#hope youre having the best day despite your current situation <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

m1ckeyb3rry · 7 months ago

Note

hi mira can i pls req a sae x reader and it’s like falling in love with someone. like you know that feeling when you’re really getting to know someone and it sounds like a soft song

i love uu take care x

── SEABIRD

Synopsis: Thanks to a chance encounter on the beach, you spend your vacation trying to apologize to the famous soccer player you inadvertently offended. Unfortunately, Sae Itoshi has other plans.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Sae x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 11.6k

Content Warnings: love at first sight, fluff, humor, teasing as a love language, sae does not understand emotions or relationships but he’s rich asf, reader has a little brother and loves eating, meet-cutes, summer romance, SEAGULLS

A/N: although sae is a difficult character for me to get a hold of, i ended up having fun with this LMAO as i’m sure you can tell by the massive word count 😭 i hope he’s not horribly ooc or anything and that this is kind of what you were looking for anon!! tysm for requesting and ily too <3

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

You tried to evaluate the series of choices you had made which had led to you lying atop a boy with green eyes and sand smeared across his cheeks, a blank expression on his face despite the way you were literally sprawled over him.

First: your family had decided to spend your summer vacation in Spain. This was innocuous and broad enough, considering how large the country was, so you concluded that your brother’s desire to practice his rudimentary Spanish in a more realistic setting than his high school classroom could not be blamed for your plight.

Second: your father had gotten a great deal on rooms in a luxury beachfront hotel. He was like a bloodhound when it came to haggling and discounts, so it wasn’t a surprise that you were staying in such a nice place for a relatively cheap price — and with a complimentary breakfast every morning, too! Anyways, the hotel had its own private pool that you could’ve been lounging around beside, so that probably wasn’t the cause, either.

Third: your mother had told you that the beach within walking distance of the hotel was famous for its smooth waters and pale sand. You had to visit at least once, according to her and every other travel guide written about the region, but since no one had wanted to go with you, you had decided to go alone, bringing a book, a bottle of sunscreen, and a blanket with you, throwing a dress on over your swimsuit and preparing yourself to spend the entire day soaking in the sun’s rays. This was definitely a contributor to your current predicament, although considering the miles of beach that stretched out in both directions as far as the eye could see where you could’ve been instead of right there, it wasn’t the sole factor.

Fourth: you had thought you would get hungry at some point and had had the foresight to bring a sandwich with you. That was definitely the reason. If only you hadn’t been so concerned with your stomach! If only you had just sucked it up and made the trek back to the hotel upon feeling peckish instead of being so lazy and planning ahead, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Can you get off of me?” the boy groaned.

“I am so sorry!” you said, scrambling to your feet and offering him your hand. He did not take it, standing on his own and doing his best to wipe the sand from his face. Then he shook his head like a dog, shaking out the grittiness from his soft hair. “I’m really sorry. I was just running so fast, and I was so worried about my sandwich that I didn’t notice you were there until it was too late!”

“Sandwich?” he said. A few paces away, a seagull landed, the remnants of your lunch held in its beak. You and the boy watched as it tilted its head back, swallowing the last few bites before cawing at you in satisfaction.

“You pig!” you shouted, pointing at it, the boy beside you temporarily forgotten as you fumed over the loss. It cocked its head at you. “That was mine!”

“Ah,” the boy said. “Your sandwich.”

The seagull hopped towards you, like it was teasing you or something, and you screeched before diving at it. Satisfied with the mischief it had caused and the food it had stolen, as well as with making a fool out of you, the seagull took wing, flying well out of reach and leaving you facedown on the ground, your stomach grumbling sadly and emptily.

A foot nudged against your rib cage. “Hey. Sandwich girl. You’re not concussed, are you?”

Being referred to as sandwich girl was so humiliating that you were instantly pushing yourself into a sitting position, folding your arms across your chest as you gazed up at the boy, who still wore that same unimpressed expression from when you had barreled into him.

“No,” you said.

“That’s great,” he said, though he did not sound particularly concerned nor relieved. “Mind elaborating a bit more on why you ran me over? You could’ve seriously injured me, and then you would’ve been in a bunch of trouble.”

“You would’ve been in a bunch of trouble,” you mocked, making your voice high and smarmy. “Jeez, what are you, some kind of celebrity or something? I ran you over because I was taking a break from reading my book, and I realized that I was hungry. Well, luckily, I had brought a sandwich along with me, so it wasn’t a huge deal. I was just about ready to dig in, when that fat pig of a bird swooped down and stole it right out of my hands! The gall! The shamelessness! It was definitely laughing at me, and I can’t stand anyone who laughs at me, so naturally I took off in pursuit, and, uh, that’s how I ended up crashing into you. Though you really should’ve been paying more attention, too. What’s so fascinating about the horizon that you just blocked out the rest of the world for it?”

“I like looking at the ocean,” he said. “But, wait. What do you mean, some kind of celebrity? Don’t you know who I am?”

You gave him a once-over. He was tall, though not impressively so, and definitely well-muscled. His hair was a warm shade, and his green eyes were framed with long eyelashes that fluttered every time he blinked. A pair of sunglasses was perched atop the crown of his head, and the top few buttons of his white shirt were undone, lending him a breezy appearance.

“You’re not handsome enough to be an actor, so that can’t be it,” you said, chewing on your lower lip in thought. “Plus, I’ve seen a bunch of movies, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t been in any of them, so if you were in the film industry, you’d be a D-lister at best, and there’s no way you’d want to flex that kind of status.”

He furrowed his brow, the first hint of a different expression than the one he had kept for the entirety of your very brief acquaintance. “What?”

“What else are people famous for?” you said. “Oh! Are you a singer or something? Were you in that one boy band from a few years ago? I’m sorry, I was too busy having a ‘not-like-other-girls’ phase when they were popular, so I never got into them. I’m over the phase now, if you were wondering, but that would be why I didn’t recognize you.”

“You are amazingly off the mark,” he said.

“I am? I’m kind of out of ideas at this point, though. Can I have a hint or something?” you said.

“Do you watch soccer?” he said. You made a face.

“Hell no,” you said. His eye twitched, so you hurried to elaborate. “My little brother is obsessed with it, so by law, I’m required to hate everything related to the sport. Do you have any siblings? You’d get it if you did.”

“Ask your brother about Sae Itoshi,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, drafting a text to your brother and sending it when you had deemed it to be a perfect blend of uninterested and cool while also underscoring the urgency of the request. “So, your name’s Sae Itoshi? I’m Y/N L/N! I’m not a celebrity, though. If you text anyone and ask them about me, they’ll probably be pretty confused.”

“Yeah, I got that impression,” he said. Your phone vibrated in your hand, and when you looked at the notification, you saw that it was from your brother.

uglier sibling: no shit i know about sae itoshi. he’s that one super talented midfielder on re al. he’s dad and i’s fav player atm.

You gulped, glancing up at Sae before returning to your phone.

me: lol wtf is re al.

uglier sibling: it’s madrid’s team lmfaooo dumbass how do you not know that

uglier sibling: actually wait why are u even asking lol

uglier sibling: did u meet him or something

me: funny story actually!

uglier sibling: WHAT

uglier sibling: y/n are u with sae itoshi rn.

uglier sibling: y/n answer pls

uglier sibling: can you at least get his autograph for me or smth???

Pretending like you were still texting your brother, you typed the name Sae Itoshi into your phone’s search engine. The photos that came up matched the boy in front of you, and the news articles made your heart pound. He actually was a celebrity, and furthermore, his earlier arrogance was deserved. If you had somehow injured such a famous player and put him out of commission for the season, then you really would’ve been done for. It hadn’t been an exaggerated sense of self-importance but an honest evaluation of himself.

“Ahem,” you said, feigning a cough to appear dignified and mature. “It seems like you are a pretty well-known soccer player, Mr. Itoshi.”

“It seems like I am,” he said.

“My brother and dad are big fans, apparently,” you said.

“Good thing you didn’t take me out permanently, then, or I’m sure they would’ve been pretty disappointed,” he said.

You cringed. “I’m sorry again.”

“Whatever. I won’t hold it against you; all’s well that ends well, after all,” he said.

“I feel really bad, though,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

“You didn’t do anything, so there’s nothing to make up for,” he said.

“Not true! I knocked you over and said you’re not handsome!” you said. “I’d say that warrants some kind of recompense.”

“It’ll warrant more recompense if you keep saying it,” he said.

“You agree that you deserve payment, then? Great! Um…how about I…buy you lunch?” you said, the insistent pangs of your stomach reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten.

“Is food the only thing you can think about?” he said.

“For your information, it is not, but I haven’t eaten since the morning, so I’m hungry,” you said.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m not interested, and just so you know, I’ve been asked out by plenty of girls, but by far, this has been the lamest attempt.”

You supposed, looking back, that it did seem like that was your end goal. But, of course, it had been nothing of the sort; you were just planning on going to eat yourself and thought that you might as well kill two birds with one stone. It was just your luck that he had twisted your words into such a request, though! How were you supposed to maneuver yourself out of this position? If you denied it furiously, then it would seem like you were just ashamed at getting caught, but if you didn’t say anything, then it would be akin to agreeing with his accusation.

There was only one way out of it, and even though you were usually opposed to lying, and even more opposed to bullying others, it was the only thing you could think of. So, bowing your head, you clasped your hands together in front of your heart.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not my type, Mr. Itoshi,” you said. “Like I said, you’re really not that handsome. Also, I’m into tall guys.”

That was how you found yourself sitting across from Sae Itoshi in a private booth at a fancy restaurant, your hands trembling as you read over the menu items and their associated prices.

“I’m in the mood for steak,” Sae said, stroking his chin and setting down his menu, interlacing his fingers and raising his eyebrows at you. “What about you?”

“Steak is a dinner item, don’t you think?” you said, your head spinning at the fact that he had picked the most expensive thing that was served at the entire establishment. “It’s lunchtime.”

“I’m an athlete,” he said seriously. “I need a lot of protein in all of my meals. Especially because I’m so short. It’s important for me to build muscle, don’t you agree? How else will I manage to compete with the taller, better-looking players?”

“Steak it is,” you said with a faux smile. “As for me, I’ll just get crackers.”

“Crackers? What kind of lunch is that?” he said.

“An affordable one,” you muttered under your breath.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing!” you said. “It’s nothing. I just really like crackers.”

He gave you an odd look. “Alright.”

You waved the waiter over. He had been hovering around your table for the past few minutes, and as soon as he saw you beckoning him, he sprinted to your side, fumbling with his pen and notepad before reaching you and bowing.

“Sae Itoshi, sir! I’m sorry to interrupt your date, but I just wanted to say that I’m a huge fan of yours. If — if it’s not too much trouble, could I have your autograph?” he said.

Sae sighed, a long-suffering and irritable sigh. “Just take our order first. I’ll give it to you after we’ve eaten.”

“Oh, my apologies,” the waiter said. “What would you like?”

“I’ll have the steak, and I also want this sandwich, but omit the tomatoes, please,” he said, pointing at the menu items he wanted.

“Got it,” the waiter said. “What about you, miss?”

“Just the crackers,” you said. The waiter paused, but when you did not say anything more, he giggled nervously.

“Would you, uh, like some cheese with those?” he said.

“Nope,” you said. “I’m really the biggest fan of plain crackers. That’s all I want.”

“Sure, miss, if that’s what you’d like,” he said. “So, one steak, one sandwich, and a plate of crackers?”

“That’s right,” Sae said, hardly looking up from his phone when he did so. It was only once the waiter had run off to place your orders that he put the device away, resting his elbows against the table, setting his chin in his hands and giving you a bored look. “Why are you glaring at me?”

“Steak and a sandwich, really?” you said.

“A conversation with you was more than enough to increase my appetite,” he said. “Forget about that. This is the part where you ask me questions about myself and I pretend like I am interested enough to answer them.”

“Why would I do that?” you said, rolling your eyes at him. “Actually, I’m pretty sure your answer to that question will be something that makes me even more annoyed than I already am, so don’t bother. What’s your favorite movie?”

“You’re not going to ask me about soccer?” he said. “It’s Taxi Driver, by the way.”

“I don’t know that much about soccer, so what would I even ask? Based on what I’ve seen from the matches my brother and dad watch, it’s just a bunch of sweaty guys kicking around a ball and pretending like they’re dying whenever another player happens to look at them the wrong way,” you said. “Oh, actually, I am curious about that. How many of those injuries are real? Have you ever faked getting hurt?”

“Almost none of them,” he said. “Generally, players will overreact for the sake of entertainment and the possibility of the opposition receiving yellow cards. I’ve never needed to do anything like that, and I never want to, because it looks stupid. Also, soccer is more than that mediocre description you just gave me.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” you said. “Man kick ball. Ball go in net. Man happy. That’s the extent of it.”

“Women play soccer, too,” he said.

“It’s the same concept there, but with women instead of men. Not the argument you thought it was,” you said.

“I can’t believe you actually dislike soccer,” he said.

There was definitely some irony in the fact that you couldn’t care less about his chosen sport, and yet you were the one who had somehow finagled your way into eating with him — even if you were the one who was paying. There were so many people who’d do anything to be in your place, but to you, it was a begrudging chore that you were only performing because you felt obligated to. Mentally, you had already marked the entire encounter down as something that you’d laugh about to your friends later; a fun story you’d tell at parties, but little else.

“Like I told you earlier, I’m the older sister. If I didn’t rag on my brother’s interests, then I couldn’t claim that title in any way that mattered,” you said. Sae’s eyes flicked down to the ground.

“You should be nice to your brother when you can,” he said.

“Are you some kind of an only child or saint, then? There’s no way you’re saying that if you have a normal relationship with any possible siblings,” you said.

“I have a little brother,” he said. “Our relationship is okay. I haven’t seen him in a while, though.”

“Long distance?” you said, reaching over to pat him on the hand sympathetically. “That’s the worst. I miss my friends and my pets already, and I’m only here for vacation.”

He snatched his hand away. “You make it sound like we’re dating or something. It’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be the same as it was whenever I go back.”

“True, it’s not like he can dump you and find a new brother who’s both better and more conveniently located than you are. He’s kind of stuck with you forever,” you said.

“Enough about my brother,” he said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay,” you said. “What TV shows do you watch when you’re bored?”

The two of you continued on in that mindless manner until your food arrived. Your mood, which had steadily been rising as Sae proved himself to be, if nothing else, a willing conversationalist, rapidly plummeted as the waiter set the steak and sandwich in front of Sae and the crackers in front of you.

“Enjoy your meal,” the waiter said.

“I’m sure one of us will,” you said, picking up a cracker and biting into it rebelliously. Sae began to cut his steak into small pieces, using his fork to demurely place the meat on his tongue, doing nothing to disguise the indulgence of eating such a wonderfully prepared meal while you were stuck with crackers.

“What a shame,” Sae said when he was about halfway through his steak. You hadn’t spoken since the food had come, mostly because you were too busy fervently hoping that he would choke and you would somehow be awarded a free meal as an apology on the restaurant’s part, so you jumped at the sound of his voice cutting through the silence. “My eyes were bigger than my stomach. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat that sandwich after all.”

“We should send it back, then,” you said.

“What sort of place do you think this is?” he said. “It’s already been ordered, so it’s ours now.”

“Are you serious?” you said. “What now? I’ll have to pay for something that you didn’t even eat!”

“You’ll just have to have it,” he said.

“Me?” you said, already salivating at the delectable sandwich, the bread which was taunting you. Come, it seemed to be calling out to you. Eat me. You know you want to. “I guess that’s a sensible prospect. Someone’s going to have to take it.”

“Someone will,” he agreed, sliding the plate across the table and stealing a cracker for his troubles. “It might as well be you. My coach will be pretty upset if I get stomach cramps next season because I overate too much on my off time. I’d have to tell him that it was your fault, and then you’d have all of Re Al after you, and you don’t want that. They’re relentless.”

Your fingers inched towards the sandwich. “I definitely don’t. That sounds scary.”

“It would be amusing,” he said. “A waste of resources, though. They might cut my salary to make up for it. ”

“Then the only solution is for me to eat this sandwich,” you said.

“Essentially,” he said. You gave in, taking an enormous bite of the tantalizing sandwich and exhaling in delight. It really was as good as the exorbitant price tag claimed it would be, and although you would never buy such a thing for yourself, you found that you were a little more grateful for the series of events that had led you to be in this position now that your stomach was finally being greeted with something substantial.

“It’s good,” you said, your words muffled by the napkin you held in front of your mouth as you finished chewing. “I can kind of get why they charge so much now. It’s still way more than any sandwich should ever cost, ever, but…I kinda get it. Is your food good, too?”

“It is,” he said.

“Alright!” you said, giving him a double thumbs up. “Then you can consider this a worthy apology! Let’s finish eating and be done with the entire mess.”

“Hm? But how can it be a worthy apology when I’m the one who paid for everything? To me, that doesn’t sound like an apology at all,” he said. You froze, your mouth wide open, the sandwich still halfway to your mouth and drooping in your hands. Sae looked at you, still expressionless, though if you really focused, you would’ve noticed something like mirth dancing in his irises.

“What do you mean?” you said. He unlocked his phone and showed you his screen.

“You can pay by app here,” he said. “I did it as soon as we were done ordering. I was going to tell you after you ordered what you wanted for yourself, but I wasn’t expecting you to be so frugal that you’d really only order crackers!”

“But — but I was supposed to pay! To apologize for—”

“You don’t have to say it,” Sae said sourly, cutting you off. “Believe me, I remember exactly what you have to apologize for, and I’m not going to forget. I just paid this time because I was feeling generous, but you still owe me.”

It was a little suspicious, but you didn’t have any reason to accuse him of anything, so you only narrowed your eyes at him. Taking another bite of your sandwich, you mulled over the latest reveal. He was paying for the entire lunch? You still owed him? You could manipulate that in your favor, then.

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll pay for your breakfast,” you said. “The hotel I’m staying at has complimentary breakfast for guests, but outsiders can eat for a certain fee. I’ll pay for your entrance, and then we can be even.”

“Sure,” he said. “I eat breakfast early, though.”

“How early?” you said.

“I have a snack at 7:00 a.m., before I go for my morning run, and then I eat a proper meal afterwards,” he said.

“Oh!” you said. “Any chance you could not do that?”

“It’s part of my training regimen,” he said. “How about you pay for my food and come on my run with me?”

“I hate running,” you said.

“You’re apologizing. It’s supposed to be an agonizing process,” he said. “You’ve called me short and ugly at least three separate times already, not to mention the entire slamming into me ordeal. It’s really the least you can do.”

“7:00 it is,” you said, though you were fighting back tears at the mere thought of getting up so early while on vacation. “Give me your phone.”

“No way,” he said, holding the phone away from you while you tried to swipe at it. “What are you going to do, post something embarrassing on my social media accounts?”

“Why would I do that?” you said. “I was going to text myself so I had your number and could send you my location for tomorrow.”

“Or you could tell me which hotel you’re staying at now, and then my phone is entirely removed from the equation,” he suggested.

“Do you think I remember the name?” you said. “That’s a rhetorical question, by the way. I don’t.”

He handed you his phone with an aggravated huff. “Fine. Don’t abuse the privilege. I only give important people my contact information.”

“Woah, you really are stingy,” you said, scrolling through his contacts list. All of them either had the designation of work attached to their profiles, or they were clearly members of Sae’s family.

Clicking on the plus sign in the corner, you created a new contact for yourself, typing in your number and giving yourself the name Y/N L/N — sandwich. It fit the naming conventions he had going on, and if it weren’t for the reminder that you were the so-called ‘sandwich girl’, you doubted he would remember who you were in the first place.

“Of course I am. Imagine I gave every crazy fan I met my number. I’d have a million stalkers before you could say Re Al,”he said.

“I’m not a crazy fan. To clarify, I’m not a fan in the first place,” you said, texting yourself from his number before taking out your own phone and responding to the message with a thumbs up.

“Correct, which is why you get my number,” he said.

“I feel so honored,” you said dryly. “Actually, you know what? I would feel honored, if it weren’t for the fact that you’re only giving it to me because you want to wake me up at an unholy hour and make me run with you before paying for your breakfast.”

“Would you rather pay for this meal?” he said, showing you the receipt he had been emailed. Your eyes widened, and then you shook your head rapidly.

“Nope! See you tomorrow!”

The next morning, you tiptoed around the hotel room as you got ready, trying your best not to wake your mother up. She, and the rest of your family, had been up late last night, going out for dinner and dessert well past your bedtime. Far too embarrassed to tell them the realreason you were going to sleep early, you had said you were sick and went to bed as soon as the sun set.

Angrily gnawing on a granola bar from your mother’s emergency stash, you stomped down the spiraling hotel staircase, your eyes still bleary as you texted your family group chat that you were going out for a morning walk but would be back for breakfast.

Sae Itoshi was waiting for you in the lobby, doing some weird stretching routine that involved pressing his foot against the wall and leaning over it. You watched him, bemused, wondering which muscles he was trying to stretch before giving up and deciding it was probably one of those pro moves that you were too uninterested and unathletic for.

“Oh, you’re here,” he said. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you said, giving him another one of the granola bars you had taken from your mother’s backpack. “Sorry, it’s sort of smushed. It’s been in a backpack for the last few days.”

He pinched the wrapper between his forefinger and thumb, looking at the granola bar with a disgusted expression. You didn’t think it was thategregious, but according to Sae, it must have been all but an offense against humanity, as he tossed it into the trash can within seconds of having it within his grasp.

“I already ate my snack,” he said.

“Why did you throw that away? I could’ve eaten it!” you said.

“That thing had probably melted and reformed at least twice. It was most definitely radioactive. I did you a favor, so you should say thank you,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr. Itoshi, for protecting me from the horrors of a slightly misshapen granola bar. I’m sure that, by throwing away that still edible brick of deliciousness, you have done me a great service. Possibly, you have even saved my life. I am eternally grateful,” you said.

He snorted. “You’re terrible at groveling. No wonder you have to do all of this ridiculous stuff to apologize to me instead of just saying sorry and moving on like a normal person.”

“Look, it’s a product of my upbringing,” you said. He finished stretching and headed out of the door; you followed after him with a smile at the hotel concierge, who seemed surprised to watch you go — whether it was the hour or your company, you weren’t sure. “Whenever my parents did something to upset me, they never apologized. They just came to my room with a bowl of fruit they had cut for me.”

“At least you got fruit,” he said. “My parents just told me to go practice soccer until I had cooled off.”

“Wow, really? That’s hardcore,” you said. Sae began to jog, and you did the same, though it was closer to a run for you than anything. “Did you just kick around the ball until you were less mad?”

“Pretty much,” he said.

“How horrible,” you said.

“Eh, it’s fine. It was a good way to get my anger out, and it had the added benefit of making me better at the sport, so it was pretty constructive overall,” he said.

“I still can’t imagine it,” you said, shaking your head. “What’s it like, being a professional athlete? Your entire life revolves around a game. What about when you can’t play anymore? When you’re too old, or if you get injured?”

His upper lip curled. “Do you want that to happen or something? Why are you speaking it into existence?”

“Not the injury part, but everyone grows old. You can’t stop that,” you said.

“I’ll play for as long as I can, and then I’ll coach for longer,” he said. “After that, I’ll retire and make sure my kids follow in my footsteps. Athletes make a lot of money, so I luckily won’t ever have to worry much about my finances.”

“What if your kids don’t want to play soccer?” you said. He actually sneered this time, the expression at home on his cold face.

“What else would they do with themselves? If they don’t want to play soccer, or if they have no talent at it, then they’re definitely not my children in the first place,” he said.

“Hm, maybe cooking? What if they want to be a chef?” you said.

“Then I’d wonder how your kids snuck into my house,” he said. You gasped, though it was as much for breath as it was out of offense.

“Stop it! You just happened to catch me at a hungry time!” you said.

“Sure,” he said.

“Just entertain the hypothetical that you really did somehow father children that were into cooking instead of soccer. How would you react?” you said.

“I would put them up for adoption,” he said.

“Seriously?” you said.

“No, obviously not,” he said. “What kind of person do you think I am? Why did you actually find that to be within the realm of possibility?”

“I think you’re some kind of soccer fiend. Who knows how dedicated you are to the cause?” you said.

“Not that dedicated,” he said. “I’d be disappointed if my kids can’t play soccer, and our relationship would probably be a bit distant, as I don’t know much about anything else, but I wouldn’t disown them.”

“You don’t know much about anything besides soccer? That’s a little sad,” you said.

“Kind of,” he said.

“Do you wish you knew about other things?” you said.

“Everyone has something they specialize in. It’s not uncommon for someone to know a lot about one thing and only a little about others,” he said. “My ‘thing’ is soccer. If it wasn’t that, then it’d be something else, so if I was in the business of wishing, I’d always be unsatisfied.”

You were already panting for breath when Sae picked up the pace, though he had not so much as broken a sweat yet. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, taking in your obvious struggles, and then he made the decision to not slow down at all.

“I get it,” you said. “You’ll face no judgment from me.”

“Like I would care if you did judge me,” he said. “You’re already dying, and we haven’t even started running yet.”

“This isn’t running?” you said. “What the hell? How much faster can you even go?”

“If you think that this is anywhere near the pace of an average soccer match, then I don’t even know where to begin with you,” he said.

“You look slower on TV!”

“What, so you think I’m slow, too?”

You and Sae returned to the hotel in markedly different conditions. He wasn’t even warm, still appearing to be perfectly put together and entirely perspiration-free, smelling faintly like body soap and cologne. On the other hand, you were still trying to regain your wits about you, leaning on his shoulder so that you did not fall over from exhaustion.

“This is embarrassing for you,” he informed you as you walked towards the breakfast area.

“You’re a professional athlete and I’m a normal girl! It would be embarrassing for you if I could keep up!” you argued weakly.

“That would be true, if I wasn’t going easy on you,” he said, pulling out a chair for you and helping you into it, brushing his arm off when he was sure you were seated. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. Be right back.”

“Have fun,” you said, resting your head in your hands, already knowing what you wanted to get. “We can walk through the buffet together. I’ll take the time to recover.”

“You do that,” he said.

While he was gone, you opened your phone, catching up on all of the texts in the family group chat that you hadn’t been able to read while you were attempting to run with Sae.

me: going for a morning walk but i’ll be back for breakfast

me: just wanted to let you all know so you weren’t worried!

uglier sibling: yeah nobody was worried LMFAO

mom: Hope you’re feeling better, honey!

dad: Make sure you’re back before 10. That’s when the complimentary breakfast ends, and we’re not paying for overpriced toast with jam.

uglier sibling: i still can’t believe u went for a morning walk

uglier sibling: like

uglier sibling: since when do u voluntarily wake up in the mornings at all let alone leave ur bed LET ALONE TAKE A WALK

uglier sibling: bitches will meet sae itoshi one time and suddenly they’re fitness influencers or wtvr

uglier sibling: btw i’m still mad that u didn’t get his autograph or a photo with him or anything

uglier sibling: i bet u made it up

uglier sibling: LIAR. FRAUD. HACK.

mom: Honey, leave your sister alone. Why would she make something like that up?

dad: Your mother is right. Y/N doesn’t even know who Sae Itoshi is.

So it was a typical conversation, then. You hadn’t missed much; just your brother being salty and your parents showing some care for your well-being, as well as your father worrying for his wallet like he was prone to do. You didn’t even bother responding, just liking your father’s two messages and then putting your phone away.

“Y/N, you’re back already? What good timing!” your father called out to you from the entrance to the hotel restaurant. The world slowed as you turned to see the rest of your family walking into the restaurant, dressed in their typical touristy outfits. Your mother waved at you, and your brother faked gagging.

“Wow, you look like shit,” he said. “The fuck kinda morning walk were you on?”

“Gross, it’s you,” you said. “Go away! I’m busy.”

“You don’t even have any food with you,” he pointed out. “Can I sit with you? The parents are way too chipper in the mornings.”

“No!” you said.

“But there’s an empty seat at your table. Are you saving it for someone?” he said.

“Yes,” you said, wishing that for once they would’ve all slept in instead of getting here at the exact time that you and Sae had.

“No, you’re not,” he said.

“Come on, you two, let’s sit together and have a family breakfast!” your father said, motioning you and your brother over from where he and your mother had settled at a four-person table. Your brother gave you a pleading look.

“I’ll owe you forever,” he said. “I’ll grind on all of your video games for you the entire plane ride home!”

“I’m not lying, dude, I actually am sitting with someone. Now fuck off and leave me alone!” you hissed.

“Who?” he said, crossing his arms. “Your imaginary friend? Or your imaginary boyfriend!”

“Excuse me? Sorry, I was sitting there. Do you mind—?”

The most comical expression you had ever seen flashed over your brother’s face just then. It was horror mixed with incredulity mixed with extreme confusion. He turned slowly, his jaw dropping as he made eye contact with Sae Itoshi, whose dry countenance and perfect posture were as off-putting as ever.

“What?” your brother said. “What is going on?”

Sae sat opposite you. “This hotel has the most confusing first floor layout I’ve ever encountered. It took me ages just to find the bathroom.”

“There’s signs. Can you not read?” you said. He stared at you dully.

“I can read. I just happened not to look up at them,” he said.

