#i love fics that make me angry like yes make me FEEL things i am eating the angst whole
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grimalkinmessor · 2 years ago
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I love reading fics where Light is less evil and going through terrible angst and pain because it gives me fuel to then go use my incandescent rage (affectionate) to write my own fics where Light is twice as evil and having the time of his fucking life
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stllmnstr · 1 month ago
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sure thing – part one.
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pairing: yang jungwon x f reader
genre: coworkers au, underground boxer jungwon
part one word count: 12.9k
warnings: swearing, descriptions/depictions of physical violence, blood and minor injuries, jealousy, a bit of a love triangle I’m SORRY, blonde boxer jungwon because yes I think that does warrant a warning, I had to split this into 2 parts because post block limit got me everyone say BOOOOO TUMBLR!!!!!!
note: this is what happens when you watch the no doubt music video and then also listen to too much chase atlantic. ALSO let me duck before the sacred monsters readers start throwing tomatoes at me I PROMISE I am working on part 4 I just... had this idea and it would not leave me alone. but cheers to another fantastic enhypen release (daydream and no doubt are both on repeat for meeeeee) and to my first jungwon fic. enjoy!
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An employee in the marketing department of a large company, your days are filled with poorly worded emails, unrealistic deadlines, and passive aggressive friendly reminders from your superiors. On a particularly awful afternoon, a chance encounter with a coworker from the programming department down the hall is the first thing to make you smile in weeks.
But the more you uncover about Yang Jungwon and his mysterious injuries, flimsy excuses, and always occupied Friday nights, the more you begin to realize that you really don’t know him at all.
⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖
The printer is jammed.
It takes a very exaggerated eye roll and an embarrassing amount of self control to refrain from kicking the damn thing. Besides, you’re pretty sure your previous wording was too kind. 
Because a more accurate depiction of the situation would be:
The printer is jammed. Again. 
You’re not sure which cruel deity is responsible for the creation of Monday afternoons, but you’re sure they’re laughing at you now. Dressed in business casual and praying against all odds that the clock hanging on the office wall will start ticking a little faster, you almost wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Spare you from your misery 
And it’s not like a jammed printer is the end of the world. From a logical, unbiased point of view, you’re sure it’s nothing but a small, easily solvable problem. 
But it’s four pm on a Monday afternoon and you’ve had back-to-back meetings since you clocked in at eight this morning. The only real break you had lasted twelve minutes. Most of which were spent dabbing coffee stains from your blouse after Terry from accounting knocked into you in the staff kitchen. 
Your head is pounding and your feet are aching and your bladder is overly full and your left bra strap is starting to dig into your shoulder in a way that is entirely too overstimulating. 
And you really, really just need this report to print. 
After all, your boss made it very clear that you would not be clocking out for the day, no matter what hour of the evening it is, until said document is laid on his desk. Never mind the fact that you weren’t made aware of this demand until a handful of hours ago. 
So yeah, the printer jamming – again – does kind of feel like the end of the world. 
The screen is still flashing with an angry reminder to fix the paper jam in Tray 2. The instructions are starting to blur a little as you furiously blink away hot tears. 
You won’t cry at work. You won’t.
But your exhaustion is catching up with you, and the first thing it usually takes with it is your control over your emotions. 
The more you try to will them away, the more insistently they want to escape. 
Bent over the printer, you’re in the middle of trying to dislodge a particularly stubborn piece of A4 when the first tear finally does escape. It falls in a thick, wet train down the length of your cheek, settling for a moment at the base of your chin before dripping, a little pathetically, right onto the stack of papers in the printer tray. 
Your hands go slack on the sheet you’re warring with. 
For a moment, all you can do is sigh. Hang your head and hope some higher power takes pity on you. 
Stressed, burnt out, overworked. This was not how you thought you’d be spending your early twenties. But a salary is a salary, and fighting with an inanimate object on the worst day of the week keeps your lights on and your stomach full. 
Hunched over, you’re suddenly glad that the printer is kept in a separate room outside of the main office space. That there are no witnesses to your slightly pathetic meltdown.
