#her appetite’s too big for me alone
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Of Crepes and Creatures - A Sakie Oneshot
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Makie stumbled, panting as he fled from the scene of the crime.
He and Sachi had been out hunting the watari, as usual per their daily schedule working for Supervisor-san. Though, just because it was a normal routine for them didn't mean that it was any less taxing on poor Makie.
Being a human surrounded by monsters was strange enough for what used to be a normal life for him, but he loved it nonetheless. It was only a bit tiring sometimes. Like right now, as a large legged whale chased him through a bramble outside of an abandoned Daiso. There was a nestright behind the counter and several large watari had snuck it's way through and were spending their time grazing in the shop overrun with plants.
It was Makie and Sachi's job to herd them back through the portal and to close it up, to prevent any further creatures from escaping. Of course it was in his job profile to act as the bait, with his unusually sweet scent making him look like the perfect dish for all monsters. Of course it wasn't ideal, but the job paid well and he was always looking for excuses to hang out with his newly made girlfriend. Even if he was in the line of fire during their time together.
Right at that thought, an unsuspecting root suddenly snagged Makie's foot and the boy flew forward, slamming into the ground with a thud.
He gasped and turned behind himself to see how close the watari was getting to him, now that he had lost his movement and was shocked to see its giant jaws opening above him, a giant dollop of spit landing on his cheek from where the monsters throat was pulsating as if it was already thinking of swallowing its dinner for the day.
Bracing himself by holding his hands above his face, preparing for the worst as the monster dove down on top of him.
But right as Makie thought he was going to become watari food, Sachi dove in the way of the monster coming at him and interrupted his dive with her massive mouth, swallowing him in one big gulp. Gasping, Makie panted for air as the adrenaline from the mission wore down.
"That should be the last one," his senpai spoke, clapping the dust off of her hands as she transformed back into a human-type figure. She reached a hand down to Makie to help the boy up, him stumbling to get back onto his feet as his legs were shaking.
"Lets report back to Supervisor-san and then go out for crepes, what do you think?" Sachi asked, smiling down at her petite boyfriend. Makie should have been used to this by now, his girlfriend's quick rebound from fighting watari all day, but it still took him by surprise how quick to recover she was. He figured she wasn't being used as living bait though, so she had less to recover from.
"Sure," He spoke in a dazed zoned-out voice. "That sounds nice."
"Hello? Earth to Funatsugi?" Sachi joked, giving his side a squeeze before taking his hand and leading him away from the abandoned Daiso. She skipped at a fast pace, Makie stumbling behind her, tethered to her body via hand holding.
Makie found her persistence cute, how she would always bounce back whilst being considerate of others. The one thing he found frustrating was how she couldn't relate to him. It wasn't her fault of course, both coming from very different backgrounds (re: monster) but still he wished she could see his side of things more often.
Coming up to a woman leaning against a large white truck on the side of a road, Makie recognized the uneven bangs of he and Sachi's manager.
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#my art#mine#sachi’s monsterous appetite#sachis monsterous appetite#her appetite’s too big for me alone#her appetites too big for me alone#ano hito no i ni wa boku ga tarinai#sachi mitsuhara#makie funatsugi#sakie
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“Her Appetite is Too Large for Me alone” disappointed me for many ways
But i do find the idea of investigators into Lovecraftian Tillinghast like stuff each having an assistant from a completely different genre is a hilarious one
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an eye for an eye | knight!ghost x f!reader
your husband bends to your will. men must learn from difficult lessons how far that bending goes.
type: a continuation of a hand for a hand, but can be read stand-alone (11.6k)
cw: 1600s au, dark!ghost, reader described as curvier/plus-sized, graphic depictions of war + violence, possessive!ghost, war-criminal!ghost, inaccurate historical settings probably, unprotected piv, cumplay, breeding kink, size kink, simon "i'd do anything for my wife no matter the devasting consequences" riley (18+)
Your husband has an insatiable appetite. Such a big man he is; he towers over you, so much so that you must tip your head back always to look up at him. You had to make many arrangements in your house to accommodate his hunger–a pantry stocked full of eggs and less fabric for your skirts.
Your house isn’t like others. Neither you nor Ghost have ever lived in luxury. When he showed you your home for the first time, you had shaken your head–you didn’t believe that such a large place was supposed to be yours, and even now, sometimes you feel like a stranger, out of place when the maids ask you what you want for supper or where you’d like to take your afternoon tea. You don’t like the fuss, the asking, the women that curtsy when you come near, concentrated over the creases in your skirts or the loose thread of your sleeve or the wispy hairs that fall out of your braids. You are told all the time that you must behave like a duchess, that you must poise yourself with your new title and your new money, and you must do the things that duchesses do–but no one says the same to your husband.
He is still allowed to sleep in the barracks. Lick the blood off his gauntlets. Polish his sword in the dirt. He’s still allowed to be everything that you cannot be anymore, he still lives the life he had before.
He still kills; and he is still very, very good at it.
Your queen told you in a letter that the king is very pleased. Ever since your union, Ghost has been quite the conqueror. Bloodthirsty and very determined, your husband has been taking his men across the water. He is not any less impressive off land. Not even the pirates have tried to negotiate; they bend the knee or taste the salt water. You breathe shakily when you read your queen’s letters—her praise for your husband’s conquests, how blessed your family will be and how valuable you are to the crown, how grateful she is that Ghost is no longer a fiend in court but rather a little more polite and a little quieter.
All for your sake. Ghost’s name is now your own, and he refuses to embarrass you now that you have it.
You won’t lie; the bodies that Ghost has stacked since you’ve been wed do not scare you. He’s doing it for you. He has never said it out loud, never told you so, but you know it. He wants to show you what kind man that he is, what kind of soldier—you know he’s trying to prove himself worthy. If he killed a thousand men to have you, how many will he slaughter to keep you?
He sends you letters of his own. Not many, but he does send letters, and while Ghost seems to be ineloquent and entirely too brutish, he has quite the voice when he writes.
To my wife,
The sun falls quicker here. I’d like to come home. Tell me of your day, and I will tell you of mine. There were a fleet of ships that came to meet us at dawn. When we sank three, they begged for us to spare the rest.
I have you to think about now. So I burned them.
Simon
A poet, your beloved.
He signs his real name in his letters. Your eyes skim over most of it–you don’t even blink when he tells you what he does to them. Sometimes he writes in great detail about the screams of a hundred souls, the way burning flesh smells, the taste of dirt in a new place when you know it is finally yours. He doesn’t like having secrets. He tells you all his thoughts, even if they might scare you, because you are his wife, and he has discovered quite quickly that you have been cut from the same cloth.
Even when he is home, and he tells you these things all over again, he can’t help the way his cock hardens when you merely blink and ask him if he has added any scars to his collection.
Ravenous, naughty little duchess, and you are all his. He knows he picked well–he knows, he knows he wasn’t wrong when he saw you across the throne room hiding behind his queen, he knows now that he was right about what he saw in your eyes.
You do hate when he’s away. You’re not used to the maids helping you dress, and you secretly abhor the help. That is why when you hear the shuffle of your house early in the morning, your heart thuds in your chest knowing he’s home.
The staff get antsy when Simon is around. He is very good at keeping an estate for someone that has never had to or ever been taught to, but he leaves the responsibilities with you and only you every time he goes. He doesn’t trust anyone else to do it, and every time he comes back, he makes you sit on one big thigh as he teaches you something new that you need to remember for when he goes away. He demands much of those he employs, and they are eager to please him. Whether it is because they respect him or are afraid of him, you aren’t sure.
Perhaps it’s both.
You sit up as the bedroom door opens. You smile, big and wide and sleepy as he steps into the room. He shuts the door with his boot, slipping his hood off, and you sigh as he grips the clasp of his mask and unhooks it. He tosses it onto the floor, bare-faced, and as he makes his way towards the bed, he sheds the rest of his clothes until he’s completely naked.
You cannot stop yourself from the shaky breath you take. He is all muscle and fat, strong and entirely too scary, but it’s hard to focus on what he really is when he stands before you like this. He has fat thighs, big shoulders, carved muscle of intense labor around his middle and along his biceps. He has large hands with calloused palms and split knuckles, and your eyes meet his own as he comes closer. He’s so gorgeous, even with a face like that. He has a long scar that stretches from one brow to his lower jaw, another that cuts his nose and splits his lip, but those eyes are dark and lovely, and you can’t help the warmth that comes over you when he catches you staring at him, closer, right to his cock that hangs heavy between his legs.
Just as he begins to lower himself onto the bed, you hold out a hand, giggling.
“Simon, if you think you are getting into this bed without a proper bath, you’re mistaken!” You laugh, and he raises a brow.
“Mmm…” He smacks his lips together. “Tha’ right, my lady?” He clicks his tongue. “This is my bed. ’s oll mine. Every blanket…every pillow…” He grips your ankle from under the covers and yanks you towards him. “And every part of you.”
You giggle again, shaking your head, “Please, Simon!” You push him away with your toes. “They only changed the sheets yesterday. You’ll dirty them…” You flutter your lashes. “Will you bathe if I join you?”
He grins wide, licking over his teeth.
“Can’t refuse an offer like tha’.”
You hold out your hand for him, and he takes it gently. You watch as he brings your knuckles towards his mouth, and you bite back a smile when he decides to kiss each one, slow. He tugs finally, pulling you up, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he hoists you up into his arms. You would worry about your weight normally, but Simon holds you so easily, barely even a grunt as he wraps your legs around his middle. You don’t waste another second, cupping his cheeks in your hands and kissing him softly.
It’s never just a kiss with Simon. He slides one of his hands up your back, into your hair, and you whine as he tips your head back just enough to slip his tongue into your mouth. Simon doesn’t just kiss, he consumes. What he did to get back to you, the things he endured, the places he has seen and the bodies he has buried and burned and scattered across the places he now calls country, it’s always to get back to this place.
To you.
“How’s my boy?” He asks when you pull away. He carries you to another room, to where the tub sits, and he rings a bell by the door to call the maids in. You snatch a robe off a hook and cover him with it as he sits with you, but all he does is put a few fingers under your chin and make you look at him again. “Oi. Asked ya question, luv.”
Your lip wobbles a little, and you look away.
“I…” You wait until the maids have gone to fetch hot water to tell him. “I bled while you were gone. I…” You smooth your hands over the robe, distracting yourself. “I’m…I’m sorry, Simon.”
You close your eyes as he leans close, resting his forehead against yours, and you shake a little as he lets out a warm breath against your lips. He moves a warm hand over your soft stomach, cupping you there, and you lean your head back a little at the tender touch.
“It will happen,” he says finally, and your mouth opens to respond, but he sticks his thumb between your lips to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear you blame yourself. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s his, for not being here with you, for not be able to take care of you. You give in, suckling on the salt of him, and he grits his teeth as he watches you. “I know. Seen it in m’dreams.”
Simon has dreams. Lots of dreams, but he tells you that they are not dreams, they are glimpses into something that has already happened. When you asked if he was some kind of seer, the kind that the king used to have at parties, Simon doesn’t laugh.
He says the dreams are why he knows he won’t die. Why he is never afraid, because he knows somewhere behind his eyes what’s to come even if he didn’t see the entire painting of it. It is why he knew he would marry you; it is why he paid you so much attention, why he knew he would win his battles, why he always knows whose blood it is in his mouth because he has tasted their death before and relishes in the knowing of it all, in the certainty.
It’s never I think, it is always I know, and Simon is nothing if he is not the most honest man that you know.
So if he says you will have his babe, it is as good as truth. As green as the grass grows beneath his feet, as blue as his sky, and as red as the blood that is caked underneath his nails.
When the tub is filled with water, you let Simon sink into it first. You kneel beside it, picking up a glass of oil, pouring it into your palms before sinking your hands into his hair. It’s gotten longer since he left, in need of a cut, but you smile when he leans his head back into your shoulder. You can feel his content as he relaxes into you, and you admire his physique as you use the warm water and scrub the mud and grime off of him.
“I missed you, husband,” you whisper, and he only lets you massage his hair for a few more moments before he grips you by the wrist and tugs you forward, right into the bath. “Simon!” you laugh, “my night dress—oh!—it’s ruined!”
“Too far away,” he mutters, practically ripping the silk off of you as he tosses it besides the bath. “Mmm…” He cups your breasts with two big hands, smoothing his thumbs over your nipples, and you whine a little as he pulls at them just enough to make them stiffen. “Y’should be naked when I come home,” he says lowly. “I’ll soil y’r bloody gown next time, m’lady.”
You giggle, and he smiles. A real smile. As real as he’ll ever give anyone, maybe the only one that anyone has ever even seen. He has never shown his face in court, and while it angers the women and irks the men, you revel in the fact that all of this is only for you.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
You kiss him softly. The water sloshes, warm and inviting, and sometimes you forget your life used to be anything but joy. A year ago, you would not believe that you would be here, titled, wealthy, in a stone room lit by candles bathing with a blood hungry ghost.
A year ago, you trembled whenever he looked at you. You cowered when you heard his footsteps. What a stupid little girl you had been. What a fool. She had no idea what she could have, the kinds of things she could hold in her hand.
Real power wasn’t being able to command a room with your words. Real power was being able to say anything and have it be believed as truth. Real power was making someone look in one direction and have them see what you see, even if what you see isn’t real.
He lays you down in your bed afterward and eats. Your wet hair soaks the sheets, but you can’t seem to be really bothered as he fits your legs over his shoulders and bends you at the waist, his mouth suctioned to your clit as he eats you slowly. One of his hands is spread out over your tummy, the other you can hear making a squelch as he fists his own cock. It’s slow and methodical, and he slides his tongue between your folds firm, catching what dribbles from you on the tip of his tongue before he swallows it and leans in for more.
He has eaten you in nearly every room in your house. Frightened the cooks tossing you onto the dining table, given a servant a scare as he ducked under your skirts in the library, had the gardeners fleeing as he dropped you onto the grass near the lake and disappeared with a frenzy to eat your cunt during sunrise. It’s maddening, the kind of need that Simon requires, but it’s hard to refuse when you feel so warm and bubbly and happy after he’s finished. A pampered princess you are, never lifting a finger, only awake long enough when he’s home to eat until you’re full and cum until you fall asleep again.
Maybe that’s why you’re not pregnant yet. Simon likes to be here, between your thighs, mouth fixed on your wet pussy until he’s practically exhausted himself with a sore jaw and lax tongue.
He kisses you sloppy after. Licking into your mouth, practically spitting onto your tongue, wanting you to taste—tastes so good, luvvie, don’t ya see, yeah?—wanting you to know why he’s so eager to be on his knees all the time.
You sniffle, a little dizzy, shaking your head.
“’s not what I really want,” is all you whimper, and he nods, because he knows, he always knows.
“I know, luv. I know wot ya really need.”
“I must be broken,” you sob, cradling his face in your hands, and he shakes his head.
“Not broken,” Simon assures you. He speaks so surely that it’s hard not to believe him. “It wasn’t time.”
“You can’t see the future, Simon! You don’t know!” You cry, and he snarls a little, shaking his head again.
“You listen t’me,” he growls. You shake a little as he grabs your face with one hand, fixing your jaw under his grip as he holds onto you firmly. “Wot I say goes. Y’r my wife, so listen t’me, and listen t’me good. Y’r not broken. Not time. Say it back t’me.”
Your lip trembles, and he rattles your head a little.
“Say it,” he snaps, and you hiccup.
“It’s not time,” you whisper, and he plants a fat kiss onto your tear-soaked lips.
“Just need my cock, luv,” he murmurs. “Tha’s oll. Just need me t’fuck it outta ya.”
You nod, pressing your face to his, and he tuts, reaching down and spreading your legs wide to accommodate him between them as he lays over you.
“’s oll y’need,” he repeats, and you nod again.
You have to take another bath in the same morning; and this time, you weren’t able to walk there.
You like when Simon is home because it’s quiet. The only one that dotes on you here is Simon. The maids do not dress you or do your hair or moisturize your skin. It’s always Simon.
You smile at him in the mirror as you sit at your vanity. He has a brush in one hand, and he’s using it delicately to detangle your hair how you like. His hands are practiced and gentle, and when he finishes, he leans over you as he starts to part your hair to braid it. He did not have sisters, but his mother had him always do her hair after she lost the use of her hands with age. You don’t know where his mother is, but you assume she is not here anymore, because he never invites you to meet her.
He oils your skin. He slips the robe off of you, revealing your damp skin from the bath, and he slathers oil in his hands before using it to soften your skin. He takes his time, smoothing those big hands over your shoulders, down your back, along your arms. You tilt your head back when he warms your breasts, squeezing and fondling your tits. He murmurs in your ear the entire time, and he has to fuck you with his fingers to quiet you when he stops because just his hands on your tits has you wet all over again.
He dresses you, too. Helps you slip into your undergarments, fastens the cage for your skirts over your hips. He ties them skillfully, and after he layers your skirts over the farthingale, he gets you into your corset. It’s intimate as he does this. Even with your wide skirt, he comes closer, over your shoulder, and he tugs at the laces at your back, pulling it tight with firm grunts. You sigh when he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hand skimming over your breasts as they sit nice and perky between stiff fabric and whalebone.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, unnerving…the way ya look…”
You close your eyes, “S-Simon, please…I’m already dressed…”
He chuckles, “I know. I know.”
But when he has to leave again, you nearly come with him. You fasten his armor for him, help him slip each piece of leather on and click every piece of metal into place. You tie his cloak and slip his mask on, and you try and duck your head when you flip his hood up, but he catches you, tilting your chin up.
He huffs when he sees your face. Tears sliding down your cheeks, lips wet with them, eyes all glassy and red. He draws you up onto your toes, pressing his mouth to yours through the mask, and you hold onto him tightly, digging your nails into his chest armor and threatening to not let go.
“I want to go.“
“No.”
“Simon, let me go,” You gasp, begging, gripping his hood in firm fists and not caring that his armor is cutting into your front. “Let me go with you, I can’t do this anymore, I want to go, I can do it.”
You aren’t sure if Simon underestimates you. You think it’s more that he does not want you to see him in a place where he is most true. Where he wears the least of a disguise. He does not know he wears it the least with you, and that you have already seen his blood and how it curdles under his skin. You like it that way. You like him angry…and mean…and terrible. You like him when his sword is dirty and his armor needs polishing and his mind thinks of nothing else besides war. He should know this by now. He should know that you see him and see what he is even more than his king, more than his men.
He couldn’t scare you, even if he tried.
“War is not where women go,” Simon snaps. His tone is harsh, even for you, and you stiffen when he grips you by the jaw and rattles your head a little. “Especially not one like you, my love. War would eat ya, eat ya fuckin’ whole. Look at ya…” He huffs, deep, sliding that gloved hand down your throat to slip it beneath the neckline of your dress and fondle your breast with a firm grip. “Beautiful. Meant for my lips…for these dresses…meant to be held in my hands, not bleed from stray arrows, because tha’ is surely the least of wot they would do t’ya if they knew ya were my wife. Now ya will wipe these tears, ‘n see me off, and then ya will come back inside like a good girl, ‘n you will wait for me here until I come back.”
Your bottom lip trembles, and you scowl up at him. Not indifference, but frustration, and Simon doesn’t think it suits you.
“I’m sick of waiting for you, Simon,” you spit. “It’s all I ever do, wait. Wait for you to come back, alive or dead, I never know. And don’t say you do this for country, that is a lie.” You shove him backwards, but he barely budges when your hands touch his chest, a rigid wall that does not give. “You do it because you like it. You’re a bloodthirsty dog, and all you do is bend to our king’s will.”
A lie, but you tell it anyways, because you want something, and he will not give it to you.
“That is my duty.”
“Your duty is to me,” you snap. “Kings come and go, but I will not.” Simon stills. He glares down at you from behind his mask, and perhaps this might terrify his men, but that you are not. You are his wife, and you are protected by that title alone. The only man to ever lay a hand on you would not live to see another second, himself included. “Now you will let me join you, or so help me God, Simon, I will not be here when you return.”
You do not expect the full-bellied laugh that leaves him. His armor shakes with him, and you grind your teeth, narrowing your eyes. He uses his thumb to force his mask up, and then he cups the back of your head and draws you in for a sloppy kiss. You resist at first, but when he feeds you his tongue, you melt. You kiss him back, letting him draw you closer, and you sigh as he tangles his fingers into your hair and cradles you with those big hands.
There is nothing more to say. Simon neither confirms nor denies, but you taste it in his mouth, his devotion. Not wrong, not right, but just so–he has many responsibilities, but you are the only one that will remain the same. One day, his king will die, and he will serve another, but the space you have made beside him will never change. Even when you die, because he knows you will go before him, there will never be someone else to fill it. You and you only, the woman he found and made his, the one he demanded lest he kill his own country for it, it will always be you. Soft and sweet, you are, but the Lord knew Simon could only have one woman, and he made it be you; the one spitfire enough to defy her own king because she trusted his love enough for it.
Would you commit treason to save his life? Would you watch a king die if it meant your beloved lived?
Would he?
He thinks about what you have said when he takes his fleet across the water. He runs his tongue over his teeth behind his mask, breathing deep when he thinks about your proclamations of duty. Of change. Of what remains when other things move, of the kind of life that waits for him when he comes and goes with a king’s order. He thinks about how easily he is taken away from you, and he knows there is truth in what you feel. It is not really Simon that sacrifices, it is what he leaves behind, and that is you.
It’s never angered him before. He had accepted the fact, as early as your wedding day, that he would leave and come back, then leave again. It has always been the way of his life, come desire or not, so it bothers him that of all the things that surprised him in his life, it would be missing someone that shocked him the most.
Missing his wife. Missing the serene perfection of one woman, and the perfect place between her soft thighs. Every day that he finds himself between them is the best day of his life, he reckons, so now he feels bitter about staring at a freezing ocean amongst his men because he will go weeks without her.
Her. Her. Her.
He is bitter, yes, until he is not.
It comes in a letter from a messenger on horseback. They have been stationed in a foreign land for weeks now, watching slowly as the stone walls of a castle at their front crumples day after day from the stones filled with powder that ignite what is wood and break what is rock. The letter is sealed with wax, with the motif of a snake. It is given directly to Simon, whose name is scribbled in the letter, and when he reads it, he tastes ichor and smoke.
So the great phantom has come to seal my fate. I am not in the business of letting what is mine be taken. Even if you have brought your all, it won’t be taken from me.
I heard you have a beautiful new wife. I heard you paid for her in blood.
I shall do the same. I will hang your sword above our marriage bed.
Ghost is not someone that bends to the threats from foe he cannot look in the eye. Words are so empty. It is nothing like when he stands just a few meters apart from them, eyes fixed against one another, as they decide whether today they want to live or they want to die. The letter means nothing, but he’s surprised by the heat that bubbles under his ribs at the mention of his bride. He meant it when he said you were not meant for war, and that meant in this regard, too–nobody was allowed to talk about you, not like this, not ever.
When his king orders him home, Ghost crumples the note and tosses it into embers. He watches it burn, and then he orders his men to set to flame the ground around the stone walls.
So men like him can be goaded, it seems. His resolve is not as strong as he thought.
The weeks make you anxious. All you do is sit and collect dues and tell the maids which dress you want to wear and which you do not. It is peaceful and boring, and you wish Simon was here to make your days more exciting, but he is not.
His letters are the only things that keep you occupied, truly. He writes to you about war and loneliness, and you write to him about the mundane of domesticity and the ache he leaves behind. Sometimes, his letters come folded with pressed flowers he finds along the way, and you start to collect them, putting them away in small boxes or using them as bookmarks as you go through Simon’s library.
He has many books. His most loved books are those of war, of history, and you smooth your fingers over the pages he has dogeared and find comfort in reading the same words that he once did. You learn, as well. While in your studies as a girl, they made you learn arithmetic and the flowery bits of history and art, here in Simon’s house, you learn of strategy and weaponry and military tactic. Sometimes you disagree, and you write about these disagreements to Simon, and he writes back, pleased with your observations. He told you once that if you were a man, he would want you in that tent with him, beside him, deciding on which formations to take and when to strike. You responded saying that you could be that for him anyway. What did your sex have anything to do with whether you were right or wrong?
Simon agreed.
But I would never invite you here, dear wife. You have to understand that.
When your queen asks for your audience for dinner, you oblige easily; finally, you have something to do rather than add up numbers or sign a document on Simon’s behalf or read another fucking book.
You don’t want to wear all the costume your maids insist on, but you appease them after they repeatedly explain to you what your title means. With a drawn face, you let them tie your corset and layer your skirts, and you watch in the mirror as they braid your hair and drape large, obnoxious jewels over you. You grimace at the tiara they fit into your hair, and your elderly handmaid pinches your cheeks and tells you to put on a fair countenance, Your Grace, lest you make the Duke look ungrateful.
You bite your tongue from snapping at her. She should know that Simon would say nothing about your countenance; all he would do is fix whatever was bothering you until you smiled again.
You arrive early enough to have tea. Your queen is so excited to see you; she gushes when you meet her in the throne room, pulling you up from your curtsy so she can hug you tight, squealing. When you try to address her with a curt “Your Majesty,” she shakes her head, pressing her hands to your cheeks and giggling, “No need for formalities now. Call me Victoria.”
You hide your displeasure with a small smile. Now that you are no longer her lady-in-waiting, she allows you her name. Is it because she sees you more as equals, or because now you’re allowed to be somewhat of friends?
You must be some kind of friend. She sizes you up like you are one. She wears England’s colors this afternoon. A fire red dress adorned with gold accents, a dragon pin holding her shawl. She wears magnificent red and gold jewelry, but she’s looking at your dress, and you can see the slight twitch of her eye. You are wearing French lace, and she doesn’t like it. Or maybe she doesn’t like the color, the accents of navy blue and silver that you wear.
The skull motif that is woven into your tiara and printed on your coat and sewn into your dress. Does it insult her? That all your life, you wore nothing but browns and beiges and grays, were invisible to her, and now you represent your house, visit her as your guest, and bear an honorable name?
You were no one when you served her. Just a girl, no close family, no friends, just a distant uncle who gave you to the crown that hoped you could be of service. That was to be your duty for all your life–to serve the king’s wife until she wanted you no more or until she was gone. To cater to her every need and every wish, no matter the time of day or night.
Now you sit across her, more noble. Refined. Wearing a dress she despises, perhaps because she likes it more than her own.
Over tea, she gossips about the other ladies she has visit. You’ve heard this before, but you’ve never been included in the conversation. She talks to you, and she wants to hear your opinion, and you find yourself uneasy as you try to think of what to say. She is your queen, and you want her to like you. When you worked for her, you earned her favor by always warming up her jewels before she put them on, by making sure she had her tea ready in the morning at her bedside, by always holding the fan she so loved for when she inevitably had a hot flash. Now, as her friend, you weren’t exactly sure what to do. You suck in a soft breath and look at her, and then you purse your lips.
You think it best to agree with her. To be on her side. You might not be her direct servant any longer, but you still must fall under her favor. A queen’s favor can be just as powerful, especially if she occasionally has the ear of her husband.
“Well, that’s not very kind of her,” you say finally, and she laughs.
“No! She’s such a prude. I think her husband doesn’t sleep in her bed enough, if you know what I mean,” she winks at you. You giggle at that. “Speaking of husbands–” She pops another cake in her mouth. “How is yours?”
You reach up and tug at your necklace a bit, smiling nervously.
“Oh, uh…” You clear your throat, “He’s doing very well. I hear his latest campaign is quite the success. His majesty is very smart, heading for the east that way, I’m sure they will be victorious soon enough.”
Victoria smiles at the thought of her husband. His intelligence. She always used to talk to you about how many hours he worked, how she hated when he was away, how she wished he was home more so he could give her a son because she was so, so lonely.
“Wise words from the duchess, aye, my love?”
You jump a bit at the low voice from behind, and when you turn, you gasp, immediately standing and falling into a delicate curtsy. John Price waves his hand, coming further into the room, shaking his head.
“It’s alright,” he tells you. “Please, sit. You’re here as my guest.”
You stand and lift your head, trying to relax. You take a seat, smiling nervously, and Victoria smiles giddily at her husband. When he bends to kiss her cheek, she fawns, reaching for his hand and squeezing it before taking another piece of tart and eating it. John hums before motioning for one of the staff to fill your cup again with tea. He eyes you curiously, taking in your appearance. You sit up at that, performatively brushing off over the skull pattern on your corset. John runs his tongue over his teeth, smoothing a big palm down his wife’s long coils of hair.
“Since you’re here, I’d like a word, if that’s alright,” John says to you. His tone carries a little more authority now, and Victoria sighs, whining a little.
“John, please, she’s my friend. Can’t it wait–”
“That wasn’t a question, Victoria,” John bites. Her face falls a little. She swallows and tucks her hands into her lap. You’re reminded as you look at the slight wobble of her lip that there is no one truly above John Price, not even her. You keep your face neutral, but if you were invisible, you’d pity her.
What a shame her husband sees her as less than. How embarrassing. Your Simon would never. Your Simon waits until you finish speaking before speaking himself. Your husband kneels to take off your shoes, your husband tears your skirts to get a taste of you, your husband used his teeth to sever a man’s throat just to have your hand.