“If I didn’t want to pay for even more food, I’d make another short joke, but I shall refrain,” you said.

“That was cutting it close,” he said.

“Y/N. My beautiful, amazing, wonderful older sister,” your brother said.

“Yes?” you said, preparing yourself for the incoming explosion. “Also, that’s not what you were calling me in the group chat earlier, was it?”

“Is that Sae Itoshi?” he said.

“Liar, fraud, hack, was that what it was?” you said. “Run along, loser. Maybe if you were nicer to me, I’d let you sit with us.”

Your brother opened his mouth to argue, but then, like he had remembered he was standing in front of his idol, he hung his head and trudged off, scuffing his toes against the floor as he did and giving you a betrayed look over his shoulder.

“That’s your little brother?” Sae said.

“Yup,” you said. “Your self-proclaimed biggest fan.”

“And you made him go sit with your parents instead of talking to me? You’re super mean, big sister,” Sae said.

“He wouldn’t shut up if I let him stay here, and considering the goal of this is for you to eat and then leave me alone for the rest of my vacation, that would not be conducive,” you said.

“I see,” he said. “I didn’t realize that was the goal.”

“Isn’t it yours, as well? I’m sure you’d like to enjoy yourself on your time off from soccer,” you said.

“Who says I’m not enjoying myself?” he said. You furrowed your brow at him.

“You’ve had the same expression on your face every time we’ve spoken,” you pointed out, lowering your eyelids and pursing your lips in an imitation of his resting mien. “Like this. It’s totally amphibious.”

“Amphibious?” he repeated. “What does that even mean?”

“You don’t know what amphibious means? Man, when you said you only focused on soccer, I didn’t think it was this bad!” you said.

“I know what amphibious means! I just don’t see how the word applies,” he said.

“Oh, right. Well, you kind of look like the frog emoji,” you said. “Sorry, I could’ve been clearer. That’s my bad.”

“Were you dropped on the head as a baby? I’m asking this from a place of concern, not anger,” Sae said. “It’s because you say so many nonsensical things. After all, I look nothing like the frog emoji.”

“Sure, and people tell me I look like a famous actress,” you said.

“Really?” he said.

“No, I thought we were both saying things that aren’t true,” you said.

“I think you look like a famous actress,” he said. “There. Now we’re both saying things that are true.”

“Well done, Mr. Itoshi! That was clever,” you said, knowing when to concede.

“Thank you,” he said. “Let’s go get our food now. If you die of starvation on my watch, it’ll be a major scandal for Re Al.”

“Your manager must love you,” you said. “So conscientious of your public image.”

“Nope, he’s usually pretty pissed at me,” he said as the two of you got in the buffet line.

“What for?” you said.

“Contrary to what you think, I’m pretty unconcerned with my public image. I’m a soccer player, not some kind of philanthropist or actor or whatever,” he said. “What does it matter if I offend people? My value is in playing well, not being friendly or kind.”

“No one ever accused you of being either of those two,” you said, spreading butter and jam over your toast. “You’re not that bad, though.”

“You’re not that bad, either,” he said. “At least, you’re better company than my manager.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” you said. He scoffed.

“You have low standards,” he said.

“Yours are lower,” you said.

“Very mature response.”

“Thanks!”

Sae was a pretty agreeable breakfast partner. He wasn’t as impossibly cheerful as your parents, who generally drove you crazy with their talkativeness so early in the day, but he also wasn’t as silent and closed off as your brother, who was prone to snapping at others until he had finished at least half of his meal. As with lunch yesterday, it was almost an enjoyable experience, right up until you remembered whose card he was eating on.

“Where are you going?” he said when your plates had been cleared and you had pushed yourself to your feet. He followed after you as you made your way to the hostess’s station, ignoring the whispers that echoed behind the two of you.

“To pay for you to be here, duh,” you said, fishing around in your purse for your wallet. “I know you’re famous and all, but that doesn’t mean you get to eat for free. In fact, that was kind of the point of the meal.”

“I already paid for myself, so you can go and sit back down with your family if you’d like,” he said.

“What? When?” you said.

“I wouldn’t spend that long in a bathroom,” he said. “Not a public one.”

“You little—! Now what?” you said.

“Now you have to see me tomorrow,” he said. “Bye. I’ll pick you up for dinner, so make sure to wear something nice, and bring your credit card. It’s your treat.”

He walked off with a jaunty wave, leaving you standing there, confounded by the development. He had paid for himself again? What was the point of making you take him places if he was just going to cough up the cash himself anyways?

“Psst. Y/N,” your brother said. You weren’t sure when or where he had appeared, but it remained that he was suddenly tapping you on the shoulder and whispering in your ear. “Does Sae Itoshi have a crush on you? If so, please ask if he can get tickets for dad and I to attend his next game.”

“What?” you said, a shockwave running through your entire body at the mere thought of Sae having a crush on you. It was so juvenile and cliched as to be out of Sae’s character entirely. “No! I just owe him.”

“For what?” your brother said.

“I ran into him, called him ugly, and said that he was short,” you said. “Indirectly, of course, but it still happened. I was supposed to buy him lunch yesterday as an apology, but then he ended up paying for us both, and then today, I went on a run with him, and I was going to pay for him to have breakfast here, but guess what?”

“He paid for himself?” your brother said.

“He paid for — yeah, how did you know?” you said.

“There weren’t that many ways the story could’ve gone. Also, I overheard you guys talking,” he said.

“Creep,” you said.

“Weirdo,” he said.

“Freak,” you said.

“Stupid,” he said. “I bet he has a crush on you.”

“Why would he? We have zero common interests, and I’ve mostly only insulted him in our very short time knowing one another,” you said.

“Maybe he’s into that. Some guys are. My one friend is — actually, I’m not exposing him like that,” he said.

“Thank you, because I really didn’t want to know,” you said.

“Anyways, where I was going with that is some guys like girls who humble them a bit. Especially someone like Sae Itoshi; he’s probably so used to people falling all over themselves to get his attention that it’s nice for him to hang out with someone who’s too oblivious to care about that kind of stuff,” he said.

“People like you?” you said. “I told him you were his biggest fan, just so you know.”

“Why would you do that?” your brother said, his eyes bugging out and his mouth forming a pained grimace. “He probably thinks I’m a nerd now!”

“You do it to yourself, buddy,” you said. “Let’s go. It looks like the parents want us to go sit with them. Think you can handle it?”

“After learning that my hero has a crush on my sister and, furthermore, probably thinks of me as some kind of dweeb, I can handle anything,” he said.

The entire day, you pondered your brother’s words. Did Sae have a crush on you? Running through his actions and every conversation you both had ever had led you to think that he did not. It didn’t seem like he liked you very much in even a platonic sense, so how could anyone begin to think he liked you romantically? It was just tolerance for the sake of his pride, that was all.

And you definitely didn’t like him. He was emotionless and conceited and teased you far too often. What did it matter that he was somewhat attractive? He had a terrible personality, and you bet that if more of his fans knew what he was like, he wouldn’t have any to begin with.

No wonder Sae’s manager hated him. He was probably a jerk to his poor employees, too.

“We’re thinking of going here for dinner tonight,” your father said the next day. “Look, their reviews are pretty high, and their prices aren’t crazy. What does everyone think?”

“I’m fine with anything,” your mother said.

“Same here,” your brother said.

“Y/N?” your father said. You were about to respond when your own phone buzzed. You knew exactly who it was texting you, and you sighed as you opened it.

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): I will be there in one hour.

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): You better not have forgotten about our plans for tonight.

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): I made a reservation, so I’ll really be mad if you stand me up.

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): Especially because you’re paying.

me: I WILL BE THERE OMFG STOP TEXTING ME

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): Okay.

“I can’t,” you said.

“Why not? Are you on some new diet or something? They should have vegetarian options, so that won’t be a problem,” your father said. “We can look at their menu beforehand if you prefer, and if you really don’t like anything, then we can find somewhere else.”

“I already have plans,” you said, your lower lip jutting out childishly. “Not that I want to! But I made a promise.”

“You already have plans? What’s that supposed to mean?” your mother said.

“I’m having dinner with someone,” you said.

“Ooh, how exciting! With who?” she said.

“I bet I can guess!” your brother sang.

“Enough out of you!” you said, kicking him in the back of the leg. He doubled over, though that did not stop him from smirking at you.

“Y/N and Sae, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” he said.

“You’re going out with Sae Itoshi?” your father said. “You should’ve just said so! That’s perfectly alright, honey. Actually, he’s the one man I’m not upset about you dating!”

“We are not dating!” you said. “It’s a more transactional relationship than that. No feelings involved. It’s just me apologizing to him.”

“Are you close enough to him to get an autograph for your brother and I?” your dad said.

“Um.” You thought about it. Would Sae give you an autograph for them? You weren’t sure. There was a chance he would, but there was also a high chance he would not. “I dunno. I can ask.”

“You’ll ask for dad, but not for me? Wow, I see how it is,” your brother said.

“Yeah, because you’re annoying!” you said. “Ugh. I have to get ready now. He’ll be here to get me in an hour. Have fun at dinner, all of you. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers.”

“You have fun as well,” your mother said. “Make sure not to bring any money with you. Gentlemen should always pay on the first date.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that,” you said, giving up on explaining things to your family for the sake of your sanity.

Sae was aggressively punctual. Exactly an hour after he had texted you, a shiny black car was pulling up in the valet lane, and a tall, bald man in a suit was opening the door for you. You climbed in awkwardly, finding Sae to be sitting on the other side, gazing out of the window pensively.

“Hello,” you said, smoothing your dress and buckling your seatbelt. “You have a driver?”

“Of course I do,” he said. “I usually walk places when I’m on vacation, but this restaurant is kind of far, so I thought it’d be more prudent to have the driver take us.”

“I see,” you said. “Thank you, driver, sir.”

The driver hummed in acknowledgement but did not say anything else. You supposed he probably wasn’t used to talking with his passengers; you doubted Sae ever spoke to him much.

“It’s been so hot out recently,” Sae said stiffly.

“That’s what happens during the summer, yes,” you said.

“That’s true,” he said.

“You’re right, though,” you said. “It has been hot.”

“Super hot,” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “Super hot.”

That must’ve been why there was a slight redness to his cheeks. There was definitely no other reason. And there wasn’t any other reason for why you felt uncomfortably warm, shifting in your seat to dissipate the feeling in your stomach. It was the temperature. That was all.

Given the trend, you really should have anticipated it when Sae paid for your dinner while you were freshening up in the bathroom, but you really had not seen it coming in the slightest. He scrunched up his face when you argued, simply telling you that he would see you tomorrow before dropping you back off at your hotel, the receipt in your hand, his flourishing signature scrawled across the back.

“For your brother,” he had said, handing it to you before you could even ask him for his autograph. “You said he was a fan, right? I’ll get him a better one later, but for now, this should do.”

You spent every day of the rest of that vacation with Sae Itoshi. Some days, you would accompany him on a morning walk — he had softened to slowing his pace, so that he was only barely jogging instead of the full on run that he had forced you into that first time — and on others, the two of you would have some meal or another together. The common theme was that, if there was money involved, he would take care of it. Without question, without hesitation, he always slapped your hand back and pulled out his own credit card, telling you that now you both had to meet again, and the next time you really would be the one paying, or else he’d never be able to forgive you for your terrible behavior.

Your parents and brother complained about it at first, as your new friendship with Sae — could it be considered a friendship, or was it something else? — meant you did not see them much on what was supposed to be a family vacation.

You brought it up with Sae, and he responded with something about how it wouldn’t have been a problem at all if you weren’t such a freeloader and actually paid for him, like you were supposed to. This resulted in a lighthearted squabble between you both, which in turn made you forget your family’s whining, and as well you should have. You could take a million more vacations with them, but you’d likely never get a chance to hang out with Sae Itoshi again, so why wouldn’t you take advantage of it when you could?

Sae didn’t forget, though. He sent you back from dinner the next evening with a soccer ball he had won in one of his games, his signature and a note of gratitude scribbled on it in black marker.

Thank you for letting me borrow your daughter and sister from you while you’re on your trip. I really appreciate it, even if she doesn’t know anything about soccer. — Sae Itoshi

They stopped complaining after that. The ball became your brother’s most prized possession, and every day, your father would tell you how happy he was that you had made such a considerate friend.

“And you know, if you ever want to date him,” he’d say, elbowing you in the side with an obnoxious wink. “We wouldn’t be opposed!”

Your mother was in the same boat. “He really cares about you, I think. Enough that he gave your family something so precious just because he thought we didn’t like him. You could do a lot worse than that.”

“Plus, he’s rich and famous!” your brother would chime in without fail. “Double win!”

“You guys are all nuts,” you’d tell them, shaking your head to disguise how pleased the thought of dating Sae made you.

It could never happen. Like your brother was so happy to remind you, he was rich and famous, an athlete that was adored worldwide and played for the best soccer club in history. He could have any girl he wanted, so why would he ever choose you? You and he were from two different planes of existence. Maybe you could pretend for a little bit that you weren’t, but the date for your eventual departure from Spain was drawing closer and closer, and that day meant the certain end of the fever dream that was your closeness with Sae.

You had been prepared from the start for it to finish in this way. You would go home and tell all of your friends about your trip, how you had spent almost every day with the famous soccer player Sae Itoshi, how he had given you his phone number and made you go on runs with him, how together, you and him had eaten lunch and dinner and breakfast and several meals that you were convinced he had just made up to have an excuse to buy food for the two of you — brunch, linner, midnight snacks and third desserts.

There were other things that you wouldn’t tell them, too, things that Sae had not necessarily said to you in confidence but which you sensed were held close to his heart and which you would therefore hold close to yours. His little brother was named Rin, and they had the same eyes, though Rin’s were quicker to water and perpetually had hair falling into them. He still watched the same shows he used to when he was very small, because they reminded him of his parents’ home. He thought that a person’s athletic potential could be determined by the shape of their butt, but he tended to avoid looking as a form of respect for others.

“That’s a pretty cool skill, Sae! What do you think my athletic potential is?” you had asked when he had revealed that last fact.

“If it’s possible for a person to have negative potential, then that’s about what yours is. If it’s not, then you’re definitely at a zero,” he had responded.

“You didn’t even look,” you had said, shoving a French fry into his mouth as punishment. He hated French fries for how unhealthy they were, and you had half-expected him to lecture you about fats and oils and salts, but instead, he had dutifully chewed and swallowed without any theatrics.

“Don’t need to, and don’t plan to,” he had said, and that was that. “I’ve already seen you run, and that told me all I needed to know about your athletic skills. Or, in this case, your lack thereof.”

If you took his words at face value, then you would’ve thought he truly hated you. He never missed a chance to make fun of you, and you were the same way — certainly, anyone who overheard your conversations would’ve been convinced that you and he were bitter enemies. But that was because they didn’t see the way he always positioned himself on the sidewalk so that he was between you and the oncoming traffic. They didn’t see the way he’d pull out your chair and only pretend to frown when you’d thank him for it. They didn’t see the way his ears would turn pink if you dared to smile in his direction or, heaven forbid, agreed with what he was saying instead of arguing, as was your go-to.

No, you were pretty confident that Sae Itoshi did not hate you. It was just that soccer was his thing and all other areas were beyond him, areas which included such fields as emotional awareness and sensitivity.

Maybe you might tell the friends you were particularly close to about that. Sae Itoshi treated me pretty well, you’d say, with grand, sweeping hand motions to emphasize the point. As well as he knew how to, which was well enough for me. If I ever get a boyfriend, they’ll have a lot to live up to. Seems kind of unfair to whatever poor schmuck gets stuck with the task, don’t you think? Considering the two of us never even dated…

“I'm going home tomorrow morning,” you said. The sun was setting, and the two of you were walking along the same stretch of beach that you had first met at. “I finished packing all of my things before dinner. It’s surreal, almost. I feel like an entirely different person now, compared to when I came here.”

“Is that so?” he said, the corners of his lips twitching slightly. “I wonder why.”

“Did you just smile?” you said. Immediately, he scowled.

“No way,” he said. “I’d never smile because of something you said.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, you definitely smiled. I made you smile! I made you smile! I made you smile!” you said, poking him in the cheek repeatedly. Sae’s expressions were so subtle that it was easy to overlook them before they had vanished, but there was no overlooking what you had just seen. He had definitely smiled at you, or at least he had been about to.

“Stop poking me,” he grumbled.

“No,” you said, poking him again. “Only if you smile again.”

“Hell no,” he said. You poked his cheek again. “Y/N. Stop it.”

“Will you miss me?” you said.

“Not if you don’t quit that!” he said, grabbing your wrist when you prepared to poke him again. Heat rose to your cheeks at the way his thumb rested against your pulse, and when he realized he was holding your hand so familiarly, his own cheeks flushed. “No. I won’t.”

“I’ll miss you,” you said, digging your feet into the sand, turning out to the sea because you couldn’t stand to look at him when you were being so vulnerable. “I’ll tell everyone I know about you, of course, but it won’t be the same. Something funny will happen, and I’ll think to myself, oh, Sae would’ve snorted at that — but not laughed, because you don’t laugh. Or I’ll order shitty French fries, and it’ll remind me of how much you’d scold me for eating them. You’d say something like, those are basically heart attacks in a box, and then you’d pour a bottle of salted kombucha down my throat to cleanse my system.”

Somewhere in the distance, a seagull squawked, reminding you of the fateful encounter from so long ago. You wished you could go back and get to know Sae all over again. You wished you could ask him the same questions and not know the answers, so that you were surprised when he told them to you. You wished you could argue with him for a little bit longer. You wished that, one more time, you could imply he was short and ugly and slow and a thousand other rude adjectives, even if he was really none of those things, none of them at all.

“I’m going to ask you one last question, okay?” you said. “Please think over your answer carefully. It’s important.”

“Okay,” he said, uncharacteristically gently. “I’ll really consider it well.”

“What’s your favorite animal?” you said.

“Seagulls,” he said immediately, directly contradicting his solemn oath. You laughed at this, burying your face in your hands to hide the hitch in your throat.

“You traitor,” you said. “You know all about the feud between seagulls and I, and yet you’re still claiming they’re your favorites?”

“They always have been,” he said. “I like migratory birds, how they don’t stay in one place but are always moving around. It must be such a blissful life.”

“But it’s probably pretty lonely, too,” you said. “They don’t have anywhere to call home.”

“I like lonely things,” he said. “That’s why the end of the summer is my favorite season.”

“Hm,” you said. “Then, if I tell you that I’ll be lonely once I leave here, will you like me, too?”

He looked at you, but you stared resolutely ahead, your gaze trained on the horizon, the way his had been on the day you had run into him. It was such a kiddish question, and internally, you were beating yourself up for asking it, but deep down, you wanted to know, so you did not move to retract it.

“Well, I like seagulls for a different reason now,” he said.

So that was your answer, then. The waves crashed against the shore, and a balmy wind blew through your hair and clothes, carrying the light scent of Sae’s cologne to your nose, the same one he had worn for as long as you could remember.

“I understand,” you said.

“These days, it’s a specific seagull I’m fond of, actually,” he said.

“Huh? Like a breed or something?” you said.

“No, just one bird in particular,” he said. “It did me a really huge favor recently.”

“What are you talking about? You always say that you suspect I was dropped on the head as a baby, but between the two of us, I think the one that was dropped was you,” you said, the fraying ends of your rejected feelings driving you to irascibility.

“A while ago, I was standing on the beach, feeling pretty annoyed with the world — as usual,” he said. “I had had to run from the paparazzi in order to go on this vacation without being bothered, you know, and I honestly was starting to question if I’d ever be seen as a normal person. I get that the only thing I’m good at is soccer, but it’s pretty tiring to be thought of as a guy who kicks balls around and nothing more.”

Unbidden, you inhaled sharply, because the story was starting to sound familiar. Spinning on your heel, you were met with the sight of Sae smiling shyly, peering down at you through his unfairly long eyelashes.

“That seagull must’ve known how I was feeling. There’s no other explanation for it all. It must’ve known how I was feeling, and somehow, it managed to find the one person in the entire world that saw me as something other than that. Do you know what it did next? It stole that person’s sandwich, and it led her right to me,” he said.

“Are you talking about me?” you said.

“How many people do you think have called me a short, ugly, D-list celebrity instead of asking for my autograph upon meeting me?” he said.

“Probably not very many,” you said. He chuckled.

“Probably not any,” he said. You rested your forehead against his shoulder.

“Probably not,” you said. He stroked your hair, though his motions were like a marionette’s — he was not very used to this type of relationship, after all. But he was trying his best, and you found that to be far more endearing than any suave gestures might’ve been.

“I know you have to go soon, so I was planning on not saying anything,” he said. “What would be the point? I figured this was just a summer fling for you. But then you had to go and be all sentimental, and I had to say something.”

“I’m glad you did,” you said. “It would’ve been worse if I had returned home without knowing at all. Where do we go from here, though?”

“Where do we go from here? Let me think. Well, I’ll ask you to be my girlfriend,” he said. “And you’ll say yes, because who would ever reject me? Then we’ll talk on the phone every day, and you can send me photos of things you find funny, and I’ll have a sixth sense for when you’re eating French fries and I’ll send you strongly worded texts in reprimand. You’ll fly over to watch my matches whenever possible, and when I’m on my next break, I’ll come visit you and meet your family and friends properly.”

“Getting a little presumptuous, aren’t we? What if I say no?” you said.

“Will you?” he said.

“Not sure. How about you ask and find out?” you said.

“If you’re going to say no, then I don’t want to,” he said. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“I can’t be with a man who’s afraid of rejection. It was nice knowing you, Sae,” you said. “See you around. Hope you lose the Champions League.”

“Wait! I’m not afraid of rejection,” he said. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend? Officially, I mean.”

“Yes, of course,” you said. “But you’re going to have to buy my plane tickets if you want me to watch you. Even with frequent flier miles, I doubt I can afford coming to see you that often.”

“Consider it done,” he said. You grinned at him.

“You know, if you’re my boyfriend, then you’re going to have to keep paying for our dates, as well. My mother said that’s the gentlemanly thing for you to do,” you said.

“Right, I was expecting that,” he said. “Don’t you think there’s a reason why I haven’t let you buy anything yet?”

“Then how am I ever supposed to apologize to you for the circumstances of our first meeting? I mean, I was pretty harsh,” you said.

“That’s true,” he said. “Let me think.”

“Mhm,” you said. “I know that that’s out of your comfort zone, so I’ll give you a minute.”

“I have an idea,” he said, though it was accompanied by a slight glare at your jab.

“What is it?” you said.

“Close your eyes,” he said. You obliged, squeezing them shut, though not without widening your feet into the defensive stance he had demonstrated to you on the day he had attempted to teach you basic soccer skills.

“What are you going to do, tackle me or something? I’m using the position you taught me, but please be gentle, you’re way more muscular than—!”

You were cut off by him pressing his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, gentle and light, like feathers in the air or water against the sand, and he pulled away before you could really react or reciprocate. He had left you wanting, and you knew he knew that, because there was a smugness to his voice when he spoke next.

“Apology accepted,” he said as you blinked at him in shock, your mind still lagging well behind your body. “Now we’re even.”

“Hold on,” you said. “I’m suddenly feeling very repentant and remorseful. Are you quite sure you forgive me with just that?”

He laughed. It was such a lovely sound, his laugh, and you would’ve told him so if you weren’t afraid that he’d stop when you pointed it out.

“Maybe not,” he said. “You might have to apologize a bit more.”

“That sounds doable,” you said. “Yeah, I might be able to work that in. It’ll be agonizing, but a wise man once told me that that’s just the nature of apologizing, so it’s the least I can do, right?”

“Oh, shut up,” he said, holding your face in his hands and leaning in. You did the same, your eyes closing all on their own as you sought out the connection he had deprived you of earlier.

As the sun set over the horizon and the seagulls settled in for the night, he kissed you again.

#sae x reader #sae x you #sae x y/n #itoshi sae #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #modern au #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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ruwriteshours · 1 year ago

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CHASING PAVEMENTS (PART I) 𓇼 (P.JS)

✎ PAIRING: park jisung x fem! reader

✎ GENRE: angst, smut, brother's best friend trope

✎ WARNING: !!sexual content!! (minors dni) fwb relationship, jisung is slightly an asshole, reader is naive, ambiguous ending, might do a part two???

✎ SUMMARY: In which jisung's derived thoughts leads him to an unlikely arrangement with chenle's sister, where he fucks up (quite literally) when he realises how deep in the feels he has for the girl he is suppose to show disinterest to, in honour of 'BRO CODE'.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: since a few of you guys voted for jisung fic, here it is! it def took longer than i expected but i hope you like this one! <3

part two

PARK JISUNG HAD NO BOUNDARIES.

A man with desired sexual hormones isn't one to back down on steamy hook-up sessions, especially ones which are deemed promising. However, he didn't exactly knew how to draw the line when he began banging his best friend's sister.

(He thanked the heavens that Chenle had gone out that night to not witness the sinister act.)

But to be fair, the male didn't exactly plan to go black-out drunk at their usual dorm party on that particular Saturday night just to wake up naked with his best friend's sister on his side of the bed.

Especially since it's the same girl who had a thing for the said boy since their childhood, so much so that it was excrutiating for Jisung to watch her poor attempts at making a move on him. Even Chenle was used to it and was completely fine with your lovesick crush for his best friend, from the way you would stutter around the boy or the fact you used to give him flowers every Valentine's day, knowing deep down that your little feelings would fade away eventually.

But now, it's different because it's no longer a one-sided pining from you, rather a completely mutual friends-with-benefits situation. Though, it's far fetch to consider you and Jisung to be friends. He was always disinterested in you and even with this new arrangement, he only seemed content with finding a buddy he could released his pent-up sexual frustations with. Despite this, Jisung wouldn't initiate anything other than sex, making it clear that his intention with you is strictly for his selfish desires. His dirty little secret to be kept from Chenle.

You, on the other hand, couldn't be more happy than to pass up the only opportunity to be closer to Jisung. It was silly for you to expect anything more, but this was better than nothing. Jisung had fuck boy tendecies, it was nearly impossible for you to make him stay committed. However, a part of you was determined to make him fall for you.

No matter how wrong it was, it seemed that both of you can't get enough of each other.

Which is how Jisung ended up in your dorm room on Wednesday night, currently his cock buried deep inside of you as you suppress your moans. His hand digging your inner thighs as he lift you up to get a better angle, half of your body up in the air.

Grunting in frustation, his hair glued to his forehead from the layers of sweat. Rounds and rounds of endless pleasure. You could tell his anger that was built up a moment ago, was slowly dissipitating from the way his thrust begins to slow down, pausing briefly to brush the strands of his hair back. The view making you squeeze around him tighter.

"S-Shit. Do that again." He demanded, his hand coming up to grab onto your tits harshly as he pushed himself further inside you.

Squeezing once again, you made an attempt to wrap your hands around his neck only to have it shoved aside. His hands clutching your wrist to prevent you from touching him.

"I'm close!" You mewled, hip trusting against his as you made an attempt to inch closer towards him— if that was even possible.

"Me too!" He groaned.

With one powerful thrust, the both of you reached the awaiting orgasm. His breath close to your face as you stared into his eyes, entranced with the way he looks. Biting your lips, you lean in for a kiss only to have his warmth ripped away from you. Standing up to get himself dressed, much to your disappointment.

"You're leaving, already." You asked, not wanting to sound too desperate.

The male could only give a brief nod, "Yup, I have to get back before Chenle suspects something's up."

But you knew it was bullshit. Chenle didn't care if his best friend didn't show up to their dorm late at night. It was normal in a college settings. You knew that he was coming up with an excuse to not indulge further and as much as that should give you a blaring warning in your ears, you were still as stubborn as ever.

"Okay! Get back safely." You said cheerily, watching as he quickly buttons up his shirt.

Getting nothing but a hum of acknowledgement as he made his way out of your dorm, not even glancing back.

Laying down on your dishelved bed, you could only have the same feeling of regret wash over you. You wonder why you would let yourself seek love from someone who clearly could not care less about you. It had been four months of never-ending sneaky hook ups and there was still no hope that he was semi into you. You were stupid for thinking like a child.

Perhaps, you could let this go once again.

Again.

WEEK ONE.

Sitting from afar, you watch in subtlety at the disgustingly appaling view from a couple feet away. There stood, Jisung smiling with such admiration towards NingNing, a girl whom he was talking to. Her giggles echoed through the cafeteria as his friends were teasing him from the side. The sight of the sweet interaction made your heart clench, ultimately feeling defeated as you had once again expected too much of Jisung to reciprocate his feelings.

Too indulged in your thoughts, you didn't bother taking notice of the pity looks you were received by your friends. Chaeryeong glared at the audacious boy while Yunjin patted your shoulder comfortingly.

"You should move on." Yunjin mumbled.

"Yeah, you deserve way better." Chaeryeong chimed in.

You could only offer a meek shrug, "It's probably nothing, guys."

But even your own voice couldn't believe the words, knowing well enough that it was hopeless to string onto a thread that was never held onto on the other end.

It was evident from your persistence that you were determined to hold onto the shred of hope that maybe, just maybe it could work. That those years of pinning would be worth it.