Save for a few, it’s not like you care all that much about what your coworkers think of you. But the last thing you need to add to this day is a fresh bout of humiliation. 
Just one more minute, you tell yourself. One more minute of silence before you pull yourself together and finish dislodging the stupid piece of paper. 
It must be at least 4:10 by now, which means you have less than an hour to go. You can do it. You can. You just need one more minute of silen–
“Everything okay?” 
The sudden intrusion is so startling that your head jerks up in a subconscious reaction. Only, of course, to be met with the open printer tray you’re currently trying to troubleshoot. 
The clunk that echoes through the tiny printer room as your temple comes in direct contact with hard plastic is almost as loud as it is painful. 
“Ah,” you wince, hand instinctively flying to the side of your head. 
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, ____.” You’re not sure if your hesitation comes from embarrassment or the fact that you head is still spinning. Either way, you’re slow to move as you look up at your sudden audience. 
Over your shoulder, Yang Jungwon has nothing but apologies written all over his delicate features. Brow pulling into a concerned frown, he’s quick to kneel to your level. 
If anyone was going to find you like this, you suppose you’re glad it was him. A recent hire fresh out of university, Jungwon has carved out a quiet kind of reputation for himself in the office. 
His presence isn’t commanding, but it is steady. The kind of person that you never see get worked up or angry or even annoyed no matter how many last minute deadlines are assigned or how many printers get jammed when he really needs to use them. 
And from what you’ve gathered, he mostly keeps to himself. It’s not from a lack of effort on your coworkers’ behalf. You know firsthand that he’s been invited to multiple post work gatherings and weekend events. 
His popularity doesn’t exactly surprise you. Even with his quiet demeanor, he has a striking presence. One that makes you curious, leaves you wanting to know more. 
Never mind the fact that he’s absolutely gorgeous. 
Still, despite their efforts, you also know that he’s politely declined each and every invitation without ever giving any real explanation. 
In all honesty, you’ve always just assumed there was a girlfriend he was eager to run home to. 
But even that is nothing more than a mindless assumption. After all, you’ve only had a few interactions with him, and nothing beyond the typical small talk all office workers develop a talent for. 
Even now, he makes the simple button down and slacks he’s wearing look like they came right from a runway. 
You’re not quite sure why, but it almost makes you want to cry harder. 
At the very least, you’re pretty sure you don’t need to worry about rumors of you having a minor meltdown in the printer room spreading through the office. Jungwon might be a hot topic of office gossip, but he’s not one to spread it.
“I am so sorry,” he repeats, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” His words are spilling out a bit too fast, blurring into each other around the edges. “I just saw you in here, and I couldn’t tell if you were okay or not, so I wanted to–”
“Jungwon,” you interrupt. There’s no kind way of telling him that his rambling is only making your headache worse. That it’s only making your tears fall faster. Instead, you abet his misplaced guilt. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
A bit shakily, you muster up your most convincing smile. But your smudged mascara, slightly puffy eyelids, and still visible tear track suggest otherwise. 
Jungwon’s brow just pulls together a little further. “Are you sure?” He’s unconvinced. Taking a wary glance at the printer tray, he looks back to you with concern in his eyes. “That sounded like it hurt.”
“Really,” you force another weak smile. “I’m sure.”
“Can I at least take a look at it?” Guilt is still written plain as day across his face. 
Assuming he’s referring to the printer, you nod before taking one big scooch to the side. Within the confines of this tiny room, it only puts you closer to him. 
And it takes less than a second for you to realize your assumption was wrong. Because Jungwon doesn’t reach for that stupid piece of A4 still jammed inside Tray 2 or even the printer tray that just nearly concussed you. 
No, instead, his long fingers trek a steady path towards your hand. The one that still rests against your temple. Gently, he pries it away, replacing it with his own careful touch.
You’re all but immobile as gentle fingers press lightly against the side of your face, adjusting it slightly. His fingers are cool, soothing as he turns your injury towards the overhead light. 