What did John Price do to get his wife? Who did John Price kill to have her hand? How many bruises did he earn around his knees on their wedding night from eating her out? As many as Simon, whose knees were black and blue by morning?
No, you suppose not. How unfortunate. How pathetic.
Victoria picks up her skirt and stands, pasting a big smile on her face. It doesn’t reach her eyes, and you can see the way her hands shake a little as she scurries off. She scowls as soon as she turns away from John, clearly annoyed.
“I’ll go check on dinner,” she says, but it is soft and unenthusiastic.
When she goes, the room falls quiet. At the nod of John’s head, the staff leave, and you keep still in your seat as John sits across from you, picking up one of the cakes in front of him and breaking off a piece to busy himself. He keeps his eyes on his task of cutting up the cake in small pieces, focused on his hands and how they work. You watch him carefully, steeling yourself.
You anticipate a conversation between man and woman, not a king and his lesser.
“Simon’s been away for some time. I bet that’s difficult for you.”
You straighten your posture, realizing what this conversation will be. By his tone, John seems to think you a bored, stupid housewife, perhaps. Uneducated. A woman, no thoughts in her head. You let your face relax, and you fold your hands in your lap. Maybe now is the time John should learn who you are and who you are not.
What you have become and what you no longer are.
“I do just fine, Your Majesty,” you say finally. You pick up a spoon and drop a cube of sugar into your tea, and you stir, picking it up to take a long sip. John is curious by your content. You have a quick tongue. “I could say the same to you, couldn’t I?”
John laughs. He narrows his eyes a bit at your clever response, taking a large bite of the cake and running a cloth over his beard. His eyes sparkle a little.
“So you know.”
“Know what, Your Majesty?”
“You know I gave Simon orders. And you know he didn’t listen to me.”
You purse your lips, but he sees the shine in your eyes. The lack of surprise. His face twitches a bit, and you shake your head. You blink slow, and it irks him to see you so calm. He is your king, and Simon answers to him, and you are his wife, so you must answer, too.
“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
“I could have your husband’s head cut off for treason for that, you’re aware, aren’t you?”
You tilt your head to the side. What an odd thing for John to say. What an odd thing for John to contemplate, since it would never come to pass. “Don’t be daft, my king. You wouldn’t want to do that.”
John slams his fist on the table, making the plates and cups rattle with his frustration, but you do not even flinch. You blink, stone-faced, and it makes his nostrils flare. He recognizes that glare, he knows it well. He has seen it before, stared it down many times in rooms just like this. Only now, he is not fighting for land, he fights for control of the one man that he has always been able to rely on. Simon has followed him into battles outnumbered by a thousand men, and only now he ignores an order? Only now he chooses something different?
“Now, let’s be civil, Your Majesty,” you say softly. You smile at him, leaning your head in your hand. “Is there something that you need from me? I have a feeling you might have encouraged this dinner just so you could see me in passing, so why don’t you just ask me what you wanted to ask me?”
John lets out a deep breath, leaning his elbows on the table, lowering his voice. He leans towards you, and you admire how blue his eyes are. John is quite a handsome king, but he does not captivate you. It has been a long time since John has tasted blood, and he lacks the edge that you crave dearly.
“I need him back here, is what I need,” John murmurs.
“My king, I couldn’t get him back here any more than you could, even if I wanted to.”
“Now who’s being daft?”
You scoff, leaning back in your chair. John is not a stupid man. He created a beast of a man, and he is trying not to poke it too hard. You shift, brushing down your skirts, and you let out a low breath.
“Why did he refuse?” You ask finally.
“What?”
“Why does he ignore your order to come back?” You ask again. “I can’t think of a lot of reasons why he would stay. So why did he ignore you?”
John clicks his tongue, smoothing a few of his fingers over his beard. He averts his eyes, looking out the tall windows, frowning a little at the grim weather. The weather is always grim here, but it irks him at the moment, makes him scowl a little harder.
“I was…informed that there was some sort of letter,” John explains. “Some threat.”
“I don’t follow. He gets lots of threats. And terrible letters.”
“Was about you this time, Your Grace.”
You close your eyes at that, shaking your head. Simon would never be so foolish as to be baited by baseless threats. He barely bats an eye when someone even in front of him draws his sword. He is so comforted by his ability to win, by his dreams and his visions that have not yet happened.
“That’s absurd,” you breathe. “Simon wouldn’t…”
John chuckles, but there is no humor there. “Wouldn’t he?”
“I still don’t understand what you expect me to do,” you roll your eyes, looking away. “Simon is…he’s not…he doesn’t listen. It’s why he’s good at this, isn’t it? He doesn’t really take orders, he’s…I…”
John has never complained before about the way Simon chooses to lead. Oftentimes, it is an order ignored that has made it so that he delivered another crown at John’s feet. Simon asks for forgiveness, not permission, and John has barely batted at eye at it. He sees Simon as some kind of distant son, but this refusal bothers him so?
John leans forward. “You need to understand something here, Simon is a rabid dog,” he spits. “And sometimes I let him off his lead, but this isn’t like anything I’ve had to deal with. I need you to call him back here.” He scoots closer. “England needs you to call him back here. To me.”
You narrow your eyes a little. England needs you to call him back? What kind of sick sense of patriotism is he trying to instill in you? John is stupider than he looks, to think a woman like you would show loyalty to country. You are loyal to your husband, and nothing else, because what has king and country ever really done for a woman like you except for dispose of you?
You wear Simon’s colors, not John’s, and you will wear them to your deathbed.
“If I do this for you, my king, then you owe me,” you whisper. He laughs again, no humor, and he picks up a goblet and fills it to the brim with wine. He drinks half before slamming it down onto the table, spilling it over his hand.
“Kings do not owe their subjects.”
“Quite right, Your Majesty,” you agree, picking up your napkin and dropping it onto the table. You stand, giving him a polite curtsy. “But I am not doing this as your subject.”
“Everything you do is as my subject.”
“You put your entire right to the throne on the back of one man,” you say softly. You are not accusing him, you’re reminding him of a truth. “Simon is why…he’s why your counsel still listens to you. He’s why your people are free from famine, why…why your taxes get paid on time, why your kingdom is still standing, no thanks to your father who wasted this place’s fortune on women and liquor.” You shake your head. “You have an eye for conquest, Your Majesty, but you lack the execution of any plan you conjure.”
You are not wrong, and John knows this, and it’s why he hasn’t spoken up yet or interrupted you. The man before, his own father, was a drunkard who spent all their money. He drank himself into the grave, and the only reason John stands before you now is because of Simon. A man who he fought beside, who he commanded, who once John’s duty became reality took up the mantle and finished what his father never could.
John would be in the next history book you read because of Simon, and it’s Simon’s name that will never be written. They do not bestow legacy to men who serve other men.
“Where…Where did you learn to speak to men this way?” John scoffs. “I am your king.”
You must have hit a soft spot. John is defensive now, and men only deflect and insult when they are cornered with the truth. They don’t like being held in front of a mirror.
“You are king because my husband made it so,” you correct him gently. “And Simon is a loyal dog, and that is good for your sake, because if he had any desire for your seat, it would be his.” You come closer, your heels sounding, and John glares down at you; but you glare right back because you are protected by your name and what you can do with it. John knows this, and it angers him, but he seems to have difficulty facing the truths of his own making. “But he is not your dog anymore. He’s mine.”
Your pen on paper is aggressive. You can tell because the splotches of ink are deep, bleeding black sinking into white as you put angry word to parchment. Not even a fortnight later, you are playing cards with Victoria, and you see Simon’s silhouette standing in the doorway, hood shadowing his masked face as he observes. When you look over your shoulder where John sits, and you meet his eyes, he looks away from you with a grim understanding.
Simon answers your call. Always.
At dinner, John is in better spirits. He drinks with a big smile, eats more than one plate, and he picks Victoria up by the waist to make her dance with him when he asks for the music to be played louder. Simon sits, fidgety, gloved hands moving in and out of fists as he watches you cut into your food and eat it with a blank face. He huffs beside you, his armor stiffening as he sits up straight, and you let your fork clatter onto your plate as you turn to glare at him.
“You were thinking with your cock, Simon,” you spit. “That is how men like you get killed.”
“You ‘ave no idea how men like me get killed because there are no men like me,” Simon growls. You roll your eyes, standing, and he grips your wrist angrily, tugging you close until you fall into his lap. You sigh, shaking your head, putting your hands on his broad shoulders and making him look at you.
“Maybe,” you whisper. “But I’m not wrong. It is how you’ll lose. You know better than that, Simon. To fight someone because they taunted you in a letter, it’s playing the fool.” You cup his cheeks, keeping his eyes on yours. “You don’t need me to tell you that, and yet here we are.”
He breathes slow, closing his eyes for just a moment. He thinks he came for this, just a little. For clarity. Reason. It comes from you in waves, and it’s comforting to hear. It is something he knew, and yet it only makes sense now that you have said it.
“I know,” Simon mutters. “I know. Y’r right. I’m sorry, luv.”
You ask him to apologize when he undresses you. You ask him to apologize again when he sinks into a hot bath with you. You ask him a third time when he is in your bed, a heavy weight between your thighs as he licks and sucks at the soft skin of your tummy. He begs, lowly, let me ‘ave it, and you will, but he has to say he’s sorry again.
“‘m sorry,” he breathes, sucking on your inner thigh, and you close your thighs around his head, forcing his mouth against your cunt.
“Again, Simon,” you whisper. “I wanna hear it again.”
“‘m sorry,” he slides a rough tongue between your folds, breathing shakily when he tastes the oil that he smoothed over your skin only moments ago. You taste so good, you smell so lovely, coming off of you like fumes blinding his senses so that nothing else but you makes any sense at all. When you open your eyes, you think about where you are, and you nearly come thinking about what you have wrapped around your finger.
Not even your king tells your husband what to do. Not even your king commands his men, they won’t listen, he’s not who they turn to when things go belly-up, it’s your husband, and your husband answers to you.
You weren’t sure about it until today. Seeing him when you asked him to come, it flooded you with something that hurt. You could tell from even so far away that Simon was salivating under that mask. You knew the only thing separating his mouth from your cunt were the other people around him (and they were not privy to seeing you naked).
It is such a thing to observe. John needed a lead on Simon when he was his dog. You need no such mechanism. Simon never strays, not with you. He sits proper when you ask, and he speaks when spoken to. He tears at unwanted flesh, and he comes when you call.
John cannot give him all that he desires. Perhaps he thought what Simon truly wanted was fame and fortune. Legacy. But like most things men do, John does not observe. He takes in only what is right in front of him, and he makes assumptions. Simon is not like other men. Fame and fortune do not matter. He does not care about legacy. What matters to Simon is what he can hold in his hands. The ground under his feet. The steel in his hand. The woman underneath him, spreading her legs, inviting him in.
You love Simon. You love Simon more than anything in the entire world, but it would be a lie to say that you are not at some advantage here. Simon is all-consuming. He is the pinnacle of duty and honor and everything that a man is supposed to be, but Simon is also weak. There is something that he wanted more than anything in the world, and now that he has it, he will do anything to keep it, and that makes him vulnerable. Subject to all kinds of new things. Revenge. Retaliation. Pain.
Manipulation.
Maybe you should feel bad about it. Maybe you should feel guilty, but it’s hard to feel anything like it when there’s a big bear of a man between your thighs slobbering on your pussy like dessert. It’s hard to feel anything but bliss when he’s tracing the letters of his name into your cunt and making you see stars and fucking you into the silk sheets like it’s the last time he’ll ever have you.
It is men who govern your world, and if this is how you must move in it, then so be it. You will not feel bad. You will not be sorry for doing what anyone else would do. John thought he could keep his hand there, muzzle his mutt, but you like him this way, and you’re certain John doesn’t fuck the way you do.
He’s mine.
It isn’t John that commands an army, it’s you; or maybe your cunt, but that belongs to you, too, so it is you, isn’t it? You’re the one that lets him inside, that whispers in his ear, that tells him things you know he wants to hear to make things move in your favor, so it’s you, right?
Not John. Not Victoria. Not their counsel. You. They have stepped on you your entire life. They have made you small and inferior and sad for all of your existence, and they gave you something feral knowing it could eat you alive, and now you are the hand that feeds, and they are forgetting that if they bite too hard, you have something that will surely bite harder.
A collar would suit him, you think. He would look so pretty. He already is, the terrible beast, prettiest thing you’ve ever seen (the necklace your drape over him does just fine, a pendant with his motif that you hope reminds him of you). You don’t care if people would say his face is quite ugly. It is, very much so, but you never see him this way. Whenever that mask falls, your stomach flips. He takes your breath away. His intensity, his raw form of love, the look on his face–there is nothing else in the entire world that will love you the way he loves you.
“You came back for me?” You ask. You have a leg tangled between his, and his fingers are between your thighs, a shadow of a smirk on his face as he feels the mixture of your cum and his. He grunts a little, and you tilt your head to look up at him, your chin on his chest.
“‘f course,” Simon mutters, and you kiss his chest gently, keeping your eyes on his.
“But not for John.”
He turns his head, looking down at you more intently, and he scoffs. You know it’s true, but you want to hear it, anyways. You want to hear Simon admit, unknowingly, that you are the tether.
“John is afraid, and I don’t listen to ‘im when he’s afraid. Makes bad choices.”
It’s almost adorable that this is what Simon tells himself. That he comes back for his own sake, and not for yours, even though they are one and the same, intertwined and inseparable.
“Simon,” you say softly, and he sighs, his eyes closing briefly when you kiss him gently. “You have to listen to your king when he asks you to come back. Making a…rash decision about war strategy is one thing, but…” You cup his cheek gently. “Make things easier for me, husband. If he asks you to come back, you come back.”
This time, at least. Just this time.
Simon snarls a bit, but you swallow it when you kiss him. You maneuver yourself over him, straddling his hips, and he grunts as you sink down on him. He swells hard again very quickly, releasing a deep breath as you give a slow roll of your hips.
“Make things easy for me, my love,” you whisper, and he leans his head back, putting two big hands on your ass and moving you with ease. “Appease your king, yes? For me?”
“Can’t say no when y’r pussy squeezes me like tha’, sweet’eart,” Simon groans, and you giggle, planting your hands on his chest and starting to move a little faster. You lean your head back, your mouth falling open, and you gasp when you sink down completely, your ass touching his thick thighs as you tighten around him. “Fuckin’ Christ–”
“I hate when you go,” you whine, digging your nails into his chest. He hisses, planting his feet on the bed, and he fucks up into you with a renewed fervor. “Hate when you’re not here, Simon, I-I miss you, miss this–”
“Nghh…fuck, I know,” Simon pants. “Can feel it. Feel you.” You squeal when he grips you by the waist and turns you over. He makes it seem so easy, tossing your weight underneath him, and your arms circle around his neck as you draw him closer, hanging onto him. “Y’r so fuckin’ pretty…”
“Simon–”
He kisses to devour. His jaw hinges wide to kiss you sloppy, breathing in the moans that you can’t contain. Simon always fucks so well, stretching your thighs as wide as they will accommodate so he can make room for the goliath of himself that he is. He suffocates, in a good way, and his cock never fails to stretch you for all that you are worth. Simon holds your jaw in place as he grinds into you, relishing in the wet smack of his hips against yours. The fat of you satisfies him. It makes him growl with delight when he grabs onto wide hips, your fat arse, the body that you hold that tells him you are fed and warm and content. It draws his grin wider, and it makes him drool thinking about having you again and again and again, until you beg him for reprieve and his heir sits in your womb.
Simon fucks for sport. He wants to see how stupid he can make you. He wants to know how long you’ll cry for, how fat he can make your tears. He wants to know how loud you will cry, how many times he can make you cum before you’re incoherent, he wants to know the extent to which he can use you that you will still be awake enough to say his name just one more time. Simon is not satisfied until he pushes your limits.
It is what a Riley does. They endure, and they eat, and they consume, and they take pleasure in the all-encompassing indulgement of things they have never been allowed to have. You are a woman, so he knows this will come easy for you. So often, he knows, women are not allowed to indulge at all, so he wants you to. He wants you to cry and moan and eat, and he wants you to do it bearing his name so that no one will ever tell you no.
Simon says no to kings, and they placate, or they die. His wife will be offered the same respect, and he’ll stand behind her with a sword to make it law. When you bear his children, he will expect the same of them–to give their mother utter devotion, lest they answer to his hand. There is no one above you, not God, not country, and certainly not blood. They will know what their father did to have you, and they will spill the same amount of blood to keep it that way. They will do it for you, and then they will do it for their own lovers, and if they don’t have the same sentiments, that love is not true, and Simon will not give his blessing.
Everything else is trivial. He knows this, understands it, because history repeats itself. It is cyclical, and you are right. Kings come and go. Sons die to other sons, fathers make bad decisions, and crowns are passed to bastards and back again, until lineage is merely spectacle and power changes hands often enough to lose generational merit. There is one thing that remains, and it is what you do while you are on earth, while you are standing on the ground you were born on. Even faiths change; when men find it suitable, they change the rules, and then you worship a different God, so Simon sees no point in staying loyal to any of it.
Instead, he is true to what he knows. To what he can see and what he can feel. With John, he remembers being a young man, fighting alongside him. He follows John, to an extent, because he knows what it is like to share blood with him on a muddy hill and take an arrow for him.
With you, time stands still. He saw you in a room, and he had to have you, and he brought nations to ruin to make certain no one would bat an eye when he asked for your hand. He saw you in a dream, too–he saw you laying in his bed of furs, wearing nothing but a tiara of his making, wet between the thighs because that is how it’s meant to be. He recognized you when he saw you that first time, and he doesn’t know how, but saying no to you, really saying no, will change that vision, and he couldn’t bear that.
Your voice echoes. You’re moaning, overstimulated, but he doesn’t stop. The hair around his cock rubs your clit too many times, and when you come around him, you’re a shaking, withering thing, back bowed and nipples pebbled. Your toes curl as you cry from the starry-eyed, hot pleasure, but he keeps moving, chasing something in the distance that he can taste, so close.
Yes, Simon ignored his king. Yes, Simon did not ignore you. Yes, Simon admits, he came when you called, and he doesn’t feel bad about it, he doesn’t care how it seems. He would do it again if he had the chance. John could give him the same answer as you in every timeline, but he will only move if the command comes from you, and yes, Simon knows it makes him a liability, but crowns come with costs, and this is the one John must pay.
Simon will fight any of John’s enemies, but he won’t fight fate. He won’t fight what has already been seen, and he won’t fight what he already knows will happen.
With Simon’s cock in your mouth, you can make him deliver on promises. Sucking on the girth of him, you can make him an honest man. Taking inside of your mouth what you can swallow, you can make Simon do your bidding, and it is a hard lesson that John learns.
“Do this for me,” you slobber against the underside of his cock, and Simon relents.
“Make me happy,” you say, swirling your fingers against your puffy pussy, and Simon kneels with an open mouth.
“Just this once,” you whisper with his cum on your tongue, and Simon seals his choice with his hands on your tits and the taste of himself in his mouth.
When you make eyes with John across the low lights of the throne room, he can’t help the way he admires you. You stand beside Simon, looking the essence of nobility and reverence in another intricate silver and blue dress. The train of your skirt glitters with delicate jewels hand sewn into the fabric, and the headpiece you wear adorns a skull insignia. Your corset has been tied just right, thanks to Simon’s hand, and your own fingers are clasped between his. Your corset and jewels are of exquisite detail–one of the newest designs from Paris, structured and elegant and accentuating every curve of soft skin.
You glow in the room. His wife must be wearing a dress just as expensive, probably more, and yet his eyes (and everyone else’s) cannot help but follow you. Your own eyes won’t leave Simon; you flutter your lashes whenever he looks down at you, big smile on your face, and even when there are people curtsying and bowing to you and giving Simon their gratitude between bites of cake and glugs of wine, your attention never really strays.
John feels inadequate in his own fortress; suddenly, red and gold sicken him, and England tastes sour in his mouth.
In a few generations, John’s house will likely fall. He will make heirs that will fail him, he knows this. In a few centuries, his family will not sit in the same place, but a Riley will remain right where they are supposed to be. Banners of blue and silver will always fly. If Simon does not make sure of that, then you will.
It’s what happens when you force women like you to their knees. When they grow up invisible, always in the shadows, forgotten and sold to the next man who will pay a higher price, it’s what you learned to do. It’s all you’ve ever known, to make the best out of something terrible.
Simon is the same, in that sense. You understand him in a way his king will never be able to. Simon has nothing, and neither do you, and Simon was stepped on and berated and tortured to the point of no return. It is why blood does not scare him and why death doesn’t come knocking. Time will be the only thing capable of killing him, and everyone that stands up to him learns that when they eat his blade.
In the quiet of the evening, Simon undresses you. He sits behind you on the bed, fingers pinching the bows at your back and unraveling them. He traces your corset, thumb circling over the skull pattern of the belt around the small of your waist, and he tastes something warm in his mouth at the sight of it. You look so beautiful–more beautiful than he’s ever seen you maybe, decorated in his colors and wearing his motif and sitting so pretty.
“You wanna know something…funny?” You ask quietly. Simon finds the ties of your skirts and starts to undo them. He grunts in reply; he might sound standoffish, but you know he’s listening. “John…John made it…he makes it seem like you don’t really listen to him. He implied that…in the face of adversity, you might only listen to me.” You put your hands on the front of your corset to keep it from falling. “Isn’t that funny?”
“Wot’s so funny?”
You swallow, looking down. Your hands fidget, and you take a closer look at the ring you wear, the delicate gold band he gave you not so long ago.
“I…”
“Mmm…might be right, innit?” Simon snickers after a moment. You feel him stand, and you look over your shoulder as he peels his mask off and grins down at you. He tilts his head to the side, and you smile back at him a little. “Do anythin’ for ya. Disobeying a king…” Simon cackles, tearing your corset off, tossing it onto the floor as he walks you backwards. “Ignoring one…” He shrugs, “Oll in a day, love.”
“He can hang you for it,” you whisper. “Cut off your head. Cut off mine.”
Simon lays you back on the bed, spreading you out, climbing over you. You blink up at him, and he leans down, pressing his forehead to yours.
“I would ‘ave seen it. I would know.”
He would have seen it in a dream. It would have come to him in a reflection in a pool of blood on the battlefield. It would have come to him, the voices in his head, he would have heard them amongst screaming, or perhaps in the void that he finds his mind in when he’s between your plush thighs.
You can’t help the smile that graces your face when Simon kisses the curve where your jaw meets your neck. It is fun, you suppose. Fun to control the tides that set the courses of history. It is fun and almost unbelievable that a king bends to the will of one man’s wife just because it solidifies his name.
You wrap your hand around the twine that dangles from Simon’s neck. It twirls around your fingers, easy, solid. Simon’s eyes are dark, and they are yours, and when you smile, so does he, because this is where you are meant to be, forever and always.
“What if I want more?” You ask. Simon hums, low from within his chest, and you run your tongue over your teeth. “Did you see that in your dreams, Simon? Hmm? Do you know what I’m asking for? What it is that I really want?”
Simon smiles. A dark one, with teeth, and you know he hears it. What more means for a duke and his duchess. What more means when you have all the money you could ever want, all the land you could ever need.
What more means when you have climbed your way to the top and still desire more. More, more, more. There are not many steps left to climb. There are not many places left to take, not much more of the world that can really be yours, but Simon looks ravenous, and Simon looks hungry, and if you fuck him now, you’ll have him right where you want him.
When you tug on what hangs around his neck, Simon bends. Simon follows.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#dark!ghost#dark!simon
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ೀ spoiled. ( part one )
📞🕯️🎀 ₊˚⊹♡ “ baby , can you call me back ? i miss you … it’s so lonely in my mansion … “ 🧸🪽🍬
pairing: ellie williams x rich fem!reader
synopsis: the mansion you live in is getting too cold , the silence is way too silent , and not even reruns of sex & the city can help … long story short , you’re feeling lonely . wonder if you can think of someone in your contacts that can help and warm you up , a certain classmate perhaps ?
warnings: girly reader , kind of desperate loser ellie , bratty spoiled rich reader so don't read if that annoys you , allusion to smut , actual smut will be in the second chapter , this is dirty so mdni as usual !
an: i wrote this such a long time ago and it wasn't supposed to be two parts but well now it is !! i will start writing the second part if u guys want to so don't be shy in my inbox. not proofread unfortunately ♡
A perfectly manicured hand rests on the fluffy white and silky smooth duvet. the Egyptian cotton, to be exact, is nothing but lavish, a sanctuary of indulgence in the realm of your own private luxury. Then, you tap your nails atop it, and the fabric crinkles. You gently sigh, but it's more so a grumble, and reach over for the ‘Dunkin’ cup standing on your wooden bedside table. It perfectly matches every single one of the furniture in your extravaganza of a walk in closet, and the bed-frame as well. You take a slow, indulgent sip out of the icy cold drink, take an ice cube out with a straw, and gently suckle on it. You place the drink back on the table, shifting your gaze back over to the flat screen television.
Carrie forgave Mr. Big again, and now she’s seen frantically pacing around the streets of New York City in her shiny Manolo Blahniks. You arch your brows, humming in high pitched amusement. you have the exact same pair!
Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda always seem to bring you a sense of comfort. Usually, your bed brings you a sense of comfort as well, and so does an icy drink with specifically eight cubes of ice. Your room smells like French vanilla, a tinge of cinnamon, and the sweetest pie you’ve never learned how to bake. Most of the time, you’d bask in the scent and feel nice, and cosy, and your nose would scrunch and your nostrils would flare out, then you’d open your favorite food delivery app and order a nice ol’ package of nine chocolate chip cookies. Then, you’d pop open a bottle of champagne and indulge yourself in the sweets deliciousness.
But your appetite is less existent than snow in the middle of August.
You’re also freezing cold, fuzzy socks and all — goosebumps rising on your skin and feeling sharp like Japanese knives.
Your best friend of a white home cat, Toodle, elegantly extends his supple frame, his lithe form gracefully ascending to nestle within the cradle of your neck. His bell gently dingles, he yawns and mellifluously meows. Right now, it sounds more like an old mans groan.
“I know, Toots… m’bored too. And cold, Jesus…” you mutter towards Toodles, who, in his usual aloof manner, closes his eyes and surrenders to the soothing hum of his purring. You puff some air out of your mouth, brain wheels turning as to find out what’s the cause of this blue mood. The air conditioning is completely turned off, you’re sure of it, and the fireplace crackles with warmth. Your entire moisturized body is covered up by a ridiculously expensive thick blanket, and it’s not the short VS nightie that makes you feel freezing, you’re convinced of that. For some reason, the frosty sensation persists. You smack your lip-glossed lips before bumping your head against your mountain of pillows, emitting a low grunt of exasperation.
You don’t know the reason for your boredom, or for this bum mood, because albeit you’ve seen this episode about a gazillion times, it never fails to entertain the shit out of your brain.
Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’re entirely alone (except for Toddles, of course, can't forget him) in a 10,000 square feet mansion. or perhaps it’s because the only lit room inside the mansion is your own.
But then you roll your eyes, because your parents are always away (at St. Tropez this time), so feeling alone isn’t a new and strange concept.
Alas, being alone isn’t the same as being lonely.
Your face twists at the depressing thought, ew. You’re not lonely, just… bored, and unamused, and the icy drink isn’t sweet enough and Carrie’s getting on your last nerve, and the 1,000 dollar blanket is starting to itch the hell out of your hyper-sensitive skin.
Which is why you get up from the bed in a moment of eureka, landing your feet against the fuzzy carpet and slide them into your Ugg’s. “Uh huh!” you chirp, you finally got it.
You’re experiencing an old friend of a feeling called (drumroll…) — anxiety, over your unfinished chem project! It must have masked itself in the form of frigidness and discomfort and loneliness.
But the project isn’t even due till next week, and you rarely get stressed over college stuff unless they’re due the next day and you’re sitting, staring down at your laptop screen, trying to communicate with it through telepathy or something of that sort.
Somaybeit’snotanxiety and maybeyou’rejustloney.
You shake away that uneasy and irritating thought, and sit your pretty butt down on the rolling chair. You click your shiny glittery pen (that always sheds some glitter onto your hand) and open up the thick as brick textbook.
You read the first question out loud.
The correct formula for aluminum nitrate is…
Valentino’s Lòco Toile Iconographe shoulder bag in hot pink?
Nope.
You shake your head, you have got to focus. You place your chin atop your palm and click the pen once more.
Al(NO2)3? or maybe it’s Al(NO3)3…
or maybe you’re so far off you need to close the book shut and throw it out of the window. You’ve always sucked at chemistry.
Which is why you were assigned to be tutored by that auburn haired, green eyed, slightly sullen, tatted up girl who went by "Ellie" — or "El", but you didn't know her like that.
Ellie, is the one who stuttered out your name as she realized you weren’t paying attention to her tutoring, as you had your gaze fixated on the black ink etched on her forearm, a half-covered flannel and a canvas of delicate veins. A bug, adorned with intricate botanical details, unfurled its wings across her skin.
“S’uh… A moth, with ferns around it n’stuff. It’s kind of faded now though”
Her voice was raspy and husky, and she stuttered out your name. Usually, you’d hate it when people got nervous around you. It made you feel odd, ostracized, and you always insisted — you were so damn sweet, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You wore sweet perfume, sweet as goddamn cherries and cupcakes, and your voice was soft and you always smiled brightly, and so what if your purse cost more than a college tuition?