"You know the guy from Econ is totally into you." Yunjin spoke up, redirecting the topic.

You perked up but remained an uninterested expression.

"Oh, come on. I'm not asking you to fuck him or anything." She said. "Maybe try get to know him, he's really sweet."

"Are you talking about that guy that helped her carry her stuff to class." Chaeryeong voice raised excitedly.

"Seungmin? He's nice to everyone." You justified, dismissing your friend's exaggerated story.

"But he's more nicer to you." Yunjin rebutted, earning an agreement nod from your red-haired friend.

"And I may or may not have heard him talking to Hyunjin about wanting your number." She added.

You scoffed playfully, "Thanks but no thanks. The last thing I need is another migraine from boys."

That was the end of the conversation. Luckily, your friends didn't push you further, allowing the three of you to eat in peace before the bell rang.

Bidding 'goodbyes' to each other as you parted ways to your assigned schedule. In some twisted way, you were glad that you were sharing this one particular class with Jisung. Both of you having similar major. Feeling the excitement rush through you as you made your way to the class. Students swarming in, looking for seats as you watched around in hopes of spotting the black haired boy.

To your luck, he was seated near the window with an empty seat beside him. In queue, you made a beeline towards his direction, only to have another bag placed itself against the wooden desk. Slightly flinching from the sudden intrusion, you looked up and saw the same girl at the cafeteria. Her sun-kissed face contorted into confusion.

"Oh, did you plan sitting here?" NingNing removed her stuff, "I can mo-"

"No!" Jisung interrupted abruptly, standing up to hold onto her wrist. "Sit here."

You couldn't help but watch with dull eyes as Jisung completely ignored your presence. His eyes gazing onto the girl as both of them shared a look of something that held a cruelly familiarity; a look of mutual liking.

"I-It's okay, I can find another seat." You stuttered, turning around quickly and grab onto a chair that was available and plopping down on it without looking back.

Biting back your tears, you didn't notice that the whole interaction was being observed by your classmate. Some whispered among themselves while others ignored it as if it was some normal occurence. You didn't have shame left to be bothered by their comment.

It wasn't news that your crush for Jisung was evident. Everyone knew, and you didn't bother to hide it because you were happy to admit it. You would broadcast to the whole street for your undying love for the boy and not a glimpse of embarassment would overcome you. However, Jisung would only continue to ignore you, of course, only on the outside. Afterall, it would ruin his pride for the class to know what he did to his best friend's sister behind close doors.

Staring distractedly at your unwritten paper, it was as if today wasn't one of your best when your lecturer had called you out, waiting for your answer.

Gulping nervously as you looked around to see students watching you, wanting nothing more than to burn a hole through the ground.

Just as you were about to utter your response, a hand swiftly moved a piece of paper towards your table, giving you a chance to catch the answer, making you read it aloud.

Your lecturer gave you stern look, as if reprimanding you before moving on to the next portion of the lesson. You sigh in relief, turning your head to the side to thank the person who helped you.

Seungmin chuckled at your flustered state, waving off as if it was nothing. He went back to his notes, scribbling down a couple of words before sliding it back to your desk.

'You okay?'

You smiled and began writing down before handing it back to him discreetly.

'I'm good :)'

He stared at the note for a moment before writting down a couple of sentence. You glanced slightly towards him, not wanting to make it obvious and pretended to focus on the lecture. Not a second later, the same yellow note slid itself towards your desk.

'Good enough to give me your no?'

You giggled silently at his bold flirting before deciding to give him your number. It was harmless, anyways. You thoughtlessly scribbled down. Little did you know, your little interaction didn't went unnoticed by the black-haired boy at the back of the class, who had been glaring holes behind you unknowingly. A sudden vision of green clouded his mind, a feeling that he hated deeply.

Jealously.

Pounding furiously against you as you were pressed up against the door to the janitor's closet. The cleaning tools were left scattered on the floor as he kept pushing himself closer to you, his hands snaking itself around your neck making your hips arched towards his cock.

Jisung moaned deliciously at the contact as he began placing love bites down your throat, slowly turning you around only to hoist you up by the thighs. You gasped at the new position, your legs wrapping around his slim waist, his hand coming to find itself in your hands, trapping you completely.

Just as you were about to release, Jisung completely removed himself away from you. His hands made is way to the zipper of his pants as he tidied himself up, you were left shocked as you watched him crossed his arms, as if waiting expectedly.

"Finish yourself for me. I want to see how you make yourself cum." He demanded, his demeanor not changing even for a moment.

You were hesitant with your moves, which only angered the male above you. Grabbing your wrist as he guided it towards your wet cunt, you maoned at the harsh contact before he lets go. His eyes urging you to continue.

If it was any other day, you would have felt shameful but considering he had denied you pleasure, you were more than eager to finish. Quickening the pace on your fingers as you shoved it deeper, scrunching your face in pure bliss, watching the way Jisung eyes were trained onto yours. His hard-on was evident yet he was more focus on the view in front of him, not bothering to fix his big issue.

Just then, the sense of euphoria came and your hand were painted with the colourless liquid. As you were about to wipe away, his hands held yours, stopping you. Inching his face closer to your cum-covered hands, he stuck out his tongue to lick it clean off. Your eyes widened at his actions, not expecting him to act so scandalous.

Once he was done licking like it was some popsicle, he gargled the remaining liquid and swallowed it down as if it was something tasteful, letting out a content sigh. Without saying a word, he left the room to leave you in a confused mess.

WEEK TWO.

Ever since that incident, you were only fueled by the same feeling in your stomach, the heart-fluttering butterflies aching your vulnerable heart. That had been the most intimate he's been and you were only craving more for his affection which, unbeknownst to you, was only the beginning. His texts were now more engaging and he seemed to want to make time whenever he would get. Despite your friend's disapproval, you were blinded by Jisung's false hope. You had even forgotten about Seungmin, ignoring his message on whether you would be available to hang out. All your mind could think of was Jisung.

Only getting disappointment when he would go back to a cycle of ignoring your existence and talk to NingNing on campus.

Oh well, it's a progress at least.

Though that meant that you were playing a very dangerous game when Chenle began suspecting the marks on your neck that were very prominent. Thankfully, he wasn't one to be nosy, passing off insults before walking off.

"Yo, could you stop staring at Jisung." Your brother snapped you out.

You had conveniently left your keys inside your dorm room and your roommate was not able to come back home as she was visiting her parents, which only gave you the only option to bunk in with your brother and his roommates. You would've slept with your friends, if it weren't for the fact that the both of them hadn't been home as well, making plans with their boyfriends. Luckily though, the boys had been kind enough to set up a room for you, which in exchange, meant that they were all sleeping outside to avoid any awkward circumstances. Hours had passed and you were getting bored with their loud cheering in the living room, struggling to tug yourself to sleep, you decide to observe the commotion.

Even without facing your way, his gaze focused on the video game in front of him, he could sense your unbearing stares for his best friend. Chenle groaned when he lost against Jisung, Mark offering the younger a high-five while Haechan cackled at Chenle's frustatated expression.

"Could you like, not be so weird around my friends." Chenle turned towards you, his friends watching you as you blushed deep red, walking off in a rush.

"Your sister's kinda hot." Haechan spoke up, earning a smack from Mark.

"What! It's the truth. Jisung, you're kinda lucky."

Chenle gagged, "Don't make me throw up. She's a nightmare."

"Well, you're saying that 'cause it's your sister. If any one of us has a hot sister, you would've totally went for it."

"I'm not having this sick conversation." Chenle dramatically declared before making his way to the kitchen, Mark following suit to grab a snack.

"You're lying if you're not in the slightest bit interested." Haechan whispered, taking extra precaution despite being away from their earshot.

"Of course not." The younger denied.

"Sure." Haechan's voice dragged on, indicating that he wasn't convinced. "So you wouldn't be bothered if she was talking to someone else, right."

Haechan provoked, smirking when he noticed that Jisung's hand tightened around the console. Despite his calm appearance, the older knew he was bothered by that thought.

"Less of a headache for me then." Jisung focused his gaze on the screen, not wanting to give Haechan the attention.

The older, of course, didn't like that. "So, if Seungmin were to make a move on her. You would be fine."

"No!" He blurted out.

That was when he could see the older's smugness through the screen, backtracking himself. "I mean— yes, I don't care! Why are you so worked up over this." He accused trying to keep the facade that was already cracked.

"Yeah, like I'm the one with the beet red face." Haechan fired back, finding humour in his reaction, happy that he has successfully got through him. "Dude, you know Chenle would be okay with it, right?"

"Shut up!"

Jisung rolled his eyes before throwing his console towards the older, facing the screen in a attempt to cover up his embarassed face. His heart accelerating from getting caught by a loudmouth like Haechan.

Luckily his embarassment was cut off short when Chenle and Mark came back in with snacks on their hand.

"So, you guys going to Sunwoo's party next Friday." Mark munched on his chips.

The sudden silence as the group checked their schedule.

1:56 am

"Oh, shit! We should probably stop soon."

"Yeah, soon!" Haechan mumbled, too engrossed in his game.

"But you guys are going, right?" Mark confirmed.

Earning a collective hum before the four of them went back to their video game, reminding themselves that it was only one game and that they would go to sleep afterwards.

Newsflash: It wasn't one round of gaming.

Which is why the three of them ended up being knocked up in the couch, Mark's loud snoring annoyed Jisung as he twisted his body back and forth, groaning when he realised he couldn't sleep.

Suddenly, a devious plan came to mind. Removing the blanket off of him, he tip-toed towards the closed door. Luckily, you were still wide awake, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. You perked up when you heard the sound of the door opening, Jisung's head peeking in. Stepping inside, you knew what he was in for...

Morning soon kicked in, rubbing your eyes. You wrapped the blanket around your bare body tightly, looking to the side to find Jisung no longer by your side. Groaning from the slight ache, you made your way to the bathroom, which was thankfully connected to the room, sparing you the intrusion.

All of your classes were in the afternoon, which gave you time to prepare breakfast. It didn't take long for you to find some ingredients, which was thankfully, not expired, knowing how lazy Chenle would get in cleaning up his stuff. The smell of freshly cooked pancakes awakened the boys. Yawning aloud as they sat down, as if awaiting for their meal. You rolled their eyes before setting a stack in front of them.

"Mm, you're the best." Haechan moaned dramatically, taking a bite. Mark humming in agreement.

"Don't you guys brush your teeth?" You asked in disgust, ignoring his compliment.

"We usually brush after."

"Gross."

A noise of protest erupt, which made you laugh. Just as you were about to make another one, in came Jisung. The last to be awake.

"Ji, come try this. She's such a good cook!" Haechan praised.

"It's just pancake." You humbled yourself.

"Yeah, you can chill out. This taste like ass." Chenle called out, which made you glare at your brother.

"Well, give me then!" You held your hand out.

Chenle only took the plate further from your reach, sticking his tongue out in mockery. Annoyed, you grabbed the spatula and whacked him across the face. Mark and Haechan laughed as Chenle began to chase you around, threatening you with a string of profanities escaping his mouth. You retaliated further by shoving him away. The sight of bickering between the siblings made Jisung smile, finding you adorable... wait, what?

"No thanks." He mumbled, quickly changing his mood back before you noticed.

"Oh, by the way, you should check your phone. NingNing's been texting you." Mark informed.

You tensed at the mention of the girl, pausing you actions briefly.

"Oh, right. I'll check it later." He said dismissively.

"So, what's your status with her?" Chenle asked, panting slightly from exhaustion.

You pretended to busy yourself in the sink, tuning in into their conversation without making it obvious.

"I don't know." He replied dryly.

"Oh, come on. She probably likes you, you've been pinning her since, what, last year?" Mark prodded.

You didn't want to hear the rest as you quickly excused yourself, telling them you had to meet your friends. Grabbing your stuff as you dashed out, in a hurry.

"Dude, we totally forgot your sister likes Ji. Oh, she's gonna be crushed." Haechan pointed out, his eyes widened comically as he pointed at the younger.

Chenle was the one to speak up, shrugging, "Who cares? She'll get over it." Chenle patted Jisung's shoulder, "Besides, we should be more worried about helping him ask the hottest chick out."

Jisung awkwardly chuckled.

"Right."

The day passed by unusually fast and Jisung still hasn't gotten a text from you. Don't get him wrong, he hated when you would get too clingy and risk the both of you getting caught but you would have usually been online by the time he opened his messaging app. It was rather impressive that you would be able to know the perfect moment to predict when he would text you. However, this time, Jisung saw that you were active three hours ago. He didn't think too much of it and switched off his phone, redirecting his attention back onto the lecture. Passing by the day as per normal.

Little did he know, that you were sulking on the other side of campus. Chaeryeong and Yunjin sitting on either side of you as you began to overthink.

"I thought we were doing okay." You mumbled, pulling your hair out in frustation.

"It's not you. You know what Jisung is like, you can't blame yourself." Chaeryeong scolded.

Just then, you watched as NingNing made her way towards campus. Her head hung low as she was focused on her phone. You could see her smile brightly, indicating that she was probably texting someone. For some reason you knew exactly who it was from how giddy she was acting. A part of you felt guilty for being selfish.

"Do you guys think I should really move on?" You asked meekly.

The both of them shot you a deadpanned look, as if ridiculing you for asking a dumb question. But the they didn't get to answer when you sat up straight, as if a lightbulb appeared on your head. "You know what?" You stood up, "I am going to move on!"

"Really?" Yunjin asked excitedly, standing up as well.

"Yes! Afterall, he only arranged this ordeal to get over his one sided crush." You waved off.

"What!" Both of them yelled in unison. "Yeah," You shrugged as if it was nothing. "He even moaned the wrong name in bed but that's besides the point."

"And you're only telling us this now?!"

You looked confused, "I thought I told you guys already."

"Uh, no you didn't. You said you guys hooked up accidentally and that's what made him want to do it again." Grabbing your shoulders, shaking them vigorously as if she was trying to wake you up, "You didn't tell us he was blatantly using you as a rebound." Yunjin said in fury, having been shocked by the sudden discovery. Chaeryeong, on the other hand wanted to punch the boy whenever he is on sight now.

"I mean, at least he got what he wanted now." You smiled, "It's totally fine, I should be happy for him."

Your friends looked at you in pity as you try to remain cheerful, not wanting to break down.

"I say we should forget about him completely."

WEEK THREE.

A few days went by and you were out hanging with your friends. Though, it would be a lie to say you weren't tempted when Jisung were to text you. It has been days without your usual sessions but he wouldn't really push the matter further, making you think that he didn't really care. In fact, you swore you saw him walking with NingNing on campus the other day. That thought had lessened the heartbreak and you soon got better at ignoring him completely.

Little did you know that Jisung began to worry about your absence. Growing more annoyed when you refuse to look at him whenever the both of you crossed paths in the hallway, even when you shared the same class, you weren't as eager to sit beside him. In fact, choosing a seat that was far from where he could see you. But in Jisung's classic way of dealing things, he ignored it, thinking that he might be exaggerating and that you were probably busy, opting to wait for you to approach him. Like you've always have.

Which was why you were fine with going to a party with your friends, knowing that if Jisung were there, he wouldn't even make an attempt to be near you.

But boy, were you wrong.

To say you were uncomfortable was an understatement, but to be fair, you hadn't had the best experience with parties. The first time you had gotten black-out drunk that you threw up all over Yunjin (you apologised later on, of course) and was forced to go back home earlier, with a massive hangover the next day. The next couple of times were consists of awkward mingling, considering you weren't one to be social. You vow to never attend a party ever again. Of course, until a few circumstances had changed.

Now, here you are, standing awkwardly while your friends were having the time of their lives. They were quite experience with the whole lifestyle, while you, on the other hand, just watched with a forced smile and they greet other college students. The liquid in the red solo cup was left untouched in your hands.

Walking through the crowds, you had lost your path with your friends, leaving you alone. As you frantically look around you, a hand clasped onto your shoulder. Turning around, you saw a beaming Seungmin.

"Didn't know you'd be here."

"Never really thought this through." You laughed awkwardly, "I didn't know why I bothered coming here."

"Parties are not your thing, huh?" He concluded, grabbing your hand as the both of you went to a more quieter area.

You didn't answer because if was fairly obvious, instead asking him back. He looked away before giving you a cheeky smile, "My friend dragged me here."

"The one making out with that girl." You pointed, watching his blonde-haired friend, Hyunjin, getting handsy.

"Yup. That's him." He scratched his head.

A moment of silence takes place before you decided to speak up, "I'm sorry for ghosting you, by the way."

He perked up, "It's alright."

"No, I'm serious. An asshole move on my part."

"Well, I can't blame you. You seemed pretty smitten with Jisung." He said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Yeah." You admitted, "But I'm over him now, well— in the process of."

He smiled, "Finally finding dignity for yourself, huh?"

"Hey!" You hit his arm, taking an offense at his words.

His laughter fueled in your anger but you soon find humour as you too, laughed along with him. And just like that, you spent the whole party talking to Seungmin.

That view alone made both of you appear to look like a couple, which was harmless. But in Jisung's eyes, it is deemed as a threat. Having had arrived an hour prior to the party, his gaze like a hawk as he eyed the both of you laughing away, ignoring Chenle's ranting.

"What have you been staring at?" Chenle moved his head towards the male, trying to match his view.

Just as Chenle eye's landed on your figure, he hummed in amusement, "Guess she finally got over you."

He joked, patting the male. But Jisung couldn't pick up on his words, not when he was fuming in anger.

Luckily though, Chenle got distracted by Haechan calling out to him, which served as a great escape for him to march towards you.

"You want to go outside?" He heard the voice of the sickening male, Seungmin's hands carressing your arms.

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to take you away.

Which was what happened, because the next thing you could register was a sudden pull on the arm, dragging you away. It happened to quickly that not even Seungmin could utter in protest, which resulted you getting sucked into the mysterious hand. You didn't put up a fight though, knowing deep down the hand that it belongs to.

You sigh, getting tired of Jisung's mixed signals and wanting nothing more than to end the madness once and for all.

He pushed you towards an empty room before making his way in, locking the door while he slammed it shut. His back was turned towards you and you could only let out a grumble of complaint.

"So you dragged me here to give me the silent treatment." You provoked, "If you want to fuck me, just get it done and over with."

He turned around, facing you with eyes you could never read. Jisung was hard to understand and you couldn't figure out what he was thinking at the moment.

"That's not what I want to do."

"Then what is it, surely it isn't to talk. We never talk anyways, we just fuck." You scoffed, "So, try again." You scoffed, taking a step towards him.

He grabbed his hair in frusatation, "I don't know— fuck! I don't know, okay!"

"No! It's not okay because I'm sick of you treating me like a side piece. You got yourself a girlfriend now so why the hell are you still with me!" You yelled out.

"Because I like you too!" He blurted.

You widened your eyes at the sudden confession. "I like you, okay? I always have since we were kids too and I got scared so I tried to get over you by talking to her. I didn't realise how far I have gotten."

You shook your head, "Well, that's the thing. You don't think, you just do. I have made it clear from the start about my feelings but you just use it against me to fuck! You have never liked me so don't you dare fucking lie to me!"

"I'm not lying." He took a step forward, which only made you back away in disgust.

He didn't made an attempt afterwards, his eyes pleading as he watched you shuffle away.

"Well, isn't that a fucking useful information." Your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Fuck me then."

"What."

"You heard me, I said. Fuck. Me."

For the first time, it felt that you had the upper-hand. From the way Jisung seem to be more intimidated by your voice. You wanted him to feel the pain that you felt. Used like how he used you. You wanted to get back at him.

"If you don't, I'll leave."

That seemed to set a fire alarm in his ears because he was quick on his feet. His hand coming up to harshly grip onto your shirt to pull it off. You obliged, moving your hand to his neck to wrap it around his neck. With a quick tug, you pulled Jisung onto the bed, his back landed on the soft matress as you straddled his hips.

He groaned when you hastily reached his zipper, pulling down his cock. which slapped against his stomach in an instant. Veiny and red.

He was about to lean in for a kiss before you covered his lips, pouting slightly at your refusal. A smirk played on your lips as you whispered against his ear. "It doesn't feel nice, does it?"

He was about to utter your name when you began pumping his length harshly, causing him to let out loud moans.

"How pathetic, I haven't even started putting my pussy inside." You mocked.

Sliding your panties to the side, you guided his hardened cock towards your wet slick, quickly slammed your hips against him once it was slid in smoothly. Both of you moan at the contact.

Bouncing against him with such speed, you could only struggle to let out few whimpers as he held tightly onto your hips, urging you to move faster.

You could tell he was nearing from the way his grip tightened. You were sure that it would leave bruises the next day. However, that was the least of your worries as you removed yourself away from him. He groaned in frustation at the sudden loss of contact.

"Why did yo— ah!" He was interrupted when you began sucking him without warning. His noises began to grow increasingly louder, which only made you shove your throat deeper, determined to take him in completely.

He moaned aloud your name in ecstasy, finally being able to release. His load painting your mouth as you swallow it clean.

He was panting from the pure bliss, having had one of the best blow jobs he had ever gotten.

He watched as you began to clean yourself up, slowly putting on your clothes. "Wait— where are you going?" He asked, grabbing your arm to stop you.

"We're done here." You said coldly.

"But—"

"You got what you wanted. I hope you're happy so don't ever contact me again." You began, making your way towards the door.

"Consider this our last session."

And with that, Jisung was left shock. Sitting alone in a stranger's bed as he was left defeated with the fact that you were never going to feel the same way for him again.

He knew he had fucked up. Badly.

©ruwriteshours

#park jisung #park jisung imagines #park jisung smut #park jisung fanfic #jisung smut #nct smut #nct fanfic #nct dream smut #nct dream imagine #nct x reader #jisung x reader #park jisung x reader #park jisung fluff #jisung fluff #nct dream fanfic

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lovings4turn · 10 months ago

Note

i see you opened your request for blurbs! so what abt "you look gorgeous. stunning. jaw-dropping. breathtaking. do you see what i'm trying to get at?" with lestappen x reader? love your writing!! 💕💕

eek this is such a cute prompt !!! thank u for the request n for being so sweet lovely !! had to adapt the prompt just a lil, but hope you like this <3

clothes littered your floor as you dug through your wardrobe in desperate pursuit of an outfit you loved. your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you held back a groan, frustration beginning to build as your search became more frantic.

another race meant another weekend spent in the paddock, showing your unequivocal support for your boyfriends. you loved being in attendance at their races, granted the chance to see them do the thing they were most passionate about and celebrate every achievement alongside them.

but as much as you loved attending the grand prix weekends, you would be lying if you said there wasn't a small amount of pressure looming over your head. dating two of the sports’ most known drivers came with a lot of media attention, and you wanted to look your best in order to feel your best.

currently, you were clad in a pair of deep blue jeans and black top, something you’d found to be simple yet effective every other time you’d worn it. sunglasses were perched precariously on top of your head, more of an accessory than anything else, and you’d opted for comfortable trainers thanks to previous experience of walking around the paddock in incredibly uncomfortable shoes.

yet for some reason, this time the outfit you’d loved many times before didn’t feel like enough. though, you didn’t know what ‘enough’ was in this context anymore. being overdressed wasn’t at all necessary, and you’d seen plenty of the other girlfriends wear outfits similar to yours just the other day.

before you could turn your entire wardrobe upside down, the sound of footsteps beckoned your head to turn towards the doorframe.

charles was fiddling around with his watch whilst max was frantically typing on his phone, likely shooting off a text to someone to verify what time he’d be arriving at the track. when he looked up and sensed the distress on your face, a small frown settled onto his lips.

“are you okay? we were just seeing if you’re ready to leave.”

“i don’t know,” you admitted with a shrug. “i feel like i look stupid.”

the words felt childish as they left your mouth, but there was no taking them back. slight shame burned underneath your skin, and you opened your mouth to try and smooth over the situation but were interrupted by sounds of confusion.

in any other situation, the matching expressions of shock on your boyfriends’ faces would be comical, but you were currently in no mood to laugh.

"are you kidding?" max asked, jaw slightly dropped in disbelief. "you look gorgeous."

"stunning," charles added, tone matter of fact. green eyes lazily ran up and down your figure for the full effect, before he spoke again. "jaw-dropping."

"breathtaking. do you see what we're trying to get at, liefje?" max asked, his words bordering on teasing despite the serious expression on his face.

gratitude swelled in your chest, and your heart thrummed against your ribcage in an effort to break free and leap into their hands. it seemed that max and charles were gifted with the ability of cheering you up no matter what was wrong, and you’d never be able to find the words to thank them properly.

so, you simply nodded and moved to press a kiss to charles’ cheek, before turning on your heel and pressing your lips to max’s skin, too.

“let’s go then, loves. you two have some trophies to win.”

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen blurb #lestappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc x you #max verstappen x you #lestappen x you #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x you #formula one x you

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wintersoldiersoul · 6 months ago

Text

Drowning

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this one but I'm currently going through this situation with my boyfriend and I thought that writing about it might help me feel better. Haven't gotten to the part where I talk to him about it but maybe this will inspire me.

It was late. Too late. You should be sleeping but it was impossible with your mind racing. You and Bucky had been together for almost a year now but you never really felt secure in your relationship with him. Maybe it was the way that your last boyfriend had broken up with you out of nowhere. You wish you knew why, but you always felt like Bucky was going to run.

As much as you loved him, you also wanted more from him. More reassurance. More romance. More small gestures to show you that he cared. And you couldn’t blame him for not giving them to you when you hadn’t asked but as much as you preached the importance of communication to your friends, you were a hypocrite. You could never apply that to your own relationship.

Everytime you tried to express your feelings, you couldn’t do it. What if I’m right? What if I tell him that I’m afraid he’s gonna leave and he finally takes it as his chance to do so? You would think. Or what if I plant the idea in his head?

All of this was made harder by the fact that you were younger than him. While he was established with a career, living on his own, you had just graduated college and were back living with your parents. Finding a job felt nearly impossible despite the countless resumes and cover letters that you sent out every single day. Your brain constantly flashed back to a conversation you had in May, where you asked him if you would stay together when you moved back home. Your hometown was less than an hour from where Bucky lived in Brooklyn, so in your mind it was a no brainer. But when your question opened up a conversation that blindsided you.

Bucky explained that he was ready to be settled down. You were shocked when he had said the words, “Sometimes it feels like we have an expiration date.”

The next morning he said he was being ridiculous. That he loved you and of course the two of you would figure it out. But ever since then, you hadn’t been able to relax. Even now, a month into you living back at home you still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to change his mind. You saw him just as often as you had when you were still living in the city. You didn’t mind taking the train to go see him 3 or 4 times a week. But the stress and anxiety was weighing on you. Combined with adjusting to post-grad life, you were not doing well.

You had never felt so lonely in your life. All of your college friends had also moved back to their hometowns while most of your friends from high school were still dispersed around the country. The job search left you feeling defeated every single day. And the lack of things to do and structure made life feel meaningless. It was safe to say that you had hit a low point.

But you wanted to hide it all from Bucky. Because what if you brought up how hard it was to find a job and he realized that this wasn’t going to work? What if you told him how lonely you were and he was offended that he wasn’t enough? He knew that you struggled with anxiety and he was no stranger to mental health issues of his own but you just found it impossible to open up to him about all of this.

So there you were, in the midst of another sleepless night overthinking everything. Laptop opened, frantically searching on LinkedIn for jobs in the hopes that one thing just might work out. You read back your text messages from the past few days. Does he seem distant, or is my stupid brain playing tricks on me? As your spiral continued, you could feel a panic attack brewing. You tried your best to focus on your breathing but it became impossible. You just wanted to talk to Bucky. You needed to talk to Bucky.

Fuck it, you thought. Losing him would be horrible, but so is living in this fear. Through your tears and shaking hands, you typed a message.

Y/N: Are you awake?

You shook your legs and bit your nails as you stared at the screen waiting for those three dots to show up.

Bucky: Yeah.

You took a deep breath as you sent the next message, trying to not go crazy over the dry single word he had responded with.

Y/N: Can I call you?

You desperately wished you could be with him right now to have this conversation. To analyze his body language in person. But you weren’t with him and you wouldn’t see him til the end of the week and you needed to get this out. Now.

Bucky: It’s late. I’m trying to get some sleep.

You knew work had been kicking his ass lately. He was putting in insane hours, usually waking up at 6 and not finishing up til midnight. You knew he needed to rest and you almost responded back saying nevermind, and goodnight. But no. You needed to be a little selfish or you would crumble. Tonight felt like a turning point. Or a breaking point.

Y/N: Please Bucky. I really need to talk to you.

Bucky: Ok

Pressing dial on his name, you felt your heart rate increase even more. You tried to take deep breaths to calm your tears but it didn’t help. You were practically sobbing by the time he answered the call. “Bucky…” you said into the phone.

At hearing your voice, Bucky was alert. He could tell that something was wrong. You had never cried in front of him. “Y/N? Baby, what's wrong? What's going on?” His desire for sleep was completely gone. All he cared about was you. He knew that he wasn’t the best boyfriend. He knew he could treat you better. But the years of trauma he had experienced made it hard for him to be vulnerable with anyone. He loved you so much that it hurt him and he hated himself that he couldn’t fully give himself to you.