Pliant in his hands, it’s all you can do to watch as his brow furrows in concentration, eyes scanning over your skin. Taking the skin of your bottom lip between your teeth, you pray he doesn’t notice the sudden heat in your cheeks. 
From this angle, with this proximity, you can practically count his eyelashes. They’re long, you notice. Long and wispy where they frame his dark eyes. 
“No broken skin,” he finally asserts. You can feel his breath against your skin. It takes nearly all your concentration to suppress the shiver that threatens to trace your spine. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if it bruises. There’s a bit of swelling, too. Keep an eye on it these next few days, and let me know if it doesn’t go down on its own.” 
You’re not exactly sure if Jungwon – quiet, gentle Jungwon – would be the first person you’d go to for first aid advice, but you nod anyway. 
And you’re not sure where it comes from, the sudden urge to cry again. But somewhere between the pain in your head and the soft probing of his fingers against your skin, emotions are starting to bubble beneath your stoic facade. 
It’s subtle, barely perceivable, but you can feel your bottom lip beginning to quiver. 
Much to your unending humiliation, you’re not the only one who notices. 
You’re not sure how he does, but he does. 
“Hey,” Jungwon tries. His hand is still on your face. His voice is impossibly soft, and it only makes you want to cry harder. You feel like a skittish kitten he’s trying to lure in from a rainstorm. 
His lips part as if he’s going to continue. They fall shut again before he can. 
Something in his brow softens. Concern is replaced with empathy. 
Hand falling back to his side, he suddenly changes the subject. “You’re in the marketing department, right?”
Lips still trembling, you turn your eyes towards the floor before giving him a small nod.  
From this angle, the only thing you see are his shoes. Standard leather work shoes, they’re slightly scuffed where they rest against the carpet. 
They still look formal, of course. Nothing that would raise any eyebrows in a professional setting. And from far away, you’re sure they appear pristine. 
But from this close, you can make out all sorts of rough edges. Little marks and dents and scuffs that serve as evidence of where he’s been. 
“Why don’t you head home for the day,” Jungwon suggests gently from above you. “I’ll let your team and your supervisor know that you’re not feeling well.” 
You take a deep breath, do your best to make sure your voice is steady before you respond. Shaking your head, you point out, “It’s almost the end of the day anyway–”
“Exactly,” Jungown nods, kind but firm. “There’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”
“Actually,” you grimace, trying not to let the truth inspire another round of tears. “I need the report I was trying to print. I have to turn it in before I leave today.”
There’s a beat of silence. You’re worried that Jungwon will keep offering you too much kindness, so you rush to fill it. “It’s fine, though. I think the paper jam is almost fixed, and I already sent the report to the printer, so I’m sure it will come through in a minute–”
“Perfect,” Jungwon interrupts again. “I’ll take it to your boss, then. Alan, right? I’ve spoken with him before. I’ll also let him know that you went home for the day.”
“Jungwon, you don’t have to–”
“I know.” At the interruption, your eyes snap back to him. There’s an intensity in his eyes when you match his gaze. Something so sincere that it’s hard to look away. Even though you know your eyes are still shiny with tears you wish you’d hidden better. Even if the stress and exhaustion and weariness are probably written plain as day across your features.
“I know,” he repeats. “I want to. Go home and get some rest, okay?”
It’s probably stupid, to agree so easily. But something in his eyes has you believing, even if just for a moment, that everything will be just fine if you do what he suggests. That all of your concerns and worries will work themselves out and you’ll be able to come into the office tomorrow feeling refreshed for once. For the first time in a long time. 
So you nod. You let him help you up off the floor and don’t bother hiding your face as you wipe the last of your unshed tears from your eyelashes. It probably only smudges your mascara further, but you can’t find it in yourself to care about that, either. 
The printer is still jammed and your report isn’t turned in and you’ll have to walk past your entire team back to your desk to get your things on your way out. 
But for this fleeting moment, those worries feel small. Distant. Manageable. Able to be tucked away and saved for later. 
You still don’t know much about Jungwon. The only knowledge you have comes from speculation and wishful thinking. But now, more than ever, you really wish you knew something of substance. 