But her nerves didn’t annoy you. In fact, you found them charming, and you found her sweet. You found that all of her “Uhhh” ‘s, and her “Mhhm” ‘s, all of her stammering and her lack of ability to keep eye contact with you to be… infatuating.
Then there was that rich voice, and those eyes, that smile, those hands, those damn toned arms, those biceps and the haircut, the way two short strands of hair always framed her face perfectly and her scent — that you could tell was just a cheap cologne, but mixed with her unique fragrance, proved nothing short of intoxicating.
It was also the fact that she seemed to damn know everything — and that she was always ahead of you, and that her face always bore that coy little smirk when you got a question wrong (which you seemed to get more often than not), and that she would grab your Swarovski pen out of your hand and scribble down the answer for you, just to explain it in detail later.
The way she licked over her bottom lip and bit as wrote down.
With her long fingers and all.
When she spoke, her breath smelled of mint and the faintest tinge of weed, which made you think of how lovely it must be to be able to transform into a damn joint just so she could place you in her mouth and suck —
now you’re sticky, and god now you really are distracted, and not by a cute purse or the sound of rain pouring down on your window. Toodles stretches his tiny limbs and you hear his bell faintly dingle again. He climbs down from your princess bed and jumps up to sit at your lap. You caress down his white fur and he purrs.
You wonder if Ellie likes cats.
You know she likes pussy.
You have got to get a grip.
You massage your temples, attempting to focus on the written down questions again, but the words and the numbers seem to mix into a cacophony of odd symbols and letters, and you’re still so goddamn cold.
Albeit your eyelids droop down slowly, eyes spazzing out of focus, the assignment must be done today.
“Just, finish the damn work and go to sleep. Yup.” You mumble to yourself, a habit you picked up as a result of being alone for most of your childhood, and having to opt for the help of imaginary friends to keep you comfort. Alas, you’re older now and only have yourself to talk to.
You try and follow your command.
The problem is, you don’t know jack shit.
You wish Ellie was here, with her hair sticking to her forehead and your pen in her hand and her old chuck’s glued to her feet, as she sits down on the spare chair aside you with her jaw resting on her knees.
You wish you could hear her faint chuckle as you get another question wrong.
As a tutor, of course.
Not even as a friend, because she’s not.
Definitely not as a lover, obviously, because that would truly be so far fetched from reality — although… right now, you can’t help but think of the way her eyes fall down to your chest as a crimson blush creeps up her cheeks.
And you keep thinking about the time you purposely let your bra strap cascade down your shoulder, just because you wondered how she’d react — Which was with averting her gaze to the side and clearing her throat. Now you think of the time you wore an extra short mini skirt, not that different from the rest of them although a bit tinier, and how you kept rubbing your thighs together just to see whether she’d notice or not, which she did…
You groan and slap your palm against your forehead.
Then, you stare at another question and then at your phone. Toodles chimes in with a high-pitched meow.
“Oh my gosh Toots, so true! I should text her the questions, duh”
You’re not delusional at all, by the way.
So you send her your address.
In the meantime, you make sure your studying environment and your room are as tidy as possible. You grab your sparkly pink pen and place it near the textbook, and you grab a matte black pen for Ellie as well, a thoughtful gesture.
You also apply some strawberry scented moisturizer on your body, and spray your sickly sweet perfume on your pule points.
You slip your feet out of your slippers, and you wear your favorite heels. However, you keep your little nightie on. You’re supposed to feel comfortable, this is your house after all, and the heels — are just a courtesy, you are expecting company, and opening the front door with house slippers is entirely rude, and the silky robe… It’s long enough and proper. Ish.
You stare at your reflection down the mirror, and for some reason, you feel utterly nervous. You’re all dolled up for a person who isn’t a stranger, but who also isn’t a friend. When you coat your lips with some minty gloss, Toodles stretches his tail upwards and meows.
“Psh. Do not judge me, Toots. This is normal, I do this all the time”
Which again is a total and complete white lie, because if it was a regular friend coming over, you wouldn’t have even bothered to fix up your makeup, and you’d barely even get up from the comfort of your own bed.
As a matter of fact, not many people come by your house at all. You have your fair share of friends, but you’d much rather hang out by the mall or at one of their mansions, yours always feels just, utterly suffocating — as giant and spacey as it might be. And sure, you’ve had hook ups before, but you always went rigid when they tried to slip past your panties, and you were always… dry, as an autumn leaf.
Ellie makes you feel anything but dry.
Physically — you shake your head and try getting rid of the thought by giving yourself some good old whiplash.
You find yourself pacing around your room, until you manage to cascade downstairs as soon as you hear the bell ring. With each step you take, your heel taps the lavish ceramic pavement.
“Stay”, you gesture towards your fluffy feline companion, who responds with a squinting of his eyes. “Don’t freak out our company”
You look at Ellie’s face from the intercom’s shiny screen. You look at it so hard you nearly forget to press on the button that’s purpose is to let your tutor-guest in. A couple of strands of her auburn bangs stick to her forehead. Ellie scratches her eyes with the back of her hands and she straightens up her spine. As she waits for the gate to open, she puffs some air from her cheeks. She attempts to fix her eyebrows with the tips of her fingers, and seems to be murmuring something underneath her breath.
You’re not the best at lip reading, but your gut tells you she just whispered a “Hi”, and added your name, then — “Hey” adding your name once more.
It’s absolutely impossible for her to not be aware of how stupidly and irritatingly cute she is.
You press on the button and clear your throat. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t practice your greeting in front of a mirror as well. Your robe cascades down your shoulder, you fixate on it and contemplate pulling up the fabric.
Toodles meows once more.
Yup. You should keep it down.
It takes Ellie a good five minutes to walk the full distance from the front gate to your huge white door.
Then she knocks three times on the wood, and you squeak like a mouse although you really were fully prepared.
Your tutor wears a blue flannel with a white undershirt tucked beneath. The first button is opened, revealing a tiny piece of her pale skin. Below, her legs are covered with tight skinny jeans with a tear on the knee (you’re not sure if she fell or if it’s done purposely so), and to your surprise — no Chuck’s, but Doc Martens.
Noted. She has more than one pair of shoes.
When you greet Ellie with a cheerful — yet ever so relieved and breathy “Hi”, you kiss her on the cheek like you do all of your friends, and you can smell that cheap cologne again.
Amber, citrus, musk, lavender.
There’s a hint of actual Ellie in the mix as well — smoke, herbs, sweat… did she run here?
When you hug Ellie you focus on her scent.
When you hug Ellie she focuses on absofuckinglutely nothing — Her body goes rigid and stiff and she doesn’t hug you back until two way too long seconds pass, and she finally manages to place her hand on your waist.
But she doesn’t hug or squeeze, she rests it there.
Then she coughs.
“Hey”
You take a step back and you can tell she’s a bit flushed, or flustered — but you take it as her just running. You lean your hand against one of the thick pillars. Her orbs travel frantically from your eyes down to your… legs, that are completely bare and smooth and shiny, then they run down to your feet, which are covered with heels…
You think she might say something about it, about you, how ridiculous you look, so you’re washed up with self consciousness and shyness which is something you rarely get to feel, unless you’re with that damn girl for some reason.
Then her eyes hyper-focus on… the ceiling?
You grant Ellie a half smile and you really yearn to break the silence — but she’s ahead of you. Again.
“It’s… you have a really high ceiling” she says, then immediately glues her eyes on to the floor.
“Uh, shiny floor…” she chuckles so freaking awkwardly, grazing the bottom of her left legs doc’s on the floor so it squeaks. Immediately, Ellie apologizes.
“Shit, sorry, my shoes fuckin’ muddy. I uh, ran here”
You gingerly smile and furrow your brows. You theory has been proven correct. “You ran?”
“Walked, like, not ran ran”
There’s the tiniest droplet of sweat on Ellie’s forehead, which she wipe’s swiftly and clumsily with the back of her hand when she notices your eyes scan it. Oh, she ran ran alright. You do feel a little bad, picturing Ellie’s shoes hitting below her ass as she runs through the streets of your city, with a packed and awfully heavy mauve backpack — smacking against her back with every step she takes. You almost pout, you’re still leaning against the pillar and you smack your lips together — gloss and all, out of habit.
“Could’a given you a ride, y’know” you light sweetly. Ellie’s scarred eyebrow arches up in response. “You have a license?”
You so want to shove her shoulder playfully, but you’re convinced it’ll make her go absolutely rigid again. Physical contact bricks her up — noted.
“Why is that such a surprise?” you flash her a teasing smile. She smiles back at you.
“S’just, thought you’d have a personal driver. Can’t really imagine you driving that monster of a Rover back there —“
You nod in complete amusement. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” Ellie teases, followed by a throaty chuckle. “Plus, took you more of a passenger princess type of girl”
And that sentence shouldn’t make you stutter the way you do next. It shouldn’t, but it does. You back away slowly and Ellie follows your footsteps.
“T-that’s, awfully presumptuous” you chirp. Her boots stomp on the floor and your heels click clack. “Plus, I don’t drive that Rover. My car’s in the garage with the rest of ‘em” you say matter-of-factly.
Ellie scoffs impishly behind you. You walk up the stairs and she follows suit. She’s confident when she teases, you think, which is a tad different than her usual awkward self, but if only you knew she nearly slipped down one of the steps as she noticed the tiniest, delicious, most precious piece of your flesh that was just exposed behind you as a result of your incredibly short nightie.
“Psh, so presumptuous”
As you walk towards your room, Ellie walks behind you although she has more than enough space to walk besides you. You get the feeling that she's nervous, even after her teasing and all, and you don't have to wonder why too much. Your house is huge, intimidating, filled with strange sculptures and paintings by obscure artists regular people have never even heard of. You don't have just one living room, you have three, and in each and every one of them stands a different technology piece of some sort. Also, your heels cost more than her outfit, could be more worth than the entirety of her damn closet, and most importantly — you're walking with a pink robe and some heels on.
When you reach your room, Ellie awkwardly smiles and straightens her muscular back. Then, she holds on to the straps of her backpack.
"First of all" you sigh, and now it's your turn to feel coy. "Thank you for coming over so late. I know it's like, absolutely ridiculous, and you know, you don't get paid for this so...", you flash Ellie an endearing smile, the apples of your cheeks rising sweetly as a humble thank you. "And, second of all... jus'... brace yourself?"
Ellie's brows arch up, but before she has time to ask — oh.
You both step into your lit room. Toodles follows by closely, entering the room as well, whilst rubbing his furry back against Ellie's calves.
"Yup..."
Ellie's fingers instinctively clasp onto the straps of her backpack once more, her eyes widening ever so slightly, but she fights to seem as unsurprised as she can — she fails miserably, because she gasps a little.
Your room is nothing but a... cotton candy dream world. A wall that's painted in pretty dusty pink, a princess bed that's nothing but a regal centerpiece. Above the bed, a canopy of gossamer silk drapes from a custom-crafted wrought iron frame, And the final sophisticated touch, a grand crystal chandelier, suspended from the ceiling. There are also clothes everywhere, empty water bottles, used sheet masks, a stack of books — some half-read, others forgotten, teetered precariously on a random corner. Ellie sticks out like a sore thumb. She stands out like a neon sign in a library, a skateboard at a black-tie gala.
You like it.
She clears her throat, stepping further into your room. "I take it black is your favorite color?" she titters sarcastically.
You giggle.
"Mhm, also I'm clearly very organized, and I hate clothes" you murmur and point out the pile of dresses haphazardly bunched in the corner of your room.
She should feel out of place. She should probably laugh, even sneak a pic — tell all her "cool" friends about how mindblowingly ridiculous the prissy rich girls room is. Instead, she thinks about how cute you must look cuddled up in a bed this big, how adorable it'd be to see your bed-head poking through the sheets at 8am, how sweet it must be to watch you skip around your room, trying on your shitload of clothes, throwing them in the air and huffing like a medieval brat of a princess. She wants to place a fucking tiara on your head. She sees your sticker collection from the corner of her eye, your vinyls, your candles, your crystals and Toodles' sofa.
And she likes it.
You take a deep breath. You shouldn't even care if she likes it or not, you shouldn't be bothered by it at all — you rarely are, but something inside of you yearns for... something.
"It suits you" she murmurs.
And that's certainly good enough, because it does.
You gesture Ellie to sit on the rolling chair next to yours, and her eyes still roam over the space of your room. “My room looks exactly the same, by the way… same uh, size too… n’stuffed animals… Shit, I like the elephant one”, she sarcastically remarks as she sits on the chair and hunches down, manspreading as she often does. Your eyes can’t help but roam down, because her damn thighs flexed under those jorts and you heard her, but you also kind of didn’t.
Ellie clears her throat and narrows her eyes. Jheez, she thinks, you must be absolutely exhausted since your eyes don’t seem to be able to focus.
“Huh?” you say, startled. You’re still standing up on those heels. Ellie sniffles and chuckles and her voice goes all quiet.
“Said pink nauseates me, that I hate those stuffed animals and that your elephant doll’s ugly as shit”
You roll your eyes and your tongue swipes over your glossy bottom lip. You bite it and you sit down on the chair. Ellie’s eyes scan over your chest and she averts her gaze like a deer caught in headlights.
“Hate you, chem tutor” you huff, resting your head on the palm of your hand. Ellie doesn’t maintain a second of eye contact but she chuckles and it’s cocky.
“You need me, and you need an A in chemistry”
You like that side of her.
You let your eyes blink lazily at her, a cheeky little smirk forming on your lips. When you open your mouth again, just to smack it on your glossy lips, you brush your leg ‘accidentally’ against hers, and rigid she goes. “Mhm, I definitely need you, Ellie…”
The apples of Ellie’s cheek shine in bright crimson and her hand flexes. She grabs her pen and clicks on it once. You didn’t mean it like that, she so obviously knows or believes, but it matters nonetheless. You like that side of her so much more.
You cross your pretty legs and let the tip of your heel graze her chair. “So, you want a drink before we start studying?”, you’re way too damn close, she nods — but she doesn’t need a ‘drink’ she needs a damn water fountain that directly flows onto her mouth and satisfies that damn drench. Is it possible for her damn knee to feel hot? Why is her knee feeling hot?
“Anything specific?”
“Jus’ waters fine” Ellie manages to murmur, lips forming a teeny tiny, shy, crescent smile.
“I was thinking more… like, wine? I have a wine cooler n’my room… if you wanted water i’d have to like, go downstairs and… It’s so lonely in there” your voice is saccharine, delicate, and it and coaxes Ellie’s mind.
“Wine’s perfect, I love wine” says Ellie.
She hates wine.
“Mhm, red or white?” — Your question comes when you lift your butt off the chair and walk slowly towards the cooler.
“Uh, r-red. S’much… richer” Ellie falters, remembering vaguely the time Joel had mentioned white wine’s for pussies. When she tried a red one, she gagged.
“Impressive” you note.
Ellie rolls the chair with the help of her heavy Doc's, and watches as you pour the red liquid into two delicate glasses. Your leg, she notices, is clad with a shiny, delicate golden piece of jewelry. Her eyes scan upwards, towards your bare thighs — the flesh is glistening, almost appearing as if it's covered with oil. Her mind drifts elsewhere, to a world in which your nightie is nothing but nonexistent, and those thighs...
Her stomach grumbles, she firmly holds onto it. Why NOW.
"Hungry?" you place the glass on the table, slightly nudging it towards Ellie.
She's starving.
you flash her a devilish smirk, cocking your head to the side.
"Oh, uhh... nope"
Famished.
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie smut#ellie williams#tlou smut#wlw smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams x femme reader
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haikyuu pu$$y eaters
mhm. yup
(a special little thanks to @touyangel and her little osamu drabble, it was sooo good and we all know he’s top 5 for sure)
part two for your viewing pleasure: <3
1) bokuto. YOU CANT TELL ME SHIT HES #1. boy’s hella enthusiastic and eager to please. def the type to not stop until HE’S ready for you to be done. his favorite saying is always —“you can give me more right? just one more, you taste so good it’s hard to stop” and it’s never JUST one more he’s sloppy and messy but makes sure he cleans you up the best and only way he knows wink wink
2) iwaizumi, now hear me out. he’s so strategic w his shit, he’s done it so many times he swears he knows your body like the back of his hand and he never gets tired of it. hearing the way your voice moans his name as he sucks harshly on your clit will do it for him every. single. time. he def eats you out as a stress reliever, it’s something about your thighs wrapped around his head and your hands pulling at his hair that makes him forget why he was stressed in the first place.
3) tendouu. deserved honestly, he’s kinda like bokuto in a way, but this man will edge you to no end. he love love loves building you up just to hear you cry and beg for him to make you cum, it’s all a game to him and you’re his favorite piece of the game. loves fingering you more than anything and seeing you take his fingers so well and being coated w ur slick?? makes him never wanna stop — “you’re so cute it almost makes me feel a little sorry. you wanna cum on my tongue that bad? huh sweetheart? then beg me.”
4) osamu. 4 words: sit. on. his. face. loves it best when you’re grinding on his face, using him like he so desperately craves. whenever you lift up to get off, his arms are wrapped around your thighs to yank you right back down, he’ll let you know when he’s finished and it’s never on your time, only his. but i mean you can’t blame him, mans got a big appetite he could be there all night if you’d let him.
5) suna…. i hate to admit but mans got skill…he’s a lil teasing shit but he’s got skill. he always pays attention to every little detail. oh your grip in his hair got a little tighter when his finger grazed that one spot? ok. he’ll graze it again and two times more after that. your breath hitched after the way he sucked your clit? guess where he’s spending most of his attention. this man loves looking at you and forcing you to try your best to look at him, he’s always saying — “keep those eyes on me or else I’ll stop” and he will one look from his eyes alone can make you come undone in seconds, they’re just too much sometimes.
HONORABLE MENTIONS: sugawara koushi. (my man my man my man), akaashi aka mr. pretty fingers, kenma (i can and will go into detail), sakusa (this man.), aran.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut#suna smut#osamu smut#iwaizumi smut#tendou smut#bokuto smut#suna rintaro x reader#haikyuu osamu#iwaizumi x reader#bokuto x reader#tendou x reader
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what if u get a scratch and vampire ellie smells u from a mile away and she’s so desperate to have your blood that she lures you into her house and begs you for just a little taste. she whines and apologizes over and over again for being so needy while drinking your blood.
no smut. but suggestive! doc version included
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ oohhhh.. literally loser!vampire!ellie. the layout would be reader who's ultimate best friends with her; long time childhood friends potentially? and, let's also exercise the chance that ellie was fortunate enough to keep her vampirism veiled from your knowledge all this time. (if edward cullen could, she can too.) so, on one superficially mundane day near the woods where you happen to break skin by means i will leave up to individual imagination, ellie just so happens to be a mile away - returning home after a hunt proved to be in vain (girl had to feed bad but was way too delirious to concentrate.) - so, what transpires when she picks up the familiar scent of her beloved friends blood, an aroma commonly encountered, but always ignored despite her bloodstained appetite? yield.
"hey, my cars' just by the curb there. can give you a ride back to my place, patch that scratch up. 'ts not a big deal."
strange for her to utter that - it's not a big deal, when your puny little scratch is incapable of even irritating you that bad, but ellie insists, softly. what she omitted, is exactly what will happen between plopping on her bed and actually plastering a band-aid on that scratch. blood was drawn, crimson had dripped, and nothing goes off without a hitch when a voracious vamp meets the nectar of life, nothing. "you don't have to look— just, let me, please? again, i'm so sorry for asking." her voice withered and apologetic, a breathy and sedated mess with her fingers twiddling and twining with yours, sat adjacent to you just looking so so guilty for even bringing the topic up; vex with herself that she couldn't ignore it, like all the other past instances. "ellie, i— ugh, okay. if it's only a little.." and— that reply of sanction should excite her, god forbid she doesn't have the biggest crush on you, and now she's doing this thing viewed as intimate by some of her peers? but she can't help but feel.. sorrowfully faulted at first.
she drags her lips over the nub of your wrist before she separates them and bares her pretty teeth, poking your skin in little dints. vampiric foreplay. "you do this with every girl?" and you say it earnestly, yet with a light heart. no ill will bending in your tone nor intention. yet vulnerability casts a pall over ellie right now, taking blood from the one she can't keep her damn desires off, "i don't— i don't, no, fuck.. never, you're the only one so far." she mumbles, withdrawing her teeth a moment to spew that recital of apologies "so fuckin' sorry, please don't watch me. i just need.. just need—" she's literally so ashamed of her vehement needs for your taste, she can't even complete her sentences, unsheathing her teeth once more and burying them into the flesh by your wrist bone, grunting simultaneously with your pretty little wince.
although it is strange— on the edge of daunting, you managed to muster a fondness for it after a minute or so; the adrenaline rush at first bite, the excess of blood smearing her pale rose lips in a blotchy pattern, sometimes trickling the rise of her chin, those cursedly cute noises she makes during the feed, the fumble of her fingers trying to pull your arm deeper into her mouth like your wrist alone wasn't suitable of quenching, suspending her sucks with a spluttered or breathless, "damn it, sorry, just a little longer." whispered unto the delicate massacre painting your lower forearm— you love it. too much, you love her sudden jump in energy, pinning you on the mattress with her whole body and lodging her knee between your thighs, all while pleasuring you with pain, you fucking adore it. she has to know.
"take all you need, ellie. i don't mind, you can have me all you want, hmm?"
who knows where her mouth ended up next.
MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . IMPORTANT TLOU POST . PALESTINE INFO . BIG TEXT VER
ignore why i wrote sm i did not plan to yap this much apologies if its rushed i am quite tired.
#ellie williams#⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks#vampire!ellie#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie tlou#lesbian#sapphic#ellie x reader#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie williams fic#tlou fanfiction#ellie williams blurb#ellie williams concept#tlou ellie#ellie williams x fem reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x y/n
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forget me not
(kaeya x reader)
he promises to take you out to dinner, but he never shows.
“Would you like to place an order now hon?” The waitress asks softly, making you look from your empty wine glass up to her soft eyes.
“Ah, if I can order another glass of wine that would be nice! I’m still waiting,” you look outside the big window next to you, seeing the sky much darker than when you first sat. “I’m sure he’ll arrive soon.” You turn back to her smiling, repeating the same thing for the fourth time for the past two hours trying to convince yourself more than her that he’ll show up. He always does.
“Of course, I’ll be back with the bottle in just a minute.” She nods, turning to get you more of what you requested.
You don’t remember the last time you drank, heck you don’t even drink much to begin with but it’s all you can do to kill time. You don’t want to eat without him and spoil your appetite, he will show up soon.
You know he’s busy, he’s the Captain of the Knights so it’s expected. When he proposes the idea of going out you couldn’t hide your excitement. Anything to do with Kaeya was your favorite.
You arrived at the restaurant the time he told you to be there, at 7pm. The clock reads 9:30 now but it’s ok, it’s understandable. He’s the captain of the Knights after all.
The lights surrounding the small restaurant eliminates the busy nightlife in Mondstadt. You eye the people who are passing by, smiling at the elderly people who walk with their significant others, the parents holding their children’s hands as their laughter fills the air. But your eye catches something from afar.
The familiar head of blue hair among the people walking by. Your stomach erupts with butterflies seeing him finally. Walking down the stairs to the main shopping area in Mondstadt. But as he inches closer you see he isn’t alone. He’s walking with someone, no. He’s holding onto someone who’s leaning on him.
Your eyes squint a bit, trying to see if what you’re seeing is correct. But you see him smiling with the woman next to him mixed in with everything else and your heart goes heavy.
You see his smile much clearer now that they both are closer, he has his arm hooked around hers, almost as if he is holding her upright to keep her from stumbling and she’s giggling at him, eyes wide looking up at him leaning into him as much as she can.
The two walk past the restaurant and down towards Diluc’s tavern, Kaeya didn’t even glance at the restaurant you were currently sitting in waiting for him. Not once, he kept his eyes on the girl the whole time.
You reach for your pocket watch with a heavy hand and flip it open, seeing the time 9:45 pm. Almost three hours, three whole hours and he’s with someone else. He forgot.
You quickly finish the last of your wine and blink. Did he actually forget?
You wave your waitress down when she passes you, making her stop.
“Actually, can I purchase a whole bottle of wine please?” You ask her and she nods, her smile falling a bit at your expression. Your eyes look glossy.
He promised you a night out after so long. You’ve both been so busy with work this sounded so nice but it was too much to ask for apparently. He had more important matters.
Diluc makes his way down the street to his tavern and spots you sitting alone in the restaurant. Glass of wine in hand and solemn look on your face.
His eyebrows furrow. “Why are they out alone right now?” He thinks.
Part of him wants to stop and check in, but part of him knows to not get into people's business. He doesn’t want to sadden you further by making you talk about it. But if he makes another run in a while and still sees you in there, he'll stop by.
Diluc pushes the door to his tavern open, his eyes fall on Kaeya and Amber helping a woman who is belching into a bag, Amber is rubbing her back and Kaeya is holding napkins for her. This makes Dilucs mouth from the line. ”What's going on?” he thinks.
“I got her from here. I’ll take them Barbara just in case.” Amber helps the woman up to her feet and walks to the door, Diluc holds it open for them.
“Thank you, I'll make sure to check in with Albedo and Jean tomorrow.” Kayea waves her off, eye falling on an unamused looking Diluc.
“Your plus one got sick?” Diluc speaks up, making Kaeya’s smile drop.
“Not my plus one, a subordinate.” Kaeya answers flatly, not even laughing at such a dumb joke.
“Why bring one of your knights here?” Diluc asks, taking his coat off, rolling up his sleeves.
“They were exposed to a potion in Albedo’s lab, he suggested bringing them here. He said grape juice might help sober them up, where else would I go to get it when you sell the best.” Kaeya shrugs, making Diluc hum.
“You’re not drinking?” Diluc raises a brow at Kaeya when he realizes there’s no alcohol in front of the captain.
“Nope, I already feel like I’m forgetting something, if I drink I really won’t remember. I’d rather not.” Kaeya sighs, a looking out the window.
“I saw y/n on the way here.” Diluc brings you up, at the sound of your name Kaeya looks at Diluc again his eye brightens. His focus now is on what Diluc has to say.
“My darling? Did you talk to them? What are they doing out this late?” Kaeya smiles, though he’s confused. You’re never out this late.
“They were in the new restaurant down the street, they were drinking.” Diluc clears his throat at the last part.
Kaeya tilts his head. “Alone? What do you mean by drinking?” Kaeya asks
“They had a glass of wine in their hand, they were sitting alone at-
Kaeya tries to think of why you’d be out so late, you don’t have any appointments this late. You didn't tell him you were meeting anyone. His eye catches the calendar behind Diluc and feels his heart drop when he notices the date.
“What time is it?” Kaeya cuts Diluc off.
Diluc pulls out his pocket watch and sighs. “Just hit 10pm” he shows Kaeya and sees the color drain from his face.
“Oh no.” Kaeya stands up in a flash. Before Diluc can question him he’s out the door.
His legs don’t stop. It’s so dark out and you’re alone. How long have you been waiting?
Kaeya sees the restaurant come into view and sprints faster, throwing the door open the instant his hand makes contact with the knob.
The restaurant goes quiet, the few customers and waiters in there stare at the Captain who seems to be out of breath.
He ignores the stares, his eye scanning the vicinity for one person and one person only.
But it's strange, you're not here. He walks further to the back and sees an empty table with a coat that looks familiar.
He sees a waitress clearing empty wine bottles from it, quickly making his way to your coat.
“Excuse me,” Kaeya greets the older waitress and she smiles at him.
“Hell- Captain Kaeya hello! What brings you here?” the waitress smiles.
“I'm looking for someone. Do you know if the person that was sitting here left?” He asks, seeing the waitress’ smile drop a bit.
“Why yes. They were here for a while but they left not too long ago. They had drank a lot of wine and ordered no food. I offered to walk them home since they seemed a bit off balance but they said it was ok. I realized they left their coat a bit too late. I had gone out to tell them but they were already gone.” She explains, feeling sorry for you.
Kaeya feels his chest tighten.
“Thank you. If you don't mind, can I take the coat with me? I'd like to give it to them myself.” Kaeya asks.
“Why of course how sweet of you.” the waitress nods her head, gesturing with her hands for him to take it.
“Thank you.” He quickly thanks the waitress before turning around.
“Wait.” She calls out, making him turn around.
“If I can bother you to check on them right now, I'm worried. If you do stop over there please take this.” she walks past him to the front counter, grabbing a bag.
“I had intended to give this to them since they didn't eat the whole time. They refused, however.” The waitress hands Kaeya the bag of food and he nods.
“Of course, I was planning on stopping by. Thank you for your concern."He thanks her, turning to leave the restaurant. The waitress can see how uneasy Kaeya was from his face, she knows that you were waiting for him all along. When you got up to leave, in your drunken state you told her to tell Kaeya you went home and not to worry.
Kaeya steps out and the cold night air hits him. Did you walk home without your coat? It's freezing. Kayea feels even worse.