“Bucky, I’m not okay. I’m really really not okay,” you practically hyperventilated. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t keep living like this. I can’t.”

“Shhh, can you take some deep breaths for me?” He said calmly. “I need you to calm down and tell me what's going on.” He listened quietly as he heard you breathe deeply.

“Bucky, I’m terrified,” you finally spoke after a couple of minutes. “I don’t feel secure in our relationship. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells constantly because I’m petrified that you’re gonna leave. That one day you’re just gonna decide that you’re done with me because I’m too young and I live with my parents and I don’t have a job. And trying to find a job has really been taking a toll on me. I’m trying so fucking hard but it feels impossible. It’s so defeating waking up every single day to an email inbox full of rejections and I feel worthless and stupid. I’m not doing well not being in college anymore. I don’t have any structure to my days and life feels really fucking pointless right now. I’m so lonely. Fuck, I’m so lonely, Buck.” You took a pause, bracing yourself for his response.

“Baby, why haven’t you brought this up sooner? Why haven’t you told me any of this?” There was genuine shock in his voice.

“Because!” You cried. “I don’t want to remind you about how hard it is to find a job right now. I don’t want you to think about the fact that I live with my parents now while you have your own independent life. I never want to remind you of it because I don’t want you to change your mind and leave. And I don’t want you to think that you’re not enough for me because I’m lonely. I love you so much but I just… I really fucking miss my friends.”

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me. Like, really listen to me. I am well aware of your situation. I know it’s hard to find a job right now. I’m not gonna leave you, okay? I’m committed to this. To you.”

You sniffled. “But you said that you wanted to be settled down. That we might have an expiration date.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry for that. I never should have said those things. When we had that conversation I was tired and not thinking clearly. And I spent that whole night wide awake thinking about how stupid I was and how stupid I would be to let you go because you need some time to find your footing after college. I hate that those words affected you so much. I’m so sorry.”

You talked to him for a while longer, pouring out all of your insecurities that you’d been holding back. After a while, the conversation started to shift to more normal things.

“Baby,” Bucky yawned. “I love you so much but I gotta go to bed. And tomorrow after work I’ll come see you, okay?”

“Okay. I love you too.”

Your worries wouldn’t fade overnight. You wouldn’t suddenly be able to get a job. Your friends wouldn’t all come back to you. College was over and life was drastically different. But at least now Bucky knew. And he wasn’t going to leave.

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bedoballoons · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, could i request a Jealous! Lyney who has yet to confess to reader who receives gifts and letters during valentines day?

Awwwe valentines day!! One of my favourites because it's so lovely! Thank you so much for your request and I hope you enjoy <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Valentines from all but him~༺}

CW: Lyney gets jealous! Confessions and reader is well liked by many!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

You stood there in shock as the mailbox spilled its contents onto the ground, absolutely overflowing with candies, love letters and even a rose...which was more like a group of random petals after being crushed by everything else. By the looks of it you had probably received almost thirty confessions...maybe more and you took care picking each one up, even the petals despite the fact you'd most likely wouldn't reciprocate their feelings. The least you could do was be kind about it.

Meanwhile, Lyney stood next to you...doing his best to keep face while you smiled at all the cutesy letters and blushed at all of the gifts you'd received. If only he could have confessed before valentine's day...then you wouldn't have received any letters at all because the two of you would be dating, or at least he hoped you'd be dating. Currently he was just your friend, a friend who was so desperately in love with you that he got jealous from little love notes. "My you've sure got a lot of confessions, are you...interested in anyone in particular?"

You set all the mailboxes contents in your bag carefully and smiled at Lyney, if only he knew you were holding out hope that he might like you they do..."Oh, well I suppose there is one guy I like alot...." You blushed slightly, wondering if maybe it was a bit to forward...or maybe not forward enough?

"Who?" Lyney felt a little sick upon hearing you liked someone, it was like his chances were getting slimmer with every second, at least if he knew he could compare himself and see if he could win you over...maybe he could show you some of his prototype magic tricks he'd never shown anyone else or rearrange the stars, he knew whoever you liked couldn't possibly do that.

"I cant tell you that!" You panicked, you couldn't let him find out you liked him, it could ruin your friendship...and you'd loose one of the most incredible people you'd ever met. "I mean...sorry I'm just not ready to share that yet. I really want to know he likes me back first..."

Lyney bit his lip, this was truly a dilemma...you liked someone and he didn't know who, he had a confession all ready for you, but he didn't want to upset you by being to forward...but he also didn't want to never try, then his eyes meeting yours for a moment and he just...couldn't let someone else have you, "Please, don't hesitate to tell me no...but I...I have a gift for you as well."

"What?" You felt your heart skip a beat, the world was suddenly spinning...you had dreamt of this and yet it didn't feel real, no you should stay calm, what if it was a platonic gift, but then again who gives platonic gifts on valentine's day?! You felt like you could explode...

Lyney reached into his pocket and pulled out paper butterflies that flew all around you... sprinkling heart confetti everywhere until the biggest of them landed in your hands... unfolding to reveal a letter...

To my dearest,

I must admit...I've written this letter at least a hundred times and I've just never had the confidence to give you it till now...I know, hows that possible when you're able to put on shows in front of thousands of people and put yourself in crazy situations that could have dire consequences...

Well none of those things terrify me as much as the idea of loosing you as a friend...but keeping my feelings to myself...I can't do it anymore. Maybe this is selfish of me...maybe you won't want to ever speak to me again..but I'm hoping I can convince you...to feel the same...

In truth, I've loved you for so long that I don't know if I could ever truly not love you now, you're everything I could ever want and so much more. So beautiful...that even now as I write this I'm having to stop myself from getting lost in my thoughts about you...

I could go on forever, but this letter has already gotten rather long so...I'll just say what I've been meaning to..

I love you.

-Lyney

You'd never read anything like it, nothing had ever come close to having so many feelings behind written words and you had to reread it a few times to actually make yourself believe it was really for you...that Lyney had really written it. "Lyney...I don't even...know what to say. I don't think I've ever felt anything close to this before..."

"It's perfectly fine if you don't accept-"

You cut him off with a hug, tears rolling down your cheeks from all the wonderful emotions you just couldn't control..."I do accept! I accept your feelings with all my heart Lyney, archons I love you so much, i-im so happy!"

He didn't know how to respond to such good news...so he just hugged you back, letting what you had just said sink in. This was...everything he had wished! "I love you too"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #lyney genshin #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyneyfluff #lyneyhcs #lyney headcanons

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melithril · 3 months ago

Text

[Adar] Never Again

♫ - It Will Be Me - Melissa Ethiridge

A/N: For @marciamolitor13 on AO3. This is quite angsty and a bit long, but I hope its worth reading! Enjoy! <3

Every day began to feel the same. The same four walls, the same footsteps outside his cell. The same view of the wall before him, everything unchanging. The damp wood smell was not the most pleasurable of smells, either. His current circumstance was also less than desirable, but Adar's will was much stronger than the elves had perhaps anticipated.

They interrogated him every day, and every day he gave the same answer. They asked of Sauron's whereabouts, he would reply with ignorance. The torture grew each time, but so did his willpower. The elves would not believe him, but he was not lying.

Adar simply did not know where Sauron was.

In truth, Adar did not know why he was here in any aspect. It wasn't him that the elves were after. It was Sauron, he was the one they needed. But would they listen? No, they would not. The elves believed if they kept Adar and tortured him, that he would either tell them what they wanted to know, or Sauron would show up and save him.

What they had failed to realise, however, is that Adar and Sauron were far from friends. Even on his best day, Sauron would not save Adar from anything. Despite all of his protests to the elves about this very thing, they chose to turn a blind eye,believing entirely in their cause. Adar pitied them, more for wasting their own time than his situation.

There were things the uruk was missing about not being chained up like a dog. Fresh air, fresh food, the ability to walk more than five feet without metal binding him to a post. But, more than anything in the world, he missed you. Your scent, your arms, the soft kisses you pressed against his skin. Adar missed your beauty, the light you radiated in his dark world.

Now, he thought back to the first time you had met.

You had come to him in his hour of greatest need. He was alone, having suffered already at the hands of Melkor. You had found the uruk in the woods, quite wounded and leaning against a tree. Something compelled you to help him, and you were a skilled healer. You gave him some herbs from your satchel, and made sure his wounds were bleeding no more. Grateful, Adar allowed a small moment of vulnerability and let his eyes close. He was shocked to find you still sat with him against the tree many hours later.

"Hello," your voice was soft, like music to his ears. "I am glad to see you well."

"Why did you help me? We have not met, I could have been anyone."

"You still are anyone, elf with no name," you played, brushing a stray hair from his face. "I am a healer, it is what I do best. I could not just leave you here to die."

Adar simply stared at you, in awe of the kindness you had shown him. He wasn't used to someone being so gentle, without even knowing so much as his name. Still a little weak, he used up some of his energy and took your hand, graciously squeezing it.

"Thank you, stranger."

"You are most welcome, stranger."

Adar had joined you back at your home, a small hut in the middle of the forest. You offered him your bathroom to clean up, and clothed him in fresh linens you had lying around, albeit they were semi-ill fitting. After he had returned from the bath, he found a table of food and drink before him.

"You look fresh, you must feel it," you smiled, calm and welcoming. "Come, sit and eat, you most certainly need it."

Silently, Adar sat across from you and began to eat, feeling guilty for putting such a burden on you. His eyes had not met yours since he had sat down, a sign to you that he was nervous. You stood, kneeling down before him. Taking one of his scarred hands into your own, the uruk's eyes finally landed on your own, as you looked up to him.

"You need not fear anything here, mellon, you are safe inside these walls. I promise you, I will keep you safe as long as you need."

Adar went to sleep that night for the first time in so long, warm and comforted and with a sense of belonging. The last thing he thought of with his newly unclouded mind was that he never did tell you his name.

Commotion outside his cell brought Adar from his thoughts, though it didn't seem too loud. The feint sound of metal hitting the stone floors suggested to him, as a man who had heard his fair share of it, that it was armour and men inside it. Wondering just what had happened, Adar's head snapped to his door, eyeing the shadow that now had arisen on the wall just outside. A trip and curse from an all too familiar voice made his head spin.

Keys were inserted in the door keeping him trapped in the cold, stone walls, and as the iron bars swung open, your form appeared from around the corner.

"Adar!" you whispered, but with urgency behind your voice. You ran to him, though you did not throw yourself into his arms in case he had any injuries. He most certainly did, and the extent of which you were not expecting. "Oh Adar, what have they done to you?"

"Shh," he cooed, pulling you onto him, ignoring every searing pain that ran through him. "You came for me? Why would you risk your life like that, you could have been killed."

Adar's voice was raspier than normal, and you knew he had not been fed or watered properly in so long. You opened your flask, allowing him to drink. You stroked the side of his face, placing your forehead against his own once he was finished.

"I would not so easily abandon you, my love. I always said I would protect you, and I will keep to that word. I may be a healer, but I can also kill, too. They have harmed the man I love, and so they suffered the consequences. I am sure the elves will not take too kindly to their dead soldiers, perhaps we can make haste. Can you stand?"

"I can," he muffled out, as you helped him up and undid his shackles. Before you could do anything else, once he was free Adar's arms encased you, and he kissed you with a needy passion. You entangled your hands into his brown locks and kissed him back, stopping him from stumbling over.

"Come, Adar, I have a horse waiting. It is dark enough outside that we can escape undetected."

With that, you left, supporting Adar's weight as you went. You heard a chuckle come form your lover, and you looked up to question what was so funny to him.

"I find it humourous that you told me that the darkness would be the reason we were safe to escape, and not twelve dead elves that were at my guard."

You smiled, shrugging your shoulders. "Well, the darkness helps, no?"

Adar laughed again, a beautiful sound to your ears, as you made your ways across the field between you and the horse. Helping your injured lover up, you rode into the forest and headed for home. It did not take long, as your steed was among the fastest in the land. Perhaps two hours had passed and you were at your door.

The ride home had been silent, and you knew the experiences Adar had inside that prison would have taken its toll on him. You allowed him to sit, and fetched him some water and food. Gratefully, he began to eat. You headed to the bathroom and ran him a hot bath.

"Starlight," Adar spoke, beckoning you forward to him. You were pulled swiftly onto his lap, where he held you by the waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Silently, you held him. You knew that what he endured with the elves would have reminded him of his past, and for that you would not pressure him to speak. Instead, you whispered to him words of comfort.

"My love," your lips by his ear as you placed a kiss on his temple. "You are safe again. I told you when you first arrived here as a stranger that no harm will come to you in these walls. That remains true. I have you, and I will always protect you. There is nothing in this world I would fear enough to not follow through with my promise. You are my light, my love, and never again will I let you suffer in this life."

Tears fell from Adar's eyes in a moment of complete emotion, and you felt them race along your skin. Gently, you tilted his chin up to look at you, cupping his face with your hand and smiling softly. Your lips met his, pausing to give him time to reject. But, he closed the gap instead and rested his hand on the back of your neck. The kiss lasted for what felt like forever for him, and he pulled away to marvel at you sat before him. Taking the opportunity, you traced his features with your fingers and spoke.

"I love you, Adar. More than you could ever know, but I hope you feel it every day. Now come, let us bathe and rest, and as the sun rises tomorrow we can make this a thing of the past."

You would never know just how much your words meant to Adar. To have someone who cared so fiercely made his heart warm. To him, you were everything. He had found a new lease on life loving you, and vowed to love you to the end of his days and with everything he had left in his heart.

#rings of power #adar imagine #adar #rings of power x reader #rings of power imagine #adar one shot #one shot #adar x reader #x reader #imagine

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sscieloz · 6 months ago

Text

Mystery of Love

Hirai Momo x Member!reader

Synopsis: the group’s comeback is approaching. There’s a full day of shootings waiting ahead of you. You should rest, but you can’t sleep.

Warnings: hurt/comfort. reader talks about her feelings.

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: I AM STILL HERE ! not my best, but still ^^

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4 | Pt.5 | Pt.6

—

Sometimes your thoughts were so loud inside your head you were sure everyone could hear them too.

They were constant reminders of how everything was wrong in your life. The way you dealt with your loved ones, your daily routine, the way your brain worked, the words you chose to use in a conversation… everything was just deeply wrong. It was a constant reminder of how much you managed to mess up by just existing.

You could feel the familiar feeling starting to cripple your skin, followed by a million needles poking you at the same time. Yet, you knew that no matter how much you scrubbed, scratched, and hurt yourself, such feelings would never disappear.

Said knowledge doesn’t keep you from running your nails all over your arms and abdomen, of course. At least the burning sensation was a vivid reminder that you was still hanging on. You were still alive; in Seoul, at the dorms, existing. You were not a ghost, and there was still hope.

Like a mantra, you whispered the words in the dark, running your hands through your face to calm yourself down. The pressure worked, but that uneasy feeling still lingered, guilt-tripping your guts.

It’s been nearly six months since the episode, shouldn’t you feel any better already? You’ve been following your diet religiously, attending therapy twice a week, and working on reaching out whenever you felt one of your crises coming up— yet it seemed like it was all in vain. Despite all of your efforts, you still felt so wrong.

How scary is it, to know that the anxiety was carved deep in your bones as part of who you were?

Terrifying, indeed.

You’ve done a great job convincing the girls of your progress, reassuring them there was no need to push their first comeback of the year. You told them it was fine to attend photoshoots, rehearsals, mv shootings, and go through promotions without fuss.

Which was the truth, in a way. The staff were always kind and understanding to you, kind as they encouraged you to take short breaks after every hour or so. You felt seen, along with the strength and protection your unnies provided.

However, going to any pre-recorded events was still something scary. Especially one as important as Music Bank, where Onces would be ogling you with such attentive eyes. Not judging, naturally, but staring with their eyes full of hope… you couldn’t disappoint them, either. Not your fans, who loved you unconditionally, and your sisters, who have been nothing but patient and protective throughout these last months. They’ve done so much for you, who had nothing to give in return.

Naturally, the girls would understand if you chose to be absent. They’ve told you so repeatedly, reassuring situation is completely understandable and that it’s incredible that you’re even participating in the comeback, but you know how much it hurts them to not be complete as a group. Without you, something is missing, even if it’s hard to understand what you could possibly add to these women, who already have everything.

Joining them in their comeback was an honor, and you wouldn’t skip it for anything in the world. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do to have your unnies happy.

The van will pick you up in the morning, so they’re all currently resting. And you’re exhausted— crushingly so, which is an easy thing to notice with no more than a quick look. Your new sleeping pills did not make the bags under your eyes go away, and you’re still bony, a shallow of the smiley, reserved maknae you once were.

Once again, your breaths grow rapidly, the pitch-black ceiling getting smaller with each passing minute, shrinking enough to trap your body inside the walls of your bedroom. You try to control your breathing by taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, just like your unnies usually do. Your apartment is too high up to hear the whistle of the trees or the noise of crickets, but somehow the stars in quiet night are enough. Those same stars, shining so bright in the late hours, remind you so much of the girls whom you share a home and a life with— your most loved ones, your soulmates. Let us in, Y/n, please. Let us help. they begged you, so loud in their silence. It pained them to give you space, as you’re well aware. If they could, they’d just wrap you up in a bubble and protect you from any sorrows.

If only they could.

You’re not alone. You don’t have to struggle by yourself. You can come to us.

With that in mind, you drop your covers and leave your bedroom, walking to the corridor in quiet, unhurried steps. It’s only once you reach the third room on the left that your long, delicate fingers brush the door, with barely any force. It opens easily, thanks to their no-locking policy, and you observe the room for a moment before settling in.

Momo and Nayeon share a bedroom, just like old times. The room is vast— big enough for two queen-sized beds, and visibly messy. Clothes hang everywhere, either on the ground or left in a pile in some of the open drawers. You squint your eyes to adjust yourself to the darkness and notices the nail supplies cluttered on their tea table. Letters, legos, stuffed animals… so many objects that make you nearly lose balance many times, as you make your way to a pitch-black dot lost amidst the thick covers of Momo’s fluffy bed.

You don’t mind, though. If anything, you find yourself giggling quietly, amused by how the pair had turned the bland room into a home within a few weeks.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for the members to accustomed to living together once again. It had been years since they’d decided to live apart, but your episode had made them make the decision almost immediately. You needed them, so they’d be there for you 24/7, guarding and offering their best support. Sure, your new apartment was much more luxurious and spacious than any of their old dorms, but it was just as cozy and filled with love.

And you needed that. You didn’t think so, naturally— fiercely advocating against their decision, terrified of making your bandmates change their lifestyle because of yourself, but they gave you no choice. In fact, you felt much like a baby as they moved things over and over, sitting down on the big couch while they did all the boring and hard work.

It was nice to have the house noisy again, you noted. After so many years of living by yourself, you discovered you liked a little bit of chaos, especially those that came from your loved ones. You needed that. Once again, your unnies proved that they knew you best.

You moved carefully to not wake Momo up, even though the dancer sleeps like a rock. Lifting the covers, you lowered your body until you were lying down in your unnie’s bed, staring at the older woman’s soft features.

Momo was perfect in every way, and she was so _strong_, too. Not only with her toned muscles, she was a true pillar, taking care of her members so subtly they barely noticed. They were all drawn to her when things got rough. With her sleepish smile and round eyes, her easy laugh was like a beacon on a heavy storm. Talking to her was not only easy, it felt so freeing. You would always forget about your troubles for a few minutes, whenever they were together.

Without even noticing, your eyes start to water—you were so loved, and what for? What have you done to deserve such a honorable feeling? It’s hard to suppress your hiccups as tears start to water Momo’s pillow. Then, almost instinctively, Momo’s arms are around you, holding and bringing you closer until your noses are nearly touching.

You focus on Momo’s eyes, which are still only half-open, and on the sounds she makes, purring as she tries to shake the sleep from her body so she can stay awake. Her hand goes to your hair immediately, fingers running through your scalp in circles. The delicate movements of Momo’s fingers differ from your usual clumsiness, but it’s so soothing that you calm down immediately.

“Can’t sleep, baby?” You shake your head at the sound of her raspy voice, with trembling lips. Momo knows the crying will soon get worse if she doesn’t do anything, so she holds you closer, her grip extra strong, “No no, don’t cry. It’s okay, you’re okay… we’ll help you.”

It’s a routine you’re used to, by now. At first, it made Momo nervous to see you in such agony, sobbing so hard you choked over nothing, desperate for air. Then, Mina explained to her that it was a way of releasing the heavy feelings you kept bottled up for so long, which put Momo’s nerves a little bit at ease. Still, it broke her heart to see you hurting. Her sweet little maknae, who’s always been so, graceful, and quiet…

Yet, Momo couldn’t do anything to take all this pain from your chest. She’d take it all in a blink, were that possible. She’d take all of your sorrows and keep them to herself.

Instead, Momo brushes the wet strands of your hair away from your face, greeting you with a sleepy smile. “Hello, baby girl. Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

Your nod is so subtle Momo finds herself brushing her eyes, wondering if she’d imagined it. There’s a big pause, and the dancer starts to drool as she fights sleep to listen.

“I…” You speak, and it’s like you’re a trainee all over again: small and anxious and so filled with doubts all you want to do is curl up and disappear forever. You gulp hard to suppress another sob. “I c-an’t do it, unnie. Music bank, tomorrow. I can’t. It’s just, there will be so many people and so many cameras and the fans don’t know I’m weak, and if I fuck the group’s image once again we’ll never be invited to anything ever and it’s going to be all my fucking faul—"

You bury your head in Momo’s chest, unable to look at the dancer as you open up your fresh wounds. It hurts to know the amount of hate and backlash they group has gotten because of your scandal. You still didn’t even know who leaked your hospital chart, but JYP did a good work of putting it all under the carpet. And to make all of the denying real, you had to look put together to the public.

You don’t remember the last time you looked like anything but a crystal piece of art, full of cracks and ready to shatter into a million pieces.

Lithe fingers touch your skin once again, moving without rush to not startle or overwhelm you. Momo knows what you need: her presence alone is already so comforting. You get a glimpse of her short, black nails as the older girl runs them over your arms, then your torso.

“Do you want to try mirroring my breathing, baby? You always do it so well.” She asks and you nod immediately. With your face against Momo’s chest, you follow the rhythm of your unnie’s heartbeats, focusing on that alone. “That’s it, dear. Good Job.”

Everything is suddenly pitch black: there’s only Momo’s loving embrace and the way your bodies are naturally tangled, so close to each other that two become one and your sorrows slowly dissipate amidst the warmth. Love does heal, you’re proof of that. You know so because, even if your progress isn’t nearly as you’d envisioned it, it’s still there. You’re slowly working to recovery, no matter how much your stubborn self denies it. And it’s much due to their help: your bandmates, your loves.

Momo’s thumbs brush your cheeks, washing your tears away as the minutes turn your crying into faint sniffles. “You’ve been so brave, Y/n. I’m serious. All the effort you’ve been pouring into our new comeback… it’s impressive. But please, please know you don’t have to do anything you don’t feel ready to do. We can wait, baby.”

And you knows they won’t pressure you by any means. Although sometimes, you wish they did.

“I know, it’s just…” You sigh, untangling yourself from Momo so you can press your elbows onto the bed and run your hands all over your face, huffing with frustration. “I want to do it, unnie. I really do. I just don’t want to break in front of everyone and destroy our group’s image.”

I don’t want to disappoint you again.

That’s what it was. Frustrating and tiring, to feel so unsure over something you’ve done a thousand times before.

“Y/n, look at me.” The dancer’s tone is imposing, so commanding you have no choice but to oblige immediately. “You’re the strongest person I know, and I admire you so much. We see you trying every day, baby, and it’s where we find our strength, too,” She adds, just as quietly, “On seeing you try. It makes me— makes us try to be better every day, too. For you. We love you, so much. And if it’s what you want to do, we’ll be with you every second of it.”

How could you inspire them? It doesn’t seem possible. Not when you’re so weak, vulnerable and a complete mess. Your unnies are all so graceful and certainly much better at everything they do. You don’t understand Momo’s words, but it’s late, and you’re too tired to ask. So you simply nod, trying hard not to pout.

It’s a different kind of sadness, one of not being able to give what your unnies so desperately want. The hopelessness is carved so deep in your bones you can’t do anything but sigh, shuffle, and turn until you’re staring at the ceiling and your hands are hidden under the covers, so Momo doesn’t notice how much they tremble.

“You can’t give me what I need.” You can’t fix what’s broken inside. You want to scream. I think I can’t, either.

“I can’t. I’m sorry for that.” She stops, staring down at you. Her dark orbs are filled with nothing but the purest form of love as she kisses your forehead and whispers, because it’s just the two of you together and the night is quiet, ever so private. “But I can love you.”

Those same loving arms evolve you again, and no more words are spoken. You don’t need to say anything else— no words suffice, not in any language. For now, Momo and you grow content falling asleep together, soothed by each other’s breathing and the promise of taking one step at a time.

In Momo’s arms, you feel safe, respected, and loved. You fall asleep thinking you might be able to go through all of this, as long as you’re together.

#s.writes #twice angst #momo angst #hirai momo x fem!reader #hirai momo x reader #kpop angst #hirai momo x y/n #twice x y/n #twice x you #twice x reader #twice imagines #sol writes

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standfucker · 1 year ago

Text

Breathe Me In

Character: Smoker

Reader: Cis Fem

Word Count: 7.4k

CW: minor injury and first aid (not graphic but stitches are mentioned), explicit N.SFW content, breathplay, inappropriate use of devil fruit powers, hair pulling, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding, creampie, mentions of hypothetical pregnancy

Summary: As a woman in the Marines, the path to Read Admiral has been rough, but Smoker's been there for you since the beginning.

Ao3 Link

🎉🎉🎉🎉HAPPY BIRTHDAY @zoros-sheath !!!🎉🎉🎉🎉 Hope the 2.5 days of anticipation weren't too rough on you. Good job! You did it! You waited and here it is! Sweet n' spicy and served hot just for you! <3 I love you!

“Deep breath,” Smoker says, low voice unusually gentle.

You do as instructed, anticipation curling in your gut. On the exhale, he pours the disinfectant over the wound on your arm, and your breath turns into a hiss.

“I know,” he says. “Sorry, kid.”

“We’re the same age,” you say automatically, as you always do. Not that it’s ever stopped him, he’s been teasing you with that ever since he learned he was seven months older. “And you don’t need to apologize.”

You can handle a little pain. As a Rear Admiral, this is far from your first rodeo, but you always stay mindful of how you’re appearing to your unit. None of them are in the tent at the moment, though, nor is Smoker one of yours–ranking a spot above you, the Vice Admiral led his own team–but habits were habits.

Both of your units had been assigned to the same mission, which was always a delight. You and Smoker had gone through basic training together and started out in the same unit, but didn’t get to see each other as often once you'd both advanced to the higher ranks. You used to hate how he always seemed to be just a step ahead career-wise. You would advance to his level, share a few months to a year at the same rank, and then he would ultimately earn a promotion, leaving you with the dispiriting sense of being second-best. He had even been in charge of you at one point when he was made Captain of your unit. But despite that, you’d have never made it this far without him in the first place, his competence and strength a point of burning motivation for you.

“Not the same age,” Smoker mutters, the childish banter his attempt to distract you. “I’m thirty-six and a half.”

Since the beginning, there had always been a charged undercurrent to your rivalry. You felt it when you sparred, you felt it when you half-jeered, half encouraged each other during grueling physical fitness tests. You felt it when you ate together, and when you reached down to tap your shared bunk frame at lights-out. You felt it most when, every night, without fail, you’d hear a return tap. Each of you pushed the other to excel as you rose through the ranks, and became better soldiers, and eventually leaders, for it.

The life-and-death battles that came with experience only strengthened your bond. Having each others’ backs in a fight brought a depth of trust that few other situations could, you’d found–it seemed inevitable, then, when your relationship turned physical. Though neither of you were as interested in other people, you weren’t exclusive: A near-death experience on your end made you question the wisdom of such an arrangement with both parties in such high-risk employment. And for years, that was fine with you, and you’d assumed it was fine with Smoker. You would get to see each other when work let your paths cross, and you both made a point to try to spend time together if your vacations overlapped. But at last year’s Marine Ball, Smoker had asked you, flat-out in that direct manner of his, if you would be exclusive with him. You asked for some time to think it over, promising him an answer by the time you next met.

That time happened to be the start of the current mission, a few weeks ago. Smoker made a valiant attempt to hide his pleasure when you told him you accepted. He didn’t smile in front of anyone else, nor did he treat you differently while they were watching, but it still slipped out in other ways. He went noticeably easier on his men, even holding his tongue rather than scolding Tashigi when she lost her glasses again. Watching his unit trying to figure out why their Vice Admiral seemed in such a good mood was a source of great entertainment for you.

Unfortunately for everyone, it didn’t last. The mission ultimately led to a fight with the pirates you’d been hunting, and Smoker had been pissy ever since. In the heat of battle, he didn’t notice an enemy taking aim at him. You did, managing to push him out of the way and getting grazed in the process. It wasn’t serious, but you knew that stubborn chimney would hyperfocus on it for a while, replaying the situation in his head and trying to figure out what he could have done differently.