But you have no idea how to tell him that. Don’t know if you even should. So instead, you say what you can. 
“Thank you, Jungwon.”
For a moment, all he does is smile. It’s small, but it reaches his eyes. Makes them sparkle a little brighter. 
His voice, like the rest of him, is gentle when he says, “Sure thing, ___.”
…..
Despite the fact that it accounts for roughly eighty percent of your job, you prefer to avoid your email inbox like the plague. 
Most days, by the time you do get around to checking it, it’s already jam packed with unreasonable requests and last-minute changes and passive aggressive friendly reminders from your superiors. 
When you sit down at your desk on Tuesday morning, you’re extra reluctant. After the printer fiasco yesterday, you’re feeling particularly sensitive to all of the potential bullshit. And you have the distinct feeling that a rather nasty message about leaving the office early unannounced is surely waiting for you. 
But the inevitable can only be delayed so long. With a wince and a final swig of coffee, you muster the courage to give the mail icon on your desktop a double click. 
The top of your inbox is filled with the usual nonsense. A request for a meeting tomorrow morning on a project idea you’ve had finalized for months. An RSVP form for the optional, but highly encouraged, upcoming staff party. A reminder from your boss that final quarterly reports need to be submitted by Friday at the latest. 
A few lines down, though, something out of the ordinary catches your eye. Checking the time stamp, you see that it was sent right as the day started. 
Subject: Printer Issue Follow-Up
Contemplating for a moment, you frown. The first floor of Vesselsoft is no stranger to printer jams. They’re typical occurrences, not major problems to be resolved via email. You didn’t think there was a printer issue to follow up on. 
But it’s far more intriguing than anything else on your work account. So, ignoring all of the other messages, you open the email from Jungwon. 
Good morning ____, 
I hope you’re doing well. I wanted to let you know that the workroom printer jam has been fixed, and your report was delivered safe and sound yesterday evening. I also wanted to check in and see how your head is feeling. 
Best, 
Jungwon
You reread it. Once. Twice. 
It’s a simple message, all things considered. But it has you searching for subtext where there likely isn’t any. If anything, this serves as a confirmation of what you already knew about Jungwon. 
He’s kind. Considerate. The type of person that would help you fix a jammed printer and check in on you the next morning. Right when he clocks in. 
The type that could probably tell that your head was the least of your concerns yesterday, but still chooses to ask how you’re doing  without drawing excess attention to it. 
For a moment, you almost wish he would make a habit of attending after hours work events. You have the distinct feeling that sucking up to your superiors would be a little less awful if someone like him was around to do it with you. 
From: You
Subject: Re: Printer Issue Follow-Up
Good morning Jungwon, 
Thank you for resolving that printer issue! And thank you for checking in. My head is feeling much better today. 
Thanks again, 
____
After a final once over, you press the send button, watching as the animation shows the message flying out from your inbox. 
You imagine it flying into his. It’s subconscious, the way you start to picture what his face will look like when he sees it. 
You know he’s in the programming department, which is on the same floor as your office. Honestly, you’re a bit surprised you haven't seen him around more. 
Will he smile, you wonder. Will he have that same, gentle fondness in his eyes he seems to carry with him everywhere?
You don’t get an answer to that particular question, but you do learn that Jungwon is an incredibly prompt communicator. 
It’s barely been ten minutes before your inbox is chiming again. 
Subject: Re: Printer Issue Follow-Up
Sure thing, ___. Glad to hear it. 
Jungwon
You can’t hide the small smile that threatens to turn the corners of your lips upward. It’s not like he’s done anything particularly groundbreaking. But even bits of kindness have become a bit of a rarity for you these days.
You can’t think of anyone else in the office that would insist on sending you home thirty minutes early and offer to finish up your work for you. You can’t think of anyone else who would have navigated yesterday’s fiasco with as much gentle care as he did.
You can’t remember the last time someone bothered to consider you. To lighten your load when they noticed you starting to sink under the weight of it. 
So you’re smiling. Despite the fact that it’s still a Tuesday morning and you have a long week ahead of you. Despite the fact that you’re still very much locked into a job you mostly despise. 