His legs walk at such a fast pace, not daring to slow down.
Did you make it home safe? Are you ok? Why did you leave alone?
He starts to run, almost sprint. His mind is racing with the worst.
He turns the corner to your house and stops in his tracks. He sees you. However, you’re not inside the house. You're sitting on the porch leaning on the wall. It's freezing.
His legs move fast again. He drops to his knees when he makes it to you. Grabbing hold of your arms to wake you.
You're freezing to the touch.
“Darling? Hey.” he shakes you a bit and you stir from your sleep, blinking your eyes.
“-ts so cold.” you whisper.
In seconds you feel a coat draping over your shoulders, then a soft fabric around your neck.
Your vision clears and your eyes make out who's in front of you.
Your eyes immediately begin to burn.
“Hey hey, love I’m so sorry please don't cry. I promise I didn’t mean to forget my love, things just happened and it slipped my mind.” He pulls you in when he sees your eyes glossy. His own eyes start to burn.
“Archons, why are you sleeping outside? Do you understand how dangerous that is?” He questions, pulling back a bit seeing you now refusing to look at him.
“I-it was so embarrassing. I sat there while so many people walked in and out. I saw you with someone else and it looked like you were having fun. I was a-alone for hours. I left the restaurant and I left my k-key in the coat of my jacket.” You feel your lip tremble a bit, you’re trying your absolute hardest to not cry but he’s standing right in front of you looking so guilty it hurts.
“That person you saw with me was a subordinate, I wasn’t doing anything else with them while I was out. I was ordered to take them to the tavern to get grape juice to get rid of the effects from a potion they had gotten exposed to. Love, please.” He explains, tone serious as his hands run up and down your shoulders, making you feel warm again.
“It wasn’t my intention.” His whispers, hand coming up under your chin making you look at him.
“Never ever walk home alone again. Not in this state.” He pleads, face full of concern, his eye scanning you making your own eyes burn more.
You notice his white scarf is gone then look down, realizing that’s what he put around you when he found you here.
“I just wanted to s-spend time with you.” You hiccup tears now freely falling down.
He leans in, kissing your cheek, then your other one, up to your forehead, your nose, your chin and stops in front of your lips. You feel his warm breath fan over you and you relax at his simple touch.
“My love, please don’t cry.” His eyes close and he takes a deep breath. He was so worried but you're in front of him, you’re safe with him.
“You have me, I’ll spend as much time as you want until my time is due I promise.” He leans back abit, opening his eye taking you in.
You look tired, you drank and you never do. He put you in this state and it pains him.
“You promise? You promise me i-I’m not thinking the worst, that you still want me and you’ll stay with me?” You ask.
Kaeya doesn’t respond, he leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. Hands holding you softly as he gives you another one, and another and another until you're out of breath.
“I swear to the archons above that I want nothing more than to call you mine alway and forever if you’ll allow me.” He pulls back, thumbs wiping any remaining tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.
And they do, more spill out. Having your doubts and feeling insecure gets to you often but Kaeya is so patient, so understanding. Him assuring you, being here right now, apologizing proves he meant no wrong. And you believe him, you trust him. You know he wouldn’t do that now, him being here proves so.
“Darling, let’s get you inside, it's freezing.” He stands, holding his hand out to help you to your feet. Placing his hand on the small of your back when you wobble.
“I’ll explain everything better, in full detail of what happened today once you're inside, once you eat, I promise love.” He assures you still holding onto you, not wanting to let go just yet. You nod, holding his hand abit tighter as he unlocks the door to your shared house, ushering you to walk in first. Seeing him this worried, him running here when he realized he forgot. He found you and immediately checked on you. You have doubts often, but seeing him right here cleared any doubts about today. You will listen to what he has to say and believe him because he’s here that’s all that matters right now. Kaeya is here, he’s yours and you won’t doubt him. Not when he looks at you with such loving eyes and holds you so gently, not when he cares so much. He’s here and that’s all that matters now, but most importantly Kaeya didn’t forget.
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author’s note: hiiii lovelies!!! :D it’s been ages since I’ve posted UGH IVE MISSED WRITING SM! :( I’m sorry for the small hiatus. I wasn’t ok but it’s better now, I notice when I feel the most hurt or pain I write the most it helps me convey what I feel and I love writing, you all giving feedback and enjoying them makes me love writing too! I hope you enjoy, I hope you’re taking care and all in good health MWAHHHH IVE MISSES YOU ALL SO MUCH!^~^<33! (ALSO THIS ISNT EDITED so sorry for any errors!)
#genshin impact#genshin impact kaeya#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact oneshots#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact kaeya x reader#kaeya x y/n#genshin impact angst#genshin impact hurt/comfort#kaeya angst#kaeya alberich#kaeya oneshot#kaeya x reader
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Could you write something for jobe. Maybe you guys gets into a fight and you’re surrounded by his family all day. They seem to notice the tension but doesn’t say anything but at some point or after a comment from him you break down and leave to be alone in your room. Leaving everyone shocked and surprised by the situation since you guys are very private. Maybe it could be during Christmas or a holiday?! Anyways if you want to. Thanks !
Never is a promise — Jobe Bellingham.
Pairing: Jobe Bellingham x Gn!Reader
Summary: After an argument and some back handed comments during a Christmas dinner, you’re left humiliated and upset, and you realize never was a promise Jobe apparently couldn’t keep.
Word count: 830
Disclaimer/s: arguing, yelling, & angst, ends happishly!
A/N: tbh idk where i was going with this
“It’s not that big of a deal,” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low enough as to not disturb his family that was in the next room.
Jobe lets out a low groan. “Yes, it is!” You’d been arguing for the past ten minutes all because you didn’t mention a job promotion to him before your family.
“Listen, Jobe. Seriously, it’s not a big thing! All it gives me is a higher income, other than that it’s not a big deal! Let it go.” You rub your temples, “can we please just go back to the table? This is embarrassing.”
The boy rolls his eyes, pushing his body away from the counter. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” He speaks through clenched teeth, glancing to the kitchen door before striding his way through it.
You follow after him, forcing a smile onto your lips as you take your seat beside your boyfriend. Tension flows throughout the dining room, everyone was on edge. It wasn’t like Jobe’s argument with you was subtle. It had started at the table before you had excused the both of you into the kitchen.
“So! How do you like the food?” Denise asks, a wavering smile on her face as she looks in your direction.
You mirror her expression, fork playing with the food on your plate. “Good! Thank you.” You nod, taking a bite although you had no appetite whatsoever.
Silence again. Deafening silence.
“So this promotion—“ Your lips clamp shut, eyes darting to your boyfriend. His jaw clenches tightly, a laugh of disbelief escaping his lips. You loved the woman, but she did not read context clues well.
“Yeah, tell them all about it.” He says sarcastically, eyes finding yours in a heat of annoyance.
That was your final straw. Your eyes flutter to the ceiling, blinking a few times to calm yourself. You slowly stand up, “I need to go take a breather!”
The second you left, making haste to your bedroom, Jobe’s parents, and Jude, look his way with disappointment evident in their faces. “Mate…” Jude sighs, “come on. It’s Christmas.”
Jobe takes a quick glance to the Christmas tree a few feet away, lips pursing tightly. “Stay out of this, Jude.” He was more annoyed at the fact that this was all happening in front of his family, than the original reason you were even fighting over.
Meanwhile, you were sat on your bed, hands rubbing your thighs as you took even breaths. You knew you should’ve told him. But in your head, the promotion wasn’t a big deal. It was small and nearing meaningless, but apparently not to Jobe.
He’d never gotten mad at you. He’d been upset sure, but mad? That was a reaction you had not expected. At the beginning of your relationship, a whole year and a half prior, he’d promised he would never hurt you, never raise his voice. And he hadn’t. Until now. ‘Never’ is a big promise, and you knew you shouldn’t have held it to such a standard.
The soft click of the door opening and shutting had your head snapping up, “What’re you doing?” Your eyes narrow slightly.
Jobe leans against the doorframe, chewing on his cheek. He lets out a long breath, hand running over his face. “Listen—“
“It’s fine.” You snap. You didn’t want to argue, just wanted it to go away. You wanted to enjoy the holiday, to pretend anything even happened.
Too busy staring at your hands, you only notice Jobe sat beside you when the bed dips and your body slips closer to his. Your thighs touch, but you are quick to scoot over. Your boyfriend sighs at the movement.
“I’m sorry, okay? I just wish you told me these things! They’re important to me, and you never tell me things anymore. I mean, it’s not just the promotion.” He clears his throat, “I don’t want to argue with you. I don’t want to fight and ruin the holidays.”
You look back to Jobe, “right. Okay.” No apology from you, which Jobe’s jaw ticks at, but he doesn’t say anything.
“So, we can go back? Talk about this later?” He suggests, playing with the strings of his hoodie. He doesn’t make a move to stand up, though.
Standing up off the bed, you nod. “Yeah, sure.” You begin to walk away, but you’re stopped when Jobe’s hand wraps loosely around your arm, pulling you back into him. His arms securing around your torso, keeping your back flush to him.
Held in his arms, Jobe’s head rests on your shoulder, placing a soft kiss there. “I’m sorry I got upset.” He murmurs, giving you a quick squeeze, which you reciprocate reluctantly. Your hands resting on his arms.
“I know.” You huff, “i’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the promotion.”
Jobe hums into your neck, using his index fingers to turn your chin in his direction. He gives you a dimple showing smile. “I love you, always. Even when I am upset.”
Now you were a little less angry with the whole situation, those few small words meaning more than a petty argument. “I love you too, idiot.” You add, giving him a playful scowl.
Likes , comments , & reblog’s are all appreciated. Let me know if you want tagged in any of my posts <3
DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !
#jobe bellingham#jobe bellingham x you#jobe bellingham x reader#jobe bellingham x y/n#jobe bellingham angst#blurb#fanfic#football#sunderland afc#angst#angst with a hopeful ending
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Pieces Part 3
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: the aftermath of the break up has different effects on both, Azriel and Reader.
A/N: yall I'm sick🥲 the updates might be late but I'll try to post as much as possible. Hope you like this one!
Pieces Masterlist
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It's been one month.
One month of Healing.
When azriel left, I told myself that I will not contact him until I'm ready. Doesn't matter how much I'm missing him or wanting him. I will not talk to him until I know I won't take him back the second I see him again.
I gave myself two days. Two days to sulk all I wanted. I spent the whole time crying and feeling miserable about myself. Before Az left at least, I wasn't by myself. At least I saw him once a day.
Now? Nothing.
I am totally alone. His absence hit me Hard. Everything I saw, almost brought me to my knees.
The kitchen where we would make dinner together, laughing and joking with each other that many times ended with us covered in flour and syrup.
The couch where we would sit cuddling and talking until we fell asleep, always waking up with strained muscles.
His office where he would sit on his chair in front of his desk, writing out reports and whatnot while I sit in his armchair reading my book. Just enjoying each others company and occasionally taking breaks to make out on the very deck, and then some.
After those dreadful days though, I called Feyre and Mor and had a very much needed girls night. We took out a wine bottle and I spilled everything to them. My mind was too drunk to think my feelings about Elain might offend Feyre but she genuinely felt sad for me and embarrassed about her sister. The poor girl even apologised to my about Elain's behavior to which I immediately told her it wasn't her fault.
When I told them how lonely it got being alone in a big house like this, they suggested maybe I should get a job or something to keep my mind distracted and promised that they'll visit me often. So I did juat that.
I found a part time job at a local library. I have to admit, I'm really enjoying it. I'm the second assistant to the sweetest lady, Hilda, who owns the shop. I don't do much, just help her in small things like adjusting books on self or helping in shipping books out or in. Layla, the first assistant, handles most of the work around the shop. My job is basically doing what she asks of me. The salary isn't much but I don't care because it's never been about money.
The first week was very hard. Everyday after I came home, the silence felt like a slap on the face, reminding me of everything I lost.
But, slowly, I became comfortable with it. Now it's doesn't hurt me as it did before.
There were many times when I think of Azriel, tears filled my eyes, but I never let them free. I sucked them in and did anything else that didn't made me cry, like taking baths, baking my favorite chocolate brownies, reading in front of the fire place while drinking hot coco or calling my friends to take me shopping.
And as time went. I started to heal. I started to feel good, happier with myself. And without even realizing it, I started to love myself.
-☆-
Azriel
It's been one month.
One month of regretting everything I did to my mate.
I've spent my whole month sulking in this room, crying and regretting everytime I chose Elain over my wife. I haven't slept at all since I came here, just enough to keep me functioning. My appetite is gone. I don't eat unless Rhys come and force feeds me like I'm some baby.
I told Rhysand and Cassian everything the first morning i stayed here. Which earned me a flick to head by Cassian and a very disappointed look from Rhys. Even though they didn't give me any scolding(which I very much deserved), the flick and expression said enough.
Rhys has refrained me of any work, handling it himself or having someone else do it. While I have been sitting around here and hating myself. It seems like even my mind has declared itself an enemy, showing me memories of everytime I dismissed Y/N and hurt her in any way at most random times, cutting a deeper cut in my heart everytime.
"Hey Az, I was thinking if we could go out for dinner tonight? There is this new amazing restaurant I saw while walking near Sidra. I really want to try it." She told me as I put on my coat, ready to go.
"I can't, I have a mission for today. Rhys told me it's important so I can't skip. We'll go some other time. Okay?"
"Ok."
I could hear the excitement in her voice when she asked me and the hurt when I rejected her and promised to go another time. The time never came. She never asked again. And I never noticed.
"Az, are you awake?" She whispers in the dead of night. Both of us sleeping on the bed. My back to her, hoping to fall asleep quickly because I have early training tomorrow.
Cassian is spending time with Nesta more, so Rhys has told me to go to an illyrian camp to check how things are going. I have to wake and go there early to catch them off guard to see what's truly going on.
I can't do that if Y/N doesn't let me sleep.
I didn't answer her that night, hoping if i dont respond, she'll think im asleep and doesnt call me again. She really didnt call me again. I prioritized my sleep over her. Her voice sounded so small. She needed me. And I didn't care.
"So, I saw a really cute baby in garden today and..." I drone out her babbling and try to quickly I can get out of here, I promised Elain to help in her garden today. She'll be disappointed if I show up late.
"Az? You're listening to me right?" She suddenly questions, I clear my throat and answer a small, of course, she nods and takes a deep breath, not saying anything anymore. I sign in relief of the silence.
I put my head in my hands and tug hard on my hair, wanting to feel hurt, hurt the kind that she clearly felt and I didn't care.
I hate myself more and more as memories flash through my mind. I can't even cry at this point. I wished she'd hit me when we fought. Slaped and paunched some sense into me. I don't blame her at all for not talking to me. Gods, I wouldn't even blame her if she left me. I deserve it.
How do I fix this?
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Taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @crazylokonugget @going-through-shit @wallacewillow0773638 @kalulakunundrum @cat-or-kitten
#acotar fandom#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar angst#azriel#azriel angst#azriel x you#azriel x reader#pieces
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crumbs | op81, ln4
hi! i hope you don't mind that i am serving another landoscar you can probably already tell how many comfort i am finding in the papayas
anyway please enjoy and feel free to send requests if you have any!
summary: y/n gained a little bit of weight and didn't get well with that
warnings: problems with eating, body dysmorphia
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver x lando norris
"I would eat pizza"
Y/N wrinkled her nose, hearing Lando's suggestion to her left.
"Pizza? You can afford more than that" she replied, eyes glued to the screen while browsing restaurant offers on her phone.
"Pizza is always a good option" he added, shrugging and looking at Oscar for support.
Piastri let out a sight and streched his legs.
"Pizza is a safe choice, I must admit"
"Seriously? You too?"
The girl looked up from her phone and glanced at the aussie sitting to her right.
The three friends were sitting outside the medics' room, waiting for their routine check-ups before the race. It was lunchtime and they were intensively pondering what to eat.
"I would love some Mexican, but I'm not sure if it's a good idea" Oscar said after a few minutes of thinking.
"It's a shitty idea if you ask me" Lando laughed at his own excellent joke and continued until he entered the room for tests, leaving his friends alone.
"I would go for sushi, but I know this big baby won't let me eat fish in his presence" Y/N said, referring to Lando's picky choices.
"How about a burger?"
Oscar asked, glancing at her phone and pointing to a restaurant. She handed her phone to him and they both started looking at the menu.
"It looks decent enough"
After Lando came out it was time for Oscar and then it was Y/N turn. She had her blood pressure, sugar, and blood test taken. Finally, it was time for her weight check. Without thinking too much she took off her shoes and stepped on the scale, straightening up and looking ahead.
"Are you before your period?"
The girl blinked a few times, somewhat taken aback by the unexpected question, but she shook her head.
"Two weeks ago before the race you were four kilos lighter"
She looked down at her body and was surprised by the number on the scale. At the nurse's request she repeated the measurement, but it remained the same.
"Is there a chance that it's a weight scale error?" Y/N asked as she put on her shoes.
The nurse shook her head and wrote down the results.
"Lando and Oscar's weights are the same as during the last measurements, so i guess it's not about the scale"
The girl felt embarrassed. Did that mean she had actually gained weight?
"Do you stick to your diet and training?"
"Yes, I'm trying as best as I can" she quickly nodded, but the woman still looked dissatisfied.
"I'll inform your coach and dietitian, but you need to have more self-discipline."
Y/N nodded and lowered her gaze, feeling bad about herself. When she left the examination room, she noticed Lando and Oscar were still discussing where to eat that day.
"We thought burgers would be a good idea, but we changed the place, let us know if it suits you."
Oscar said, handing her the phone. She took it, but her appetite had completely left her, along with her good mood.
"I don't feel great after the blood test, so I'll pass on lunch today."
"We can eat later when you feel better" Lando suggested, glancing at her. Oscar agreed, nodding.
"No, you can go on your own."
"Then pick something for yourself, we'll get it for you to go."
Y/N handed back the phone and shook her head.
"No, there's no need. I need to rest for a while and I'll eat something later."
Her friends insisted for a while, but she remained adamant. When they lost the verbal battle with her, they both left the hotel together and she returned to her room. She immediately went to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. She carefully observed herself from every angle, raising and lowering her shirt, sucking in and relaxing her stomach. She didn't think anything had changed in her appearance, but the longer she looked at her reflection, the less she was liking what she was seeing. She slipped her finger under her waistband, trying to remember if her pants had been looser at some point. She leaned closer to the mirror, examining her face. Were her cheeks perhaps less round?
The girl shook her head, left the bathroom and sat on the bed. So yes, it is a fact. She had gained weight, which didn't bode well, especially for her performance. Not wanting to succumb to negative emotions, she got up and changed quickly, wanting to start her training for the day earlier. She headed to the hotel gym, spending two hours doing cardio exercises which killed any appetite she had left and certainly any craving for food.
"I thought I was the only one who came here with such a big head start" her trainer joked, putting his bag with her training equipment on the floor. Seeing her sweaty and flushed from exertion, he furrowed his brow.
"How long have you been here?"
"Not long, just warming up. We can start, im ready"
She replied, pretending not to have any trouble catching her breath. She wiped her face with a towel and took a sip of water. In reality, she had had enough.
After another two hours of intense exercise, Y/N had had even more than enough. If that was possible at all.
And that was how her days started to passing away, quickly turning into weeks. She spent more time on training than necessary, completely avoiding recovery time. She also avoided going out with Lando and Oscar, knowing it was better to avoid them than to come up with excuses for not ordering anything to eat and only drinking water with ice. But there were moments like this, when avoiding them was impossible.
After the pre-race conference, there was a big dinner from which Y/N couldn't escape. Everyone was milling around big swedish tables with their plates in hand, but she sat on the side, clutching a bottle of water. Suddenly, a plate of freshly prepared lasagna appeared in front of her. A few pieces of broccoli and a small portion of greek salad, her favorite, lay next to it. Lando and Oscar sat down in front of her, their plates also filled with delicious food. There was no way out of this, but she couldn't let herself be defeated.
"I took you some yummies, don't be grateful too much" Lando said and sat down, starting to eat. She forced a smile and held her fork, pushing the food around her plate. She took a knife in her other hand, starting to cut a piece into smaller portions while maintaining an active conversation with her friends. Her utensil movements were dynamic, she speared the food, waved it near her mouth. However, no piece eventually made it onto her tongue and not a single calorie disrupted her balance. Another great success.
Both Oscar and Lando easily sensed the change in her behavior. They had noticed it a while ago when she began to avoid them like the plague and when she was with them, she wasn't the person they used to know.
"We see what you're doing and you better stop that or at least tell us what's going on" Lando said firmly, setting aside his utensils. She looked at them, pretending to be surprised.
"You know what I'm talking about"
"I have no idea" she replied immedietaly.
"You haven't eaten anything even though your plate is full of your favs" Oscar pointed out.
"I just don't have an appetite, I ate earlier"
"You haven't eaten earlier, Y/N"
Oscar shook his head, looking at her with concern.
"You have no idea what I was doing earlier.
The girl said, shaking her head in irritation. What did it matter to them whether she ate or not? They had probably noticed she gained weight so they knew her results would be poor, which meant she would be worse than them. She wouldn't be worse than anyone.
"It's just that we don't know because you cut yourself off from us without a word"
"I didn't cut myself off from anyone"
"You stopped spending time with us, you don't talk to anyone and it's almost impossible to reach you so how you will call it other than cutting yourself off?"
Y/N snorted, shaking her head.
"This is absurd"
"We're just worried, that's all"
Lando said, not angry but genuinely concerned. And even if he was angry, it was only with himself for not knowing what was happening with his friend.
"No one has to worry about me"
She cut him off and stood up. She had no intention of listening to this nonsense but when she got up abruptly, her head spun and she staggered uncontrollably. Oscar caught her just in time and he exchanged a meaningful glance with Lando. They held the girl tightly and the three of them left the dinner.
Once they were outside, the cold night air somewhat cooled Y/N's unwarranted anger. Lando and Oscar were her friends, not enemies and none of them had ever made her feel like they had ill intentions.
"I feel weak" she finally admitted, squinting her eyes. After a moment, she felt something warm tickling her lips. Lando cursed when he saw a trickle of blood from her nose. He began frantically searching his pockets, but Oscar was faster and pressed a tissue to her nose.
"It's okay, just breathe"
Piastri said calmly, sitting her down on a bench. He laid her down, gently placing her head on his lap, telling Lando to lift her legs. He did what he was told, but he felt like he could faint at any moment himself.
The three of them sat in silence and Oscar and Lando from time to time were exchanging worried glances. They didn't want to press on Y/N too much. They knew her nature and that she had to open up to them on her own.
"I lied" the girl said quietly after few minutes of silence, so quietly that Oscar and Lando thought it was just the whistle of the wind.
"I didn't eat anything today. Yesterday, too and the day before either"
"You haven't eaten anything for three days?" Lando asked, looking at her with concern. She weakly nodded.
"Why?"
"I gained weight"
"Who told you that you gained weight?"
Lando asked, frowning his brows. He was ready to throw hands with anyone who let his friend down.
"It came out during the check. I gained weight, which shouldn't have happened"
"And that's why you stopped eating? Completely?"
"I shouldn't eat"
She admitted, still pressing the tissue against her nose. She felt her eyes filling with tears. She hated being weak, but that was exactly what she was in that moment. Just weak.
"You should eat, you need to eat," Oscar said, wiping away the tears that escaped her eyelids "Everyone needs to eat"
"Not me"
"Everyone deserves to enjoy delicious food, especially you"
"It would be better for me if there was no food in the world"
"You're being silly" Piastri said, gently caressing her cheek. She opened her eyelids and immediately met a pair of big brown eyes, looking at her calmly.
"We'll take you to your room, you'll rest. One of us will bring you something good to eat and you can have it in peace without any weird glances. Okay?"
She nodded weakly, not being able to continue this fight. Shortly after that all three of them were in her bedroom. They sat on the bed, each of them having a paper plate with something to eat. Oscar and Lando were already quite full, but they wanted to show their support to their friend, so each of them took a large piece of cake.
Y/N looked hesitantly at her meal, her nervous gaze shifting between her friends.
"This is safe food, good ingredients. Your stomach will thank you for it" Lando assured her, smiling encouragingly.
She nodded and slowly started eating. Lando and Oscar joined her, and they ate in silence. No unnecessary comments, no lectures. Just the comfort offered by friends. And nothing tasted better than that.
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Maybe This Time - Part Two
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: As Jessie and you grow closer, you attend your first Thorn's game, get grilled by Janine, and Jessie relives old memories of you - both good and bad.
Warnings: None.
A/N: It's been a while, so if you need Part One here it is. Depending on the appetite for this fic, I'll either wrap it up next chapter or will explore a bit more.
"Does the offer for tickets still stand?"
Jessie's smile widened as she read your message.
"Of course. Which game do you want to see?"
When she locked her phone and tucked it into her jacket pocket she caught the curious look Janine was giving her. The blonde leaned against the lockers, hand resting on her hip.
"What's that about?" She asked with a single waggle of her eyebrows and a knowing look to the phone.
"Nothing," Jessie replied in a drawn out tone as she rolled her eyes and turned to walk to the carpark, knowing Janine would follow.
"I think you mean 'Y/N'," Janine said rather smugly as she fell in step. Jessie came to a stop and shot her friend a withering look.
"Not you, too," she complained, being immediately met with all-too-satisfied laughter from Janine.
Since Jessie texted Teagan about you a few weeks back, she'd received relentless razzing from her Bruins teammates, but now it seemed word had gotten out even more.
"You were crazy about her back in the day," Janine went on undeterred. "I remember you texting her - not as discretely as you thought, by the way - and moping over her at camps."
"Uh huh," Jessie said in a flat, unimpressed tone as they began walking again. "I did not mope," she muttered.
"Oh you moped," Janine refuted. "Big time." Before Jessie could argue further, Janine went on. "And now she lives here and so do you? And she’s single? Sounds like fate to me," she said with a cheeky smile.
"Stop it," Jessie scolded mildly. The rest of her complaint dissipated as she felt her phone buzz. She pulled it out and shot Janine a dark look at the "Oooo" noise she made upon seeing your name on the screen. Jessie turned her back to Janine and opened the message, ignoring how the girl was tall enough to see over her shoulder anyway.
"Awesome! Whatever's available, really. This weekend, next, whatever works. Thank you!"
Jessie sighed irritably as she tried to ignore how Janine was blatantly looking at the message.
"I can get you tickets for this weekend. Is two okay?"
"Why are you offering her two!" Janine protested. "You want her to bring a date or something?"
Jessie rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to make her attend alone. She can bring a friend." She averted her gaze briefly before lowering her tone. "A friend who's hopefully not a date." Immediately, she went on. “Not that I care. We’re totally different people now. There’s nothing to read into.”
“Right,” Janine deadpanned. She opened her mouth to speak, but a new message popped up and both girls’ attention was drawn to it.
"Brilliant! I'll be there. Thank you so much. I'm looking forward to it! It's been too long since I've been to one of your games."
Jessie smiled before tamping it out when she remembered Janine was studying her.
“Cool. I’ll send you the tickets.”
She was going to write something further, something witty, but not with Janine hanging over her shoulder and analyzing every word and move.
“Imagine if you get benched this Saturday,” Janine said followed with a laugh. Jessie glowered at her.
“It wouldn’t matter anyway,” Jessie said haughtily, recovering from the dirty look she shot her friend. “It’s not like she’s here to see me specifically.”
“Uh, I think that’s exactly what she’s doing. Remember? She doesn’t even like soccer?” Janine pointed out exaggeratedly before muttering. “Which would totally be a red flag, but your Bruins girls seemed to like her, so I guess she can’t be all bad.”
“Oh my gosh,” Jessie chided. “Her not caring about soccer is not a reflection of her character or worth as a human being. God, Janine.” She rolled her eyes and Janine made a face at her.
“You know what does though? How much emotional turmoil she put you through in university. I can - and do - judge her for that,” Janine retorted, now earnest.
Jessie shot her a look as they reached their cars. They stood to face one another and she sighed.
“It’s not her fault,” she said quietly. “I never told her how I feel. Felt.” Jessie glowered at herself this time, rolling her eyes. “She didn’t string me along or anything like that. Anytime I was moody - or mopey - it was my own doing. We were really close and I wanted more, but I was too shy. And I’d get jealous of girls who did have the nerve to ask her out and date her and it was my own fault.”
“This isn’t the 19th century, Jessie. She could’ve asked you out, too,” Janine countered and Jessie huffed in frustration, folding her arms tightly across her chest.
“Well. I guess. But. I don’t know.” Jessie kicked at the ground with her sneaker. “I think she maybe was now and then? Like - not explicitly I guess. But looking back I think she wanted me to reciprocate more and I didn’t. Maybe.”
Janine arched an eyebrow at her.
“What do you mean?”
Jessie’s frustration grew, but she took a breath.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged sharply and redhead out to open her car door. “It doesn’t matter. That’s all in the past anyway.”
She didn’t have to look at Janine to know the girl was processing how far to push this. Mercifully, she relented.
“‘Kay. Well, I've push my judgement aside. And truthfully, if you like her, that says a lot - she must be pretty great. I look forward to meeting her on Saturday. And I will be nice. I promise.”