Smoker’s insistence on treating your wound himself, having gruffly dismissed both medics from the tent, was proof enough of that.

“Sutures now,” he says.

You could usually tell what he was thinking because you thought the same way. Both of you were quick to blame yourselves, to shoulder the burden because you were strong enough to. His sense of duty and yours could clash at times; you shared that headstrong independence in common. And yet, at the end of the day, your decision to accept his offer had been an easy one.

More importantly than loving you, Smoker respected you–and you’d like to keep it that way. He was never a dick about gender like many in the Navy could be, but your conduct was always in the back of your head regardless. Not appearing weak was crucial to social survival in this line of work. And so, even though Smoker is safe, you do your best not to react when he starts to stitch. Despite your best efforts, you can’t stop a twitch here, a contorting of your face there, and Smoker sighs through his nose, twin plumes of smoke puffing from his nostrils like a dragon.

“Even after all this time,” he grumbles. "You don’t need to act tough in front of me. You’re just like Tashigi… Or, I should say, Tashigi takes after you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The pain makes you respond a little more snappily than you normally would. You don’t appreciate the implications of him naming the only women he spends time with, for one. For another, you’ve informally adopted Tashigi and will hear no slander toward her, but Smoker surprises you with his response.

“You put on a brave face,” he glances at you for a moment before returning his focus to your wound, “because you have to work twice as hard to gain half as much respect.”

That catches you off guard. As much as you love Smoker, and as sensible as he usually is, that’s not something you’d expect to hear from a man, much less a military man. Neither had you ever felt it necessary to discuss that aspect of your life with him, so you ask, “who told you that?”

“Vice Admiral Tsuru.”

You blink. “What brought on that conversation?”

“It was years ago, when we had our big fight,” Smoker briefly looks up as he recalls it. The continued disrespect of your male peers had reached a boiling point, and Smoker’s promotion ahead of you had brought out some hard feelings. “She overheard us, apparently. I didn’t ask, but she approached me with a ‘word of advice,’ and told me her guess as to why you were upset. Said I ought to go easy on you.”

“She did?” You didn’t expect that, either. Tsuru had never once coddled you, nor had she treated you any differently from other soldiers. Like any other Vice Admiral, she demanded no less than excellence from the rank and file. To think she was looking out for you behind your back brings a small smile to your face, but Smoker only rolls his eyes.

“Yeah. And years later, when Tashigi was assigned to me–Tsuru didn’t say anything, but she made eye contact with me the next time we met. Sustained eye contact.”

You laugh; he does not, silently tying off the sutures and starting to bandage your arm. You watch Smoker work. His expression doesn’t change much, but you know him well enough to read the minute differences, the slight tensing of his brow and the way he bites down just a bit harder on his cigars.

“You’re still mad.”

“Why did you take the bullet?” He cuts right to the chase, pausing his work to give you a hard look.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, too, as you hadn’t taken anything, you’d only been grazed. The wound wasn’t even that deep, whereas Smoker getting shot directly would have been a far worse injury to treat, assuming he survived it at all. “Smoker, that pirate was using Colors of Arms. It would have hurt you.”

“So you let it hurt you instead.” His voice is carefully flat as he resumes bandaging, the way it is when he’s making an effort not to raise it–he learned early on that you have zero tolerance for men shouting.

This conversation always happened after combat situations, to the point that it long since stopped being a bother. You know how to handle it now. Once it would have aggravated you, feeling like coddling, but you’d since come to learn that Smoker got irritable when anyone under his command was injured. Pretending like he would feel any less toward his partner was unfair to him, and a naive expectation in the first place. Not much raises his spirits in these situations aside from time, but you try to be lighthearted anyway.

“In the interest of tactics,” you point out, “as the strongest one in our group, it’s more important that you stay uninjured.”

“Screw that. You’re under me in rank–”

“Barely–” you try to cut in.

“–it’s my job to keep you safe.” Smoker finishes wrapping your wound. He’s delicate when he tucks the bandage in, but then peels off his rubber gloves and tosses them with far more force than necessary, the rubber snapping loudly against the waste bin.

You tsk. “Did you forget what they taught us as grunts, way back when? ‘Keep the Captain alive.’ And you did keep me safe, didn’t you? You subdued the pirate with the opening I gave you. I kept my Captain alive, you kept the rest of us safe. The system worked as it should.”

“The system is a fucking joke,” he retorts with a bitterness you rarely hear from him. His hands ball into fists, and you know he’s thinking about Punk Hazard again, which means he’s thinking about Alabasta again, too.

You also know that his stewing in those memories will only make him feel worse, but there’s another way to lift his mood that occasionally works, when he’s receptive to it.

“...Yeah? Is that what you keep telling yourself whenever you’re fooling around with your subordinate?” You say it just a touch vampishly, and his eyes are slightly narrowed when they meet yours–he knows what you’re doing. “You should know better, Captain.”

Calling him ‘Captain,’ evoking the old days and the old power dynamic, is another dead giveaway as to what you’re offering. For a moment, he doesn’t reply, and you think his mood’s too sour to reciprocate. Then he relaxes his fists and grunts.

“I don’t tell myself anything when we're fooling around,” he says. “You do plenty of that for me. Mainly don’t stop and please.”

You smile, going to rest your hands on his, but he pulls away, shaking his head. “No, don’t–don’t distract from what happened.”

“Smoker,” you sigh.

“It’s my mistake that got you hurt.”

“Will you please stop taking responsibility for my choices? I know what I can handle. Hell, you know what I can handle. You know I can take care of myself.”

“So can I,” he argues.

“Apparently not!” you snap. He scowls and turns his head, ashamed, but you grab his sleeve to make him look at you again. You are not going to coddle his ego, even if his intentions are ultimately loving. “Put yourself in my shoes for a damn second. How would you feel if you had the chance to protect me and didn’t? You wanted to be committed to each other. That means I look out for you, too.”

Smoker stares at you, then at the ground, and then closes his eyes. You wait patiently as he takes a deep breath. When he lets it out, you can visibly see the tension easing in his shoulders, sense its waning with your Haki, dissipating with the smoke he exhales. Stepping before you once more, he rests his hands low on your hips and pulls you close without a word. Conveniently, with him having over a foot of height on you, you can embrace him without the threat of cigar smoke up in your face; you promptly take advantage of that to bury your face into his broad chest (another win for height difference.)

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, and a warm feeling spreads in your chest at how easy it is for him to admit it, to defer to your judgment when rightfully earned. “I just hate seeing you injured.”

“Because I’m a woman?”

“Because you’re my woman.” Smoker grabs your ass in emphasis, squeezing hard and pulling you flush against him. You can’t help but bite your lip at the treatment, and he smirks down at you. “Like the sound of that?”

“I dunno…”

“You’re blushing.”

“So are you!”

That makes him pause, taking a moment to check the surroundings with his Haki, making sure no one’s heading your way. You instinctively follow suit, sensing the various life energies of your combined units, all at their respective posts. Comfortably in the clear, you and Smoker focus back on each other.

“I know you're still frustrated, Smoker,” you say. “If only there was some way to work it out…”

“I’m getting the subtle impression you want me to take it out on you.” One hand leaves your rear to cup your jaw, thumb pressing lightly on your lower lip. You poke your tongue out to brush the calloused digit, making his eyes half-lid and his voice deepen. “Are you really such a slut that you’d fuck right after getting injured?”

“Only for you, Captain,” you promise. Keeping eye contact, you lightly bite the tip of his thumb, earning the rare sound of his breath catching. “Besides…we both know it would have to be deeper than that to affect me.”

“How deep we talkin’?” Smoker’s hand slides from your jaw to cradle the back of your neck. You go to hook your arms around his neck, but raising your injured arm up above your head agitates your wound, torn muscles burning, and you can’t stop yourself from sucking in a sharp breath at the sting.

Smoker clicks his tongue, large hands gently wrapping around your forearms and lowering them back to your sides. “You need to rest.”

“Nooo, no I don’t. This is nothing,” you protest.

“You’re in pain.”

“I like a little pain.”

“Trust me, Y/n,” he says, touching under your chin. “I am well acquainted with the kind of pain you like. This ain’t it.”

“You’re literally not the boss of me.”

“And yet, so often, you beg me to be just that.”

Unamused, you tilt your head away so he isn’t touching you, trying not to frown as your heart sinks. By now, you should be an expert at dealing with disappointment, but it never gets easier. God, but it feels like a physical thing sometimes, creeping and icy like a winter sea. “By the time I heal enough, we’ll have parted ways again.”

“I know.” Smoker takes your hands in his; a small consolation.

“I don’t know when I’ll see you next.” You look at him, squeezing his hands.

“Pretend it’s the old days,” Smoker suggests, “when you couldn’t stand to even share a bunk with me.”

You smile at the memory–it seems like a lifetime ago. “That doesn’t help. I wanted to fuck you back then, too.”

That finally makes him smile slightly, the corner of his lip curling. “Then you’ll just have to wait,” he lets go of your hands to hold your face again, leaning in closer, “and I will take great satisfaction knowing you’re touching yourself in private, thinking about what I’ll do to you when I see you next.”

You wet your lips, pulse jumping at the thought. “Why don’t you give me a little preview? I mean, I did just save your life and all…”

Smoker grins, taking out his cigars with one hand and stubbing them in the palm of the other. It doesn’t hurt him given his Devil Fruit, but there’s something about the entire process, from watching the cigars leave his lips to hearing the sizzle as they’re put out, that just makes you wet. Maybe it’s a conditioned response–he’ll move his cigars out of the way to kiss you, but if he stubs them out, it means he intends on taking his time.

“Fine, but don’t complain when you get worked up for nothing.”

“I’ll deal.”

“You say that now–”

You grab the collar of his jacket with your good hand, using your full strength to yank him down to your level. “Would you please shut up and kiss me?”

Smoker responds with equal force, grabbing you by the neck. Your resulting moan is cut off by his lips crashing into yours.

Finally. It’s been months since you’ve last tasted him, even longer since you had him. And while you always missed him when you were apart, it was noticeably worse ever since he asked you to be exclusive. Maybe it was the knowledge that he wanted you to himself, the desire you now knew burned for no one else.

You part your mouth, tracing his lips with your tongue before sucking and nibbling on them. Smoker matches your energy, following your lead and biting your lower lip. Just as you start getting into it, your tongues meet, and suddenly he’s pulling away. “What?” you ask breathily. “What is it?”

“I changed my mind,” Smoker says.

“What?!”

“Any more and I won’t be able to stop myself.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Yep.” He at least has the decency to look sheepish, but you don’t bother to hide your displeasure, even glaring slightly. “Don’t give me that look.”

“You know,” you cross your arms, wincing when it agitates your wound, “now that we’re monogamous, it’s kind of your job to meet my needs.”

Smoker looks at you sharply in surprise, but you don’t budge. You’ve dealt with misogynistic bullshit for so long, you’re allowed to weaponize it once in a while.

“You are injured,” he points at you, “I’m not letting you guilt me.”

“I’m just saying, that wouldn’t matter if we were slow and gentle about it–”

“When have we ever done slow and gentle?”

You raise a hand to retort, but then pause. Though you scramble for an example, no matter how much you think back, you realize it’s never really happened. Your meetings with Smoker were so few and far between that you two always ended up blowing off steam intensely. There was one time where your vacations overlapped and you spent a week at a rented cottage, and that was it. Slowly, you lower your hand. “Okay, you got me there.”

“And I promise I’ll get you there again,” Smoker says cheekily, “next time.”

This time, you do roll your eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“Yeah, here’s some more.” You roll your eyes three more times, just to push his buttons a little.

“You’re going to get in trouble for that one day,” Smoker says, having long-since wisened up to your tactics. “This is bait.”

“It is, but you don’t have to take it.”

“Only one of us is going to be taking it–”

Both your senses go off, Haki alerting you to a soldier approaching the tent–Tashigi. You pull away from each other, fixing your uniforms and putting on a strict air. The two of you have yet to be open about your relationship. Romance between soldiers wasn’t necessarily forbidden, but it was less messy to keep things under wraps.

With the mission over, your units would be going on their separate ships the following morning. This will be the last you see him for who knows how long.

Right before Tashigi reaches the tent, Smoker takes your hand suddenly, pulling you into a hug. He buries his face into your neck, taking in your scent.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he mutters, then lets you go.

When Tashigi walks into the tent, you and Smoker aren’t standing as close, and Smoker’s re-lit his cigars.

Before you leave for the night, though, you tap on the exam table, a subtle farewell, and right before you leave the tent, you hear Smoker’s return tap.

It’s been three months since the end of the mission with Smoker. Out of the blue, you receive orders to return to the nearest Marine outpost, three weeks away by sail. The message contains no further information.

It’s not unusual to get such orders. Sometimes plans are too sensitive to be relayed even over a secure transponder snail channel. That doesn’t stop it from being annoying–you hate going on long trips blindly–but such is the nature of the job.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if anyone else would be summoned to the outpost. It could be that only one unit is called in. Occasionally, multiple units are called at once. There’s a small chance that others have indeed been called, and an even smaller chance that Smoker’s unit could be among them. But you snuff out the thought–getting excited only to be let down has happened too many times now, you know better than to get your hopes up. It’s simply not worth the disappointment, so you forget about the possibility.

From the number of ships at the dock, you can gauge that your unit is, in fact, not the only one that’s been called in, but you’re one of the first few to arrive. Whether others will come after is not your concern, so you disembark and head inside to be briefed on the reason you’re there in the first place.

Debriefings are boring. So is the down time in-between that and the following meetings, which are the most boring of all. Holding back a yawn is a monumental feat, but you manage, especially because Admiral Sakazuki is the one currently speaking. He’d tear you a new asshole if he caught you displaying such blatant disrespect.

You don’t care for Sakazuki at all. He’s exactly the kind of man the top brass looks for–rigid, humorless, and austere in his leadership. He’s also short-tempered, rude, and, in general, a giant douchebag. So while you stay alert and attentive as he talks, you have no qualms thinking to yourself, shut up, shut up, shut up…

Not curating your thoughts is a mistake. When Sakazuki mentions his annoyance at civilian interference with a mission, you aren’t able to stop yourself from rolling your eyes in time, and he catches you.

The bellowing that follows is deafening, the admonishment humiliating. Sakazuki chews you out and spits you up, right there in front of everyone. Do it again and he won’t bother demoting you, he says, he’ll just roast you alive and serve you to your unit.

The room is dead silent when he finishes. You’ve never felt smaller.

Sakazuki takes a deep hit of his cigar, wraps up the meeting, and dismisses everyone. When you turn around, you see that Smoker is at the back, having joined in late–you didn’t even notice him with the Admiral’s presence bowling over everyone else’s energy. Smoker meets your eye, his gaze carefully blank. You look away as you pass by him.

“Y/n–” he starts to say.

You shake your head tersely, not willing to hear it. Smoker lets you leave.

It’s only a few hours later, after you’ve had some time to cool off, that he shows up again. You’re in the temporary quarters you’ve been assigned–at your rank, at least you have your own private room–laying in the bed when Smoker appears. A small stream of smoke comes from under the door and rises, gathering into a human shape. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s visited you covertly in that way. The shape solidifies and reforms into the man you love, who crosses the room and sits next to you on the bed.

“Don’t say ‘I told you so.’ I know,” you mumble without looking at him, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Smoker just rests a hand on your knee and grunts.

Your zero tolerance for men shouting obviously can’t apply to those ranking above you, something you’ve had to accept as a fact of military life. It’s part of what drove you in your career, maybe even the root of your ambition, the reason you dream of being fleet admiral. Sometimes you wonder–is it a powerful woman’s determination to succeed? Or a little girl’s desperate bid for control and security, so that no one could ever assert themselves over her again? Either way, you long to be at the top, so you would never have to sacrifice your principles for the sake of your career ever again.

“Smoker,” you say, still staring at the ceiling. “Do you think ‘admiral’ and ‘admiration’ come from the same word?”

Smoker is quiet for a moment. By now, he knows you so well he probably knows what you’re thinking.

“Dunno, kid,” is his response.

“We’re the same age.”

“Nuh-uh.”

That makes you smile, and you sit up, crawling over and throwing your arms around Smoker. He hugs you back tightly.

“Try to control yourself next time, yeah?” he suggests, patting your back. “You won’t do the world any good demoted.”

“I’m not in this for the world. You know that.”

“Bullshit. You have the lowest rate of civilian losses of all commissioned officers.”

You pull away from him, blinking. “I do? That’s–wait, how do you know that?”

“I snuck into the records office last year.” Smoker caresses the back of your head. “Despite what you tell yourself, you’re a good person, a great soldier, and an amazing leader.”

Your chest swells–with love, with pride–but you raise your chin. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“I am.”

You laugh. Part of what you loved about Smoker was his frankness. “I missed you so much.”

He removes his cigars from his mouth. “Show me.”

You hold his face in your hands and kiss him. Just like that, the anxiety of the day dissipates, like the smoke rising from his cigars, and fades away.

“That proof enough?” you ask playfully.

“No. You’ll need to do better than that, soldier.”

You reposition yourself, straddling his lap, and kiss him again passionately. His tongue swipes across your lips, but despite you parting them, he doesn’t give you what you want just yet, pulling away and trailing his fingers down your neck just to watch you shudder.

“I always did like,” he begins, “how a headstrong, driven gal like you would melt at just a touch.”

You’re a Rear Admiral. An elite, powerful soldier, well-versed in the six powers, and a wielder of both types of Haki. You can take out whole crews on your own. You’ve worked hard to get to where you are now, you want nothing less than to be the best. You have to be nothing short of perfect if you want any recognition.

It’s for that exact same reason why your interests in bed skew the way they do. Being strong all the time is exhausting. Relinquishing control is a release from that weight you carry. With Smoker, you can indulge in that with the complete trust that he’d never hurt you–it’s no wonder you’re weak for him in bed. So where you long to be at the top in your career, you’re quite happy, behind closed doors, to assume the opposite role.

Smoker stubs out his cigars in his palm. Just like before, the action has you pressing your legs together, heart picking up its rhythm. He turns to look for a trash can to throw them, you smack them out of his hand and onto the floor.

“Don’t make me wait, Captain,” you say impatiently, practically crawling onto him. “Not one moment longer.”

“Watch it,” he warns, but he’s smirking.

Smoker picks you up, stands, and turns to the wall, pinning you against it with his body. Then he grabs your face in one large hand and roughly kisses you. You kiss him back hungrily. All the stress from the day, all the frustration from the weeks without him, you pour it all into him. In turn, he lets you know with his tongue and his teeth just how much you’ve been missed. His thick thigh separates your legs while you make out, wedging snugly against your cunt. Back and forth, his thigh rubs into you, and back and forth, your tongues push and pull like waves against the other. There’s a bittersweet cigar flavor to him that you’ve grown addicted to. It tastes like passion and need and home all at once, and you can’t get enough.

Smoker sloppily kisses down your jaw, and you angle your head to make it easier for him, clutching onto his jacket. It’s hard to be rational after so long without his touch, but you’re a disciplined officer before anything else.

“You got condoms?” you ask breathily.

“I don’t,” he answers between kisses. “Didn’t think I’d see you.”

You have a birth control implant in your upper arm, but always use a second form of contraception just to be safe–even the implant has a minuscule rate of failure. But that percentage seems incredibly insignificant at the moment.

“That’s okay,” you decide.

“I’ll pull out.”

“Yeah–mm!”

Smoker’s bitten down on the sensitive side of your neck. You clamp your thighs around his, gasping. You intended to touch him back, but as usual, once he starts sucking on your neck, you can’t focus on much else, a little whimper rising from your throat.

It feels so good, little goosebumps prickling throughout your whole body. “Smoker,” you whine helplessly.

He growls in response, a deep sound that makes you twitch between the legs.

“Smoker, no marks,” you barely manage to remind him.

He breaks away. “I know.”

The loss of contact restores some mental perception. As much as he gets off on service, you want to make him feel good too. You rake your nails down his chest, and he shuts his eyes, growling again in approval. Then you lean forward and, standing on your tip-toes, bite his neck, near the base where he likes it.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, digging his fingers into your hips. You can’t mark him either, so you have to keep it light, but he doesn’t seem to care. “There’s my good girl…”

You kiss and lick down his chest, digging your nails into his sides as you go. Smoker shudders as your tongue traces his abs, mouth warm on his skin. You keep going down further, but he stops you once your fingers reach the hem of his pants.

“I want to take care of you,” he murmurs, pulling you back up by the arm and pressing you back into the wall. He leans in, caging you with his bulk. “Anything you want.”

You bite your lip, his forcefulness bringing something to mind. “Can you do the thing?”

“Make you lightheaded?”

You nod fervently, and Smoker wastes no time in grabbing your neck.

“No, I mean the other way.”

“Oh.”

“You can keep your hand there, though.” You grin up at him, and Smoker chuckles.

“That’s my needy little soldier, need me to keep you still, hm?” he praises. “Remember the safe signal?”

The safe signal is tapping ‘SOS’ on the other in morse code. You do so on his arm as a confirmation.

“Okay. You ready?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He leans in and kisses you, sealing your mouth with his own. You grip his wrist, tense in eager anticipation for what comes next.

Smoker transforms a part of his body internally, and, very slowly, wafts it into your throat. You breathe him in gradually, a single, deep breath bringing the smoke into your lungs. You had discovered this particular little activity by accident years ago, but quickly found out two things: First, his smoke doesn’t make you cough, and second, the lack of oxygen makes your head swim in the best way.

The smoke in your chest is warm and comforting, even soothing. You breathe in through your mouth and out through your nose, where the smoke drifts back and reconnects to Smoker’s body. The first breath of him doesn’t do anything, the second starts to bring on a slight airiness, by the third inhale you’re lightheaded and wetter than you’ve ever been.

You grind on his thigh, eyes rolling back. The lightheadedness enhances the pleasure so much you'll cum soon if you keep it up. Smoker presses his thigh up into you further, making you moan, and you reach for his cock. He’s already unbuttoned his pants for relief, as he’s ragingly hard–doing this always gets him really worked up, too. Something about the trust, about being physically in contact with the most life-giving parts of you, about being inside you in a way no other person could be. He feels the pulse of life through your lungs, and it almost makes him as dizzy as he’s making you.

Smoker groans as you start massaging his cock, reflexively thrusting himself into your hand. Thanks to your Marine training, you can hold your breath longer than most, so you stay like that for a while, grinding on his thigh while stroking him and basking in the high, the bliss mounting quickly higher until it explodes. You cum hard against the solid bulk of his thigh, pulling your head back and gasping fresh air as your vision spots.

“There you go, good girl,” Smoker praises, grabbing your hips and grinding you onto his thigh to draw out your orgasm. “Take deep breaths for me.”

You do as instructed, holding onto him and closing your eyes, slowly regaining oxygen as your clit throbs in the wake of everything. You take a few minutes to recover, Smoker peppering kisses all over your face in the meantime.

“All clear,” you say, wrapping your arms around Smoker’s neck. “Fit for duty and reporting for action.”

He leans in and kisses you, then kisses your jaw, making his way to your ear, where he growls, “how do you want me?”

What a dumb question–do you ask a starving man which restaurant he wants to go to? “Don’t care. Just have me.”

“Suit yourself. You got a change of clothes here?”

“Yeah.”

Without further notice, Smoker grabs your shirt at the neckline and tears it off your body in one motion. He knows better than to do the same to your bra (after having yelled at him years ago that good ones aren’t cheap,) letting you take it off yourself. Then he adjusts you so only your upper back is leaning against the wall, your hips perched on his own, with your legs wrapped around him for support. Now having some space behind your lower back, he grabs your wrists and pins them there.

“Don’t complain about your choices later,” Smoker says, and kisses his way down your breast until he’s reached your nipple, which he takes into his mouth.

“No, Sir–ah!” you bite back your moan as he swirls his tongue, tugging helplessly against his hold on your wrists. “Fuck!”

His tongue prods and licks your nipple, eyes fixed on your strained face, then he messily pops off and goes to your other one, sucking it hard.

“Smoker! Ah! Please…” you moan. His attention to your chest is the worst kind of teasing, making your engorged clit ache to be touched. You try in vain to grind against him for some relief, but with your wrists pinned behind your back, you can’t get any leverage. “Please!”

Smoker detaches from your chest, leaving a rough bite to your breast before responding. “What did I say about complaining?”

“I changed my mind!”

“Imagine that.”

He goes back to slurping and sucking on your tits, and you can do nothing about it but struggle against him, gasping and moaning as his teeth gently scrape your nipples.

“Please, Sir!” you beg.

“You said you didn’t care.”

“I need it!”

He kisses your nipple sloppily, pausing to ask, “you fantasize about it?” Then he sucks it into his mouth again, watching your expression as you struggle to respond.

“Yes! I–fuck–I thought about you every night!”

“What did you imagine me doing to you?”

“What do you think?” you whine, losing composure.

“Tell me.”

You could cry with frustration. He keeps teasing your chest while you try to form the words. “I thought about you–manhandling me, pulling my hair…”

“And?”

“And holding me down, and fucking me stupid!” you sobbed. “Please, please!”

“Please what, soldier?”

“Please use me for yourself! I want to forget everything but your name!”

He smirks, finally satisfied. “You sound damn good begging, you know that?”

Letting go of your wrists, Smoker tears your pants off of you as easily as he did your shirt, gripping the cloth so hard your underwear beneath is torn off with it. He hastily pushes his pants and boxers down, his massive cock springing rigid against his abs, smearing pre-cum on his skin. You practically salivate at the sight, but he tilts your chin back up to look at him, then kisses you, tongue in your mouth as he lines himself up with your heat.

“Deep breath,” Smoker says, low voice unusually gentle.

You do as instructed, anticipation curling in your gut. On the exhale, he thrusts all the way inside your heat, and your breath turns into a broken moan.

“I know,” he growls, kissing up your neck, “attagirl, taking it all.”

“Oh my god,” you rest your head on his shoulder, overwhelmed by how good it feels. “Oh, Smoker…”

He pulls back his hips before rolling them into you, ripping a moan from you both. “Fuck, you’re wet.” He thrusts again. “And warm. So warm.”

Smoker starts up a brisk, steady pace, most of your upper body supported by his arms, just your upper back resting on the wall. It’s still not enough for him; he presses you back even further until you’re flat against the wall, thrusting up into you desperately. You grab onto his thick arms, fingers digging in, and hold on for the ride, eyes shutting tightly as he rapidly drags you back to another peak.

“Such a loyal little soldier, taking care of their captain…” he murmurs, and you cry out as you cum a second time. He moans at the feeling of your walls spasming around his cock, slowing down so he can kiss you.

Smoker pulls away from the wall, walking you toward the bed. Unable and unwilling to wait, you use the strength in your thighs to ride him standing, fucking yourself on his dick as he walks. The sensation makes him stagger and groan, cursing.

“So desperate for my cock,” he growls into your ear, then picks you up off his length and tosses you, face-down, onto the bed. Before you can so much as turn your head, he smacks your ass hard, making you moan, then grabs your hair and pulls your head back to look at him.

“Well, Y/n?” he asks. “Am I meeting your needs now, you little slut?” He slaps your ass again, drawing another pathetic noise from you, then mounts you from behind, his broad torso covering your back.

Smoker teases the tip of his cock at your entrance, but you practically throw yourself back onto him. Growling, he grabs your hips and spears you on his length, grip bruising as he starts heavy, rough thrusts.

“Yes!” you cry, finally getting what you’ve craved all these months. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“You take it so well, Y/n, and you’re all mine.” Smoker lets go of your hip with one hand to instead curl his fingers into your hair at the base, pulling your head back so he can growl into your ear, “I love knowing that I’m the only one who gets to fuck you.”

“Captain!” you moan, bracing against his powerful hips. “Don’t stop!”

He doesn’t slow down for a moment, never changing pace, working you back up and up and up until you’re moaning with every thrust.

“Gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Me too,” he pants. “Fuck, it’s so good. You’re so good.”

“Finish inside!”

“What–?”

“Please!”

He slows for just a moment in his surprise, but then gets back to his former pace. “Ain’t there a chance you could get pregnant?”

Now, you weren’t interested in having children. The idea occasionally had some appeal, but you preferred your life as it was. And yet, for some reason, at Smoker’s words, you felt your clit throb and your cunt clench around his dick tightly, enough that he definitely noticed.

“You want that?” Smoker says in disbelief.

“No!” you cried, but it was too late, he pulled your head back again and spoke into your ear.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want me to knock you up?”

You clenched down on him again involuntarily as you sobbed, “that’s not it!”

But Smoker had found a new weak point of yours, and pounced on it fully. “I’m gonna fill you up. Gonna make you have my baby,” he growled, “then you’ll really be mine forever.”

The edges of Smoker’s form begin to wisp. You’ve heard of inexperienced Logia types losing control of their form when stressed, something fixed with training. At Smoker’s level, it only happened to him when he was about to cum really hard.

“Or is it,” Smoker pants, “you just want to be full of my cum that badly? You’d risk it just to have me claim you… Oh–oh, fuck!”