Mentally, you make a note to give some gesture of your gratitude. To do something that will brighten his day a bit, too. 
But you don’t know him. Don’t know how he takes his coffee or if he has a favorite brand of ballpoint pen or if he could use an extra favor from someone in the marketing department. All the sorts of things that coworkers do to show a little bit of appreciation. 
But the universe, at least in part, seems to be on your side today. 
When you head into the staff kitchen for your mid-morning coffee refill, you find it already occupied. 
It’s a bit ridiculous, the way you suddenly feel flustered. Have the urge to smooth your hair, fix your blouse. 
He has his back turned to you, and it takes you nearly half a minute of contemplation to decide whether or not to say something. In the end, the decision is made for you. 
Your phone lights up with an urgent request that you check over the second half of the report you – well, Jungwon – submitted last night. 
Sighing, you turn away from the kitchen. Your second cup of coffee, and a conversation with a certain programmer, will just have to wait. 
You do, however, notice one last thing before you go. Watching silently, you can’t help but smile a bit as you watch Jungwon add two sugar packets to his mug. 
Sweet, you think. Just like him. And now you have at least one bit of information to work with. 
After submitting the edits on your report, you decide to use your recently earned knowledge. Deciding that he’s worth the splurge, you open the delivery page of the cafe down the street, the one that’s ridiculously overpriced but undoubtedly makes the best coffee in the area. 
And when you order it in his name, a hot coffee with two sugars, you ask the barista to attach a note. 
Thank you again for yesterday. I hope this is how you like your coffee! 
An hour later, your inbox chimes with another message. 
Subject: Thank You
You’re too kind, ____. Thank you for the coffee. How did you know just how I like it?
All the best, 
Jungwon
If his words make you smile a little too hard, well, you figure no one ever has to know. 
The universe, however, would seem to have other plans. 
Of everyone in the marketing department, you find your coworker Grace to be the most bearable. A few years older than you, she was by far the most welcoming when you joined the team. 
And you have the sneaking suspicion she has just as much disdain for your supervisor as you, even if the two of you have never openly discussed it. 
Unfortunately, she does have the fatal flaw of never being able to finish her work day without getting herself involved in someone else’s business. For the most part, you’re spared from her nosiness. 
Mostly because your life doesn’t carry the same flair for drama that she loves most. But today, she decides to give it a shot anyway. 
Standing behind your office chair, she nearly startles you out of your seat when she asks, “Who’s got you smiling like that?”
Closing the email as quickly as you can, you turn to face her. 
“No one.” It’s too rushed, too evasive. She sees right through it. 
“Mhmm.” 
Heat rising in your cheeks, you double down. “No, really.” Scrambling for a lie, your eyes land on one of your desk photos. One that shows your childhood cat, affectionately named Mr. Snuggles by your elementary school self. “I just heard from the vet that my cat is feeling a lot better. I was worried she was really sick.”
It’s a bold faced lie. Mr. Snuggles has been dead since your third year of high school. 
“Ah,” Grace says. Her features fall slightly as she realizes she won’t be getting a worthy scoop from you. Realizing that’s probably not an appropriate reaction, she forces a smile. “That’s great! I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks,” you nod, hoping it will mark the end of the conversation. 
But Grace isn’t quite ready to let it go. “That does remind me, though. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
Uh oh. 
“You’re not seeing anyone, right?” You’re not sure how a sick cat would remind her of your dating life, but you suppose there are larger mysteries to be solved. 
And on second consideration – oh. Is it really that obvious? “No,” the syllable drags as you attempt to tread carefully. “Why?”
Grace shrugs, but the conversation feels more calculated than nonchalant. “I was at my friend’s baby shower a couple of weeks ago, and her younger brother just moved back to the city. He’s been living abroad since high school. He’s around your age and a total catch. I didn’t talk to him much, but he reminded me of you a bit. I think the two of you would get on.” 
“Oh,” is all you say. Your uncertainty must be written all over your features, because Grace is quick to continue.