“Thank you,” Jessie said, giving Janine a grateful look. “See you tomorrow.”
“Later.”
——————
Saturday’s game rolled around and Jessie was in the locker room getting ready when her phone buzzed. Normally, she didn’t check her phone or keep it nearby when she was preparing for a game, but, you know, what if you had a question or a problem with the tickets? She clearly had to be available.
When she checked her phone and saw your name, she smiled. For the first week or so anytime you appeared on her phone Jessie felt a spark of surprise, but that had now diminished. Not in a bad way, but you two had been texting quite regularly and it wasn’t a shock anymore to hear from you.
Ready to watch a ball be kicked around and chased for 90 minutes!
She actually laughed when she read the message, but it was cut short when she saw the selfie you sent with it. On one hand, you looked beautiful and she smirked at how you’d bought a Thorns scarf and hat. On the other hand, old feelings came up when she saw you and your…friend. Whoever that may be. It was a silly notion, but it felt too familiar.
Jessie sighed.
What - no Fleming jersey?
Lol. I guess we’ll see how today goes as to whether or not I can be swayed. I mean, that’s a commitment.
Jessie's attention was drawn away when Coach announced it was time for warm-ups.
"Off your phone," Janine said dramatically with a bobble of her head. "You're so focused you missed the update to the starting lineup."
"What?" Jessie asked, eyebrows furrowed and attention now fully on her friend.
"Yeah," Janine said pointedly as she crossed her arms. "You really didn’t hear? You're not starting anymore. You're on the bench; Coach is thinking of pretty much resting you for the game."
"What?" Jessie asked again with greater intensity, sitting forward. She watched as Janine's stern expression melted into laughter. Jessie's concern and confusion immediately shifted to irritation and she stared daggers at the blonde.
"Oh my God. I can't believe you fell for that," Janine teased. "Don't worry," she went on, rolling her eyes, "nothing's changed. But now I know how much you want to show off for Y/N."
"You're ridiculous," Jessie scolded as she stood. "I'd be upset any day about getting suddenly benched. What are you talking about." Janine still snickered.
"You gotta point her out to me when we get on the pitch."
"No," Jessie said firmly as she typed out one last text.
"Time for warm-ups. It usually takes us a long time to get out of here after games, but if you're around later on maybe we can grab a drink together."
Jessie fought off the impending blush and tucked her phone into her bag before jogging after the rest of the girls.
Out on the pitch she put in quite a valiant effort to not look in your general direction. It was all rather pointless, really, it's not like you were close enough to the pitch for her to see you clearly or vice versa, but still. She also readily ignored the way Janine tracked her stare for any indication of where you were sitting.
By the time the anthem rolled around, Jessie's resolution waned. She stood there with her shoulders back, hands clasped behind her as the music echoed through the stadium. Despite her intentions, her gaze wandered over to the section you were in. Her gaze lingered long enough for her to pick out the spot you were in. Again, you weren't super clearly defined that far out, but it was you.
She bit the inside of her cheek and fought off a blush. She refused. This was a new time, a new Jessie, and she'd be damned if she'd shrink and blush just because you were here. She'd played in front of sold out stadiums on the world stage - why should she care if you were watching? Still, her mind raced back to when you first came to one of her games.
She'd played with the Bruins for over a year by the time you became friends. Jessie had really been downplaying the whole soccer thing for the initial part of your friendship - she didn't want it to define her and in a way it felt like bragging. She actually liked that you didn't know her for soccer and when someone else in class once made a big deal about her, you looked momentarily perplexed, but unfazed and you both immediately went back to talking about nanomaterials.
In fact, Jessie never actually invited you to one of her games. The concept just seemed so…egotistical. That said, she remembered when the starting whistle was about to blow at one of the games and she made the mistake of scanning the crowd. Just the memory of the shock and nerves that washed over her upon seeing you in the stands nearly caused her body to recreate the same reaction in this moment. She took a deep breath.
Jessie was so stunned to see you at the game that the whistle blew and the game started while she remained rooted to her spot for several seconds, belatedly stumbling like an idiot after the ball long after it shot past her. She was off the entire game - shots going wide, poor challenges, and somehow ending up flat on the pitch more times than she could recall in recent years. It was a game from hell for her.
After the game, she was so embarrassed she scurried off the field, showered, got changed and rushed back to her dorm. Only later did she learn you'd looked for her after the game. Next time she saw you in class, she sunk in her chair, anxiously tapping her pencil on her notebook and determinedly stared forward. You greeted her like normal, but Jessie was fidgety and gave monosyllabic answers. You eventually congratulated her on the game. Despite Jessie's less than stellar performance, the team still won. Jessie guffawed and felt heat ascending on her face. She shuffled in her seat and claimed she didn't know you'd attended the game. Despite her aloofness, you were still very complimentary.
Thankfully, in future games Jessie was more like herself. But she'd be lying if she said she wasn't nervous every time you showed up. She just never wanted to make a fool of herself in front of you.
This time, however, as the first whistle blew, Jessie charged forward, immediately winning possession and sending a long through ball past an unsuspecting defensive line for Sophia to chase down. A strong start for Jessie, followed by well-timed tackles, solid passes, deft footwork and by the end of the game - an assist. She was subbed out in the final 15 minutes, but she felt great about her performance.
After the final whistle and a 2-0 result, the team walked the pitch greeting and thanking the fans. Jessie walked along with her teammates, clapping along with the fans and waving periodically when Janine ran up next to her, nudging her with her shoulder as she did so.
"Okay, so where is she? Oh, and congrats. You put on a bit of a clinic today, so I'm sure she'll be very impressed."
Jessie rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation.
"You're not going to be able to see her anyway. And who knows, maybe she left already."
"Another point against her," Janine joked, ignoring the look Jessie shot her.
Jessie was about to prep a rebuttal when her eyes fell upon you. You were hanging back behind the fans who had clamoured down to the barriers and were reaching over with gear to sign. While her pulse quickened at the sight of you, an uncomfortable pit formed in her stomach when she saw you leaning in and whispering to the girl you were with. Jessie quickly shook out her head in a vain attempt to rid herself of this nagging - and totally unwarranted - jealousy.
"Wait - which one is she," Janine asked, urgency in her voice as she started pushing into Jessie to try and gauge where she was looking.
"Oh for goodness sake," Jessie muttered, though grateful for the distraction. She sighed, but described you to Janine and gestured vaguely. As she did so, you looked her way and you caught one another's eye. Jessie swallowed her discomfort and gave you a wave with a half smile, which you returned with a bright smile and an enthusiastic wave.
"Oh," Janine said flatly. "So that's why you like her."
"What?" Jessie asked, her voice suddenly high in question.
"Well, I don't play for the same team as you, but, she's a looker. I'll give you that." She gave a brief eye roll a moment later as she relented further. "And I guess she's gotta be smart, too."
"I don't like her, Janine," Jessie said through nearly gritted teeth. "Not that like anymore. She's just an old friend."
"Well, I'd like to talk with this 'old friend' of yours," Janine said, and before Jessie could react to the glint she caught in Janine's eye, the blonde was up on her tip toes and waving you down, insisting for you to come down to the pitch. You hesitated, but, standard Janine, she was very persistent. You looked to Jessie for direction and though Jessie wanted to just get swallowed up by the ground over this whole display, she channeled her energy and instead gave you an easy nod and waved you down as well.
It took every ounce of effort for Jessie to retain her composure as you descended the steps and found an opening in the crowd.
"So what's the verdict?" Jessie asked as you came up to one another at the barrier. Her eyes flicked momentarily back to your friend who stood behind you. "More or less entertaining than a Bruins game?"
You chuckled, a wide smile forming on your face and Jessie unknowingly smiled back.
"Well I don’t want to say anything negative about your Bruins days. I had fun - I know you don't believe me, but I did. That said, a game in front of like 25,000 fans is pretty spectacular. The energy in here was crazy." You gave a facetious roll of your eyes and tacked on with a smirk, "And I guess you played alright, too."
Jessie was about to riff off of your comment when Janine stepped forward and extended her hand.
"Hey, you must be Y/N. My name is Janine - nice to meet you," she said with a polite smile. You readily shook her hand.
"It's so nice to finally meet you. Jessie's always talked so highly of you."
"Ah," Janine said as she gave Jessie a lingering look before smiling back. "Jessie's always talked very highly of you, too."
You blushed slightly as you pulled a slight face, shifting your gaze to Jessie.
"That is much too generous of her," you said. "I would've expected her to talk more about how annoying I could be during study sessions."
"Nobody could be more annoying than Janine when I was trying to study," Jessie swiftly cut in. She ignored the affronted look the blonde shot her. Jessie looked back at you and quickly added, "Not that I thought you were annoying. You were one of the only people in my life that took studying seriously." Jessie took a breath and offered your companion a tight smile.
"You must be…"
"Oh!" You said as you turned on the spot. "Oh, I'm so sorry. This is my friend [y/friend's name]. She's actually been asking me to come to a Thorns game for a while, so - it finally worked out."
"Oh really?" Jessie asked, feeling annoyingly uneasy before remembering her manners. "Oh, and I'm Jessie. Nice to meet you."
"Very polite of you to introduce yourself even though you're famous," [y/friend] said with a laugh. "It's nice to meet you, too. I'm a fan of both of you and am stoked that you're playing for Portland these days. Imagine my surprise when y/n just casually drops that she got a personal invite from Jessie Fleming herself. I didn't believe her until she showed me a picture of you two from university."
Now Jessie did blush, brushing her hair back with her hand. Oh. A friend. And legitimately seemed like just a friend. She inwardly scolded herself for getting so worked up.
"Well, it sounds like we should all grab a drink or something together. Are you free tonight? I'd love to get to know you both better," Janine said with her most charming smile. You and Jessie shared a look.
"Uh, I mean, you mentioned a drink," you said as you gestured to Jessie. "So - I'm up for it if you are."
She'd really been hoping more for a drink one on one, but she supposed she'd have to adapt. She gave a casual shrug.
"Yeah, sounds good."
-----
"Another round?"
Conversation halted as the four of you looked to the server. You were the first to reply.
"Sure, I'll have another. Can I grab the pilsner this time?"
"I'll have another, too." Y/friend jumped in. "Same as before."
"Sure thing. Anyone else?"
Janine waved her off, but Jessie's eyes darted around the table as she debated what to do. A second round wasn't usually her go-to, and frankly, could be slightly dangerous territory when it came to her inhibitions. If you were anything like you were back in university, a second round wouldn't affect you much at all. Still, much like years before, Jessie felt the need to keep up.
"Sure, I'll have another."
"You got it. Be right back."
"So, Y/N, I think we must compare notes. Tell me what Jessie was like in university. I mean, I have my stories from camp and competition days, but I don't know UCLA Jessie," Janine said, leaning in conspiratorially.
"Oh come on, you two," Jessie complained pre-emptively with a roll of her head.
"Hey, why are you calling me out?" You asked, tone rising. "I didn't even agree." You dropped the offended act and leaned in mimicking Janine. "But of course we have to compare notes."
Janine clapped her hands in victory and sat back expectantly.
"You know what," you started as you reached into your pocket to retrieve your phone and started going through it, "after we ran into each other. I went through some old photos and look what I found."
"Oh sweet God," Jessie muttered as she sunk low in her seat and brought a hand up to cover her face.
You turned your phone around and held it out for Jessie first, though Janine immediately leaned right in. The second she saw the photo, Jessie's face began to burn with embarrassment.
"Delete." She shook her head, averting her eyes from the photo. "Get rid of it."
"Come on!" You protested as you drew the phone back. You looked down at the photo of Jessie kneeling in her UCLA blues with an upside down visor on her head looking comically serious.
"Gangster." Janine said with a laugh.
"Well, I thought you looked cute," you said primly. You were flipping to another photo and missed the look Jessie and Janine shared. "'Kay, how about this?" You held out your phone again, this time showing Jessie sporting a water gun at a campus party.
"Again. Delete!" Jessie said, hiding her face further, but now had to laugh.
"You were so sweet," you said. "You were taking that water fight very seriously, but you mercifully didn't shoot me. Which - thank you - cause I was getting rocked already." You gave her a smirk. "In fact, I think you even stopped a shot or two for me."
Jessie arched an eyebrow and gave a light shrug. "Maybe."
A moment later you started laughing, pulling a confused look out of the rest of the table. You waved apologetically. "Sorry - I just remembered. You blasted [y/ex] in the face so bad she was choking for like 5 minutes after. I guess that's not funny, but it kind of was."
Jessie blushed. "Oh yeah. I forgot about that. It just kind of happened - I felt bad after." She certainly didn't forget. And it certainly wasn't an accident. Though she did feel slightly bad.
"Oh, and I showed you this," you said to y/friend before turning the phone to Jessie and Janine again. "This is my favourite picture of us. Do you remember that day?"
Jessie took in the photo of the two of you sitting on the wall at the beach with your backs to the ocean at sunset. You were flush against one another, an arm around each other and your head was leaned against hers.
Jessie remembered this picture well. She'd looked at it many, too many, times. It had been one of her favourites too. Looking at it brought a wave of melancholy over her though. While she loved it, it brought her right back to when she'd stare at photos of you in the dark of her dorm or hotel room and think about the relationship she wished she had with you.
"Yeah, I remember. That was a good night," she said simply with a small smile.
"We were the last ones left around the bonfire that night," you recollected. "And you walked me back to my dorm - gosh, it had to be what, like 3 am by then."
"Yeah, I remember your girlfriend getting pissed with you about it, too," Jessie said without thinking.
Your smile faded slightly, though you held Jessie's gaze. You eventually gave a nod.
"Yeah, I remember that too." You scoffed lightly as you took a sip of your drink. "I can say this now - enough time has passed - my girlfriends always had an issue with you. Which should've been my immediate red flag for each of them. Because anyone who doesn't like you is problematic."
Janine leaned in without skipping a beat. "Okay, you can't just leave it at that. Tell me more. And yes - you're right - major red flags."
This time you were the one to blush. You fiddled with the glass a bit before shrugging, your eyes drifting to the TV in the corner of the establishment.
"I-I don't know," you stammered. "They were just insecure, I guess."
This made Jessie's ears perk up and she frowned deeply at you. Your face burned hotter as you felt the table's eyes on you.
"What?" You dismissed with a shrug and a light wave of your hand. "Is that so shocking? I mean, you and I were close. And we hung out a lot. And hello - co-captain," you shot her a momentarily teasing look, "of the soccer team, Dean's list, Olympic athlete, very charming, etc., the list goes on. Of course they were threatened."
Jessie finished a large swig of her drink, setting down the pint glass more heavily than intended on the table. Her face screwed up as she said, "That's the silliest thing I've ever heard."
Why would they have ever been jealous of her. They were the lucky ones. It was their bed you might climb into at night, their lips you would kiss and their hands you would hold.
"Jessie!" You laughed, leaning into the table again. "You are too humble for your own good. I told you. You had a lot of appeal."
"Well, not enough," Jessie muttered as she took another sip and raised her eyebrows, her gaze travelling over to Janine who was watching her tentatively. The blonde cleared her throat.
"So what I'm hearing is that UCLA Jessie wasn't all that different than national camp Jessie - just with marginally more debauchery," she interjected, diffusing any mounting tension.
It took you a moment, but you offered her a smile of agreement.
"Seems that way." A beat passed and you offered Jessie another smile. "Do you have any pictures from back then? You always had your camera out."
Your question broke Jessie out of her spiral. She wracked her brain momentarily for a response.
"Uh, no. I lost a lot of my old photos."
In reality, she deleted and threw out all of her pictures of you. All except one. It was that night at the beach, there was a moment of comfortable silence between you two and the last rays of sunlight were dipping below the horizon. You were looking out onto the sea, looking so peaceful and just so beautiful. That was her favourite photo of you.
Even when, one night in London, when she got home from a team outing and you had been on her mind all evening despite the fact that you hadn't texted her back in days; when she finally decided to put an end to this pointless and hopeless pining, she couldn't bring herself to delete that one photo.
Jessie ignored the flash of hurt that crossed your face.
"That's too bad," you said with a half smile. Jessie returned it and the mood at the table took a palpable dip. A few moments of quiet passed.
"Well, you two are in the same city again. You can take new ones together," y/friend offered brightly. You gave a light chuckle.
"I guess that depends on if you're too famous for me." You gave Jessie a smirk. Jessie was still in her head, until Janine nudged her under the table. She took a sip of her drink .
"Well, my schedule's pretty packed," Jessie said with a smirk of her own. The alcohol made it feel like she was on auto-pilot. She sat back and gave you a wink. "But I can make time for you."
You seemed caught off guard and gave a slightly awkward laugh though your cheeks blushed pink. You spoke somewhat wryly, "Well thank you."
Jessie cleared her throat and sat forward in her seat again, speaking earnestly this time. "No, seriously. Of course I'm not too famous to spend time with you. Now that's the silliest thing I've ever heard."
You propped an elbow on the table and rest your chin in your raised palm.
"Well, I look forward to making some new memories together."
Jessie held up her glass to you.
"Deal."
——————
A/N: Part Three is available here.
#jessie fleming#jessie fleming x reader#jflem#woso x reader#woso#woso imagine#canwnt x reader#portland thorns#janine beckie
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LittleSnack
a/n:ive been eating a lot lately, and getting a little insecure about it.. so here’s some comfort♡
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“You packed way too much food again!”
Your friend said in an appalled tone.
Atsushi Murasakibara’s ears perked at the mention of too much food, immediately lifting his head up from his previously sleeping position. Looking over at you right away, he stared down your loaded bento.
His mouth watered. Grilled beef, a side of fragrant pan noodles, dumplings, and … leftover Bibimbap. Now his mouth was watering ….
Of course, Murasakibara had finished his lunch long ago. Now that it was lunch though, he was sort of regretting it. No matter how many times he regrets eating his lunch too soon, he always does it again the next day…
“You eat like that everyday y/n… pretty soon, you’re gonna start gaining even more weight…” your friend continued with a judgmental overlook.
You laughed off her rude comment. “You know I’m not worried about that kind of stuff. I just have a big appetite.”
Your defense fell on deaf ears as your friend sighed. “Can’t you just use a normal excuse, like ‘I accidentally made too much!’ And offer the rest of what you shouldn’t eat to someone you like?”
You paused eating upon her words, annoyance prickling your good mood. “I don’t need to make an excuse for my eating habits… I’m happy just the way I am.” You replied calmly, continuing your lunch with a bit more attitude.
Murasakibara, overheating the entire thing, smirked. He’d always had a little bit of an admiration towards you and your large appetite. It was rare to find a girl who ate as much as you. But since he was never all that interested in girls, he made no effort in learning more about you than that.
Seeing this new side of you was nice. He liked the way you stood up for yourself, and took pride in the way you were. Not to mention, the food you brought in always looked homemade. He couldn’t help but wonder if you made it yourself.
“Whatever, just trying to look out for you.” Your friend shrugged, and kept silent about the subject.
Murasakibara glanced at you, instead of your food, and noticed a weird look on your face. Even after you finished the entirety of your bento, you still looked unsatisfied.
The food looked great, and he couldn’t imagine you’d still be hungry. Maybe you were; he was often still hungry after any meal he had too. That’s why he snacked so much, anyway.
That had to be it, you were snacky. No matter how delicious the food you had was, it was true you had nothing sweet.
Dessert was the most important part of a meal, after all.
Without realizing the meaning behind his actions before acting on them, he began searching his snack-school bag for what he had on him.
Four bags of different chips, three mambo sticks, two rice cakes, a few handfuls of Sakura mochi candies, a bag of hi-chew, and two red bean buns.
Looking at the assortment made his mouth water. He was definitely going to indulge in some snacks as well. Reaching in, he pulled out a bag of chips, a mambo stick, four Sakura mochi, a handful of hichew, and a red bean bun. He honestly had no idea what kind of food or snacks you liked, so he just grabbed a little bit of everything.
Hauling the load in his stupidly large hands, he quietly walked over to your desk. You were sitting alone now with your bento neatly put away, since lunch was only a minute from ending.
“Y/n-chin…” your classmate said in a deadpan tone, before laying the snacks out on your desk. Your eyes bulged wide in shock. Your mouth fell open, confused. Speechless, you craned your neck up to look at your tall classmate. “M-Murasakibara-kun…?” You asked.
He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You looked hungry… teach yells at me if she catches me snacking during class though, so careful not go get caught…” he looked away after catching your glistening gaze.
Why was he suddenly embarrassed?
“Y-you didn’t have to! I couldn’t..” you tried to offer the snacks back, but he already started walking away. “Eat them all y/n-chin~”
And just as he sat back in his seat, the class bell rang to start lessons. Crap, he was gonna have to sneak-snack again.
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Murasakibara was putting away his school materials, careful not to squish any of the snacks inside. “M-Murasakibara-kun…” you said quietly while standing over his desk. With an unimpressed glance, he looked at you, practically at each other’s height even though he was sitting.
“Thanks for the snacks today… they were really good.” You smiled at him. “I don’t have anything to repay you though, so…”
You looked down at your fidgeting fingers. “I-if you don’t mind, I’d like to cook you something. I-I always accidentally make too much food at home, enough for an extra bento or two… so, if there’s anything you’d like, I’d be happy to make something for you.”
As if buffering, Murasakibara sat unmoving in silence. Well, this was a surprise. He wasn’t sure how he should respond. He didn’t offer you the snacks to get something out of you, but he’d be lying if he didn’t want to eat your cooking.
“Really?” He asked.
You nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely!”
“You’re sure?” He asked again.
You laughed heartily at this. He wasn’t sure what was so funny, but your continued laughter was making him feel some type of way. It made him smile, like he was happy or something.
“Yes I’m sure! Do you have any requests?” You asked after finally getting your giggling under control.
Murasakibara looked up, and hummed in thought. “Anything I want…. That’s a dangerous question y/n-chin, since I like everything…”
You hummed in unison, and thought. “Buttered chicken?”
“Sounds yummy.”
“Sautéed carrots?”
His nose wrinkled. “Hate carrots.”
You giggled. “No carrots. Pork dumplings?”
“Sure…”
“Muchim?”
“As long as it isn’t too spicy.”
Satisfied, you nodded, and pulled your bag over your shoulder in preparation to leave. “Look forward to it, then!”
Murasakibara wasn’t sure why, but he felt the urge to call out for you when you began to walk away. He didn’t though, remained sitting while he watched you leave.
“What was that about?” Himuro asked suddenly, scaring the purple giant half to death. “Nothin’” he huffed in reply.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦
The next day, Murasakibara almost forgot about yesterday’s events. He forgot things pretty easily. As he put his shoes away, he began thinking about if he’d have enough time to eat his bento before the beginning of the day bell rang.
“Murasakibara-kun,” he heard his name call out to him from behind, halfway down the hall. He stopped, and looked back to see you with two large furushiki wrappings in hand. “I might have went a little overboard, sorry.” You laughed quietly.
Oh yeah, you promised to bring him lunch today. He wasn’t sure how he forgot that.
“Thanks,” he accepted the purple furushiki, surprised by its hefty weight.
“I hope it’s to your liking!” You grinned up at him. Caught up in surprise, he only just realized how fucking short you were. Everyone was short compared to him but, well, he could have easily missed you if he didn’t actively look down.
Before he had the chance to reply, you were jogging off to your shared classroom, carefree and greeting friends along the way.
…
The hours seemed to pass agonizingly slow between then and lunch time… Despite being successful in scarfing down the lunch his mom packed him for the day (as per usual), he was eager to finally enjoy the food he’d been wishing he could eat from your bento from afar.
…
Finally, the heavenly sound of the lunch bell ended morning lectures. Immediately, he pulled out the wrapped bento box, unwrapped the furushiki, and popped open the first of three boxes.
He wanted to eat slowly, savor each bite for its amazing flavor. But that was just impossible. He barely had enough time to chew between each bite, he was eating so fast.
Too distracted by the food in front of him, he hadn’t noticed you staring at him. “He sure is eating fast,” you chuckled to yourself, making your friend cock an eyebrow at you. “Why the sudden interest? Wait… isn’t that one of your lunch boxes? No, that’s definitely your furushiki on his desk. Y/n, did you..?!” She asked, almost choking on her own lunch.
“W-what can I say… I-I accidentally made too much…” you looked away from her suspecting squint. “Oh my god.” She whispered, looking back to Murasakibara. “Never for a thousand years would I have guessed… you and Mu—“ she tried to tease you, but you cut her off with a sush.
“Not out loud..!” You whispered red faced.
Glancing back again, you spotted Murasakibara seeking you out, mouth full and giving you a big thumbs up. You almost gasped, his approval earning a much deeper blush out of you.
Once he’d finished, he wrapped everything back up. Though, when he handed it back to you, it was much… lumpier than you remembered.
“It was good.” Murasakibara reported back to you in his usual dull tone. “Just good?” Your friend huffed. “That’s it?”
Murasakibara narrowed his eyes, not sure what she meant. It’s not like he was very fond of her anyway, given her attitude toward the way you ate in the first place. Was she trying to get on his nerves?
“She went out of her way to make extra food for you? Can’t you act a little more grateful for her kindness?” She asked, pulling her own finished dishes away from your desk.
“S-stop.!” You hissed.
Your friend shrugged, unfazed. “Just sayin’.” She said just before walking away, leaving you two in shock.
“D-don’t worry about—“ you tried to laugh off the poor attitude she left behind, but Murasakibara got the idea.
“The Muchim was a little spicy, but i really liked it. The rice you made was fluffier than how my mom makes it, so I liked it better. The sauce you put on the chicken was also different than I’ve had before, so I really liked that too… I also liked the way you fried the dumplings on the bottom…” he tried thinking of different ways to compliment your exceptional cooking, but he wasn’t really that good with words. Hell, he wasn’t very social in general. Talking to you at all was out of his normal behavior.
Nevertheless, his kind words struck a cord in you. “It wasn’t too much?” You asked.
“I could have thirds.” He admitted.
“I have some leftover from my own lunch, if you-“
“Nah, that’s your food y/n-chin. You should finish it.” Murasakibara pointed at the lunchbox wrapping he handed back to you. “I also left some snacks in there for you as thanks, make sure to eat those too.”
That explains why the wrapping was lumpy. You couldn’t help but laugh again. “That’s thoughtful of you, thanks.”
Murasakibara nodded, and started walking back to his desk, but felt a tug on his sleeve that made him stop and look back.
“Sorry… but, do you mind if I call you by a nickname? After all, not only do you call me by my first name, but it’s also shortened…”
He looked down at you silently for a moment too long to feel comfortable. “I-I just mean, Murasakibara is a bit of a mouthful, you know?”
Crap, were you overstepping? Nervously, you averted your gaze. He liked seeing this shy side of you too. Atsushi smiled, and sat in the seat your friend left open. “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”
Happily surprised at his change of tone, you unfolded the lunch cloth, and pulled out a red bean bun.
Til the end of lunch, you both sat and chatted with one another.
#kuroko no basket#kuroko no basuke x reader#knb#knb x reader#knb murasakibara#murasakibara atsushi#atsushi murasakibara#murasakibara x reader#the basketball which kuroko plays
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Cockpit 11 | knj
Pair: Namjoon x reader
Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.
Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood, major toxic behavior, mentions of abuse
taglist: @wecanpretendit | @whoisbts | @yoonjinsrkive | @my-current-mood-is | @joonzseoulmate | @parkinglot-nights | @missbangtangirl | @m00njinnie | @mantaecrolss | @busanbby-jjk | @bangtanxmegan | @nochelunaxx | @certified-lana-del-rey-lover
A/N: Disclaimer babes i'm not majored in law but i have searched to have a background on the actual thing to try include actual right details and pls let me know if i missed something, ps this may include typos because of my keyboard it's going insane and driving me nuts :)
Previous | Next
“Ew, so you practically baby sit his son the entire flight?” Even when it’s just a video call, you could clearly see the cringe on Taehyung’s voice. You had just arrived to your place a couple hours ago, Namjoon drove you to your place and went home so he could finally be prepared for the hearing that’s actually going to be tomorrow.
You were on your nerves the entire time, your appetite is long gone for almost the past week, your nausea is creeping back on you and you find your hands to be shaking occasionally even when there was little to no effort done that day.
Namjoon was nervous too but he was masking it pretty well to try and make it easier for you even when it should be the opposite. You were genuinely worried about the outcome, what if they go through trial? What if the entire divorce is cancelled? It can’t happen, you find yourself near panicking when this thought crawls into your head so you shake it off immediately before you dive into over thinking, and you don’t really need that right now.
“Yeah, I did.” You roll your eyes. “But it wasn’t that bad.”
“He’s still a kid.” He shrugs, “And how was he? Was he nice?”
“He was okay.” You were folding your laundry, “Are you coming over tomorrow?”
Your friends were kind enough to gather at your place during the hearing tomorrow just to keep your mind off of it, and since all of you enjoy Jungkook’s noodles, he offered that he would make a big pot for you all to have for lunch tomorrow.
And it was sweet of Hoseok that he actually called you earlier and told you that he can’t be there for tomorrow’s lunch, and he was “Work” to do, and he’ll be back right after. He just did it to reassure you and promised you that it’s going to be okay.
“Yeah, I’m coming over alone though.” He finally parks his car and gets into his building, “And your girlfriend?”