Your eyes rolled back as you both hit your peak at the same time, Smoker emptying hot and thick inside you, his groan coming from deep in his belly. The nerves of your cunt spark and snap and go off like fireworks, showering your whole body in bliss that radiates in waves. His head rests on yours, his lips finding the back of your neck, kisses now soft and chaste instead of rough and wet.

Smoker readjusts you to both lay down, not pulling out, just holding you to his chest. You close your eyes as both of you catch your breath, soaking in the closeness while you can. You take in everything you can of that moment: his scent, the sweat rolling down your bodies, his firm body against and inside you still, his arms holding you close. You try and imprint it into your brain, so you can hold onto the memory in the coming lonely months without him.

“I love you,” Smoker says softly.

“I love you too,” you murmur. He’s quiet after that, but you can sense that there’s something else he wants to say. “What is it?”

“How would you feel about getting married someday?”

You blink, turning your head to look at him. The look in his eyes is the same as always: serious and forthright, though now beholding you, there’s a gentleness in them as well. He pulls out and you turn around so you’re facing him.

“Serious?” you whisper.

“Well, you don’t want kids. I gotta do something to make you mine.”

You smile. “Smoker, you don’t have to do anything.” You take his face in your hands. “It’s always been you. You’re the only one who gets me, and who makes an effort. It’s always been you.” You lean in to kiss him. “I would love to get married someday.”

“Good,” he grunts, but there’s a flush to his cheeks. Then he breaks into a rare, genuine smile of excitement. “Really?”

“First I’m going to become an Admiral.”

“What about Fleet Admiral?”

“That can come before or after.”

“Okay.” he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in close. “I don’t doubt you’ll make it.”

“I don’t either,” you say.

Not as long as you have his support.

#one piece smut #smoker one piece #smoker x reader #zen writes

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amomentsescape · 7 months ago

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hello! may i please request a hurt to comfort oneshot of Victor meeting the reader for the first time? he's just out on the town post-job, getting a milkshake or smth and sees reader in a really nice, pretty outfit crying quietly alone on a bench. for whatever reason, he goes up to them and asks why they're crying and they explain that it's their first birthday party ever and all their friends cancelled/ghosted on them.

i'm in a similar situation where i'm about to have my first birthday party ever and i'm really nervous that something is gonna happen. every other time i've tried, something comes up and people either cancel on me or just ghost me complately :,)

Birthday Wishes

Victor Zsasz x Reader

Summary: Victor finds Reader alone on their birthday.

Warnings: Reader being called "pretty," mentions of bad friends

Word Count: 1,018

A/N: Happy, happy birthday <3 I wish you the best day and hope that things were different this time. P.S. I wrote this in a sleep deprived stupor, so I hope this all came out to your liking still :)

Victor literally never catches a break. And honestly, he liked it that way.

He's spent so much of his life "working" that he doesn't know what to do with himself when he's not assigned a hit. And this is clearly why he found himself walking the busy streets of Gotham with a half melted vanilla shake in his hand.

Isn't this what the normal people do when they're off work? Not that Victor has ever been normal, but he is currently trying to find any way to keep his mind off of the fact that he isn't working.

Honestly, not having someone to kill was more stressful than the opposite. If he's not killing, then what's his purpose?

He looked down at the sad shake in his hand and let out a sigh, feeling conflicted on what to do.

His mind raced with thoughts on tomorrow when he would finally be back to his calling, stalking along the roofs of the tallest buildings with the prettiest views.

He tossed his shake into a nearby trashcan and continued to walk, ignoring the odd glances from those he passed along the street.

Victor kept up his pace and barely noticed how the crowd was beginning to thin out.

The quieter environment was welcomed, but this moment of peace was quickly shaken to the sound of pitiful cries coming from around the corner.

He would have normally relished in this sound, but something about the sobs and sniffles triggered an unfamiliar feeling in Victor's chest: worry.

He poked his head around the corner and saw you curled up on a bench, your face shoved in your hands.

He was quick to notice your elaborate outfit, immediately wondering if this was some type of date gone wrong. But he was quick to shake that thought away. You were much too pretty to have been stood up. At least, that's what he thought. Hell knows he wouldn't have stood someone like you up, hitman or not.

He hesitated for a moment, debating whether talking to you would be a good idea. He wasn't exactly a warm and welcoming sort of person to most, and the last thing he wanted to do was worsen the state you were already in. But at the same time, who cared? He was likely never going to see you again anyways unless your gorgeous self showed up on tomorrow's hit list.

He approached you, his heavy footsteps enough to quiet your crying, your head carefully rising to see who was near.

And the moment his eyes saw yours, he knew he had been right; you were very pretty, and he could almost immediately feel his usual confidence waver ever so slightly at the confirmation.

"What seems to be the matter?" he asked softly, not wanting to startle you.

And to his surprise, you casually rolled your eyes, not even slightly uncomfortable by his looks or presence.

"It's stupid," your voice broke.

You grimaced at how hoarse you sounded, looking away from his gaze quickly.

"I wouldn't consider this stupid," he quickly responded.

He nodded his head to the empty space beside you. You scooted over a bit and allowed him to sit despite still being a stranger to you.

Victor just sat there and watched you for a bit. He was silently hoping you would eventually open up to what was going on. But of course, he wasn't one to pry. In fact, he wasn't one to even engage in a situation like this to begin with.

In a city like Gotham, you were obviously not the first person he came across crying by themselves. But you were certainly the first person to catch his attention.

Finally, with a shaky breath, you spoke up.

"My friends..." you scoffed at yourself. "I can't even call them that anymore. What kind of friends aren't there for your own birthday?" you sniffled.

The realization dawned on him as he took in your words. Well this was even more upsetting of a situation than he had originally planned.

"They canceled?" he asked.

You let out a dry laugh. "Some did. Others weren't even kind enough to send me a text saying they couldn't make it."

You shook your head as you stared into your lap.

"You know, I spent every year of my life not celebrating my birthday because I was scared of this exact thing happening. And of course, the one time I felt confident enough to do it, my nightmare became real. Is there something wrong with me?"

The moment the words left your mouth, your eyes widened, shifting up immediately to meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn’t be spewing my trauma on a stranger."

You could already feel your eyes burning with tears again, the sensation making you angry. It was one thing to be pathetically crying on a random bench out in the open, but it was an entirely different thing to be doing this in front of some handsome man.

"Victor," his voice broke you from your thoughts.

You looked back up at him.

"What?"

You were surprised to see him smile softly at you.

"My name is Victor. So now we're not strangers, hmm?"

His smile was contagious as you found your body relaxing at his friendliness.

"(Y/N)," you finally responded after a moment.

"Well, happy birthday, (Y/N)."

Victor began to stand at this, a feeling of disappointment weighing in your chest.

You assumed he was leaving until he paused and looked down at you, his hand reaching out.

"Shall we?"

You tilted your head in confusion. "What-"

"It's your birthday. About time you finally got to celebrate it, hmm?"

A smile broke out on your face as you took his hand, following him away from that lonely bench.

This may not have been how you planned the day going originally, but there was no way you were going to argue with it. If you would have known some handsome man was going to show up and sweep you off your feet, you would have happily cut your "friends" off a lot sooner.

#victor zsasz fluff #gotham victor zsasz #victor zsasz x reader #victor zsasz #gotham fandom #gotham x reader #gotham #gotham city

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heartforbangtan · 2 months ago

Text

The only exception | 3

Series Summary: What are the consequences of having your first kiss with your best friend?

Pairing: Park Jimin X Female Reader

Genre: Dancer AU, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Romance, Mutual Pining

Chapter Count: 3 /? (ongoing)

Word count: 6,8k+

Content Warnings: explicit mature content

A/N: sooo sorry for the delay. A lot of things have happened in my life lately, besides a looot of college exams 😭😭 I hope you're still with me 🥺🥺

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I'm sorry that I hurt you It's something I must live with everyday And all the pain I put you through I wish that I could take it all away And be the one who catches all your tears That's why I need you to hear The reason - Hoobastank

Current days

Seoul, South Korea

The truth is that you have depended emotionally on Jimin for a long time and only now do you realize it. This situation has two sides of the coin: one, you feel happy to have had someone to count on, someone who made the mood less heavy for you; two, you feel guilty for having depended so much on him for so long.

You wonder if maybe that was the reason Jimin left. Maybe he was fed up with your problems and didn't know how to say he didn't want to be a part of it anymore.

As the years passed, with maturity and the search for psychological help, you were able to understand many things.

Today you are no longer bothered by your parents' problems. Living away from home for a few years has helped you to get away from the black hole that was their problems.

Your life took a different direction and, to be honest, it became much lighter. But there was still something inside you that needed to be finished.

You avoided talking about this in therapy, but at times it came to the surface. Another thing that therapy helped you see: despite all the chaos that your life became as a teenager, you managed to find something good in it. Today you can recognize it: you were madly in love with Jimin. But who wouldn't be? He was simply perfect, even at such a young age.

All the fun times you had together, plus the times he helped you so much, couldn't have resulted in anything other than you falling in love with him.

However, now Jimin was on another level and you no longer belonged to his world like before. Despite this, you couldn't help yourself not to think about him most of the time.

And you hate your head for it. How could you keep thinking about him even after he was gone?

Many of your feelings were being revived and turned upside down with this new reality of working side by side with him.

When they say, temporary pleasure helps fuel your loneliness, they’re not lying.

And that's what you're doing now.

On top of him, with his cock buried inside you, it kind of makes you forget about your whole life. Your eyes are closed, trying to focus on the pleasure you're feeling.

“Y/n, look at me…” Taehyung says, but you ignore him.

Looking at him shatters the illusion, and as fragile as it is, the illusion is all you have.

“Y/n, please.”

You start to ride him harder, stopping him from talking any further. Your pussy contracts, the familiar pleasure building inside your belly.

Taehyung knows what you're thinking. And he doesn't mind being your outlet sometimes. It's not like he has feelings for you like that. But he would like you to at least look at him while you're having sex

He gives up trying to make you look at him. Taehyung grabs your waist and throws your body against the bed. The sudden change in position makes you open your eyes in fright. And for a moment you think that maybe he had had enough of your nonsense.

But he opens your legs and positions himself in the middle again. Adjusting the condom on his member, he directs himself back inside you.

The wonderful feeling of being filled by him in this different position makes you roll your eyes. Taehyung is pleased to know that you are enjoying it. His fingers begin to caress your clit, encouraging you to get closer to orgasm.

His breathing is heavy, slowly releasing hoarse moans. Taehyung can feel you tightening around him and he knows you're close to cumming.

His hips don't stop, slamming into you deliciously while his long fingers don't stop on your clit. Your fingers grip the sheets around you, making your knuckles white as you squeeze tightly. You can no longer control your moans, feeling that you are close to cumming.

“Tae, I'm going to-”

The combination of his moans and the sound of your skin slapping together makes you go crazy, the orgasm hitting you in strong waves.

Your legs tighten around his hips, pressing him against your body to keep him deep inside you.

“Wow…”

Taehyung can't control his moans as he feels you cumming around him. The scene is so erotic for him, that it pushes him to the peak, cumming along with you. The temporary pleasure feels so good that it almost makes everything seem perfect.

He kisses your forehead and gets off, going to discard the used condom.

You're a mess in bed. Your hair is spread out on the pillow and your body is sticky. When Taehyung comes back from your bedroom suite, you look at him with hungry eyes.

“You're so hot.”

He gives you that half-embarrassed, half-smug smile and joins you in bed.

“What were you thinking?”

You cover your body with the blanket and turn to face him in bed. You don’t know exactly what you were thinking. Maybe you were trying to focus solely on what you were doing, instead of getting lost in your thoughts and suddenly losing the mood.

“Nothing, I was trying to focus.”

“Why? Don’t I satisfy you enough?”

You get a little surprised by his words. You go over to him and throw your weight on top of his body.

“Of course you satisfy me. My legs are still shaking from just now.”

Taehyung smiles and he looks cute when he smiles. You can’t help but smile too.

“Then why did you need to focus?” His voice is soft and soothing, making you relax. You lay your head on his chest and breathe deeply in the scent of his masculine skin

“I don’t know, I’m just really stressed with work. Sorry about that.”

Taehyung starts to play with your hair, running his fingers through the strands and smoothing them.

“You don’t need to apologize, I just want to know what’s going on in that little head of yours.”

Your head hurts a little, thinking about all the things that have happened this week in your life. You consider whether you should tell Taehyung what is stressing you out so much that you can barely focus on having sex with him. You feel bad for him, because sex with him is incredible and you can't complain about the countless times he has made you tremble after several rounds.

But now you are feeling a whirlwind of emotions and it is bothering you, you can’t allow yourself to feel these emotions. An immense dissatisfaction, a desire to go out and shout at everyone for no apparent reason.

“How was your week?” His voice disconnects you from your thoughts.

“I’m working with Jimin”

You close your eyes and wait for him to be surprised or some other reaction you can’t imagine.

“Hm, that’s unexpected. How are you feeling?”

To be honest, Taehyung already kind of knew about the whole situation. Ever since Jimin returned to Seoul after his performance trips, they’ve been talking more regularly. He just doesn’t think it would be ideal to tell you about it now, so he’s hoping you’ll tell him what’s bothering you first.

You lift your head from his chest and study him for a few seconds. He seems to be sincere and your heart softens.

“Strange.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“Not exactly. We agreed to meet today.”

“That’s good.”

You raise an eyebrow doubtfully at Taehyung.

“What? I don’t know what else to say.”

“I don’t know either, honestly.”

You two stay silent for a few seconds, you just listening to his heartbeat with your head resting on his chest.

"Well, what time are you guys meeting?"

Your mind is somewhere else, but when you hear Taehyung's question your eyes widen.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” You get up quickly, not caring that you are naked, and start looking for your cell phone that is somewhere scattered among the clothes you threw on the floor.

You still have about an hour to get ready and leave.

“Thank God, there’s still time.”

“Do you want to take a shower?”

You turn and look at him and Taehyung is giving you a mischievous look. You get the message.

“Round two?” you ask.

And he’s already getting off the bed, heading towards you while you run to your bathroom laughing.

The discomfort between the two of you is noticeable to anyone who looks at you for more than 10 seconds.

Jimin shifts uncomfortably in his chair in front of you. He looks at you, his blond hair falling a little over his eyes.

You hold back the urge to sigh, because it's unbelievable that he could look so handsome with a hair color so different from his real shade. It's almost like he was born to be blond.

This isn't good for your mental health. Having him so close and so irresistibly handsome does things to your head and you have to remember why you're here.

“I didn't know you worked for that advertising company.” Jimin breaks the silence.

It's obvious you don't know. You never spoke to me again.

You think about it, but you don't have the courage to tell him. Not when you need to have a good relationship in order to continue working, for now. So you opt for a softer answer than you would like.

“I've been working with Minah for a few years now.” you try to say it as softly as possible, without letting the anger you're feeling show.

“Oh…”

And the uncomfortable atmosphere is back. In a few seconds a waitress is at your table, checking your orders and you thank God. The atmosphere was too heavy and neither of you knew how to fill that space in any other way.

The elephant in the room was clear and in vivid colors, but you both maneuvered to avoid it at every turn.

Jimin's head is so full that he can't choose the right words to say to you. He wants to tell you so many things but can't formulate any of them, ending up in silence.

“I didn't know you worked for Hybe. It's a pretty big company.” you lie.

You knew Jimin worked for that company, after all, you've never stopped following his work over the years.

A habit that your psychologist told you to eliminate from your routine, and you did. Somehow, eliminating this habit made you feel like you were definitely eliminating him from your life. And you didn't want that, despite everything.

But at some point you had to move on. You just didn't expect him to reappear in your life just when you were starting to move on a little.

“Oh, yeah, it was right after I left that, um, dance school I went to.“ Jimin looks embarrassed and you realize it.

“Ah…”

The mention of the well-known Seoul dance school he attended.

In other circumstances, this might be a reason for praise and all that. But this dance school only reminds you of what it was like to say goodbye to each other. One of your biggest traumas...

You agree with him, not knowing exactly what to say. Jimin knows that bringing up this topic wasn't a good idea and he mentally curses himself for it.

Silence takes over the table again and the only thing left is for you to look at each other.

You look at his hands on the table, playing with his own fingers in an attempt to calm his nervousness. His fingers have some rings adorning them and this doesn't go unnoticed by you.

You've always liked Jimin's hands. Something about their duality of being small and cute, but at the same time sensual and full of veins made you lose your mind.

Your eyes keep going up and you don't even notice that Jimin is doing the same to you. Analyzing your hands, looking for something.

Jimin is dressed all in black and you mentally curse him for it, for the countless time tonight. It should be forbidden for him to be dressed all in black like that and still be blond! It should be a crime for him to appear like that in front of you when all you want is to slap him for abandoning you. And you don't want to get lost in his stunning beauty, not at all.

You can't be weak enough to fall for his charms like that, even if he's not even trying.

When you reach his face, your eyes fall to his lips, the ones you kissed so much throughout your adolescence. The memory is still vivid in your mind.

The admiration lasted a few seconds, but you were late in meeting his eyes, because Jimin was already staring at you when you looked him in the eye. Your face heated up violently when you realized he had caught you staring at his lips.

You shifted in your chair, trying to show that you weren't affected by it, but the movement made you hit your knee and shake the things on the table.

“Shit... “ you curse. holding your knee.

Jimin looks at you worried and scared by the noise.

“Are you okay?”

And there's that concern of his that you really didn't need at that moment.

“Yes, yes, it was nothing.”

You continue massaging your knee as the waitress comes to bring your order to the table.

You realize that enough time has passed for your orders to be taken and brought to your table, but you haven't had a real conversation yet.

“So... What did you want to talk about?” you ask while keeping your eyes on the slice of cake you ordered.

“I think we should talk about us before all this starts.”

You accidentally hit the plate with your cutlery. Us.

“There's no us to talk about.” you don't look at him.

It never existed.

Maybe you were a little harsh.

“We can't keep avoiding each other like this if we're going to work together.” His voice is soft, but it still stresses you out.

“Well, it doesn't look like we're avoiding each other now.”

You point out, petulant, not liking the direction of this conversation.

Jimin maintains his posture, he knew you would be reluctant to talk. But he needed to do it.

“Y/n, you know what I'm talking about. You practically ran away from me on Tuesday.”

Jimin barely touched the food he ordered. And so did you.

His heart is tight in his chest and a lump in his throat as he sees you starting to get defensive with him.

The situation is starting to get to you, your fingers are already starting to tremble.

You stay silent because you don't know what to say to him, because he told the truth.

“I really want us to get along...again.”

Jimin says looking at you, waiting for you to look back. But you don't have the courage to look at him now. Not with him saying this kind of thing to you. After so long...

You almost laugh at what he says. Again?

“Again? So you can fuck me and then leave me like nothing happened?”

Your voice trembles a little and you feel like you've gone back in time, 5 years ago. When he left you without explanation, with your heart in your hand, which you had just ripped out of your chest to give to him.

You look at him with anger in your eyes, because that's what you're feeling right now.

Jimin has a surprised expression on his face at your outburst. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, as if he's trying to stay calm, and then looks at you again.

You couldn't imagine how much pain he was in.

"Don't say things like that." His voice is broken, you can feel it. But you think he doesn't have that right.

“Why not? It's the truth.”

“That's not how things happened and you know it.”

“So tell me how it went.” you're angry and your hands are already shaking. You hide them under the table, giving up on eating your meal.

Jimin sighs.

“We don't need to talk about it.”

In fact, he himself didn't want to talk about it. You may not know it, but it left as much of an impression on him as it did on you. And he blames himself for it every day.

“Oh, I think we do. “ you challenge him.

Jimin pauses, the memories reliving in his mind, as if he doesn't already blame himself every day thinking about them.

“I needed to go to Seoul if I wanted to keep dancing. You know that, we talked about it.”

That's not what you want to hear. And that's not what Jimin wanted to say. He just can't think straight right now.

And that's not how things happened. You know that, and so does he.

He made that decision for the two of you alone.

"You could have told me earlier... " your voice is tired. You are tired

You have repeated these same lines before.

“I tried to tell you.”

He really tried. And you don't know how much he suffered to tell you this, knowing that you would hate him forever.

You suppressed an ironic laugh. Jimin is joking today.

“Did you really try? Because to me it seemed like you waited until the last second to tell me.” your eyes don't leave his.

You want to see what face he'll make, what excuse he'll use this time.

Silence again.

You're both hurt too much. And Jimin understands your side, but he wanted you to understand his too.

You feel like you don't need to relive it. It was too much. What happened, happened. And now you need to be adults enough to put it behind you and work together.

You no longer feel like having this conversation anymore. Maybe you’re running away from your problems, but you can’t help it.

“Look, I don't feel like talking about this anymore.” You start to fix your bag. “ You don't have to worry, I won't ruin our working relationship.” You stand up and Jimin follows you with pleading eyes.

You ignore him.

He calls your name.

“Please, let me explain better.” His hand goes up to the table towards you, as if he were going to hold you.

But he stops halfway and closes it into a fist.

“You already explained.” you give a forced smile.”I'll see you on Monday at work.” and you walk away from him.

Your heart was crushed into a thousand pieces again. Tears wanted to form in the corners of your eyes. But you weren't going to humiliate yourself to the point of crying in front of him. Not again.

You walked to the cashier and paid your bill before leaving the coffee shop.

You practically ran to the parking lot and got into your car. As soon as you sat down, the tears started to fall violently.

You felt like an idiot for your actions. You wished this conversation had gone differently. You wished you had been more mature and not exploded in front of him.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you rested your head on the steering wheel.

This wasn't how things were supposed to be.

Jimin puts both hands on his face, covering his eyes and lowers his head. This was not the direction he expected the conversation to take.

“Stupid.” He says to himself. Because this is how he feels after this conversation.

There was no point in rehearsing this conversation a million times in his head. It didn't go as planned at all.

He had been thinking about explaining everything to you since the beginning. And finally telling you how much he missed you and how his life no longer made sense without you in it.

As soon as Jimin got home, he took off his clothes and threw himself on the bed. His head hurt, along with his entire body.

It's been a while since he's had a full night's rest. And the exhausting routine of rehearsals and performances has drained all the energy from his body, as well as his mind.

He was taken by surprise when he found out that his chief had hired a new advertising company. And he was even more surprised when he found out the name of the person who would be in charge of helping him personally. Jimin thought that life couldn't be more difficult for him. However, he saw a new hope emerge in the darkness that was his life.

He knew you worked for that company. He just didn't have the courage to admit that he was still looking for things about you, after all these years.

Jimin thought that you could finally get along, now that you were going to work together. Maybe he could explain to you everything he felt over the years, how he got lost in this world and doesn't know how to find himself anymore.

Unfortunately, things aren’t that simple.

He really hurt you. And Jimin can’t demand that you forgive him.

His phone vibrates with a message. Taehyung is asking how the date between the two of you went.

Jimin closes his eyes. It was a disaster.

It's been a few days since Jimin and Taehyung started talking more often again. They started chatting until the conversation turned to you. Jimin ended up telling you about the new surprise at work and asked if Taehyung still talked to you. Taehyung said that you were still friends and that you hung out a lot.

Jimin felt sad because honestly, it seems like people kept their bonds despite life, it was only him who had drifted away from almost everyone.

This wasn't right and he knew it. But for today it was enough.

“You need to talk to me.”

Yuna is sitting on the couch at your house after you called her, crying. She knows why and she knows what you went to do today. But since she arrived 30 minutes ago, you haven't said a word other than crying.

Your heart is tight in your chest and you feel a lump in your throat, even after you've cried a lot. Your eyes are already swollen enough to be starting to bother you and your nose is completely blocked.

“I don't know what to say. " Your voice comes out strange through your blocked nose and you almost laugh at how pathetic you sound now.

“Well, start by telling me how your conversation went.”

Yuna is patient and you are eternally grateful for that. It's no wonder she's been your best girl friend since high school when you two met.

You start telling her about your short but torturous conversation. In fact, it can't even be considered a conversation, since you barely talked about what really mattered. You blame yourself for that.

“I think I was very intolerant. I shouldn't have let myself get carried away by emotions.”

You cry a little more, but not as violently as before. Your body is already tired of crying, although you still feel hurt.

“You don't have to blame yourself for feeling things. It's been a long time since you last saw each other.”

Yuna is so good to you. But you feel like you're in the wrong and that you did something wrong.

“Still. I felt so angry at him because-”

“Because you still like him.”

She cut you off mid-sentence and your heart skipped a beat at her words. It made no sense to you after all these years.

“But it's been so many years... I don't even know who he is anymore.”

“Well, it doesn't matter. You're clearly affected by him again.”

Have you ever stopped being affected?

You feel stupid.

And your life feels like a joke. To be more specific, it feels like your life is a circus and you are the clown.

“I feel so stupid for being like this.”

A few more cold tears fall from your eyes and Yuna gets up to get you a tissue.

“Don't talk like that. You're not an idiot.”

“What kind of person still likes a guy who dumped her? An idiot.”

She sits up straighter and looks at you seriously. Here she comes.

“A person who has feelings so strong that they don't just go away.”

She hands you the tissue with determination and you accept it.

“That's bullshit”

“It's not bullshit. That's what makes you, you. That's one of the reasons people like you so much.”

Maybe she's right, but you're in a wave of self-pity that doesn't allow you to agree with her.

“I don't think so…”

Yuna sighs loudly.

“Ugh, stop being so stubborn. Let's have some wine.”

She's already getting up and walking towards her kitchen counter.

“I can't drink wine.”

“Why not? You don't work tomorrow.”

You realize you don't have a damn excuse not to drink the wine, so you huff and Yuna laughs knowing she's won.

You just feel like a crybaby. You want things to be resolved without having to be in such a painful way.

At least the weekend will be a good time for you to process everything that happened and prepare for another week of work with Jimin.

Clothes. Accessories. Makeup. Photo set.

You run around helping organize everything for the big publicity event that Jimin will be doing this morning. So far, everything is going as planned. And you try at all costs not to be in the same room as him, even though that is an almost impossible task.

Jimin is going to do some photos for this well-known magazine and this will help a lot to promote his image and the upcoming performances he will do. You helped him get this opportunity and set up the whole shoot, along with the photographers. What you don't understand is why Minah sent you with him. Your job was to stay behind the scenes, organize everything and run away from him.

But it seems that Minah has other plans. She has been making you accompany Jimin everywhere she can. Minah is smart, she must have already realized that there is something wrong with the two of you.

You finish eating your lunch with a sigh, checking the time on your cell phone screen. You hurry to brush your teeth and get back to work.

You enter Jimin's dressing room, where the entire team is constantly circulating. But now everything is quiet and you don't see anyone.

“Hey, is anyone here?”

As soon as you finish speaking, Jimin appears with a surprised expression, and without a shirt! He comes out of the bathroom.

You get scared and for a few seconds your eyes roam over his body. You want to kill him. Why is he so handsome and attractive? You can't understand.

“Is everything okay?”

You have to hate him. That's the only way you can handle this. You can't give him the satisfaction of having you drool over him like a teenager. Not again.

“Y-yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Jimin's surprised face has already disappeared and he's acting like nothing happened. You try to ignore him.

You’re looking for your bag to put your toothpaste and toothbrush in, but you can’t find them. You fidget with the couch cushions a little nervously, because you want to get out of there quickly and not be alone with Jimin for too long.

“It's over there.”

His voice comes from behind you. Very close. You get a fright and move away. He's still shirtless and this time you scolded him not only in your head.

You're not thinking straight.

“Why are you naked?”

You sound harsh and Jimin frowns.

“I'm not naked.”

You get mad because there's no real reason for you to be mad with him. Just the fact that you're completely shaken by him being shirtless so close to you.

“Just put on a damn shirt.”

You are not being rational, but your actions are faster than your thoughts.

“Why are you acting like this? It's just a shirt.”

Jimin is slightly stressed and you can tell. You think he has no right to. Not when you can't admit the reason you're so mad: the fact that he's so damn gorgeous like this.

“What's so hard about covering yourself up, Park? I don't want to see you.”

You try to be functional and look for your bag, but your head doesn't seem to work when Jimin is so close.

“Well, you were the one who came in here.”

You look at him again.

You feel like punching him.

“Well, I work here!”

“What will your boss think if she sees you treating the client like that?”

Oh, he doesn't dare.

He's being a scoundrel.

“You want to know the truth? I'd rather not even be working on this with you!”

You spit the words in his face and Jimin stays silent. Maybe you went too far, but it's too late now.

Maybe you were too hasty in saying that you wouldn't ruin your relationship at work. Things were spiraling out of control faster than you had anticipated. It had only been two weeks and this was already happening...

You feel stupid. You told him, to his face, that you wouldn't ruin your work relationship. And now look at it. You've already screwed it up and you've barely gotten started.

His gaze is dead. You feel the sparkle is gone. You feel guilty.

“Okay…”

Jimin walks away from you and goes to the other side of the room, to a clothes rack, to look for the next outfit he's going to wear.

You can tell he's annoyed by the way he forcefully passes each hanger of clothes. His shoulders are tense and it's only now that you've noticed that he has a tattoo of the phases of the moon on his back.

With Jimin far enough away from you that you can't smell his incredible perfume or see his honey skin that drives you crazy, you can think straight. You sigh audibly and try to improve the situation, after all your job depends on it, you can't forget.

