haunted in his sleep, waking up alone, surviving another day in this living hell. It’s almost ironic, how he already hated the world when you were in it. Little did he know how much worse it would get when you’re gone.
There is no day since back then that doesn’t revolve around you. You, with your hair down in the sun. You, beating up some tuff guys and showing them their place. You, that fucking cursed night before you had to leave.
Until this day, he hates himself for not being there. By the time he arrived, everyone was dead, brutally murdered by an abnormal titan. And even after searching for your corpse for hours in the pouring rain, he didn’t even manage to find a single limb left of you. This should be a good sign. After all, it might mean that you somehow managed to survive.
“The chances of (y/n) surviving and managing to flee on her own are 1 against 500.000”, Erwin said back then.
Maybe it would have actually felt better, knowing that you’re dead. Maybe this would spare him from getting haunted by your giggling and fucking gorgeous face each and every night.
But…If getting haunted by your presence is all he has left, he shouldn’t complain about it.
“We are heading out today. It is said that there are countless abnormal titans roaming around a city nearby”, Erwin explains briefly.
“How the fuck did these things even manage to get in there?”, Levi grumbles in response while taking a sip of his way too hot tea.
“That’s not what I care about. What I’m more interested in is the fact that a group of villagers managed to trap one of them.”
Levi can’t help but put his cup of tea down while Hange bursts out in sheer excitement next to him. A group of villagers, trapping an abnormal titan?
“Former corps members?”, he questions.
“Apparently not. Maybe they are interested in a new job”, Erwin replies, getting up from his seat and straightening his uniform.
“We are leaving right now.”
“Right now? Over some brats who were lucky to not get eaten by that titan?”
“You can’t deny that these ‘brats’ have to be skilled in order to trap an abnormal titan, Levi.  Also, I heard the head of them is a woman.”
Levi huffs to himself. Skilled, huh? Lucky is definitely the better fit.
You sink your blade straight into the eye of the disgusting creature lying in front of you, watch in sheer satisfaction how it squeals underneath.
“Hope you enjoy that as much as I do”, you mumble, twisting and turning your sword painfully slow.
“(y/n), d-don’t you think that’s enough? What if it escapes?”, the man next to you cries out, holding safe distance between himself and the abnormal.
“So what? Listen, you little shit. If you even try to escape, I will kill you without even blinking, got it?”
You rip your blade out. In, out, in, out until everything around you is covered in crimson.
Just like back then.
You stumble back when a wave of nausea hits you. The sight of Isabel’s lifeless head, her limbs scattered across the muddy floor. Back then, you weren’t able to save her, weren’t even able to save yourself. If it wasn’t for your crew, you’d be dead by now. Just like her…
“Hey.”
“How about you take a break for a sec? You’re drifting off again.”
Her gently voice pulls you out of your nightmare just like her tender touch. Petra has been the greatest support since that fateful day. In fact, the only reason you are still alive is her. When she found you, you were already on the brink of death. Only due to her passionate and long-term care, you learned how to walk again, learned how to fight again.
“Sorry”, you mumble, allowing yourself to rest for a moment against her strong shoulder.
“(y/n), I’m sorry to interrupt you like this but…We spotted members of the survey corps?”
“The survey corps?”, you repeat in sheer disbelief.
Rage starts flooding your veins in an instant, forcing you to pick up your blade again. If there’s one thing you will never forgive the survey corps for, it’s the fact that they left you standing in the rain. The countless people who died with the wings of faith embroidered onto their jackets, eaten alive by a titan while your desperate cries for help remained unanswered until this day. For Erwin Smith, you were nothing but canon fodder, nothing but a bait. And you will forever hate him over the fact that he is partly responsible for the death of Isabel, Farlan and Levi.
You storm in the direction your scout sighted them, jumping from tree to tree in order to catch them by surprise. You will definitely not tolerate survey corps members around your area, especially when you just caught an abnormal titan to study and torture.
“There they are.”
Their disgusting green cloaks fill you with thick anger, almost force you onto the ground to knock every single one of them out. But you know all too well this isn’t the way to go. No, you will wait here until the right time comes to throw yourself at their captain.
There are five of them, walking towards the direction of your village. Just wait a few more seconds until the one who walks ahead is underneath you, one second and you…
You lunge yourself at the person with full speed, forcing them to the ground. Him, to be exact. That firm chest exposes all too urgently that you just attacked a man.
“Are you out of your goddamn mind, brat?”, he barks at you, rough hands grabbing your wrists so tightly that your bones threaten to shatter.
You aren’t able to defend yourself, though.
That voice, the way he called you brat.
Is it really possible that…
You allow your eyes to look up at him and for a moment, time seems to stand still.
“Levi.”
You breathe his name out like a prayer, as if your dream might become reality. These grey and unbothered eyes look just like you remember his, the dark hair framing his face oh so perfectly.
“Levi, is that you?”
He can’t comprehend his feelings. Just a second ago, he was under attack of a stranger. But your eyes aren’t foreign. They hold the spark he dreams of each and every night, the memory he cares about so deeply. Is it really possible, that…
“(y/n).”
Everyone was so sure that you died on the battlefield, that the titan must have eaten you alive without leaving any remains. But maybe there was nothing to remain. Maybe you actually did manage to survive. Is it possible? Is this really you?
“I thought you died.”
Your voice is nothing but a fade away whisper, tears streaming down your usual so composed face like rivers when your memories begin to crash down on you like a house of cards. All those years, you were convinced Levi lost his life on this battlefield as well, that you were the only one remaining. But now you’re sitting on top of him, taking in his clean scent while he glares at you the way he used to.
“Everyone tried to convince me that that fucking abnormal ate you back then, that there is no chance you survived. Now look at you, dumbass”, he breathes out, very own eyes now coated in a thin layer of glimmering tears.
There is no time to waste. With a swift motion, you lunge yourself at him again, wrap your arms around his strong torso as if your life depends on it while resting your head against his chest and crying your heart out.
Words will always fail to express how much you missed him, that you thought about him each and every night since the day he was taken away from you so roughly. But now, you will never let him go again. Now you won’t waste another opportunity to tell him how you really feel.
“I love you, Levi. I loved you since our days in the underground city, I loved you through all these horrible years of grief. I love you. I love you”, you finally blurt out.
“I love you too, (y/n). I always did.”
Gently, he rests his hand against your nape while lifting your chin up with the other.
The second your lips meet, your world feels complete for the first time. All the pain, the grief, the things you had to endure. The countless nights of imagining him right by your side, the thought of never seeing him again. And now he’s here, right in your arms while kissing you so passionately that you fail to breathe.
“I love you”, he repeats so softly that your heart melts away like butter.
“I love you…”
“I finally found my sun again”, you smile against his lips.
You snuggle yourself onto him even tighter, your grip around his torso firm. Oh, you will definitely never let this man go again. Not after it took both of you so many years to meet again, not when he’s all you ever wanted.
Levi Ackerman, the love of your life.  
“Who’s that woman throwing herself at you from a tree and then getting a smooch from you?”
“Shut up, shitty four-eyes”, Levi barks at the person standing behind him.
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