“She went over to her parents to celebrate her grandmother’s birthday, I’m on my own.” He unlocks his place and gets inside, “I’m home now, I’ll see you tomorrow chief, okay?”
“Mhm, see you.” You wave your hand and hang up, you throw your phone down and just lay down on your couch, your head faces the ceiling and you start thinking.
What if Namjoon gets the divorce? What happens after that? That’s the question you never asked yourself. You’re convinced that there’s something between you two, but it’s still not labeled nor official.
What happens after the hearing regarding you two?
You roll your eyes at yourself, you just gave yourself an extra thing to over think about when your thoughts are already crammed inside your head.
You want tomorrow night to come faster than ever, you missed sleeping without having to struggle before or even without having nightmares.
Your phone buzzes a message and you sigh before you grab it, thinking it was probably one of your friends but it’s Namjoon who texted you a picture of his suit hung up in his closet.
“do you think it’ll look good?”
“tie or no tie?”
“off to get myself a divorce tomorrow hahaha.”
A little breath escapes your nose when you chuckle softly at his message, your fingers hover over the screen to type back.
“I guess no tie.”
“how can you joke about this I’m scared.”
And only seconds after he Facetime’s you a video call and you answer him right away, he’s in his bed smoking a cigarette and having a drink, “I know I don’t have to ask you why because I already know.”
“What if—“
He interrupts. “Hey, no what if’s. I know everything is going to be okay, I’m well prepared and I trust Hobi, don’t you?”
“I do, I just don’t trust her.” You shrug. He takes a sip of his drink and shakes his head. “Just so you know, regarding the outcome, and whatever happens, I want you to know that I would still choose you.”
It does reassure you a little, but still you don’t want anything to be in the way between you two, and you know his wife tried to set him up so many times, what if she actually figured something out without you two knowing?
“Y/N.” He laughs. “Stop over thinking, I’m the one going through the divorce not you.”
“Alright. I’m not going to call you nor text you anything tomorrow, I’ll get the news eventually.” Your stomach drops just by the thought of it, he nods. “I’m sure you will, I just called Jay.”
“Poor little thing.” You pout, he takes a drag from his cigarette and puffs away the smoke. “Apparently he likes you.”
“I like him too.” You can’t help but smile, even when you’re a little surprised on the inside, children don’t usually like you. “Is he having fun at his grandparents?”
“Oh yeah, he enjoys being around his cousins, he’s used to staying there.” He turns off his cigarette, “Oh, Hobi is calling, can I call you back later?”
“Mhm, I’ll chat with you later.” You blow him a kiss and he blows one back before saying goodbye and hanging up.
Of course you hardly fall asleep that night, you did see it coming so you weren’t that surprised. You woke up with sore shoulders and a headache that didn’t go away even after having your morning coffee. You decided to give it some time before taking a pill.
As for him, Namjoon had a good night sleep, only his was full of nightmares, and of course he kept twisting and turning before he did manage to fall asleep, his morning was a little similar to yours, only he washed up and got dressed, he bathed in his own cologne and finally got on the road after texting you.
“Good morning :*”
“you were right”
“no tie looks way better”
“have a nice day beautiful <;3”
The clock is ticking and the hearing is a little over an hour away and he can feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest, there was little to no traffic luckily and Namjoon is the type of guy that considers the tiniest thing to be a sign that his day will go well or not, and no traffic could probably be a sign.
He makes it to Hoseok’s office in no time and walks inside, of course Hoseok was already there hours ago finishing the last couple of things and finishing the documents that he may possibly need.
“Good morning Hobi.”
“You’re here early.” Hoseok looks at the watch on his wrist. “Good morning, how are you feeling?”
Namjoon plops down on the couch in front of Hoseok’s disk with sigh escaping his lips. “I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t nervous. I want things to go well.”
“You’re in safe hands, don’t worry.” Hoseok walks towards the coffee machine beside his disk. “Coffee?”
“Sure, yeah.” Namjoon takes out his pack of cigarettes. “Can I?”
“Sure.” Hoseok cracks the window open before he makes two cups of coffee and sits in front of Namjoon to have a smoke as well, “Her lawyer called, and they think they have something in their hand but they don’t.”
“What if they found something else we don’t know of?” Namjoon leans his elbows on his thighs. “I’m worried.”
Hoseok take a puff of his smoke before crossing his legs. “Is that what you’re worried about? Or the entire thing generally?”
Namjoon takes out a cigarette and lights it up. “The entire thing, I’m worried over Y/N, what if the outcome doesn’t come in our benefit?”
“Then you still don’t know who your lawyer is.” Hoseok grins, “Don’t worry about Y/N, no matter what the outcome is, she’s going to be okay.”
Namjoon opens his mouth and he’s so close to saying it out loud to Hoseok, but he’s a little hesitant.
Of course he’s not unsure about the way he feels about you, he’s just hesitant on how he’s going to share the fact itself. He wants you to be the one to hear it first, but he feels the need to reassure Hoseok, since he’s really protective over you. “Hobi I…”
It looks like it’s coming out earlier than expected.
“Hmm?” Hoseok’s gut feeling was never wrong, and he kind of knows what’s about to be said.
“I… I know this happened quickly, but the past four months are the happiest I’ve been in my life.” His thoughts are racing through his head when he speaks again. “I’m getting the divorce mainly because I want her instead.”
“Instead?”
“I feel like I wasted the past thirty years of my life being with someone I cannot stand and will not stand no matter how hard I tried.” He shrugs his shoulders, slowly getting relieved at the fact that he’s spilling what’s been kept inside his heart as he never shared it with anyone. “I’ll choose Y/N over anyone anytime.”
Hoseok turns off his cigarette and crosses his arms. “But you just said it, it’s been only three months, aren’t you worried that you’d change your mind? Or probably the way you feel may change.”
He scratches his head and looks into Hoseok’s eyes. “I liked her in the beginning, you know the way you like any girl at the bar, and I was totally unfair to her when I hid everything and wasn’t completely honest with her, and deep inside I thought that I might actually lose her if I told her the truth. And when she found out I was a little relieved even when I was the bad guy.”
Hoseok is a smart man and due to being in his field for so long, he can easily tell if someone was being honest or not, Namjoon does seem genuine to him, the man gave up his marriage just to be with you, and he wouldn’t do that if he never felt anything for you.
“And when I saw her on that plane to Ilsan, I knew it was a sign that I shouldn’t let her go this time, and I can’t risk losing her again.” Namjoon puts off his cigarette and shrugs. “She makes me happy.”
“What’s your next step Joon?” Hoseok asks. “After the divorce.”
A smile creeps on Namjoon’s face when he crosses his arms. “I want her to be my girlfriend, I want everyone to know about her, I want to show her off.”
Hoseok was always your wingman back when you two were young, he would go around and ask guys you liked how they felt about you just so he can tell you later, and as much as he wanted to tell you every single thing about the conversation that just happened, he won’t.
“I actually think it’s very brave of you to decide and go through a relationship again when you’re working your way out of one.” Hoseok shrugs. “No offense, I’m telling you this as your friend.”
“None taken. I know, and you can’t believe how bad this experience was, and I can’t wait to be over with it, I thought I’d be traumatized by women for life, but Y/N is different on so many levels, and to be honest I did compare them both so many times, but she can never live up to Y/N.” Namjoon scoffs.
“Well.” Hoseok puts his hands on his own knees for support before getting up and looks at the time on his wrist. “As long as you two are happy, but for now we need to go.”
-
“Jungkook please don’t make it spicy.” Taehyung hovers behind Jungkook who’s standing in front of the stove and opening up the noodles packets.
“No put all the spice in and please pass on the seaweed, it makes me want to puke.” You stand next to Jungkook and watch him work, before he rolls his eyes and turns off the heat. “Okay, you two, either shut up or leave the kitchen.”
“Y/N? Did you order something for delivery?” Seokjin calls your name from the living room and you rush outside to open the door.
You ordered birthday cake for Namjoon, of course you didn’t forget, and since all of you are gathering at your place, you were going to celebrate it.
“Birthday cake?” Seokjin unsurely asks. “What if—“
“Hey, there no what if anymore, no matter what the outcome is, we’re going to celebrate his birthday. If he did get the divorce then there’s two reasons to celebrate, and if he didn’t, then we’ll celebrate it to make him feel better.”
“You’re totally in love with him aren’t you.” Jimin gets up to look at the cake. You roll your eyes and close the box to put the cake in the fridge. “You know sometimes I regret not having girl friends and choosing you guys instead.”
“You don’t mean that.” Jimin carelessly shrugs, “Jungkook hurry up we’re hungry.”
“You need to relax.” Seokjin tucks your hair behind your ear. “You’re acting all paranoid, the hearing already started and I know there’s nothing I could say to make this easier for you, but trust me it will be fine.”
You take a long sigh and take a seat in the living room. “I know, but his wife knows what she’s doing and that’s what I’m worried about.”
“Don’t you trust Hobi?” He asks. “He’s like, the number one divorce lawyer in Seoul.”
“Speaking of which.” Yoongi walks out of the bathroom to join you in the living room. “Did Namjoon pay Hoseok?”
“Yes.” Jungkook walks out of the kitchen with the large pot of noodles in his hands, using the sleeves of his top to protect him from the heat. “Hobi hyung told me.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” You shrug your shoulders. “Hobi’s doing his job after all.”
“But he’s our friend now.” Seokjin grabs a pair of chopsticks and you immediately object. “I know he is, but you have to put business aside, Hobi is an excellent lawyer and he deserves to be paid even if it was me getting the divorce.”
The entire room goes silent as they start scooping noodles into their plates and devouring the food, you still don’t have the appetite so you barely put one ladleful in your plate and force yourself to finish it.
Your phone buzzes a text and you rush to take it out of your pocket, it’s a text from Hoseok.
“Oh my god.” Your stomach drops. “They’re on their way here.”
-
“File number 3501CR. Mr. Kim versus Mrs Lee.”
“I am here for Mrs. Lee.” Her lawyer speaks, and Hoseok speaks right after. “And I am here for Mr. Kim Namjoon.”
“Mr. Jung, glad to see you.” The judge gets up on his feet to handshake Hoseok, he was pretty popular and loved, people enjoyed his company so much and most lawyers want to be taught and trained under him.
“Glad to see you too sir.” Hoseok shakes his hand back. Namjoon’s pounding heart still hasn’t calmed down but oh well, the judge knows Hoseok so this may serve his benefit.
“Alright, you can go ahead.” The judge orders and both lawyers hand over their files, Namjoon’s anxiety increases when he sees her file thicker than his, do they have something new?
“I’m here to speak for my client, Mister Kim, who filed a divorce 11 months and 23 days ago, he gave his testimony to the previous attorney who handed me over this case.” Hoseok flips through the file. “Sir the testimony is attached in pages 4 through 24.”
“Mhm.” The judge flips through the papers, taking his time to read some of the highlighted points that Hoseok worked on.
Namjoon’s testimony was taken long ago, he included everything about his fucked up marriage, he mentioned that he didn’t get his rights as a husband, and the mental stress she puts him and his son through, how downhill Jay’s health deteriorates with every arguments, even included medical reports, the last one being signed by you, when you found out that Namjoon was married.
“Your honor, Kim Jaehyuk is their son, also known as Jay in the passport copies.” Hoseok flips through the papers. “3 Years old, with a medical history of seizures, occurring on the attached dates, clipped to that are picture of the hospital trips taken by mister Kim’s dash cam, and below that are his medical reports.”
“What are mister Kim’s conditions to this divorce?” The judge asks as he flips through the papers.
“Full custody of Kim Jaehyuk, and no asset distribution.” Hoseok answers right away even when Namjoon doesn’t mind neither.
If she did get the custody of Jay he will be able to see him every now and then, and for the assets even when she wasn’t worth it, he was willing to give anything away to get rid of her.
“What do you do for a living mister Kim?” The judge asks and Namjoon clears his throat and answers. “I’m an aircraft pilot sir.”
“How long have you been an aircraft pilot?” He asks and Namjoon tilts his head. “Almost 6 years.”
“Sir I have included his portfolio the page after, clipped behind it is a laboratory test that rules off any drug addiction or biological disease that may disable him. And on the next page is a written psychological evaluation written by a specialist, that clearly shows that mr. Kim may be suffering from recurrent panic attacks that occurred only in the past three years, meaning the years he was married to Mrs Lee.”
Namjoon feels himself about to have one of those from the excessive pounding in his chest, he even finds himself hyper ventilating that his own watch notifies him to log in a work out.
“Mhm.” This time the judge takes his time to read the entire paper, giving Namjoon a couple glances here and there.
And even when he’s really on the verge of panicking, he was doing a very good job hiding it, they could barely tell by his body language and the way he sits. Only when he takes a sip of water or anything, his hands were shaking like crazy.
“Anything else?” The judge asks minutes after. “One last thing sir, the last two pages are bank statements of both mr. Kim and his spouse.”
“Alright, thank you mr. Jung. You did great.” And Hoseok nods before closing the file in front of him, her lawyer finally opens the thick file that’s been concerning Namjoon.
He even turns to look at Hoseok and their eyes meet, Hosok gives him a reassuring nod and sits back to listen to what they have. This is the part Namjoon has been dreading the most.
The judge looks at her lawyer and nods. “Go ahead.”
Namjoon pulls his chair closer to Hoseok’s to see the file that they have a copy of. “Between page 4 and 38 are Mrs. Lee’s testimony sir.”
“Mhm.” The judge also takes his time to read, Namjoon does the same and dives into the papers to scan the entire thing.
The testimony was taken only a couple weeks ago and it seems like she didn’t include all the details or she probably purposely skipped some, and of course a huge part of it Namjoon could easily deny that it happened. “Mrs. Lee, I take it clearly that you’re accusing Mr. Kim to be abusive and obsessive and alcoholic.”
“Yes your honor.” The lawyer speaks, which makes the judge abruptly flip through the papers and the lawyer immediately speaks. “Sir if you open page 41 you can see that there’s a sealed medical report written by an emergency resident to prove that my client was in fact a victim of abuse.”
The judge rips the sealed envelope that has your signature on it which makes Hoseok stifle a grin, and what’s coming up Namjoon didn’t expect at all.
“Mr. Jung?” The judge passes the paper to Hoseok and he grabs it in his hand, eyeing it carefully.
It was rigged, and this wasn’t the report you wrote even when you had your signature on it. The report clearly said that she was presented to the ER with bruises on her upper torso and her back, a cut wound on her forehead and a broken toe.
Namjoon is about to lose his mind, none of this is true and she knows that. Their eyes meet and she immediately looks away and crosses her arms. Zero signs of regret on her face.
“Do you have anything to say?” The judge asks Hoseok, and he nods. “Sure,” He digs into his suit case and takes out a paper to hand it to the judge. “Sir this is data is confidential but she visited the hospital using Mr. Kim’s health insurance, so we were allowed full access to their files, and this is the original report, written by the same doctor on the same hospital, and if you put it side by side for comparison, it’s printed on the same date and time.”
“Agreed.” The judge nods his head and puts both papers aside. “And sir regarding alcoholism, I already presented laboratory tests and Mr. Kim is a social drinker.”
The judge looks at her lawyer and signals him to continue. “On pages 44 and 45 are a witness’ testimony of Mr. Kim seen in a wine cellar with a female aged between 25 and 32, and on the next page is a written report of a video tape that if you allow me to show you.”
“Of course.” The judge agrees and the lawyer turns his iPad towards him to show him the clip of CCTV that they planned for.
Namjoon can clearly see the video tape and he squints his eyes to see the box of the Legos being put on the floor in the end of the aisle, it was you, and god it shatters his heart that you witnessed something that was meaningless.
“Mr. Jung? I guess you can’t deny a video tape.” The judge grabs his pen and starts writing, Hoseok laughs and shrugs his shoulders. “Watch me do it sir, I’m surprised you still don’t know me.” And the judge laughs too.
Hoseok digs into his suitcase again and takes out a bunch of papers. “Sir this is an order placed by an IP address located in Seoul, which is Mr. Kim’s apartment, the date of this order is in July 28th. And the next paper is Mr. Kim’s flight schedule that week, that clearly shows that he was out of town when this order was placed. And the paper after that is the delivery receipt showing that this package arrived a day prior to the video on the CCTV.”
The judge wasn’t surprised that Hoseok was good at his job, he knew when and how to represent anything that defends his own clients. And the judge was also shocked on how everything was manipulated, showing that Namjoon was set up.
“What are Mrs. Lee’s conditions to this divorce?” The lawyer asks and this is where Hoseok’s heart drops, if they don’t agree on each other’s conditions then the divorce will be transferred to trial and it will take much longer with no guaranteed end.
Namjoon is aware that they have to settle on something, so he grabs a pencil to write down on a small paper to show Hoseok. “I’ve been compromising my entire life and I wouldn’t mind doing it now.”
And Hoseok nods, but still he will try his best to make them agree to Namjoon’s conditions.
“Partial custody slash co parenting, and a 50/50 assets distribution.” The lawyer shrugs his shoulders.
Hoseok speaks without consulting Namjoon. “Partial custody is agreed, assets distribution 80/20.”
Her and her lawyer go through a debate quietly, giving Hoseok the time to glance at Namjoon, he nods his head and whispers. “She’s not getting more than 20.”
“70/30.” The lawyer speaks and Hoseok objects immediately. “No more than 80/20,”
“We need time to negotiate sir.” Her lawyer turns towards the judge to which he agrees immediately. “Mr. Jung please understand that my client is sharing custody, she needs the assets for their son.”
“If she needs the money for the shared custody let my client have it full then.” Hoseok shrugs. “Or zero assets and he’ll give his son the money he needs, it’s either one of those options or 80/20.”
“Mr. Kim, I want you to know that—“
“Sir please, I’m here for Mr. Kim, and if you need anything I’m the one you should talk to, this is what Mr. Kim wants and I was assigned to speak for him.” Hoseok interrupts mainly because he knows Namjoon will give them what they want, but he always made sure that his clients got their desired ends with the least amount of damage.
“75/25 last call.” Her lawyer makes one last offer, Hoseok turns to Namjoon to seek for an answer.
“5 percent is worth like 9 thousand dollars.” Hoseok whispers. “It’s your call.”
“I’ll give her the 25 percent on the spot, but what about the custody?”
“Shared custody, but since it’s her choice she gets to decide what days you can have Jay.” Hoseok puts his pin down. “Let’s settle?”
“Yes.” Namjoon nods, his heart racing more than ever, Hoseok turns to face the lawyer and judge and speaks up. “Agreed.”
“Mr. Kim do you have any debts?” The judge takes out the divorce papers and gets to writing, “No sir.” Namjoon answers right away.
“Mrs. Lee and Mr. Kim, you have agreed on 75/25 assets distribution with shared custody, but the court will decide based on your profiles and your financial status in order to accept your agreement, is that understood?”
“Yes your honor.” Namjoon and his minutes away to become ex spouse answer at the same time.
“Mr. Kim you have two apartments, on located in Seoul and the other is located in Ilasn am I correct?” The judge asks again and Namjoon agrees.
“Sir if you check the last page on our file, you can see that we hired a real estate agent to evaluate the cost of both apartments.” Her lawyer speaks which makes Namjoon scoff, she’s clearly after his money and he can’t understand why he didn’t realize that before?
Hoseok rushes to open the file to check out the actual price of both properties, opens up his calculator and starts adding and subtracting numbers that are surprisingly big, he grabs out a paper and writes down for Namjoon to read. “25 percent is approximately worth the place in Ilsan and a little over the price of the other car.”
And Namjoon grabs the pen and writes down. “Ok. Let her have the car and the place.”
“Your honor.” Hoseok clears his throat. “I would like to inform you that 25 percent of Mr. Kim’s assets is worth the place in Ilsan and a little under the price of the car she’s driving, Mr. Kim wants to make an offer for Mrs. Lee to have the property and it’s kind of him to offer her the car without paying him what’s left of the car’s price on the market today.”
“What do you say?” The judge looks at her lawyer, who’s already discussing the offer with her.
Namjoon starts thinking months after, Jay will have to fly twice a week to be with his parents, which makes him want to consider a new flight schedule to be able to take him there. He already visits Ilsan repeatedly so it shouldn’t be a problem.
“We agree sir.”
“Alright then, we’re over for today. And in an hour we’ll hopefully have an answer for you.” The judge collects the papers and stands up on his feet. “It was nice to see you again Mr. Jung.” He shakes Hoseok’s hand and leaves the meeting room.
“How are you feeling?” Hoseok rubs Namjoon’s shoulder and he nods. “I can be better.”
“Relax, the hard part is over. It’s going to go just as planned, and we’ll go celebrate back home.” Hoseok winks at Namjoon and grabs out his phone to text you.
“Hey chief”
“We’re on our way home”
“Tell Jungkook to save us some noodles we’re starving :(”
Hoseok knows he sent the message way too early just to tease you and keep you tip toeing, he knows you won’t call or ask, so once he sees the read receipts turn blue he puts his phone back in his pocket. “You wanna go out for a smoke?”
“Yeah.” Namjoon gets up on his feet and leaves the meeting room, the aura was suffocating specially when he senses that he’s being looked at the entire time by her.
Her gaze never left him, deep down in her mind she’s still digging deep, she’s one hundred percent sure that he’s seeing someone else, but she can’t prove anything. And what’s killing her the most is that even when they’re getting a divorce around the same table, she still had a dash of hope that the entire thing will be cancelled.
Both her concrete evidences were rigged and she kind of saw it coming, her father warned her repeatedly that his lawyer was one of the best in the republic.
For a second a thought crosses through her mind and she recalls when she visited the emergency room with her father, she clearly remembers you when you agreed to help them with the rigged report, which when her lawyer found out told them that none of what you said was true, so when he opened the envelope he knew exactly why you lied.
And to be frank, the lawyer her family hired was the cheapest in the market since they’re already broke, so he rigged papers to try and win the case. And speaking of lawyers, another thought crosses her mind, why is Namjoon this close to his lawyer?
Her thoughts are racing back to back, is it possible that you and Namjoon know each other? But oh well, it’s too late for that now.
-
“Did you see their faked medical report?” Hoseok blows out the smoke. “I was so close to laughing.”
“Did you know they were going to manipulate it?” Namjoon leans against the bench and turns off the cigarette he just finished. Hoseok nods right away. “Yeah, I already told Y/N to give me a copy earlier this week, but gosh I wish I told it to the judge before they did.”
“You did great anyway, I’m really impressed, your job suits you like a glove.” Namjoon laughs and Hoseok nods. “I know, but yours was really easy since their lawyer was stupid enough to rig confidential papers.”
“Isn’t that illegal? Shouldn’t he be punished or something?” Namjoon asks out of curiosity. Hoseok blows the last puff of smoke and turns off his cigarette. “Everyone rigs papers in this field, it’s quite fucked up actually. Let’s go to the car and put some cologne on before going back up.”
They rush to their cars and to spray cologne so they could mask away the smell of cigarettes before heading back upstairs to the meeting room.
She’s still there with her lawyer with her arms crossed. Hoseok pulls a chair to sit down and nudges Namjoon. “How did you even marry her?”
Namjoon stifles a laugh and elbows Hoseok before whispering back. “Well, I’m here today because I regret that.”
The judge knocks on the door and enters the meeting room with one single paper in his hand, and considering Hoseok has been in this field for a while know, he knows what this paper means.
“Mr. Kim. Mrs. Lee. The court has made a decision.”
-
You’re in your bathroom vomiting the noodles you forced yourself to eat, it has been over an hour since Hoseok’s message and they’re still not here yet. And Hoseok’s text message with the sad emoji was the trigger you needed for the vomiting parade to start.
“It’s okay.” Yoongi rubs your back and tugs your hair away from your face. “I’ve never seen you this paranoid, you need to give yourself a break.”
“I wish I can, I’m sleep deprived and I haven’t eaten something properly for the past week.” You stand in front of the bathroom sink and wash your face. “I don’t even know why I’m this nervous, I’m not the one who’s going through the actual divorce.”
“I think it’s because you have something for Joon.” He shrugs, “And you probably haven’t realized that yet.”
“You’re right, I’m still unsure how I feel, maybe that’s why I’m anticipating the entire divorce thing to see how I actually feel about him.” You open the bathroom door and take a look at the living room, Seokjin and Jungkook are using your game console to play Just dance, and both of them look like actual idiots dancing.
“I wish I could be this careless.” You sigh, Yoongi rubs your shoulders and pulls you into the living room to watch the dumb and dumber dance.
“Are you feeling better?” Taehyung asks. “Do you want me to make you noodles? You’re probably hungry now.”
“No I’m good.” You unscrew your bottle of water and take a sip, He scoots closer to you and wraps his arm around you. “Just so you know, I don’t like seeing you like this.”
“What do you mean?” You pout and he chuckles and pinches your cheek. “I’m used to seeing the strong Y/N who never let anything effect her. You’re a smart successful woman who knows how to handle everything and control her feelings.”
“I’m still human after all. I’m allowed to break character when I’m going through something like this.” You lean your head against his chest. “I hate going through this much stress and sometimes I regret voluntarily going through this.”
“But it’s going to be worth it at the end, I know it.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “You should know it too.”
You hear the door code being clicked and your stomach drops, your face even grows pale and you break into cold sweat, the guys even hear the code being clicked and they pause the game. Your eyes are close to popping out of their socket and your body refuses to function, you can’t get up on your feet since they’re too week so your body lags and decides to stay on the couch.
Yoongi and Jimin get up on their feet and Jungkook and Seokjin who were already dancing are gazing towards the door.
“I’m telling you, I had my blinker on but she still honking behind me, and I ended up flipping her because she was a terrible drier.” Namjoon laughs and high fives Hoseok when they enter the place. “No way, I flipped her off too. But she did get a speeding ticket after, did you see her?” Hoseok laughs back and puts his suit case down on the ottoman near the door.
“Yeah, and she saw us driving past her too.” Namjoon looks towards the living room to see everyone on their feet except you and Taehyung, “What’s up guys?” Hoseok takes off his suit jacket and throws it onto the couch. Complete silence is the answer he gets as everyone is anticipating the answer.
They were all worried equally but hid it from you so well. After all, Namjoon is their friend now and they do care about him and want the best for him.
“You tell us.” Yoongi speaks. “What’s the outcome.”
“O-oh.” Hoseok scratches the back of his head.
You feel your heartbeat an inch away from stopping and you even hold your breath, not only the sad emoji concerns you now, also Hoseok’s reaction was the end of you. You feel each heartbeat taking away a breath from you that you’re slowly starting to get dizzy.
“What?” Jimin’s shoulders sulk in disappointment, Jungkook puts the gaming console down on the coffee table and walks towards Namjoon, “It’s okay hyung, even if didn’t get it today, you will have it eventually.”
“What are you talking about?” Namjoon looks at the youngest, and Jungkook blinks in confusion. “The divorce.”
“But I got the divorce.” Namjoon’s smile creeps on his face and Hoseok yells right after. “He got it!”
They all cheer excitedly and get up to congratulate Namjoon and Hoseok but you’re still in your spot on the couch, your face fell in your palms when he heard he got it and you’re too overwhelmed to do any reaction. This divorce drained you, but you’re more than happy that it’s over.
Namjoon hugs back Jimin and Jungkook and takes off his suit jacket, his eyes on you when you’re still curled up on the couch with your face in your hands before approaching you and going down on his knees in front of the couch. “Don’t I get a congratulations hug or what?”
You held back the tears of relief and take your hands off of your face and lean in to hug him, burying your face in his neck and wrapping your arms tightly around him. “It’s okay, everything is okay now.” He whispers for only you two to hear and kisses you on the cheek. “I’m so sorry for making you go through this, but believe me I wouldn’t have done it without you.”
“How did it go?” You pull back from the hug, he leans his forehead against yours. “It went great, and now I can finally take you out on proper dates and show you off.”
“Aren’t you going to kiss her or what?” Jungkook plops down beside you on the couch and you roll your eyes. “With you in the room? I’m not so sure.”
“I heard you two fucking before do you think kissing her would matter?” The younger crosses his arms and Jimin plops next to him. “You heard them too? I thought it was only me.”
Namjoon rolls his eyes when Jimin starts imitating you. “Oooh Namjoon, please, don’t stop. Oooh Namjoon you’re so big. But are you though?” He even looks down at Namjoon’s pants, you grab the pillow on the couch next to you and hit Jimin with it repeatedly. “I’m so sorry, I know they’re weird.”
“But you do sound like that though.” Namjoon laughs which makes you hit him with the pillow too.
“Jungkook, go make us something to eat.” Hoseok finally sits down, you nod your head. “Yeah please, I’m hungry too.”
“You didn’t eat yet?” Namjoon tugs your hair off of your face and Jimin answers him. “She did but she ended up vomiting it.”
Namjoon’s heat melts and he pulls you in for a hug again and smothers you with little kisses all over your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
You hug him back and get up on your feet. “Let’s go get you changed.” You pull him into your bedroom and close the door. “Tell me everything.”
“You know, I’ve never been this happy on a birthday before.” He unbuttons his shirt and takes a seat onto your bed. “Come here.”
You walk towards him and you’re about to sit beside him but he pulls you to sit onto his legs. “Hey, we’ll do anything you want later, but please tell me what happened first.”