“I'm sorry. That was rude.”

He keeps his back to you.

“It's okay. I got the message.”

Now you start to feel guilty about what you said.

Jimin continues to search through the clothes rack and the only thing you can do is stare at his back. You notice the other tattoos he has now, something he didn't have when you were close. You want to know the origin of each one and what they mean to him. You wanted to know all the things about him.

You finally find your bag, which was right in front of your eyes. You feel extremely embarrassed.

When you turn around, Jimin is already wearing a white shirt with a black harness over it. He looks gorgeous.

You hate him even more. Because despite everything, you can't find him ugly. But you wish you could find him ugly and not at all attractive. Things could be easier that way.

The other employees start arriving to organize everything for the photoshoot.

You talk to some people who are responsible for creating the media and give them guidance on what should be done for later divulgation. You already have everything organized in a notebook, how you will divulgate each thing.

You try to focus on that: the professional scheme you've created for Jimin's image. You try to focus on the fact that this is just another job and try to forget who he is.

You are invited to watch the photoshoot and, honestly, you didn't want to. But you had nothing else to do at the moment so it would be a little weird to refuse.

In a separate room, the set is all set up for him. The photographers are already organized in their places. You knew that the theme of this photoshoot would be “the truth untold”, but you didn’t quite understand what that meant.

In the ready-made set, there was something that looked like a cage and Jimin positioned himself in the middle. Jimin is wearing a mask and has ribbons holding his arms, as if he were a puppet. A melody starts playing to guide him in the photos that have already started to be taken.

The melody also has sounds similar to a squirming doll and Jimin follows the rhythm without missing a beat, squirming in the restraints that are holding him.

After a few minutes of this, Jimin finally manages to get rid of the restraints and then he slowly takes off his mask. Several photos are taken at this moment. His face is so different from what you usually see that your heart skips a few beats. He seems very focused on what he is doing and exudes a lot of emotion.

His gaze is heavy and you feel as if he is indeed tied up and finally breaking free. You almost lose your breath as they take pictures of him. And the back of your neck starts to sweat a little despite the air conditioning.

After this part of the photoshoot, everything happens very quickly. The makeup artists come to touch up his makeup while Jimin gets rid of his clothes and puts on another one.

Even though he's not completely naked, it still feels wrong to watch him change like that in front of everyone. You snap out of your trance after watching him and try to get out of Jimin's field of vision.

The next set is called "rebirth" but you can't take it anymore. You catch a glimpse of his outfit, which is a mix of white and black, as if he's slowly being painted white.

You can't help but think that all these sets and clothe have some deeper meaning behind them. And your head is spinning with all the possibilities.

You head to the restroom to get some air, because it's going to be a long day if you keep this up.

A week had passed since that day, and you still hadn't talked.

“Look, I don't want to be mean to you. You know I only want the best for you. “ Minah says.

Sitting at the restaurant table, you can already anticipate what she's going to say.

“But speaking as your boss, I need you to resolve whatever situation is happening between you and Jimin.”

Your heart sinks. You never imagined you would have to hear this from her. Things have gotten so out of hand that even Minah can sense the discomfort between the two of you.

Although she hasn't seen you two interacting in person, someone probably ended up telling her how things are between you. And internally you hate yourself for letting this show so easily, at the same time as you hate your gossipy colleagues.

“I understand…”

“I don't know what happened between you two..., but I really wish you could get along. You are the best employee I have.”

You feel a little uncomfortable with her words, but deep down you understand what she means. Minah is being practical. And what matters now is business, not your personal relationship with Jimin.

“I promise it's not big deal.”

You try to pretend, but Minah has known you for years. She knows you don't talk much about your personal problems, but she can tell by the changes in your mood. And she's definitely noticed the uncomfortable way you've been acting every time you have to interact with Jimin. Or when she asks you to work with him all the time.

She's worried about you.

“I noticed, you know?”

She's still eating her lunch, sitting in front of you.

You listen attentively.

“You two kind of don't know how to act around each other. It's funny to watch from the outside, really.” she giggles, but you can't follow along.

She continues.

“As your friend, I think this is funny and would like to know more. But as your boss, I need this to improve. People will start to notice.”

And you know it's true.

There's no way you can work together several days a week, several hours a day, without someone noticing and commenting on how you're rude to him every time you talk.

Or how you hate being around him because all you've wanted to do is be around him all these years.

“So... are you going to tell me what happened?”she looks deep into your eyes.

You eat your food. Without any desire.

You decide that you are going to tell her. Not everything, but something.

“We kind of had this thing…”

You start, but you don't know how to continue. You don't even know what your relationship really was.

Minah is looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue.

“Were you guys dating?”

“No, I mean- it was complicated.”

She nods and continues eating.

“The point is: things didn't end very well and... we haven't talked about it since.”

You try to chew your food.

“How long has it been?”

“About 5 years.”

She looks at you in surprise.

“Were you really that young?”

You nod and give a humorless laugh.

Yeah, really young...

“Wow... I thought it was something recent.”

You're embarrassed. Any self-respecting adult would have gotten over this nonsense by now. But you can't.

Jimin was too much a part of your life for you to simply forget him as if he were nothing.

“Well, it clearly affected you. I can tell from afar.”

Minah raises her eyebrows a little as she says this.

“Yeah…”

You can't finish your food anymore and she notices. What a bummer, you wish you weren't so transparent.

“Damn, girl. He really messed you up, huh?”

What she said was far from funny, but the tone she used made you laugh somehow, and Minah ended up laughing along with you.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Somehow you feel a little lighter after telling her this. Even though she doesn't know the details, it's enough for her to understand that you two had a complicated relationship and that it's affecting things a little now.

In any case, you can't forget the fact that you urgently need to change your relationship. It is no longer a matter of personal fights, it is a professional matter.

“But…” she pauses a little and chooses her words carefully ”I thought artists like him couldn't date.”

A piece of your heart broke at her words. Is there any part of it still whole?

“He wasn't famous yet.”

Minah looked at you for a few seconds until she understood. Her face became sad.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get into a sensitive topic.”

“It's okay. It's been years anyway.”

It's not okay. But you don't feel comfortable enough to say it. It's best to keep it inside for now.

You feel relieved when you finish lunch and head back to the agency.

But you feel uncomfortable the rest of the day. You can't help but think that everything that's been happening in the last few days just makes you remember more and more what your goodbye was like.

After all these years of suppressing these feelings and trying to move on despite them, it now feels like your life and your sanity are being put to the test. Being constantly reminded of these events, even though almost no one knows about everything that happened, has taken away your peace.

You wonder if this affects Jimin as much as it affects you. You wonder if he thinks about you every time he kisses someone. You wonder if he remembers you two every time he sleeps with someone. Because you think about him every time you do, even if you'd die for it not to happen.

Every time you kiss someone, your mind makes sure to remind you that your first kiss was with him. Every time you have sex with someone, your mind makes even more of a point of reminding you what your first time was like and all the secret places he touched you that night.

Maybe he doesn't know it, but he ruined your life. You couldn't stop thinking about him anymore. And you don't know what you're going to do to make this situation better.

#jimin smut #bts x reader #jimin x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts au #bts x you #bts imagines #jimin x y/n #jimin x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n

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moog-rt · 10 months ago

Text

GO TO HELL [ch. 3]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Chapter Two

➨ Chapter Three

Next: Chapter Four

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

Warning(s): sudden popularity, mistakes were made (by you not me <3)

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER THREE

Well.

You finally made it on TV. Fame and fortune were nearly yours for the taking. People would be lining up outside for your autograph and maybe even just the chance to catch a glimpse of you.

The ‘Human in Hell.’

That was the headline the news broadcasters decided on. It was slapped on top of a clip of you hauling ass through the rancid streets of Hell. You were clearly panic stricken and fearing for your life, but why would the announcers care about that?.

A darn shame it was being aired live across all of Hell. Your dignity was the price you would pay for fame amongst the worst people to walk the Earth.

You were curled into yourself on the couch, unable to peel your eyes away from the screen. Vaggie was pacing behind it, muttering out profanities you didn’t know existed. And Charlie? She was doing her best to calm the both of you down. Bless her heart.

The reason you had to end your little escapade to the Morningstar Manor early was because Vaggie texted saying she had bad news. You thought perhaps her recruiting backfired or there could have been a fire in the hotel that she couldn’t put out.

You did not expect to be called back because the entirety of Hell now had you on their radar. This complicated things quite a bit as one might imagine. It was much easier to hide as a human when only a handful of people knew about you. Now, everyone’s eyes were peeled in hope of finding you.

“Look, she’s all-over social media, too,” Vaggie groaned, showing her phone screen to the two of you. She began to read off some of the posts, “Vox and Katy Killjoy are promising viewers an interview with her…There’s already bidding wars for Christ’s sake!”

“Let’s not worry too much about this…As long as we make sure she’s in her disguise when we’re out, it’ll all be okay,” Charlie said.

“They caught her on video. What if they tracked her to the hotel? They could show up any second looking for her!”

It was touching she cared so much about your well-being in this situation, but the goal was to have you back home as soon as possible. Once you were out of Hell, none of this would be a problem. You doubted demons would pass into the living world just to come after you. At that point, there was an endless number of humans to choose from.

“I don’t know…They probably would have already shown up if they knew she was here,” Charlie reasoned, and Vaggie’s pacing began to slow.

“I was able to get away from all the demons that were after me by the time I found the hotel,” you added. “No one should have been around to see me come in.”

Charlie was finally able to get Vaggie to sit, and a tense silence enveloped the three of you. Charlie was rubbing Vaggie’s arms soothingly, so you took it upon yourself to turn off the tv. There was no point in listening to it anymore. All it did was stress everyone out, and there was nothing you could really do about it. Your current plan of action remained the best.

“So how was your day, Vaggie?” you asked in hopes of breaching a more positive topic.

“Oh, right! Did you find anybody who would be interested in staying with us?” Charlie chimed in with a bright grin.

The poor girl sighed in response.

“There was one person who was interested in what we’re offering,” she began, “but he seemed more enticed by free rent than redemption…”

“That’s okay. Maybe if he spends a little time with us, the idea of redemption will start to grow on him!” Charlie sounded like she was also trying to convince herself.

“I guess…” Vaggie grumbled. “He said he might drop by tomorrow or the day after to check things out. Would that work for you guys?”

“Oh, my gosh. That would be great!” Charlie squealed, jumping up from the floor. “We have to head back to my dad’s in the morning, but any time after that would be perfect.”

“No luck today?”

“Not really,” you sighed. “We were able to look around a little bit but we ended up running into her old man.”

“And he tried interrogating her,” Charlie groaned, running her hands through her hair as the memory resurfaced. “I was so worried he would suspect something, but your emergency text totally saved us.”

“Did the disguise work at least?”

That was an excellent question. While he didn’t seem to question anything about your appearance, he still seemed suspicious. It was entirely possible he could smell your fear. You’d expect no less from a demon; they probably fed off of it. Who knows…

You should be nicer. Charlie and Vaggie certainly hadn’t given you that impression. In fact, you were pretty sure you saw one of them eating toast for breakfast. They likely had perfectly normal digestive systems.

“I think so! We’re just gonna have to make a good cover story in case he finds us again.”

The three of you began to brainstorm, losing track of time as it faded into playful conversation. There was an intermission to order food since their ‘kitchen’ still wasn’t quite ready to be used to such an extent. And eventually, you parted ways to get ready for bed.

Your arms were full after they had given you a towel and a plethora of toiletries to help scrub all the paint off of your body. When you entered your room, you were also greeted by your ‘human’ clothes, clean and neatly folded on top of your bed.

And laying on top of those was your phone.

Holy shit. You had completely forgotten you had it on you before your ass was ripped through that portal. Of course, the adrenaline rush that immediately followed your arrival in Hell didn’t help. And you were so eager to get those nasty, garbage covered clothes off, you hadn’t noticed the weight in your back pocket.

You dumped all the toiletries onto your bed to grab it.

The home screen was piled with notifications ranging from worried texts to company newsletter alerts. You began thumbing in your password to rifle through it all… but then you noticed your hand.

The paint was rubbed away.

On your fingers and wrists. There were splotches where paint was gone, revealing your natural skin underneath.

When did this happen?

Your palms were almost completely barren, likely from everything you had touched throughout the day. On the back of your hands and around your wrists, there were smaller spots where your skin was peeking through.

Like fingerprints.

You felt like you were delt a sucker punch to the gut.

Maybe…Maybe it was from your own hand. You could have been rubbing at your own wrists subconsciously. With all the stress-inducing shit going down, that wouldn’t be unlikely.

But if the paint could come off so easily…

No. You had to believe it was your own doing.

Regardless, you had to find a way to prevent it from happening again.

You opted to wait until the morning to break the bad news to Charlie and Vaggie. The two had just gone off to bed, and honestly, your nerves were getting the better of you. Your stomach was twisting in on itself as your heart pounded relentlessly against your ribs.

You would tell them. You would.

Just not right now.

More than anything, you wanted that dried up paint off of you.

Tossing your phone aside and grabbing your bathing supplies, you scrambled into the bathroom to throw the shower on. The feeling of peeling those clothes off and clambering in to let the hot water rush over your sticky body was ethereal. It was so satisfying to watch the unnatural pigment run off your skin, erasing any evidence that it may have transferred onto that man’s hands.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, hoping it would wash away your worries, as well.

Finding the will to get out of the shower was difficult. But your body was tired, as well as your mind.

Flicking the lights off, you tumbled into bed, content with its softness in that moment as the mattress and pillows consumed you entirely. You were more than ready to knock out and forget about all that had happened over the past couple of days.

You didn’t want to think about the fact you were likely being hunted by god knows how many hell-goers. You didn’t want to think about the impact the time you spent here would leave on your life in the living world. Your job, your relationships (thankfully you didn’t have a pet). More than anything, you didn’t want to think about the possibility you may never get home at all.

With a deep sigh, you rolled onto your side and felt something hard beneath your hip. You groaned as you reached down to remove it, finding the phone that you had carelessly tossed aside. It made your heart swell.

You wanted your friends. You wanted to read their texts, new and old. Hell, you wanted to see any memes or posts they may have sent you. Any semblance of normality was all you needed right now. You would take whatever you could get.

Slowly, you reached over and grabbed it. Its brightness hadn’t yet adjusted, and you squinted as you flash banged yourself.

Opening your messages, you saw Devon at the top. They said that they hoped you could see their message, that you were somehow okay.

That depends on what you consider to be ‘okay’.

Beneath them was that boy, Jack. He sounded upset. He probably thought you were ignoring his texts out of spite. His messages were a mixture of asking what was wrong and saying you were overreacting over whatever it was he had done.

You couldn’t recall him doing anything to upset you recently, so it seemed there were things you had yet to find out about. What a pain.

Your other friends that you were supposed to spend time with today were expressing their concern for your absence.

Are you coming?

Where are you?

Is everything okay?

Please respond.

It made your heart ache. You needed to let them know you were at least alive.

As soon as you started writing a message of your own, the text began to buzz. The overhead light and lamps in your room began to strobe, and pixels of red flashed across your screen as a horrible humming emanated from the phone. It sounded as if the room was filled with a swarm of bees. It was deafening.

Then you noticed those shackles.

Those red, glowing shackles that dragged you here were flickering around your wrists once more. You sat straight up, ready for them to pull you somewhere new, but then the room went dark and the noise was gone.

You could still feel the sheets beneath your knees, and when you turned on the lamp beside your bed, the room looked untouched. At the very least, you knew you hadn’t been thrown through another portal.

There was no sign that anything had happened at all.

♡

Your phone would not turn on again after that whole…event…from the night before. At most, it would crackle at you, but the screen remained black. It was possible it just died from low battery, but you weren’t paying attention to that. You wondered what the odds were that Charlie would have a compatible charger.

You could ask her about it later.

The two of you were back on the grind to find a way to access the living world. Once again, Vaggie had to hang back. They decided it would be best for someone to make the hotel slightly more presentable in case the potential patron decided to stop by that evening. A good call, in your opinion.

Beggars can’t be choosers, but their place didn’t seem particularly livable from the outside. Hence, why you thought it would be a good spot to hunker down to begin with.

You and Charlie had slipped into her dad’s place again, this time undetected. After checking out the room of relics once more and without any interruptions, you found nothing that seemed to be of use (from what you could tell, shit was written in ancient tongue).

Your next stop was library where you decided to split up in order to cover more ground.

Now, you wandered aimlessly through the towering shelves of books, unsure of where to start. Having no clue how it was all organized, you settled on the tactic of picking out books at random and letting your luck guide you.

It wasn’t going so well.

You were able to find only one or two books pertaining to the ‘mortal’ world, but neither had anything to do with accessing it. They more so covered history of civilization and travel guides once you were there.

Pulling out another book that looked to be promising, you sighed as that, too, ended up being a dud. Half an hour had easily passed since you began your search, and you were growing despondent.

You wanted to believe that there was some way to get back. Charlie and Vaggie had said so themselves. But if Charlie’s old home was your best shot, you didn’t like your odds looking anywhere else.

No matter how much you tried to stay optimistic, you couldn’t help but dwell on the possibility of being truly stuck here. Finding a way out was starting to feel like finding a needle in a haystack, especially now that you were rummaging through a library that easily held thousands of books.

You hated the thought of not being able to see your friends again. Your family. Stuck in a world where there was a target on your back for simply existing in it.

Your energy was beginning to dwindle. You were slowing down, and your heart felt so heavy.

And you hated it.

You hated the way your vision was beginning to blur and how your sunglasses were fogging up as your face grew warmer.

Your sleeve wiped away the first tear that threatened to slip past, but you were too slow for the second. It left a wet streak down your cheek before you were able to dab it away. You wanted to be careful of your makeup.

When Charlie was getting you ready earlier, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her about the paint missing from your hands. You wanted to, but every time you thought you found the courage to say it, your throat grew tight, choking you into silence.

The most you could do was suggest a setting spray or powder to make sure it really stayed put. You told her you were just worried about the possibility of it coming off. Even if you couldn’t pull the truth from your own mouth, you wanted to take whatever precautions you could.

Your precautions, it seemed, were still not enough as the paint transferred onto your sleeve. Leave it to tears to ruin a girl’s makeup. You need to find someplace with a reflection to see if you could cover it up somehow.

As if on cue, you heard Charlie walking into your aisle. You felt relieved as she could probably blend the new smudges you’d created before anyone could see them.

“Hey, sorry but do you think you could help me out real quick?” you ask as you turned to her with your hand covering your cheek.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as you were greeted not by the sight of your newest friend but her father instead.

His hands were propped up on his staff, and his eyebrows were raised nearly to his hairline. He had a smug smile on his face to compliment it. Like he had caught you in the act.

There was nothing suspicious about looking at books in a library, though. Was there?

Adjusting your sunglasses so they were back in place, you put on the most charming smile you could conjure.

‘Hi—Good morning, Mr. Morningstar!”

“Hello, again,” he hummed, tilting his head as he watched you. “I didn’t think I would be seeing you again so soon.”

“Right, uh…Well, we had to leave in such a hurry yesterday. Charlie wasn’t able to find what she came for, so we’re back!” You lifted your shoulders to appear more excited than you were. At least you weren’t lying.

His finger started tapping on his apple.

“It’s quite interesting she didn’t think to give me any heads up. Almost like she’s trying to hide something…” He looked down at the book you were still holding for a moment then back at you.

Your heartrate spiked.

“What is it you’re looking for exactly?” He walked up next to you and made an act of looking through some of the books on the shelves you had just gone through.

“Huh? Oh, I’m not completely sure what Charlie needs, but she said I was welcome to look around in here,” you said, holding the book closer to your chest in hopes of hiding its title. “But I understand it’s your library, so if you’d prefer I not be in here, I’ll leave.”

He paused. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and pressed the apple of his staff to his lips.

“Look,” he began, turning back around to face you, “you said you were relatively new here, correct?”

You nodded, unsure of where this was going.

“I don’t know how it happened, but I can imagine the change was sudden, and it can be pretty hard to accept,” he said as he made a gesture with his hand. “I don’t blame you for seeking out ways to feel like you’re still in touch with your life before.”

You looked away, tight lipped.

It was hard, but you didn’t want to have to accept it. You weren’t dead. Not yet. Which meant returning to your life before was still an option for you.

“I’m very grateful to have met your daughter,” you said, shaking your head and looking back at him.

His eyes were trained on you, and it no longer felt as if he was trying to look through you or figure out your intentions. Rather, he was looking at you.

“It all would’ve been much worse for me if I hadn’t,” you continued. “She’s given me a safe place to stay and has been trying to help me in any way she can, and I feel very lucky for that.”

You looked back at him with a soft smile. Soft but genuine. Meeting Charlie and Vaggie was the only bout of good luck you’d had since being sent to Hell.

A smile grew on his face in return, and for once, you didn’t feel threatened by it.

“That makes me happy to hear,” he said. “She’s always been much too kind for a place like this.”

“I suppose so,” you chuckled. “I think that just means you did a pretty good job raising her.”

“Aha…I hope so…” he glanced away, sharp teeth beginning to peek through his lips. He then reached a hand out towards you. “May I see that book?”

Hesitating for a moment, you passed it to him. He read over the title before looking up at the endless shelves.

“Come with me,” he said, walking down the aisle.

You followed him in silence. As he turned the corner, you passed a large arched window that allowed red light to stream through. It illuminated the few specs of dust in the air, and when he walked through it, it turned his hair and skin a blush pink.

As you passed under the light, it felt as though all your prior nervousness washed away.

Yesterday, you wanted nothing more than to be as far from this man as possible.

Now, you felt at ease as he guided you through his labyrinth of a library.

He began pulling books from the shelves here and there, handing them off to you. When you looked them over, you realized they were all pertaining to the living world. You knew better than to hope he’d give you one that held the key to getting home…but what if?

You chatted with him a bit about Charlie and her hotel as you went on through the aisles. You were a little surprised by how much he didn’t know about her plans.

After a few minutes, your arms were filled with a stack almost up to your chin.

“That should do it!” he announced, turning to you with a wide grin as he brushed the dust from his hands. His eyes lingered on your face.

“Thank you so much! This is really kind of you,” you said politely. “I’ll be sure to give them back when I’m—uh…done with them!”

“No rush at all. I’ll be sure to stop by soon to see what all my dear daughter has been up to,” he said with a smirk.

You said your goodbyes and watched as he walked away. The smile adorning your face was subconscious, and your chest felt full and warm.

The weight of all the books was making your arms tired. You had yet to look at what he pulled out for you, but you could wait until you were back at the hotel to rifle through them. You probably wouldn’t be able to find anything better than what he had given you, so you decided to meet back up with Charlie.

She found some things that looked promising, as well. You figured she would have told you more about them if her eyes hadn’t landed on your cheek. The cheek that was out on display for the whole world to see as both your arms were full of the books her father had pulled out for you.

Next Chapter

♡ ♡ ♡

tag list: @spookysisters @for-hearthand-home @crescent-z @mixplara @juskonutoh @tinywolfiegirl @lafy-taffy @glowinthedarkbones1150

#lucifer magne #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #demon summoning #occult #charlie magne #charlie morningstar #Charlie Morningstar x Vaggie #Charlie Magne x Vaggie #i don't know their ship name my apologies #someone is famous #not in a good way :/

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simp4wom3n · 2 years ago

Text

I Miss Us

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Reader

Requested: Yes/No ~ request

Summary: After working together tore you relationship apart, a kiss scene between your two characters revived a lot of buried feelings - both good and bad. ~ Word Count: 3.576k ~ Warnings: Angsttt + Swearing

A/N: I'M BACK B*TCHESSS!! first fic back after being shadow banned and good lord I have missed writing and posting stuff for my fellow simps. But it feels amazing to be back and I hope you enjoy <3

The moment you received the phone call informing you that you would be playing Jenna's love interest in a new film was easily one of the best days of your life. Is that a little sad? maybe, but at the end of the day, you would do anything to spend more time with your girlfriend. You thought that being able to spend the time together you typically spent apart would be a blessing, something that would bring you closer.

Sadly, however, that didn't seem to be the case.

Ever since you had started dating, you became each others rocks - the shoulder to cry on and the arms to fall into after a long and hard day on set. But what you didn't know, was what either of you would do without that rock? What would you do without your favourite person sat at home, awaiting the other with open arms and a warm smile. What would happen when you both needed that support yet neither of you were capable of providing it.

Sadly, without said support, your relationship began to crumble.

Despite playing Jenna's love interest in the film, your two characters spent quite a lot of time apart, meaning you had barely seen her on set today. You were currently filming scenes for a point in the plot where her character is ignoring yours - painfully reflective of your current situation.

What you thought would be a dream has turned into somewhat of an inescapable nightmare.

Unlike what the greater audience thinks, being an actor is an incredibly draining job. With a typical day on set being over 10 hours, especially as a main character, the mental and physical exhaustion was unlike any other. With both you and Jenna being constantly exhausted, the time you spent together dwindled and you turned from two loving girlfriends, into two strangers.

It was as if all of your chemistry and love had dissipated.

Where you used to spend your free time on set together, you both now spent it alone, most likely sleeping or rehearsing a scene, so distracted by exhaustion that the girlfriend shaped void in each others hearts was no longer noticeable.

Your conversations were now emotionless and lasted less than a minute. Your intimacy had flown out the window, now only exchanging a quick smile on set and a short 'Goodnight' before you slept - still in the same bed but with what felt like miles in between.

Today was no different.

The few times you saw Jenna, you exchanged a smile, a small hello, maybe even a few more words before walking in your seperate directions. You had gotten used to it at this point. You were also completely depleted of energy so the idea of maintaining a meaningful conversation wasn't one you fancied either.

Jenna had finally wrapped filming at 11pm, something she too was used to, and made her way home to the apartment you shared with her. Unsure as to whether you were home or not, she walked in trying to make as little noise as possible. Dumping her belongings in the doorway, she sighed as she tried to blink away her exhaustion, wanting nothing more than to head straight to bed.

To her surprise, not only were you home, but you were sat cross legged on the kitchen bench, a steaming cup of tea in your hands. "Oh. Hey." she whispers, slightly startled by your presence. "How was your day?", you glance at her, almost surprised that she was talking to you. You reply with a small "Fine" before you take a sip of your tea, the steam hugging your tired features.

Despite feeling as though her legs would give out any minute in exhaustion, there was a small voice in the back of Jenna's mind that was telling her to stay and talk to you. To take the chance of going back to how you used to be, the chance you had both been ignoring.

"So... how's everything been going?" she questions apprehensively, earning a confused, almost irritated, glance from her girlfriend. You look away from her as you get down from your spot and place your mug in the sink. "I'm going to bed" you answer softly as you head towards your bedroom.

"Seriously?" she scoffs, causing your head to whip around as your eyebrows furrow. "I just want to talk to my girlfriend why is that so hard." Jenna spoke, her words coming out a bit harsher than she had intended. Your mouth opened in slight shock at her tone, "Well I'm sorry. I didn't know going to bed was a crime" you retort, glancing towards your bedroom wanting nothing more than to leave this conversation.

"I just want to talk to you! Instead your avoiding me like the fucking plague!" although what she was saying was true, your pure exhaustion uncharacteristically caused you anger to burst. "Well maybe because I don't want to talk to you!" you yell, Jenna being instantly taken back by your confession. "What do you m-" "I'm just fucking tired ok! Just leave me alone please." you instantly regret your words but it's what you felt in the moment. Where you used to search for her when you were tired, for some reason, now, all you wanted was to be alone.

You swiftly walk towards your bedroom not wanting to look at Jenna, knowing that her expression will probably break your heart. As you settle into bed, Jenna just stands there shocked. Feeling her eyes burn with tears, she sucks in a breath before exhaling slowly and following you.

Your bedroom has never been so quiet. The tension thickened as Jenna entered the dark room and saw your figure curled up on your side of the bed. Sighing again, she moved around the room to get herself ready for bed, the silence deafening.

No goodnights were exchanged.

You both simply slipped into a deep sleep, your minds, unlike your bodies, full of energy and running rampant.

Awoken, rather rudely, by your alarm, you eyes flutter open as you groan. Not only was it 7 in the morning, but you were also flooded with memories of last night, ones which instantly cause you to hide your face with your hands. 'Fuck' you mutter as you sit up, noticing Jenna isn't in the bed with you.

You used to know every last detail of her schedule, when she had to be on set, when she was supposed to wrap. Evidently those details had escaped you over the past few gruelling months as you had no idea where your girlfriend was at this point.

Groggily making your way towards the kitchen, your face drops in realisation as you are suddenly hit with what today is.

The kiss scene.

"Shit" you whisper, dragging it out as the squeeze your eyes shut in frustration. As you continue through the apartment, you notice Jenna near the doorway looking ready to leave. "Hey Jenna. Can we talk?" she immediately straightens, only now aware of your presence as you slowly approach her. "Not now" she blows you off coldly as she continues to grab her stuff, reaching for the door. "I just wanted to say I'm sor-" and she's gone, the door slamming in your face.

You kinda deserved that.