He fumbles with the collar of your sweatshirt and gazes down onto your lips before looking onto your eyes. “I gave her the house in Ilsan and her car, and we’re sharing custody of Jay, the judge decided that he’ll stay in Seoul for two weeks and then go to Ilsan for the other two weeks and be with his mother.”
“She doesn’t deserve shit, she had no idea what she had in her hand and she completely lost you.” You scratch the back of his head, he grins and shrugs one shoulder. “Well now I got you.”
You nod your head slowly. “Hmm, you practically didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend yet so I’m guessing you still didn’t get me.”
“Yet?” He laughs and nuzzles his nose against yours before teasing you. “Well, I’m starting to wonder what being single feels like.”
“Oh yeah?” You whisper and hover your lips over his before pulling back. “I don’t think you’ll like it that much.”
“And why is that?” He runs his hands on your thighs, you put your hands over his and get back up on your feet. “Because you won’t get to spend your nights with someone as sexy and as beautiful as I am.”
“Fuck, you’re absolutely right.” He stands up and pulls you in for one single kiss on your lips. “But hey, in my defense, I want it to be special so you’re going to have to be patient.”
“Maybe someone else will beat you to it.” You pull back and grab him out something to wear. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”
-
His and his ex wife’s family are going crazy in Ilsan, his father fired hers and took everything away from him in a blink of an eye, and all the projects he was working on and that were funded by the Kim’s are on hold and are being handled legally by someone professional.
Mr. Kim was kind enough to not ask for the money they stole back, and he was kind enough to finish her sibling education since some of them considered him like a father or like an uncle.
Her father was going hysterical and he started losing his mind, the projects and the big plans he was working on evaporated in the air in seconds, and of course they’re forcing their daughter to sell the house and the car that she got from the divorce just to be able to fund and cover one of the smallest projects he’s been working on.
But still, it would cover it for less than a year, after that there’s nothing he can do about it.
Namjoon’s family made plans to go visit their son the next day and congratulate him since he’s the one who exposed the other family even when it wasn’t on purpose. And they were going to offer their help on transporting Jay to Seoul and back so he wouldn’t have to take a day off from his job.
Meanwhile you were getting ready to go stay at Namjoon’s for the night, since he insisted and you were never there before, so you agreed and got ready before going there.
The moment you get inside the house, you thought you were going to feel bittersweet about it and about the fact that you were one of the reasons of this divorce. This house once had a housewife and she’s no longer here.
But it’s the exact opposite. Victory tastes so sweet and you don’t feel half bad for her, she’s the villain in his story and she doesn’t even deserve the end she got, she deserves worse.
You see Jay’s scattered toys here and there and something inside you feels greedy, you feel the need to let her know that you’re going to replace her, and that her loss no longer matters.
You feel the need to show her that he’s way happier with someone else, you feel the need to show her that you’re in her house, on her bed.
You throw your top off when you actually feel your body heat up, it’s either you getting horny or your body acting up on the greediness you feel.
“Do you want me to show you around?” Namjoon’s eyes hover down to your tits that still have his love bites on it from two nights ago. “Fuck you’re making it hard for me to focus.”
“Sure, show me around.” You put your top on the couch beside you and walk further inside the house, he gives you a little house tour, showing you the two furnished room that they used to sleep separately in, and both of them are familiar.
One you saw behind him as you video called him for hours. And the other one was the one you saw in your nightmares, similar to every exact detail which makes the hair on your body erect. It was so weird and scary somehow.
“Are you okay?” He stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in closer. “Yeah, I’m alright, I love your place.”
“You do?” He whispers, burying his face into your neck to inhale your scent, secretly wishing for you to leave your own scent in his place to replace the old one. Any place that has your scent is like a home to him.
“Mhm.” You giggle when he reaches his hand inside your bra and squeeze onto one of your tits. “Your hands are cold.”
“They are?” He nibbles onto your ear. “Aren’t you tired? Do you want me to give you a massage?”
“Stop, last time your massage ended with a cream pie Joonie, that was cute and shit but we need to be a little more careful.” You laugh and he mirrors your laugh and whispers. “I’ll cum in your mouth this time, or on that beautiful face, what do you say?”
Your panties soak in milliseconds at his words, you let out a hitched breath and clear your throat, you need to say something but he left you speechless. And who are you to actually say no?
“Debatable.” You manage to say and he chuckles before pulling back. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“Wine, or whiskey, your call.” You shrug one shoulder, he presses a kiss onto your shoulder. “How about a couple shots of tequila?”
“You’re totally trying to get me into bed.” You walk out of the bedroom to the kitchen and he follows you. “Me? Of course not.” He feigns innocence and opens the cupboard to grab out the drink and two shot glasses to pour out a couple of shots.
“Here’s to being single again.” You tease him and he rolls his eyes before clinking his shot glass with yours and drinking it in one go and so do you.
“You know I don’t think it could use another shot.” You throw down your shot glass and without thinking, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips against his, he immediately kisses back and hugs you into his arms tightly, your tongue already invading his mouth, he carries you up and you wrap your legs around his torso, he walks towards the master bedroom and it seems like he’s on the same page as you are.
He puts you down on her bed and it feels exactly like your nightmare only with different details, he leans towards you and presses his lips against yours, his hand already crawling inside your jeans and panties to rub your pulsating clit in circular motion.
You hum against his lips and move your hand down to palm his cock through his pants, it’s already rock hard which makes you a little less embarrassed that you’re already wet yourself.
“Fuck.” You gasp and your head falls back when he slides in two fingers inside you, he moves down to your neck and chest to print several wet kisses and sucking on other spots to print even more purple hickeys onto your skin.
His fingers slam against your spot as he thrusting them up and down, the tightness in your stomach increases and he feels your cunt clenching around his fingers and he whispers. “You’re gonna cum aren’t you?”
“Mmm, fuck. Yes.” Your hand sits on his shoulder, his lips land against yours again and he shoves in another finger which stops you from kissing back right away. “I’m gonna cum.” You speak with your lips still on his mouth, he curls his fingers against your spot and right when you’re about to cum.
You feel a set of eyes on you.
Your heart drops and suddenly you feel yourself about to lose your consciousness, a silhouette standing right near the bedroom door behind him. Your fight or flight works and you close your legs onto his hands and hold his wrist tightly. “Namjoon stop.”
“Are you okay?” He looks into your eyes and sees that you’re staring somewhere near the bedroom door, he snaps his head to look behind him.
And holy fuck it’s her.
Standing right there near the bedroom door and it’s the same facial expressions you saw in your nightmare.
Even when they’re divorced, she looks lonely and hurt and empty. And of course, betrayed.
This time not a single inch of regret do you feel, this time it tastes sweet, it tastes like pure victory.
And what you wanted happened right away, you wanted her to see that she’s replaced, and that Namjoon couldn’t care less about her loss, and most importantly..
You wanted her to see you on her own bed, in Namjoon’s arms.
Namjoon’s hand slides out of your pants and he helps you get up onto your feet, totally not ashamed himself, he grabs your hand and walks you out of her bedroom and sit in his.
He takes one last glance at his ex wife and barely hides the disgust he feels towards her. “Take all your stuff. And maybe you should consider knocking next time since you no longer live here.”
You’re all ears anticipating what she would answer but she doesn’t, he walks into his bedroom and slams the door shut on purpose before walking towards you and yanking his shirt off. “Now where were we?”
You knew the man was freaky, but was he freaky enough to have sex with you with his wife in the room next door? He actually is.
And it’s even more arousing to you, you grab him into your arms and press your lips against his, raising your knee up slowly and gently to rub it against his clothed boner, his hand slides into your panties again and this time he slams his three fingers inside you without a warning which makes you hold him tighter into your hands and moan off of the top of your lungs. “Holy fuck.”
The two of you were enjoying the actual thing, and enjoying the fact that she’s in the room next to you.
“Cum for me.” He bites onto your earlobe and curls his fingers against your spot, slamming against it repeatedly, you’re usually talkative in bed but the stimulation got your voice a couple octaves higher.
“Don’t stop.” You breathlessly moan and throw your head back, he licks a long valley from your neck to your chest and proceeds to use his other hand to grab one of your tits out of your bra.
And of course she can hear everything, her attention was drawn away when she saw you topless, and she couldn’t help but to notice the purple kisses onto your breasts. Meaning that you and Namjoon had already done this before and this is not his first night with you.
But she still didn’t have the chance to look you in the face and recall your features.
She walks towards the bed and smells the bed sheets, it’s the exact same smell she picked up from the hospital, and the exact same smell that was on Namjoon’s clothes that night.
She’s a little slow to process the fact that it could be you, but she just needs to take one look to recognize you.
“Oh my god. Joon please-“
She hears through the thin walls, but she decides on ignoring and opening the closet to start packing her stuff. Right when she hears her phone ringing from the living room, she walks out the bedroom and Namjoon does too.
He’s on his way to grab you a bottle of water when their eyes met, she takes one glance inside the bedroom to see you laid down on the bed.
And it takes her a little over two seconds to finally recognize that it’s you.
“I knew you were seeing someone.” She looks at Namjoon in the eyes. “She’s the woman you abandoned your son for, isn’t she?”
“This doesn’t concern you.” He closes the door to his bedroom, but you immediately get up and press your ear against the door.
“She was the doctor who helped Jay, and she was the one that got you the medical report.” She nodded. “Now it all makes sense.”
You knew she knew all along, women know and feel everything going around them.
“I’m not going to argue because this doesn’t concern you.” Namjoon repeats, you open his closet and grab out one of his tops before opening the door.
You look her in the eye with your chest heaving dramatically.
This was something you were anticipating long time ago, you wanted her to know everything. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts x fem!reader#bts x reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#kim namjoon#kim namjoon x reader#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#kpop x reader#bts fanfiction#bts fic#kim namjoon x y/n#kim namjoon x you#kim namjoon smut#namjoon x you#namjoon smut#namjoon#fanfiction#kpop fanfiction#kpop imagines
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MILF!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!CEO!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Requested by anon: i just..i - i need a hc of beefy ceo!reader going back to her hometown after years of being away to visit her family (and Nat). And at dinner tiny mil!Nat just turn the big bad ceo!r into a stuttering and shy mess. Later that night Natasha is laying in bed and touching herself htinking about how R's muscle and body felt under her hands, and R spots her through the window and eventually make her way over and fucks Natasha. With a hint of powerbottom!nat and a shameful amount of dirty talk. All love to you mate.
AN: This has nothing to do with Valentine’s day, but it’s been in my drafts for a while so it’s time for it to see the light of day. Enjoy, my sinners. See you all soon. ❤️
You knock on the door twice, stepping back and bouncing the tray of cookies in your arms nervously. It had been years since you had seen your parents, and while you talked to them almost every week, you knew it was a big deal to see them in person.
Work had kept you away longer than you would have liked--but a promotion to CEO was not something you took lightly. However, once you settled into your role, you decided to take some time off and visit home.
The door suddenly opens, and your mom bursts out, jumping into your arms and you almost drop the cookies. After a few minutes of tearful hugging, your mom drags you into the house to greet your dad.
Your blissful family reunion is interrupted when you hear a familiar voice, and you look up and see Natasha Romanoff standing in the kitchen, wearing a skimpy black dress that normally you wouldn’t have allowed given that your mother was in the same room, but since it’s your first time seeing her in years too, you give her a pass.
Her curves are fuller, and she’s covered the wrinkles on her face with a heavy layer of makeup, but you think she looks even more beautiful than she was before.
“What...What are you doing here?” you ask, pushing away from your parents to approach her in the kitchen.
“Your mom invited me,” Natasha says with a shrug. “She said she didn’t feel comfortable with me being alone during the holidays.”
“Alone?” The last you had heard, she had married some wannabe actor from a popular comedy show and had a child with him.
“Yeah.” Natasha subtly shows off her left hand, which is now absent of a wedding ring.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” you say.
“Don’t be.” She waves you off. You don’t miss her glance over your body and bite her lip in appreciation. With your promotion, you had less time to focus on yourself, but you still always made an effort to eat healthy and workout when you could. While you felt the results could be better, you were happy and judging from the way Natasha nodded her head as she looked away from you, she was happy too.
You help Natasha finish prepping dinner in the kitchen. You don’t miss the way she rubs her front against your back, just trying to "squeeze by” with the honey baked ham, and then her arm is almost pressed against yours when you stand side-by-side to chop the vegetables for the appetizer platter.
At the dinner table, Natasha fills your plate with a little bit of everything. You think it’s sweet that she remembers the kind of appetite you have, and the food--all of it home-cooked--is absolutely delicious. Natasha is sitting next to you, and gradually her hand finds its place on your muscular thigh, squeezing it teasingly throughout the meal.
You almost choke on a slice of ham, and Natasha pats your back to help you clear your throat. You look at her, a little nervous at her boldness, but she winks and you and turns back to her plate.
After dessert, Natasha retires to the spare bedroom on the first floor. You offer her your old bedroom, but she politely declines and disappears into the bathroom to shower. Your parents head upstairs to unwind, and you’re stuck with a mountain of dishes to clean.
But the tedious work takes your mind off Natasha, at least for a little bit. The touches against you during dinner, the way she kept bringing up her loneliness from the divorce. You know she’s desperate for you, but you don’t know if it’s right to reciprocate. After all, you had just reconnected, and it seemed a little rash to go after her again after how things ended the last time.
You tie up the full trash bag and carry it outside to throw directly into the bin. The window to Natasha’s room is near the garbage bins, and it’s open just enough for you to hear her inside.
“Oh, fuck, Y/N. Yes, right there, baby. Harder. I need more of you.”
You drop the trash bag on the ground in shock, sneaking up closer to the window to peer inside.
Natasha is lying naked on the bed, her legs spread wide open with her fingers knuckle-deep into her core, pumping frantically. Her eyes are closed as she imagines replacing her fingers with your bigger ones, and how she would dig her nails into your flexing forearm while begging you to move faster. She remembers the way you would take her to bed, all passion and intensity, only needing minutes to have her squirming underneath you. And then when she would return the favor, she loved having your powerful thighs wrapped around her head or grinding on your abs until she came all over your stomach.
You’re not sure how long you stand there watching Natasha pleasure herself, but suddenly, your feet are taking you back into the house and you barge into her room. Natasha smiles at you and beckons you forward with a crook of her finger.
“Come fuck me, baby,” she says, and you’re tearing off your clothes as fast as you can leaping into bed with her. You don’t care that your parents are upstairs, and this reminds you of your high school days when you would try and sneak girls home to have sex with while your parents were down the hall. Needless to say, you were caught more than once, but this time, you’ll try to keep Natasha quiet.
You lay on top of Natasha, careful not to lower all of your weight onto her, and wrap your arms around her, kissing her and tasting her cherry lipstick. She smears it along your cheek and down your neck, lightly biting on your trapezius muscle. You shift to the side, moaning when you feel her lips wrap around one of your nipples, then biting your lip and trying to silence yourself. Natasha looks up at you, her fingers trailing down your abs, but you stop her before she can reach between your legs.
“You asked me to fuck you,” you whisper, panting as her lips pull away from your chest. “But you have to promise to be quiet.”
“How can I be quiet when you’re the one fucking me?” she says, and you feel your stomach clench at the praise.
“You’re gonna have to try or I won’t do it,” you reply, although you think it’ll take an impossible amount of willpower to resist Natasha Romanoff in bed.
“Fine, fine,” she relents. You lay next to her, slipping your hand down to her center and rubbing your finger through her wetness. You pinch her clit and she gasps, but you lean over and cover your mouth with hers.
“You promised,” you whisper, sliding your fingers into her with ease and she bucks into your hand. As you thrust into her, your thumb circles her clit, spreading her wetness everywhere between her thighs. Natasha pants into your mouth, her nails clawing at your shoulder and bicep, her hips rocking wildly.
“Fuck, fuck, no one can make me cum as fast as you,” she says.
“Not even your ex-husband?” you ask, thrusting so fast your forearm is on fire.
“He never made me cum,” she pouts, and you push your fingers into her hard enough for her to whimper.
“Then it looks like I have a lot to make up for,” you respond. Her walls start clenching around your fingers and her stomach tightens. “Go ahead, Nat. Go ahead and make a mess for me.”
She pulls down on the back of your neck to bring your shoulder close to her mouth to bite on so she doesn’t throw her head back and scream loud enough to alert your parents. Cum gushes down your hand, and you’re pretty sure you’re bleeding from where Natasha bit you. But she releases you as you pull out, kissing your skin softly and you wince.
“Don’t leave me, baby,” Natasha murmurs against your chest.
“I made that mistake once,” you say, scooping her up in your arms and cuddling her close. “I won’t do it again.”
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#natasha romanoff#black widow#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you
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Jihyo x M/F Reader - "Just A Feeling"
This book makes a return today! For this oneshot, I'm sorry if this one may be complicated to read since I didn't make any outline for it and kind of... weird to read too, especially for female readers out there. This one is actually intended to be only for male readers because I think the plot of this suits them better since the story came from my perspective as a guy and from a real-life experience I'm currently going through. Don't worry though, I still tried my best to make this applicable to everybody since I made some changes to make it gender neutral, plus there's opinions from some various featured female K-Pop idols as my characters that portray my real-life classmates here, which female readers might relate to. So yeah, basically what you're about to read here is based on a true story (except starting from the climax until the end, which I just made up from my imagination since I haven't confessed yet lol.) about my huge crush with this one genuine girl from our class. And oh, I've said it already that it's not gonna be a fluff right? It's not gonna be a tearjerker though but for the softies there, this might hurt. Don't worry though, I'm going to write a one-shot special on weekend that relies more on fluff. Finally saw something that inspired me to write, that's why. Heh.
I was eating in our cafeteria along with my circle of friends in our room, talking about—well, guess what—sex education. We were trying our best to remain open-minded about the topic. Honestly, I don’t even have any idea why we would insert this topic to arrange a conversation in the middle of the public.
I know that these things should be taken seriously because they provide knowledge on how to establish a healthy sexual life in the future, but I just couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed. Well, I wouldn’t be if only these girls would just lower their mouths whenever they'd ask or mention a term, especially when it’s too silly to hear.
I was afraid that others might hear us and lose appetite because of what we were discussing. I already made my move, providing a question pertaining to my curiosity and thankfully they answered me with the expected answer I wanted to know. That’s why I moved my head and roamed my eyes around to distract myself away from them since I don’t really find their current discussion interesting to me.
Looking around, there are many students along with us doing their own business mindfully. Eating together or alone in their respective spots and typing on the computer or writing notes as they review for their subject while on a break. Each was from different courses and grade levels, and of course we wouldn’t be the exception.
Some of our classmates too were on the another table, with them being formed together into their own circle they belong in. That is, until my eyes landed on her again as I check upon them. The girl with sharp jawline, boyish wild haircut, adorable with a touch of chic aura in her visual, and those big eyes I couldn’t avoid but to get sucked in whenever I get to be in contact with those shimmering pairs of hers.
The name of the girl I’m describing with much creativity and detail is Park Jihyo. She’s currently one of our brightest students in our class. If I’ll compare myself to her, well my intelligence is pretty below average and subpar to her attributes.
Whenever I glanced at her, I couldn’t help but pause and take a short time to admire what my sight was displaying for me. Just like today, she has that serious expression that I find both intimidating and… hot? Yeah, yeah, fine, you got me. I do think of her sometimes as a dominant or possessive girlfriend who loves to claim and tease, and I do get a bit intense and aroused just by thinking about it, especially when it fits her a lot along with her lean figure.
Damn it, you wouldn’t blame me. She literally is the embodiment of a girl crush that others would kneel on their knees for her. I may have not saw somebody like that, but oh I can’t just deny those words I’ve heard from the girls and guys on my room simping for her.
Setting aside to those qualities, I’ll make it plain and simple that she’s that beautiful in my eyes. I don’t care if I’m falling in love to a boisterous and fiery tomboy like Jihyo. Deep inside of that cool and boyish appearance of hers, I couldn’t count how many times I’ve encountered that soft girly demeanor she was hiding. That time when she squealed and raised both her fists in the air while looking appalled as the volleyball almost hit her face during our class in physical education would be my favorite.
She smiled again and laughed at whatever they were talking about, which is effectively contagious. She has that much effect on me already. Whenever her mood is, will be the same as mine. Guess I could say that’s how I could tell that I’m highly attached on her now.
I was so busy complimenting and being in awe of her that I almost responded too late when I saw Jihyo start to move her eyes around, and she went in the direction I was in. Just a little angle she shifted, and she would’ve caught my eyes staring at her, looking like it was attempting to hallucinate and connect to mine too.
But I was too weak for that, as always. I’m always weak for her. I pretend I didn’t just went to their side and busy admiring her as I returned to my friend’s discussion while my peripheral vision has unknown whether she felt like someone was stalking at her or as usual, nothing.
2 days later, we were waiting for the Calculus class to end because our professor has left us for some numerous problems to solve on the board and use it as an advantage to increase our points in recitation. He definitely might’ve went again to the mall and go eat samgyupsal again with his officemates at the faculty room that’s why we know we already have the freedom to be noisy and indulge on those differential equation as much as we want.
Our professor is busy grilling meat and stuffing wagyu meat in his mouth while us as his students were busy grilling our minds and stuffing numbers across the board.
While I was confidently sitting on my chair just watching my classmates go berserk on dribbling equations of their own since I already had my turn to have a recitation point, my female classmate named Miyeon invited me for a chat with her because mainly she’s bored.
We did chatter for any laughable random topics for like 10 minutes until I heard her enter a question that had me locked in on my seat.
“Say, YN. I noticed that you had shared so many sad posts about romance these days on Facebook. Are you heartbroken?” She asked me.
“Uhh… that? W-well, I just like those kind of posts. Nothing much.” I smiled fakely at her.
“You sure?” She stared at me. I just nodded and awkwardly removed my gaze at her as I act like I was trying to keep myself busy on my notes.
“You have a crush on someone, don’t you?”
I slowly turned around and my stupid self chose to rose my brows making myself shocked rather than meeting itself and show some confusion. Now I’m busted.
“H-how can you say so?”
“Wouldn’t most of the people around social media does that whenever they admire somebody and they just left to be… unwanted back?” She shared. “I’ve been through that, that’s why I know.”
I remained silent as I sighed. I glanced at Jihyo again, she was being recorded now by one of our close friends in the room as she explains the solution she wrote on the board. That’s what our professor instructed us to do so that he can acknowledge our points, is to sent him our video that we’re tackling about the equation we answered.
“There is, huh.” She confirmed. I was being too obvious already so with defeat, I just let her expose me more. “She’s in our class isn’t it?”
My eyes widened. My body trembled as she already made another guess but a more accurate one this time. Miyeon seems to be an observative type of person, and more untrained and horrible attempts of pretending that I contradict her guesses would just make me look dumber in front of her.
I sighed and chuckled at myself from getting caught. “Yeah. She is.”
“Woah!” She exclaimed. “So YN here also has a crush of his/her own here huh!” She teased me as she referred to me being another addition to those established “couples” in our room. Most of them were now officially together and others, well I don’t know but mostly I’ve learned these days that they already confessed and sadly, they were rejected but still remains to be a tough lover for them.
“Who’s your crush then?” I shushed her with my gesture, as there’s our classmates still sitting in front of us and they might hear us. I don’t want tk get humiliated more just by being put into a hot seat getting confronted who’s the girl i’m into these days.
“D-do you want me to give you a clue?” I asked, I wanted to play a game with her first she already caught me easily, now I want to test her this time.
“Oh sure, what is it?”
“Okay, hmm….” I hummed but I didn’t think that much because i already knew what I would give to her. “She’s a person.”
“Luh.” She reacted and whined. “Cmon, be serious!”
I just laughed at her befuddled response and think again, with all seriousness this time. “Okay, fine. She’s a social butterfly.”
“Ooohhh social butterfly…” Miyeon started to think. “There’s so many classmates of ours that are giddy to get close with others. Is it Jiyeon?”
“Nope. 19 left.” I said, crossing out one from the list of number of girls in our room.
“Aaaahhhh!” She screamed but jokingly, already panicking at just one guess. “Whooo?”
“Try more!”
“Aish, is it Julie?”
“Nope.”
“Ehhh?” She scratched her nape. “Next clue!”
“Okay fine, I’ll give you just three okay?” She nodded and readjusted her posture on her seat, she seemed very invested on knowing who my crush is. “The second one is… she’s smart.”
“Smart…” she began thinking again. “But most of us here are very good at anything.”
I smirked, feeling satisfied that I gave a mysterious clue for her more. “Is it Mina?”
“Nah.” I shook my head, but I admit in my thoughts that i almost fell for Mina once like back when we were freshman.
“Danielle?!” Miyeon’s eyes brightened as she thought she finally achieved the right answer. I shook my head and gave her an apologetic look, which shuts off the spark in her eyes instantly.
Miyeon pouted and lets out an even struggling look at me. “I’m starting to run out of ideas!”
“Miyeon you’ve only told me like��� 5 of our classmates so far.”
“Fire the last clue!”
“Okay. The last one is that… you probably won’t expect her to be my crush.”
Her eyebrows lifted and hummed fascinatingly at me. “That just made things interesting. Won’t expect to be your crush? So it means it’s not actually your type but you just seem to get a liking on that person?”
“Hmm maybe?”
“Wait…” she paused that lasted a little bit longer than just few seconds. Her head raised and I wondered why her eyes softened as she slowly looked at me and pushed her head closer.
“What? You got the answer now?”
“YN… is it me?” Miyeon asked. She was staring at me with pure seriousness and jaw hanging slightly in surprise. I gasped as I was shocked at her answer. I know that she’s one of the girls around who is also pretty but still I didn’t expect that it really came out of her mouth, that she also considered herself too.
“N-no! It’s not you and Miyeon, you already have a boyfriend.”
“Yeah.” She agreed, understandably took my reason well. “But… it’s just a crush though, so…”
“Still no. I don’t fall in love to women who are already taken. I respect relationships and I don’t want to create conflicts for other people. Although, I admit that you’re beautiful.” I smiled at her. She returned the same and pushed my shoulder. “Wow, just like that huh?”
“I don’t know, you sound like you were urging me to say something nice to you atleast.”
“I wasn’t! B-but that doesn’t mean I won’t take your compliment at me.” She giggled. “Anyways, I pass. Cmon tell me who it is!”
I exhaled. To be fair, I wasn’t really up for sharing this with anybody. It’s not that I don’t want anybody to know because I don’t trust them, but I’m doing this rather to avoid the possibility that she may learn more about what I really feel for her from other people. I just want to be a complete secret admirer of her.
However, since I was already cornered by Miyeon, it seems like my plans have to undergo some changes. I feel a bit of pity for this girl because she has shared some of her stories with me, and I listened and kept them all to myself, just like she wanted to. Thatimplies that she views me as someone she can trust.
That’s why I felt obligated that I had to treat her in the same manner. I mean, Miyeon is one of the girls in our class that I find really pure and mature and who knows how to blend well when having fun with other people.
“Fine. You know I never really intended to tell this to others because for some reasons, I don’t want anybody to tease me, accidentally become obvious, or make others bother with what I’m facing at right now… but I do trust you Miyeon, you know that. And please let’s keep it to ourselves okay?”
“Oh don’t worry about me.” Miyeon then bounced on her seat with a large grin. “I’m so excited to know!”
“W-well… the girl that I’m-”
“What are you two up to?” My other classmate interrupted our conversation, looking at us as she twirled her body on the chair to go back and forth at us. I was surprised that we’re like able to be caught despite our distances being one vacant row from each other. Our voices aren’t even that loud.
Miyeon and I exchanged glances and she was controlling her laughter as she saw me looking nervous. “W-we’re just playing a game! He’s trying to make me identify who is-”
“Aahhhh wait, I think I know what you two are talking about.” Her eyes then shrinked and it went towards me who is blushing. She smirked and find my current state hilarious. “I’ve been seeing something about this one eh. I think I know who may that be.”
Both Miyeon and I were eager to know, especially me who is heavily related to the one she was talking about. About our conversation with Miyeon, she finally learn who that is and she was amused to know that she agrees at the clues I gave to her. She really didn’t expected that I’ll be admiring somebody like Jihyo and commented that it wasn’t visible to me all these time. She couldn’t blame me though for having a crush with Jihyo, as she revealed that she’s bisexual and she once had a crush on her too before she met her boyfriend.
Meanwhile, about our other classmate who is holding a thought that shares my secret. I wanted to know about it. Thankfully, both of us were walking home together since Nako which is her name, lives almost close to our neighborhood.
We were riding on a bus and we talked about what she said earlier. I had no choice but to reveal to her since I already did it to Miyeon and it’s going to be unfair if I don’t do it for her too. She might feel offended that I rather not to disclose it to her.
She learned and she laughed so hard that she was actually right which had me speechless. She found it interesting too just like Miyeon that I got to be in love with someone like Jihyo. Me on the other hand, has a huge “How?” question displayed on my head.
She only replied that it’s her guts that is telling her and even her didn’t expected that she would got it correct. What she said though did had me find it difficult to maintain my smile. “But really, for me I don’t see Jihyo being attracted to a guy/girl. It’s more possible that she’s rather into girls because of her looks, but she did told me one time what does she think of her gender and she only told me that it’s complicated. Will it still going to be okay for you knowing that your rivals when it comes to her were all female/male?”
She shared to me her observation and I got it immediately what her basis for that. I suddenly had Jihyo on my mind along with her tomboy look that can make girls crazy and gay for her. “I don’t know, I don’t mind it that much. They can all admire her for whatever they want. What matters to me more is Jihyo. Only her.” I just said nonchalantly to her, which she find a bit suspicious why I care less about it.
Whether by coincidence or not, more and more days have passed, and my other classmates that I’m close with are all girls. Have I mentioned that I’m comfortable and easy to befriend with girls rather than guys? I never had a sister in my life; that’s why I view them as my sister-like figures, but still, I know how to set my boundaries with them due to society’s common stereotype of seeing two opposite genders together.
They all also began to know my adoration for Jihyo, and they are either secretive or teaseful about it, and I find myself on the brink of danger whenever they do that on occasions that me and Jihyo would have an interaction together. Some examples I can give are when I, along with Nako and her, were discussing our anticipation of attending the concert of our favorite K-pop group this coming week.
I was expressing my loneliness to them rather because I wasn’t entirely sure if my parents would allow me to attend such a huge event like that and for me also to travel to a place that is very far away from our city. I was about to give up my hopes until a certain person simply boosted my faith again and not wanting to let me go that easily.
“You should go to that concert, YN! It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, you should not waste it!”
Jihyo spoke to me and she gave me that hopefulness and positivity. She knew I might need it for her and if that so then she’s damn right. I couldn’t ask for anything more than to hear a support and concern than from her.
And later that night, I tried to ask my parents about it, and shockingly, they allowed me to, as long as I had someone with me. Nako joined me, while Jihyo went with her sister. I got a little excited, thinking I was going to be with her too, but that’s just fine. At least, I still got some heart-bursting interaction with her on social media when we both exchanged heart reactions on our posts about our experience at the concert.
Another time I could give that one of the best things I would want to just happen forever in my life was when I got unexpectedly sick in the school, and what’s even more suck about the timing is that we were rehearsing for our roleplay performance in just 3 days.
Our director set me aside for now and gave me a time to recover but ofcourse the worry of me not being able to make it to the deadline struck a fear on him. I just lay down on one of the benches with all of my classmate’s bags around me. I tried to sleep but the pain in my head just won’t let me go in peace.
I was about to go to the clinic with no other option in mind because I didn’t actually want to go there because, um, yeah, call me a scaredy cat, but I’ve heard many times from some of the students, including my classmates, that our school nurse is a terror. She’s so strict that there’s no doubt that once she finds me, my temperature will be high. Since the pandemic happened, these medical professionals have been very careful for the past few years.
One positive detection and surely I’m gone for today. I just sighed defeatedly because I wanted to practice today and to see her ofcourse. I sat up and gave myself time to prepare myself as I might feel dizzy standing up, but then I heard some footsteps and felt arms wrapped around me.
“J-jihyo?” I exclaimed weakly. She must’ve felt my body trembled in shock as I found her beside me. She just looked at me and tightlipped.
“You’re going to the clinic now?”
“Yeah. I have to.”
“You can’t do it by yourself. Look how weak you look. Cmon, I’ll join you on your way there.”
“Y-you sure? B-but they might look for you and-
“I just finished rehearsing my part. My next one is three acts after, so they wouldn’t mind.” Jihyo said. “But it’s up to you, can you do it by yourself?”
“Actually, I really didn’t want to go home yet.” I said with sincerity of sadness on my voice.
“I know, but you have to.” Jihyo said to me. “Let’s go.”
We started walking, and I gave one last look at my classmates. I caught Miyeon, who saw me with Jihyo smiling at us, and I knew what that meant. We went together to the clinic, and I feel embarrassed that I had to make a girl wait for me outside, even though she didn’t mind me that much. The nurse wasn’t even that scary; she was rather strict, but in the sense that she’s doing it because she cares for the students’ health.
She found my fever weird because… hmm how can I say this, well it’s like my temperature risen due to hunger, dehydration and possibly some changes of temperature also to the places I’ve been at since she discovered that I don’t actually feel dizzy or aching on my head.
That’s why due to my determination to remain here, she dared me to atleast decrease my temperature by having a meal and lots of water on the canteen or else she’ll have to excuse me to my instructor.
I went out of the clinic, accepting the challenge and Jihyo was just there sitting and using her cellphone. She felt my presence reappeared and she greeted me. “How’s there?”
I repeated what the nurse told me. “Come on, let’s eat at the canteen first if that so.”
“Yeah.”
“My treat.”
“Wait, what?”
We stopped walking. “Why? What’s the problem?”
“N-nothing, I just… didn’t expect it.”
“Just don’t do anything for now. Since I accompanied you, let me just be like that today before we get back there.”
In my surprise, Jihyo wrapped her arm around my shoulders, giving me that bro-cuddle. I felt super shy and almost going to melt because of the skinship she’s doing to me. It’s ironic how her touch can beat the warm temperature running across my body.
She was the one who bought our food and drinks together and she returned to our place with it. We just took our meal quietly then short talks about our interests again, but it was still enough for me. I give some sneak glances at Jihyo on my side, observing her sipping that iced coffee while she busily scrolls down on her phone.
My body suddenly felt lighter and numb, I think my sickness didn’t even exist to worry myself as I was just busy admiring her all over again. Not gonna lie, this just had me spawning another idea to imagine being with her more. A date with her is something I’d definitely would love to have someday with her.
But again, I knew I have no chance.
The deadline came and we were going back to the clinic, but just then Jihyo offered me something. It’s a medicine on the palm of her hand.
“Take this, it’ll help more.”
“Jihyo, you might need it once you-”
“But I don’t have one and you are, that’s why you need it more than me.” Jihyo rejected. “Just take it.”
I didn’t object anymore and took it at ease from her. “Thanks, Jihyo.”
“No prob, now get in there and hopefully you’re fine now. I mean, you’re kinda sweating now too so yeah maybe you really needed some rest.” She said as she poked at my arm.
I nodded and I entered with confidence, I know that Jihyo helped me a lot today. Fortunately, we were right. My temperature returned to normal still very close on reaching that low fever. I exit and immediately thanked Jihyo again which she returned with her gummy smile that I always loved seeing from her.
It was our classmates’ break too from the rehearsal and they saw us together rejoining them. As usual, Nako and Miyeon were the ones leading the group of people who knows my crush for Jihyo and they teased me about it.
And speaking of group of people who knows about my love secret, a new one has been added. It happened through our chat in Instagram when somebody replied in my story featuring a movie quote about loving someone but being aware of the consequences which makes you rather think twice on pushing yourself to chase for her feelings.
That person is the guy Jihyo is mostly close with in our classroom. They are both smart, but this one is smarter and they get along easily because they share the same humor. He replied to me saying “Who is that girl huh?”
I didn’t tell him yet. We went for some few talks until I recalled our time on the mall earlier with our other classmates. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind joining your circle like earlier. Maybe you guys might find having me uncomfortable, I just wanted to keep my closeness with you guys as my classmates.”
“We’re cool, YN. Actually I like it even more that you’re trying.” He said. “However, I do seem it doesn’t apply for somebody.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think out of everyone we were with at the mall earlier, I didn’t even saw you like interact or go near at Jihyo.” He said. I almost dropped my phone in disbelief. He did noticed me being shy around Jihyo. Sensing that he’ll end up as one of them who is about to find out soon, I didn’t wait for it anymore and after some few hesitation, I made up my mind to do what I have to do. “Did you two had a fight or something?”
“Ahh, that?” I said. “Well actually there’s another reason why you guys might find me sticking along to your circle more.”
He reacted a wow emoji on my message. My heartbeat racing as I typed the letters of her name on the keyboard. After i sent it, I waited for his reaction and what had me was his long laughter.
“Ahhhh so that’s why!” I can hear his annoying laugh behind the phone. My head just bent in shame and laughed poorly at my idiotic self. I don’t know if revealing my crush for Jihyo is even a good or a bad idea to do it with this guy.
“So yeah, I said it to you now. And I did it because I trust you so please, don’t let her know. She doesn’t need to.” I pleaded to him.
“Faggot, don’t.” He then continued with another laughter. Now I just want to rub my face on the table. “Good luck tomorrow, I’m going to tease you a lot from now on.”
I knew it would happen. I gulped nervously and chuckled again imagining what would I expect starting tomorrow if things will go in a chaotic change for me now that people are starting to recognize me because of being an admirer to our fellow classmate.
I prepared myself before going to the campus. As I arrived there, Sehun, which is his name, immediately laughed at me as I approach them who are waiting for our professor to arrive since the classroom is still locked. I just laughed back and whined at him to stop doing it frequently or else Jihyo might find it suspicious and it may attract her attention.
Thankfully, he did listened. He was just like doing it in a manner that he tries his best to insert a joke referring to me but Jihyo and the rest won’t notice. Before we went home as our classes for today ended, he gave me a short advice that began to repeat for the few days to come or whenever we get to talk together.
“Make a move already.” He said. “Do it. She’s easy to get along with. Don’t be nervous.”
I know to myself that I’m trying, but I’m not doing that to impress myself. I stand at my reason still why I don’t have any plans to make an action on how to make her mine. He did say it with the same idea I was thinking for the past few months since I started to develop an attraction to Jihyo, so I just listened to him while keeping my feelings behind me.
But again, being the dorky admirer that I am, I find it difficult to do whenever my feet would bring me closer to me or when I’m standing next to her. I couldn’t acknowledge her presence in ease. It was stressful, and it raises my belief that I am indeed a hopeless romantic.
It continued for few months that my classmates would also ran out of energy to disturb me with their playful gestures on leading me to Jihyo. They slowly didn’t cared at all and it was kind of relieving at least that’s going back to normal now that I can just move around without anybody noticing me. That didn’t last long though when I was walking home with my classmates and two of my other female classmates named Jeewon and Karina asked me randomly when Jihyo got mentioned in our topic.
“You still have feelings for her?” Jeewon asked me.
“Yeah.” I admitted.
“How long do you have a crush on her?”
I remembered the date today and that exact date when I proclaimed myself that I am indeed catching feelings for Jihyo. “Almost a year now.”
Both of them woah-ed. Karina took the turn to ask me. “Why aren’t you doing anything yet? You’re almost reaching a year, that’s long enough already.”
I sighed and slumped my shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. I believe its better if she must not know. I don’t want her to end up with me anyway.” I said weakly as my mind replayed that time when I talked with my other classmate named Lia who lives at the direction where my home leads at, stating that she learned that Jihyo doesn’t have any interest on this love thingie and she prioritize her studies first. She didn’t deny the part though that she already had an experience of being in love with somebody. Based on her report, they almost became a couple back when they were in senior high school but sadly, it didn’t happened for unknown reason.
Jeewon and Karina aww-ed in pity for me being a fallen soldier who still remains loyal fo a girl who will never be aware of my feelings and be mine. They just expressed their opinion that a year or more might just be wasted and more painful to see somebody I’m loyal with get to be rather with someone else. That’s why they still wanted to push me to try atleast.
I just kept it in mind but I haven’t considered it yet. I did have another reason with me that i didn’t shared to them which added to my reasons why I should remain on the shadows. I recalled from my chat with Lia that she has speculations to her ex-boyfriend, which is Sehun that he is interested with Jihyo too.
She even enumerated to me her evidences she observed which became a reminiscence to the things Sehun once did for her when he was courting her.
“First, you see how he always places himself next to Jihyo. Second, he was frequently escorting her with his motorcycle, to take her home or go to somewhere else. He did that to me once, and that’s when he found out where I live in and now for sure he knows where Jihyo’s home too. Lastly, he can just easily get access on her things without a permission. He even carries her bag for himself!
Don’t you think those were still nothing for him? I’m telling you, he’s chasing for Jihyo’s feelings just like how he did to me and what makes me afraid is that he might also waste her heart just like how I ended up into. He’s a player!” She said with all frustrations and I calmed her down. It threw me back to my conversations with Sehun and that advice he gave me which he always say in repeat that I should “Make a move already”.
At first it was just a simple encouragement to me but now after hearing what Lia said, I felt like it was rather a challenge sent to me. That I should do something now or else he’ll be the one who’s gonna win in the end.
Well, for my response? I don’t even care. Let him have her if he wants. If there’s some sort a miracle that it happens, I swear to God that I hope he won’t hurt Jihyo or else,I may reconsider and I’ll be there in no time.
Speaking or miracle, the reason I said it like that is because Lia and I share the same idea: “Pfft he wouldn’t have a chance with her.” Lia said in a mocking tone. “Jihyo doesn’t want to get involved with such guys like him. He may be great at words but internally? He’s immature, way apart to Jihyo.”
“Hmmm so that’s why I’m getting a weird feeling whenever I see them together” I revealed that I actually do get jealous whenever I see them close. At the bench where they review together with their circle, At the canteen where they eat and laugh together. And… yeah when he instructed Jihyo to hug him when they were riding on his motorcycle.
I just tried to hide my face contorting as my heart swells in pain seeing them like that. I was gaslighting myself that maybe it was nothing and they’re close friends that’s why. Jihyo met Sehun early when we became freshman that’s why them being close isn’t surprising anymore.
Until Lia came to dispose those lies I’ve been saying to myself. “See! Even you can see it from them. Trust me, YN. Sehun is making a move on Jihyo. I was his ex, I know him better when he acts for love.”
A month later, those all allegations and rumors we have for Sehun along with my other friend and former classmate who shifted to another course named Arin who also told me that she caught Sehun with another girl eating together and drive away on his motorcycle near at their neighorhood. Arin was living near to Sehun’s house that’s why. Arin even added that when her eyes met against Sehun’s it looked like he caught in the act and just quickly greeted at her back before they left.
Unfortunately, Arin didn’t recognize the girl but she did told me that she was wearing a uniform that is not from our campus, planting a seed that the girl is from another campus that he is also close with.
Going back to what I was saying, those all rumors were ended and disposed away when one day, me and Sehun are sitting next to each other at our subject about Psychology since our surnames’ initials are right next to each other, with mine before his.
While we wait for our instructor, he pulls out his phone and typed something before he poked me and made me look at it. I looked at the message he sent, I read it and it says:
“You’re in danger, YN.”
I furrowed my brows at him. “Danger? For what?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Boss is starting to speculate you.”
My eyes widened and my chest felt heavy immediately. His laugh got a bit louder but he stopped and typed again on his phone.
“Seriously? I-I mean, I’m not shocked since I knew it’s gonna happen. Secrets are meant to be unveiled-” I was just spitting nonsense now at this point, while I am heavily confused that she finally does began to notice me.
He presented his phone again. This time it says:
“Make a move already. Sungbin is almost at the end.” My brows deepened. Who the hell is Sungbin? I then asked it to him along with the question how did Jihyo suspected me, but instead he just said he will say about it more later.
That son of a bitch though left me hanging and getting eaten alive with all my curiosities for an entire day until I had enough waiting and I chatted him repeatedly about it while clearing up any misunderstandings that I’m not even expecting a lot or whatever. He finally responded and this is what he replied to me.
“Yup she shared it to me like, out of nowhere- she just asked. This is not what happened specifically, huh. This is just too long to read.
For her sake and yours. I don’t want to become your “middle man” even though you both are very distant to each other, got it?
After she approached me, she asked who do you like then ofcourse since you said before that you don’t want me to say it plus it’s not really my business so I just didn’t answered her.
But it looks like she didn’t really wanted to ask it then, I guess she got tired of waiting (just like you right now.) She then asked me directly if “Am I the one that YN likes?” and there, still with respect for you… I didn’t answered her. Not my story to tell.
But overall, just chill. No need to approach her about it anyway. Plus I don’t want to get involved if ever like “Sehun was the one who said it to you, doesn’t he?” Pass. I don’t want to get in trouble. There, make your move or don’t. It’s up to you. She's not thinking about it like actively, don’t worry. Maybe it just crossed her mind that time. So yeah, that’s your too long to read. Ciao.”
I thanked him and felt touched that he really did listen after all this time, and he became a man of his word for it. It’s still unknown though if he also harbored a crush on Jihyo, but during that time I did kind of notice that he wasn’t getting that much into contact with her that I might find jealous of. Maybe he gave up shortly and is now focusing on somebody else.
I learned afterwards that this is not the time that Jihyo starts to investigate her possible secret admirer, aka me. I confirmed from some of my classmates that Jihyo also asked them about it, and they also lied about it. I also feel like Jihyo is now also hiding a secret from me, as I found her following me whenever I take a spot somewhere else around the campus, yet still minus the talking.
I got nervous at the idea that maybe she’s testing or examining my antics if she can consider it that yeah I am getting shy around her because she’s my crush afterall. Realizing that she must have known now, I’m stuck if i really have to do it as there’s no more sense anymore if I have to continue being like this way.
I then hold on for few days until the time has come. I don’t know if this is such a huge coincidence or my classmates are pulling a prank on me. I did contacted them to confirm the location of our group study and the time which I quickly prepped up to head there.
But as I arrived there, I found Jihyo who is sitting alone and using her cellphone. It’s early in the morning and there’s not much students scattered around. It’s very quiet and peaceful but deep inside of me I feel like my emotions are going into war not knowing what I should do.
There’s no way out for me as I cannot leave anymore and Jihyo immediately saw me after she looked away at her phone. I had no choice but to come near at her while I try my best to compose myself. “Good morning.” She greeted me and I did the same.
“They’re still not here? I thought I’m already late that’s why I quickly went here.” I said, acting nonchalant and a bit confused.
“Same too. But since we’re here, let’s just wait for them.” I nodded and I instantly grabbed my things and took them out. From my peripheral vision, my senses are telling me that Jihyo is still observing me.
I don’t want to be weird so I silently plead that she stop, but as longer as we continue to be like this, I then realized that it was actually Jihyo who is becoming awkward between us. My patience couldn’t hold anymore as I see her blank face, I closed my notes and sighed heavily before I spoke the words I’ve never wanted to say.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” I said. Jihyo didn’t moved and stared at me, wondering what I’m talking about, so I proceeded with my words. “Making you uncomfortable and unhappy being around me, and it scares me. That’s what I’m being so hesitant for.”
I lowered my head, avoiding her gaze at me. What she said after made me lift up and put my attention to her as this is now something both she and I must discuss sincerely.
“So it’s me.” She finally comprehended what I’m trying the say.
“Always has been, Jihyo.” I confirmed, officially marking my confession to her and shattering my more than a year-length of being her secret admirer.
“And I just want to tell you right ahead that i’m very sorry.” I continued my heartfelt speech, wanting to make every thing clear for Jihyo. “We both know we ain’t that close or I don’t know, even be called as friends to have a normal conversation like this, and it’s my fault. It’s because of this deep infatuation- no screw that, I know for myself that this is indeed love I’ve been having on you that makes me act very awkward around you and trust me, I’m trying very very hard but I just cannot help it.”
“I do notice that I’m like the only one that you don’t get to interact with in the class.” Jihyo said. “Hearing that from you more, it did kind of hurt a litlle bit, you know. Seeing our classmates happy and comfortable talking with you, but I can’t have it the same as them. It did made me worried if I even did something bad to you. W-why does it have to be different when it comes to me?”
I frowned and took all of her rants with guilt. “I thought it was like that, but now I would just found out that’s all because you just… love me that much that you had to act like I’m non-existent?”
“I’m really sorry, Jihyo.” I muttered. “I have my reasons but it’s too many to say.”
“Then atleast enlighten me why do you have to set yourself away?”
“My fears and insecurities are not allowing me to, Jihyo.” My breathing is starting to get heavy as I sense the rising intensity of our confrontation. Jihyo was staring at me, puzzled. “It’s hard to escape. I’m scared that if you once knew, you will just ignore me because of it. That’s why I think not being close with you is much better because atleast I… I have nothing to lose more from you.”
Jihyo gulped and her expression turned into concern. She was about to move towards me but she hold on as I soon followed up what did she got taken aback from. My eyes swelled and a thin cold path started to drew from my cheek, and that’s when I touched it, a teardrop had escaped to present how much I’m struggling with this feeling.
“W-why are you doing this to yourself? Why do you need to hurt yourself more because of me?” Jihyo adjusted herself closer to me. Our eyes still ain’t leaving our staredown at each other. It deeply feels like i’m under interrogation right now that I have to defend and tell my side with all honesty.
“It’s just a feeling that I have.” I shrugged. “That i’m not the example of an ideal guy you would like to be with. I’ll just ruin whoever you are and we’ll end up being torn. Now you know why I didn’t want to confess to you because I’m not desperate for you to answer me back and tell me that you love me too. Maybe it’s better if you don’t.”
I was about to wipe my tears with my spare cloth but I was prevented by Jihyo herself who touched my hand and grabbed the cloth instead. Astounded, she damped it around my face and wiped my tears away.
“YN, please you don’t have to be harsh at yourself.” Jihyo sharpened her voice. I shook my head and tried to remove her hand.
“Don’t worry, it’ll end soon, when the time comes that my heart decides to stop.”
“AND IF I TELL YOU NOT TO?!” Jihyo suddenly yelled in front of me, slamming her fist at my shoulder. My eyes widened at her outburst. I went speechless, oblivious at the fact that I’ve been pushing her buttons further the more she hears me blabbering poisonous words at myself.
Her question rather, sounded suspicious. She returned her glare at me and she reached for my hand laying on my lap.
“I’ve had enough of hearing you hate yourself this much, you may not be fit on some of the qualities I want to the type of person I dream to be together with but I didn’t find everything about you horrible!” Jihyo complained. “And I am willing to get to know more about your capabilities, my standards weren’t even that high to be reach. I feel like it’s not right for me to be like that. If you hate yourself, then what about me? I don’t even think that anybody would fall for me who doesn’t even act accordingly to the gender norms this society has dictated upon.”
“Then I’m not one of them.” I said with confidence. “Initially, I never wanted to be in love again. But then I saw you and more time has passed, I couldn’t determine at first what my heart find you qualified to make me fall for you.
One year ago, I began as your secret admirer observing you from a far, and that’s where I started picking it all up. Many will find you rather handsome or a less attractive because of your boyish cut, tough posture, and antics that doesn’t suit you. But to me, I see different.
You’re uniquely beautiful and cute on your own that I couldn’t stand not to glance at your face for a second. I see this smart and mature woman that you would respect and willing to listen to every words she says attentively. God, you don’t how many times I imagine having you near me all the time just doing every ideas I could think to make you know how I’m deeply in love with everything about you. Just to make you feel special.
Jihyo, I love you because of how your authenticity shines through.”
After I enumerated all the signs that I find captivating from Jihyo and from how she shifted her gloomy mood into an uplifted state, smiling at the compliments I showered over her. She bit her lip and sighed as she looked away, thinking of something else for a while.
Jihyo then brought back her gaze and roamed it all around the sight of myself in front of her. “I really appreciated it a lot, YN. It did sounded sincere.” She nodded in which I mirrorred her. “We really can be friends, but this silly crush is pulling both you and I from each other.”
“S-so, you don’t-”
“No, wait it’s not like that!” Jihyo stopped me as she probably noticed that I misintepreted her. “I mean… you’re a cool guy and can you please stop ignoring me anymore? I-It really hurts when you only do that to me among the rest.” She begged with her softened dismayed tone as she pouted at me. I couldn’t care less anymore if I look like a tomato at how red my cheeks or face would appear from her cuteness.
“I won’t, I promise.” I assured her.
She sighed in relief. “Finally.”
Both sides became silent for a second before Jihyo proceeded again. “About your confession, I won’t reject you for now, YN.”
My hopes and dreams reignited and altered again with that single sentence that she said. I gasped and became overwhelmed at her response that I always thought after all these time that she would just nevermind and won’t take it seriously. “Please understand that my focus for now are on our studies, and you should be as well. I would also like to advice you to take care of yourself and use all of these time I will give for you to improve yourself and rebuild your self-esteem. I don’t want to see you being like this anymore, okay?”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I nodded at her as I listened attentively to her favor.
“Can you wait for me? I mean… if you can’t, w-well… if your heart gets tired of me, y-you can find someone new-”
“And what if I won’t?”
Jihyo considered my interruption and added a new suggestion. “Then how about I’ll wait for you to come back and you must do the same for me?”
“Deal.” We shook hands to seal it. As we slowed down the pace, I let out my gratitude for her. “Thank you for hearing my confession to you, Jihyo. You don’t know how light I feel now after I finally lift off this huge baggage I’m carrying inside of me for spending the entirety of the year admiring you which I thought that would be impossible.”
Jihyo slapped my arm and grinned. “Tss, it’s nothing. I want to also say thank you for speaking up to me about what you really feel for me and I appreciate it a lot, YN. All you had to do is to open up. Sometimes you just have to face your fears.”
We both smiled at each other and then burst out laughing afterwards to avoid getting ourselves trapped again in awkwardness. “There they are on the gate, we should start reviewing now.”
Jihyo began pulling out her things out of her bag and we opened our notes and papers. At this moment, we officially had a mutual understanding to remain being friends for now while we wait for the future to bring what we will end up to be.
3 YEARS LATER
Me and Jihyo were still friends until our last year level… while we couldn’t deny that the signs are still there in present. Today is our graduation day and we both received our certificates, declaring our successfully conclusion of almost becoming an engineer one step away.
As everyone were finally got called on the stage, awarded, and delivered their speeches, we were all commanded to throw our hats to the air and celebrate for ourselves of reaching this far for the best of our careers.
I went to my family and welcomed their greetings to me. I couldn’t help but to be emotional seeing them enveloping me into their embrace. I owe it all to their hardwork and dedication. If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t be here where they want me to be, and now me as well too. I’ll bring them with me as my start to build my life to its improvement.
After having my moment with them, now I went to search after to the only person that matters more to me than everybody else out there. I reached the center of the auditorium, it was empty, and my feet decelerated as I finally saw who I am looking for.
Jihyo was there, now in her new bobbed haircut, looking even more fantastic in her graduation gown. She was holding her award as mine and we faced each other from the distance in the middle of such crowded place. She smiled at me and I did the same for her.
I started walking to approach her and so did she. We stood face to face and we exchanged chuckles at one another.
“We did it.”
“Yeah. Can’t believe it as well.”
We stared at each other. I saw her smile slowly shrink from being proud to affectionate.
“YN… d-did you wait for me?”
“I… I did.” I nodded and smiled, although it’s hard as I knew what we’re about to discuss about.
“I’m sorry.” Jihyo said me and she couldn’t help but to cry for me. “I’m sorry if I couldn’t do the same.” I heaved out a long sigh as I try to mask my devastation.
“But you helped me in other way possible.” I comforted her, not wanting to see her drag herself down just because she failed to last long in the deal we made years ago. “You changed me for the better, Jihyo. Even though that I do admit that my heart is… shattered into pieces right now but that’s what doesn’t matter here.”
“I also give credit on you for what I am now today. I became the best version of myself just like you wanted me to be.” I smiled at him, despite my lips twitching in bittersweet. “I would’ve like it much to apply it on showing how I love you so much, that after all these years I remained loyal for you, I never gave up, Jihyo. I thought we’re gonna be something more in the end but… I was right all along.”
“The likes of us weren’t meant to be together. I have finally accepted that.” I nodded which urged my tears to fall more. “Despite in the way from our darkest days when you often refuse to run away just for the love you tried to save, that’s how it is. Some things cannot be saved when its destined to die.”
I looked at Jihyo and I swayed some of the hair blocking her mesmerizing beauty even with the ruined mascaras and smeared eyeliner.
“You probably even came to see me and hear me say I did too.” She said while she hiccuped on her sobs.
“No, I just came up to meet you to tell you how lovely you are today and…” I paused as I reached for the medal that is hanging around my neck. “W-will you please tell me this too for the last time? Have I made you proud too as well?” I asked her as I remember all of the times she makes me proud seeing her achieving all of those accomplishments she’s receiving because of her academic performance. That’s what motivated me to do better on my studies so that someday, I can make her be proud of me too.
“I know for sure I cheered the loudest I can get when I watch you grab that award, YN.” She nodded and smiled at me while sniffing her tears.
I feel contented at her answer. She immediately pulled me closer to her, my first and the warmest hug I ever shared with her. She cried aloud on my shoulder and I just hummed ay her as I try to comfort her as much as I can.
“Forgive me, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, YN. I wish I didn’t loved you for me to hurt you this badly.”
“I can’t hate you, Jihyo. You just discovered where your heart truly settles.” I said to her. “Don’t blame yourself now, please let’s just be happy for ourselves. Can you do it for me?”
“Y-yes…” I felt her head move around my hold. I knew she can hear my heart still beating loud for her. How I wish she still the same, but when I looked into her eyes, she’s not even there anymore.
I smiled at her, not minding what’s going on around us. I focused on Jihyo only, she’s the most important of them all as usual. It’s no denying that I gave her all I had and for sure I’m willing to repeat it.
“So this is what it feels like.” I lastly said before I broke the hug between us and exchanged congratulations for our success. I watched her return back to her place, to where she belongs. She reunited with her new boyfriend while I left as I finally lose control of my emotions. I cried out loud, defeated and disoriented.
I can’t believe that its over for the both of us.
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