As you walk towards the set where the kiss scene was about to be shot, with your heart pounding through your chest, you attempt to steady your breathing. Your heart beating in your ears as you fidgeted with the rings that adorn your sweaty hands.

Ever since Jenna slammed the door in your face this morning, which you admittedly deserved, she had been running circles around you as you failed to think about anything other than her.

Greeting the director as you enter the set, your eyes glance towards Jenna whose back is facing you, talking to her assistant on the other side of the room. You felt a slight spark of jealously as you forced your eyes away from her and back onto the director, who was now running you through how everything was going to work.

The scene was an incredibly emotional one, sure to pull at the heart strings of the entire audience. Up until this point in the movie, Jenna's character had distanced herself from yours due to her trying to escape her feelings, leaving your character heartbroken and alone as her best-friend completely ignored her. It was in this scene that your character finally confronts Jenna's, leading to their shared confessions and their first kiss.

This was probably the most important scene of the entire film and yet you had never felt so unprepared. Sure, you knew all your lines and all your cues. But as good of an actor as you are, having to act this scene with your girlfriend who you very recently hurt was going to prove to be a definite challenge.

You only hoped you could do it justice.

"Leave me alone" "Not until you tell me what's been going on with you!" your character insists as you follow Jenna into her character's bedroom. "Nothing is going on! I'm fine" "That's bullshit and you know it" grabbing Jenna's arm you spin her around, your eyes locking with hers as you notice the suddenly little space between the two of you.

'Focus y/n' you scolded yourself inwardly as you continued reciting the script, "You have been ignoring me for weeks! and don't even try to deny it... Do you know how shitty it feels to have your best friend avoid you like the plague... I don't understand... what did I do" your eyes brim with tears as you notice Jenna's features soften, an expression you have missed on her.

"I-I don't know what to tell you" Jenna stutters as she avoids eye contact, causing you to gently rest your hands on her cheeks and guide her eyes towards yours - oh how you missed this intimacy. "Tell me what I can do to fix this... to fix us... I miss us" you whisper as you risk a glance towards her lips. "I miss us too".

At her confession, you glance towards her lips again as you unknowingly begin to lean in. With the distance between you slowly closing, your heartbeat pounds in your ears as your tongue subtly travels across your lips, your attention now purely on Jenna's.

As your noses brush together, you realise what you are doing and pull back suddenly, your hards swiftly dropping from her cheeks. Your widened eyes stare into her confused ones as you take a large step back, your mouth slightly open as you struggle to find any words. "I-I'm so sorry I don't... I don't know what I was doing I'm so sorry oh my god". Jenna just stands there, frozen in confusion, as she watches you panic, your eyes deliberately avoiding hers.

You continue to ramble and apologise as she takes a slow step towards you. When you feel her hands gently rest on your cheeks, your words catch in your throat as you look at her with tears in your eyes. Her gaze is so soft and full of warmth that you - not your character - almost feel like bursting out into tears.

It had been so long since she looked at you that way.

"I-I... I'm so sorry I shouldn't have done that." you whisper brokenly as she gently wipes away a stray tear that was sliding down your cheek. "It's ok" she whispers giving you a small smile. Shaking your head in denial, she takes a small step closer as her hands slide to the back of your neck, her hold on you growing stronger as you are once again inches from each other. "It's ok" she repeats softly as she leans in to connect your lips gently.

Letting out a soft sigh as your lips connect, your hands hesitantly slip onto her waist as you melt into the kiss. Your heart begins to pound in your chest as the feeling of her lips against yours, which had become an almost foreign feeling for you, reminds you of how much you had missed her. Knowing only a gentle and hesitant kiss is scripted, you attempt to stop yourself from deepening the kiss.

But goddamn it that was impossible.

Your grip on her waist tightens as you pull her body flush against yours. You hear Jenna softly moan as your lips continue to move against hers with a renewed urgency, desperate to make the most of the intimacy.

When your lips eventually leave hers, you slowly open your eyes only to discover hers are already open, staring at you breathlessly. You gently bite your lip as you attempt to catch your breath, you mind in a state of pure bliss as you meet Jenna's eyes - the thought of your character long gone

"Cut!"

The director's call caught you off guard. You blink rapidly as your eyes widen slightly in realisation. Your hands drop from Jenna's waist as you move away from her, your eyes diverting towards the director in an attempt to forget what just happened.

'you fucking idiot y/n why did you just do that'

'what the fuck was that... shit'

"That was excellent girls! Y/n, I love the passion and desperation you showed it was so believable. Absolutely amazing! Both of you have a short break we will call you back when we need you." That was all you needed to hear before you gave the director a small nod and a smile before you practically bolted towards your trailer.

Jenna stood frozen as she watched you run away from her, so suddenly afraid of her presence it was almost like she had burned you. Despite remaining fixed in her place, her heart was racing after she had kissed you - well, her character had kissed your character.

It had felt so real.

She couldn't believe what she was feeling, she couldn't help but think how unprofessional it was of her to allow her feelings to get in the way of her acting - especially when it comes to scenes as monumental as the one you just shot.

But it was you.

It was y/n.

The love of her life.

The one person she truly felt at home around and the only person that filled her life with so much joy.

To say the past few months had been rocky would have been an understatement, but at the end of the day, she couldn't help but love you. Sure you had hurt her feelings with the way you acted the night before, but it's not like she wasn't also at fault. You had both let work get in the way of your relationship and the kiss you just shared was the slap in the face you both needed.

Eventually coming to her senses, Jenna was quick to follow in your footsteps, walking briskly towards your trailer, determined to finally set things right - or at least get everything off of her chest.

The soft beat of three knocks on your trailer door broke you out of your thoughts as your head snapped towards the sound.

Currently curled up in a ball on your trailer couch, a steady stream of tears rolling down your cheeks, your chest ached with the idea that you had just ruined everything.

Jenna was the one thing that was always steady in your life.

Always there to catch you when you started to fall, always there to push you back up when you had fallen. And now, purely because of your stupidity and inability to control yourself, you had lost that. You couldn't even look at her as you retreated and tried to hide and avoid her like you had been for the past few months.

Just the thought of her not being in your life anymore made your heart clench.

And although you have both been distant recently, at least she was still there.

And now after the stunt you pulled only minutes ago, you truly believed that there was no way she could look at you the same. You had acted out and taken advantage of her vulnerability whilst her only intention was to do her job.

So as you hastily wiped the tears off of your cheeks, attempting to somewhat hide the fact that you had been crying your eyes out not seconds before, you approached the door expecting it to be a crew member checking up on you.

Your attempt to hide your pure shock that was no doubt written all over your face was futile as you opened the door and saw Jenna stood there, her eyes softly meeting yours.

"Hi" she spoke softly, offering you a gentle smile which caused your heart to melt slightly. "Hi" you breathe out as Jenna takes notice of your bloodshot eyes and bright red cheeks, her immediate instinct being to comfort you, but not wanting to push any boundaries she settled on giving you a knowing look as she fidgeted with her hands.

"Can I come in?" she asked as she subtly gestured into your mess of a trailer, the cleanliness of which had declined along with your relationship over the recent past. "Yeah... of course" you whisper as you break out of your surprised tranced and moved over, allowing her to come in.

You watched her eyes slowly travel around the room, taking notice of the trash littered around, the clothes and blankets thrown around the place, but one thing in particular caught her attention.

It was a framed photo of the two of you on your first date that was placed neatly on your small coffee table.

Her eyes remained fixed to the photo as you closed the door behind her and sat back down on your couch, pulling your knees to your chest in preparation for the conversation you were about to have. Tears already welling in your eyes, you looked at Jenna expectantly as her expression didn't change.

You breath caught in your throat as you followed her line of sight, noticing what she had been staring so intently at. Trying to not let your emotions get the better of you as you saw the picture, you clear your throat which causes Jenna's attention to finally leave the photo as her eyes meet yours.

Deciding the break the rather uncomfortable silence, you let your feelings come spilling out as you avert your eyes from hers, "Look..." you whisper brokenly, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I-I'm so fucking sorry for what I just did... It was messed up and I... I took advantage of you and I understand if you don't wanna talk to me again because I have been so fucking mean to you and I haven't even acknowledged you and then I go an pull shit like that I..." you rant as your tears resurface and begin cascading down your cheeks.

You are so distracted by your own rambling that you don't notice Jenna gaze softening as she slowly makes her way over to the couch and takes a seat next to you. You only notice her presence once she grasps your hands with her own warm ones, your eyes instantly meeting hers as you look up.

Your lips tremble as you duck your head, inhaling as you once again meet her eyes before brokenly whispering, "I-I'm so s-sorry", giving her your best smile before your sobs escape your throat causing you to cave in on yourself.

Jenna wraps her arms around your broken figure as she squeezes you tightly, her own tears escaping as she sees how truly broken you are. As you continue to sob into her chest, her shirt growing increasingly wet as it soaks up your tears, Jenna remains silent as she gently cradles your head and strokes your back in an attempt to comfort you.

Oh how much you missed being this close to her - although admittedly, the circumstances weren't ideal.

As your sobs began to cease, Jenna gently pulls back and places a hand on your chin to slowly lift your head up so your eyes meet hers. Embarrassed by how awful you think you look, you attempt to shake her grip, wanting to curl up into a ball and disappear, yet she keeps ahold of you as she wills you to look at her.

Just looking at her brings tears to your eyes.

"Y/n... I need you to listen to me ok?". Her lips crack into a gentle smile as you give her small nod. "There is nothing you could possibly do that would make me not want talk to you again... ok? You did nothing wrong, I need you to believe me when I say that. Sure, we both fucked up a little bit but it's nothing we can't get through. Ok?"

As you let out a small, wet chuckle at her last comment, her hands move to your cheeks as they wipe away the remaining tears that had slowly trickled down your cheeks.

Grasping her hands from your cheeks, you bring them into your lap as you give them a gentle squeeze. "I still love you" you whispered as one side of your mouth quirked up into a smile, to which Jenna reciprocated.

"I still love you too" is what she whispered in response before she gently brought you in for a kiss.

Fuck... you really missed her.

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hispg · 10 months ago

Text

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc: 4.5k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, manipulative behavior from Leon, male chauvinism, misogyny (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

An: Sorry for any grammar mistakes, it's late and i wanted to post.😭

Chapter 6: In your grasp

The day had already started off rather eclectic at the castle, with the servants working around the clock to finish the preparations for the ball that was to take place later.

Despite this, the day wasn't too busy for you, as the attention wasn't focused on you because of the ball. So you could say that everything was fine so far.

Since there was also an exquisite visitor at the castle, a close friend of the king. And someone who also had unshakeable power, worthy of a special reception.

Majesty Graham, also known as the imposing king of the United States, currently a nation with an enviable progression.

The visit had actually come as a surprise, as no one in the castle had expected the sudden appearance. The excuse was that important matters had to be sorted out with King Leonardo, matters that no one knew for sure what they were about, but they did seem to be important.

Despite the discretion that was maintained so that both Kings could talk, the walls had ears, literally. It wasn't hard to find some of the maidens sneaking into the corridors so that they could overhear the conversation.

After all, nothing about royalty could be kept secret for long, as old-fashioned as that may sound. That's the price you pay for being in the royal spotlight all the time.

And since the day was already too quiet for you, what could be better than listening to some of the maids' gossip? Surely you could understand why Majesty Graham was here in the first place.

So you did, taking slow, silent steps through the corridors, listening to the buzz coming from a more secluded corner, and then you saw the maids whispering among themselves, some smiling, others a little nervous, and some others seemed to be daydreaming. What could it be?

"God! Imagine what will happen to that man!" One of the servant girls exclaimed, looking at the others.

One of the others nodded before whispering, "Oh, what a silly idea! How can a man think of getting involved with a princess!"

So that's what it was about. You felt your heart shudder, so Ashley's father had found out about the hidden affair she was having. He just didn't know, who the man was, who subjected his daughter to this shamelessness. Oh, if he only knew.

"I heard! I heard Majesty Graham saying that he would even declare war if he found the culprit! He would be able to declare war on any kingdom!" One of the girls spoke up, putting her hand to her lips to show her exasperation at the situation.

All the others gasped, shaking their heads in denial. The ladies were just as exasperated as you were, and you couldn't help the look of confusion that appeared on your face.

How could this have happened? Leon wouldn't be so careless as to leave something out in the open like that, it wasn't something he would do. After all, it had been going on for years, so how could it have reached the majesty's ears?

You knew that King Leonardo would do his best to hide any clues that led to his son, he had the money and influence to do so. But how long would this situation remain under wraps? Perhaps this was the push to end the situation once and for all, and you were going to do everything possible to make it happen.

It might have been petty, but you couldn't let anything stand in the way of your marriage. That's what good brides did, they looked after their families and their husbands, so you were only doing the right thing.

If Ashley's father was still at the castle talking to King Leonard, then you could make a small appearance at this gathering. You even had the perfect idea of how to sneak into the room where the two men were talking, and it would also be the perfect cue to get Leon to put an end to this once and for all, or at least to get some respect from him.

But there was still something on your mind, would it be worth it? Would that be enough for Leon to see you as a woman? Or rather, as his wife?

You didn't know if it was right or wrong, but given the prince's latest attitudes lately, you couldn't let him keep doing whatever he wanted to you.

That kiss? It was able to send your emotions soaring, even though you wanted to deny it with all your soul, you couldn't even say that it had no effect on you.

Several times you found yourself wondering what it would be like if it were real, if it would feel like to have his lips on yours, even once, but you wanted it to be genuine. That it was something from inside his soul, that he felt something.

But you were already getting used to the idea that it was a silly dream, or maybe you'd have to sacrifice even more for this man, who knows, maybe with some little way out you could turn this situation in your favor?

And when several ideas started popping into your head, you had the brilliant idea of making this extramarital affair you had with Leon open, and you already knew perfectly well what the king's reaction would be.

The first thing that came to mind was the letter that Ashley had given Leon with the flowers, and you still had possession of that little letter. So why not give it to the king? Surely you could have imagined King Leon's furious reaction to knowing that his son was so indiscreet about this affair.

As you walked to your room, you saw a vase of flowers that had been placed in the hallway, they looked fresh, just so you could make your little scene even more intriguing. But of course you would only be the poor damsel in distress, the poor wife who was being betrayed.

Once you'd entered your chambers, you then went in search of the letter you'd kept so carefully. The same letter that made your blood boil just remembering the whole occasion. And you weren't just referring to the flowers you'd received, but to the situation as a whole.

And since Leon was basically inhibiting Chris's presence around you, it was only right to give him a taste of his own poison. You hid the letter in your hands, carrying the small, delicate vase of flowers in your hand, straight to the king's chambers. When you arrived at the entrance door, you straightened your posture and straightened your dress, making yourself perfectly presentable to the king.

It was then that you knocked twice on the door, only to be greeted with a 'come in' a few minutes later.

You did just that, with calm, elegant steps you made your way into the king's chamber. And there stood Majesty Graham, together with King Leonardo. You bowed politely to them both, looking at King Leonard as you held the flowers.

"Forgive the intrusion and indelicacy, Your Majesty. However, these flowers have arrived for the prince." You say, and your sentence was all it took for both men to raise their ears to hear what you had to say.

And of course you wouldn't come to talk to the most important man in the kingdom if you didn't have a reason to, and he was willing to listen to what you needed to say.

"There must have been some mistake." Leonardo said, getting up from his chair and walking over to you to inspect the flowers.

"No, Your Majesty. It even came with this little letter." You say as you hand over the piece of paper, and this makes Graham look at you both.

There was something in his gaze, and it wasn't from God. The man was already mounting his suspicions.

Leonardo then read the much-talked-about letter, his eyes widening and narrowing with every sentence, his face so red that you didn't know if he would be all right after finishing the letter. At the same moment, he looked at you, at Graham, who was already suspicious.

"I didn't understand the urgency, but the maids were in a hurry to give it to the prince." You said, in a tone that gave the perfect impression that you didn't know what it was really about.

And then you decided to add, "Oh, and there was also a certain discreetness."

That was the last straw for King Leonard to let out an audible sigh to control his nerves, and you felt the heavy gaze of Majesty Graham behind you. It was almost a silent conversation.

"Thank you, I'll give it to Leon as soon as he arrives." Leonardo says, not leaving you much room to say anything else.

You then understand that it's your time to leave, and you do so. The same bow you used to enter, you used to leave. Letting the heavy atmosphere remain between the two royals. As soon as you closed the door and left the room, you bumped into Ausdret, Leon's butler.

"Your Highness..." He says in a half bow, looking at you with a frown, as if he suspects something.

You reply with a polite smile, looking at him innocently.

"I was looking for you, princess, the prince asked me to announce his arrival." Ausdret said, and you immediately remembered that Leon had gone out for a horse ride, along with Chris. Another excuse not to leave you alone with the Duke.

"Right, where is he?" You asked, trying to hear what was going on in the King's chamber, but you could hear nothing but incomprehensible whispers.

"In his chambers, he made it clear that he wanted to see you." The butler added, making it clear that it wasn't a debate, if you didn't go to see the prince, he would come to you himself.

You just nodded and left for Leon's quarters. Since the kiss he gave you, something in the relationship had changed. Not that you could say he had any affection for you, but at least he seemed to be warmer.

Perhaps it was because the wedding was tomorrow and he wanted to make a good impression on the people attending, especially his father. At least you could use this as a small gap to try to patch up this doomed relationship, even though you have no idea what to expect, what the outcome will be.

Just as you were about to touch the handle to open the door, you heard footsteps behind you, they sounded like two people, and indeed they were. As soon as you turned around, you saw Ausdret and Leonardo, walking side by side.

Ausdret seemed to be trying to convince the king of something, and he was failing miserably, as for the king, well, his expression was as gloomy as the night. And it seemed that King Leonardo was not only walking to Leon's room, he was marching.

Each step seemed more furious than the last.

The man didn't even give you time to ask him anything, because he stormed into Leon's room himself, slamming the door shut while he talked to Leon about God knows what.

When you heard the door close, you felt so anxious that you couldn't contain yourself, and in the blink of an eye you were behind the door, listening to the conversation on the other side.

For a few minutes you only heard a few murmurs, until you could hear things clearly:

"For God's sake! Are you out of your mind?" You'd be polite to say that it wasn't a scream, as it was obviously one of the clearest shouts you'd heard in a while.

"How the hell did that get into your hands?" This time it was Leon's voice, which sounded indignant and surprised at the same time.

"No. Don't try to change the subject!" Leonardo's older voice echoed in the room once again.

Footsteps and footsteps, an uncomfortable silence, only for a loud voice to echo through the room once again.

"That's enough! This little antics of yours have gone far enough." The king's voice was serious, with no room for argument.

"Don't start. Don't ask me to-" Before he could finish, Leon's sentence was interrupted, just like that.

"It's not a request, it's an order." The king growled, his voice capable of sending shivers down your spine.

You could hear Leon trying to justify himself, but you couldn't hear anything properly, because Leornado was running over him every time, not letting the prince say anything other than a few mumbles.

"That's it! I don't want to hear any more about your recklessness! Put an end to this mess you've made of yourself!" Leonardo's sharp voice was unmistakable.

" Now then, father. I'm not a kid anymore-" And once again Leon was interrupted.

"Then act like a man! Honor what's between your legs. I won't let you destroy your future on a mere whim."

The next thing you heard was something heavy hitting the wall, it sounded like something similar to a punch.

"You're being irreverent, father." Leon says, you could sense the hatred in his voice just by his tone.

"Two days, and that's all you have to end any ties with that woman." The sentence took you aback, how far had it come? To the point where two monarchs had to argue about it.

Not only that, but Leonardo's abrupt intervention seemed to be firm, not something for the moment. He seemed destined to maintain the integrity of his kingdom.

"If you ever speak to that woman again, I will send you into exile!" You were stunned, not believing your own ears.

A father exiling his own son? It was an outrage! Was that your cue? Your chance? Or just a distraction? Something you were expecting too much.

"You wouldn't dare." It was Leon who dared to retort, despite everything, he still couldn't accept the whole situation.

Not least because he had always done everything he wanted, and now they were taking away one of the most important things he had in life.

"Don't try your luck, I hold your future in my hands." After that you heard footsteps heading for the door, and you were quick to move away and hide in a nearby corridor.

You managed to sneak into your room after all the mess, and spent the rest of the day there, thinking about the situation. What had you just done?

Afterwards, your temper rose considerably, as you honestly felt that you were being fair by playing the same game as Leon, in a fair and equal way to him.

At that moment you found yourself humming around the room, looking at yourself in the mirror as you wore that beautiful red dress, made by one of the most renowned seamstresses in the kingdom, and the dress was just as beautiful as you imagined. The fabric was soft and sophisticated, the top clinging to your upper body like a bodice. While the bottom was a large skirt, which, with all the underwire you were wearing, made it impossible not to notice how stunningly beautiful the dress was.

You didn't skimp on the jewelry either, you wore the most expensive ones you had, you were destined to be the center of attention tonight.

If not for Leon, then for Chris. Such a good person in the middle of such a mess, you couldn't let the Duke out of your sight that quickly.

When you were ready, you started towards the main hall, where Leon would be waiting for you. With light, graceful steps you made your way to the main hall, and at the same moment all eyes were on you.

The stunning princess, an almost angelic image.

And well, if your intention was to get Leon to gawk at you, well, you succeeded. He looked at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

And at the same moment, he moved towards the bottom of the stairs, wanting to get close to you quickly.

And you were drawn to him like a moth is drawn to light, you knew it would go wrong at some point that night, but you honestly couldn't care less.

Everything around you seemed to stop when you felt Leon's hand on yours, not before he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, letting his lips linger there for a short while.

It was a magnetism you couldn't explain, sometimes it even sounded stupid, but something about Leon made you severely attracted to him somehow, even if he acted in an uncordial way, something about him was mesmerizing.

"You look stunning, princess." Leon said in a whisper, giving you that gallant smile that made you weak in the knees.

You didn't know if it was a lie, if he really meant it and thought it was so, but his affectionate way made you forget all the bad things that had already happened.

This time you let it go, not wanting to think too much about whether he was being sincere or not, maybe for one night it was worth forgetting. After all, it wasn't hard to deny that you were radiant, it wasn't hard to see that something had brightened your day.

But of course you also noticed that Leon was strangely calm, which was odd given what had happened before. It wasn't hard to guess that Leon was the type to never give up so easily, so something seemed uncommon about this situation.

Perhaps he had something in mind, or perhaps he had taken his father's threat as a bluff. But in any case, he was calm, peaceful, so at peace that it was a bit of a surprise.

But if it's going to be like this, there's nothing better than enjoying the small tenderness of such a moment.

As the two of you walked around the ball to talk to the nobles, you could see Leon's incessant gaze on you, he literally watched your every gesture and movement. You didn't know what it was, but he always kept his attention on you. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel butterflies blooming in your stomach. Looking into his eyes like that reminded you of the ocean, so beautiful but also so treacherous.

In the meantime you also caught a glimpse of Chris, who was in a corner talking to a lady. Probably those dames who were desperate to find a husband, you could tell by the way the girl giggled and touched his arm every now and then.

Seeing that you were looking at Chris, even smiling at him, Leon couldn't let that happen. As a man he had to uphold his honor, so without thinking too much he pulled you in to dance with him, not asking if you wanted to or not. He just did.

You looked at him in surprise, catching yourself frowning at his sudden attitude, as well as the intimate gesture of putting his hand on your waist, in one swift movement gluing his body against yours.

"I'm lucky to have you for a wife." Leon says, his voice echoing in your ears, his warm breath caressing your skin.

Was that a fallacy or an illusion? He didn't think you'd believe it that easily. But maybe... Just maybe.

"I can say the same for you, Your Highness." You say back, keeping your tone clipped, trying to hide the effect he was beginning to have on you.

But you couldn't hide your goosebumps, your flushed cheeks and that cursed accelerated respiration.

"You're not wearing the jewelry I gave you." He notes, taking the opportunity to twirl you around the room.

You didn't wear it by coincidence, you didn't think it matched the dress you chose for tonight. But apparently he saw it differently. An insult.

"I didn't think it suited the occasion, Your Highness." You say, and you saw his lips twitch when you called him Your Highness. So much formality, for your husband?

"You should, I told you I'd like you to wear it." Of course, his demands. How could you expect anything different?

"I don't remember, forgive me." Even though you tried, there was an undertone of stubbornness in your voice. And it didn't go unnoticed by him.

He put himself even closer to you, spinning you around and over at the dance, always keeping you in his grasp, in his arms. And even with all the anguish he caused you, he was so handsome, so easy to believe in, so tempting.

You got so lost in his expressions that you didn't even notice when he took you out of the main hall, away from the curious eyes that were there. In the blink of an eye you were in one of the corridors, his gaze looking deep into your soul.

"If there's one thing I appreciate, it's a woman's loyalty. Especially yours, dear wife." Leon says, his tone laced with a certain malice, something else that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You didn't understand where the phrase came from, but you saw him glance briefly at Chris, who was on the other side of the dance. And of course you had already heard some buzz about your 'little escapade' with Chris, about the indecent things you two might have done. If only they'd known who the unfaithful one was.

"We can't ask something of someone if we can't be mutual." The words came out of your mouth in the blink of an eye, even you didn't fully expect it.

Leon's response was mockery, his face contorting into what looked like an expression of anger. But he was able to mask it afterwards.

How reckless of you to answer to your own husband, where was your manners? You should behave like a woman, not a tyrant.

"I didn't understand the insinuation, dear." He murmured, his tone so dark that it made something in you shiver.

"Forgive me. I didn't mean to insult you." You said in the calmest, most innocent voice you could muster, feigning ignorance.

At that same moment, you felt Leon pushing you against the wall, both his hands gripped around your waist. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.

"Don't worry, I believe it was naïve of you." He says calmly, that look that was once cold becoming something more.

The haughty façade was giving way to his controlling and manipulative side. It wasn't in Leon's nature to accept things just like that, not now and not ever.

He gave a cynical little smile, pushing you a little further against the wall, his fingers tightening around your waist. The way he looked at you gave you such shivers.

It felt like you were looking at the ocean, that captivating shade of blue in his eyes, as if you were admiring the depths of the waters.

"There's something you should have learned by now, princess." He whispered, his voice bringing out something in you, a warmth rising in your body, a foreign feeling.

You found yourself blushing, biting your lip as you stared at him. And that feeling of warmth only increased when he moved closer, letting his lips linger on your ear.

"I always gamble to win," he said, making your goosebumps rise as he breathed on your ear, "and I always win."

It was the last thing he said, taking the opportunity to kiss your earlobe, you could see him smiling in the corner as he watched your reaction.

He had you in the palm of his hand at that moment, he knew that very well.

"There's always a first time for everything..." You manage to say back, trying somehow to be as bold as him.

But despite the harsh words, your expression gave you away completely. How could he take you seriously with you blushing so much? Your cheeks as red as strawberries. Or the way you, without the slightest intention, looked at him with sly eyes. As if you wanted to earn something.

All the reaction you got from him was a low chuckle, you felt his lips come down to your jaw, so close to your neck that he couldn't help himself, and he let your sweet smell into his nostrils.

"No, darling. I don't think you understand." He says more firmly, this time letting his free hand grip your chin, forcing your gaze to focus on him.

"I never lose. No matter what it costs me." This line of his could imply so many things, you felt your thinking was all out of place.

Was he doing it out of a sense of competition? Because he didn't want to lose to Chris? Or maybe because he wanted to have ownership over something that wasn't his. You.

He didn't like losing, and probably wanted to keep you in his clutches whatever the cost. If he had you in the palm of his hand, he'd have access to a more than healthy kingdom, just as if he had an obedient wife, he'd have no problems.

A wife who would give him heirs, stay with him in good and bad, in sickness and in health, waiting for him while he cared for the crowd. So perfect.

But oh, he was so wrong if he thought you would fulfill that role. So damn wrong.

As you looked at each other like that, you smiled a little, letting your hand rest on his forearm.

"We have something in common, Your Highness." You say calmly, looking at him tensely.

Once he opened his mouth to speak, you indelicately spoke over him, "I'm not in the habit of losing either."

That was that, the disagreement was more than exposed.

Cheeky, disdainful, petulant and impolite. That's how you were acting, far from any decency you had been taught.

You watched as Leon stuck his tongue in his teeth, glaring at you in a defiant manner.

"You need better manners, dear. Maybe you should remember how a woman should act." God knows how that sentence made your blood rise, but it did.

But the look in his eyes said so many things, it was so convincing, not least because he knew that you would be his tomorrow, whether you wanted to be or not.

Not least because he was your future husband, wasn't he?

The dance would continue, and so would the evening. The roles of husband and wife duly filled, painful words veiled in the sweetness of love.

You might have hated him, but there was no escape. So much so that you thought nothing of it, and once again he led you to dance in that ballroom.

The journey was far from over, as was all your frustration. Because he wouldn't let you leave his side.

No, you'd be with him all night. Romantic? Maybe to the blind eye of the real situation, but oh, that's what you're here for, isn't it?

Continue the theater, people are watching.

Taglist: @gollumsmygel, @quemmysworld, @loveoverdosing, @delulusimps, @d3jecteddoll, @kennedyleyy, @acriixys, @deredvv, @luminehallowss

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut

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