“No pressure, of course. But let me know if you’d like me to pass his number along.”
Do you? It’s been ages since you went on a date. And even longer since you went on a date with someone you’d describe as a total catch. 
And apparently, your single-ness is painfully visible to the people around you if Grace was able to pick up on it so easily. 
Besides, it might be nice, you think. To have a conversation with someone that isn’t about quarterly reports or upcoming deadlines or jammed printers. 
But then your mind wanders to the last conversation you had about a jammed printer. To a set of pretty, dark eyes and a pair of gentle hands. 
To a string of email conversations that don’t really mean anything. But you almost wish they did. 
It’s messy, you think. Far from ideal. JUngwon might not be in your department, but he still works just down the hall. Inter company relationships aren’t forbidden, but they do carry a certain amount of risk.
Jungwon isn’t petty. He wouldn’t make your life a living hell if things were to end badly. But you might start feeling awkward in the staff kitchen and you might have to start timing your walks to the parking lot so that they don’t coincide with his.
Small adjustments. Minor inconveniences more than anything.
Besides, it’s all conjecture. 
You can count the conversations you’ve had with Jungwon on your fingers, and the majority have been channeled through your work email. 
It’s hardly romantic. 
But even as you try to see things from a detached, logical perspective, one thought keeps swimming back to you.
You think you could talk about jammed printers forever, as long as it was with him. 
Sighing, your heart can’t decide if it wants to sink to your stomach or crawl up your throat at the realization. 
Turning back to Grace, you just offer her a tight smile. “I’ll let you know.”
…..
In the coming weeks, your coincidental run-ins with Jungwon start to become more and more frequent. 
First, it’s the two of you just so happening to need a coffee refill at the same time. When your path cross in the staff kitchen, you raise an eyebrow at the sugar packets he adds to his mug and he shakes his head as you take a long sip of your plain, bitter drink of choice. 
Then, it’s the morning in the parking lot when the two of you just so happen to arrive at the same time, pulling into adjacent parking spots. His smile is gentle, albeit a bit sleepy, when he bids you, “Good morning.” 
Your heart flutters a bit when you return the sentiment. You do your best to ignore it. 
Next, you stumble across him in the staircase on an otherwise quiet afternoon. This time, however, he’s already deep in another conversation. Or, you realize at second glance, trying very hard to wiggle his way out of another conversation. 
For all intents and purposes, Jenna from the legal department is a sweet girl. A bit overbearing at times and doesn’t always take well to being told no, but she’s harmless for the most part. Smart and driven and you admit a little glumly, quite pretty. 
Even underneath the overhead fluorescents in the stairway, she manages to avoid looking washed out. 
They’re already talking by the time you get there, and the only thing you catch is the tail end of their rather one-sided conversation. 
“It’s a great place, really,” Jenna insists, smiling a little too brightly. “And the food is to die for. They’re always running really unique specials. I think you’d really like it.”
And you could just turn around and pretend not to have seen anything. You could just take the elevator instead. In fact, you probably should. 
But suddenly, it’s as if your shoes have been filled with lead. Feet frozen to the earth, all you can do is watch. 
“Oh,” Jungwon reaches for the back of his neck. “Thanks for thinking of me, Jenna, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”
“Oh, really?” she pouts. “Is there another night that would work bett–”
“Jungwon!” Your voice is too loud, reverberating off the walls of the stairway in a way that has two pairs of eyes immediately darting towards you. And interrupting had seemed like a good idea a few seconds ago, but now you realize your fatal mistake. 
You have no plan. No idea what to say next. 
Still, you force a smile. “Just the person I was looking for.”
You don’t think you’re imagining it, the immediate wash of relief that colors Jungwon’s features. 
“Hey, ___,” Jenna waves, a bit dejectedly. She doesn’t exactly look pleased to see you, and you can’t really blame her. “Could you give us a minute? I was just in the middle of–”
“Sorry, Jenna,” you shake your head. “This is kind of urgent.”
“Right,” Jungwon nods, looking at you again. “We’d better go then.”
“But I–”
“See you around, Jenna.” You’re tone is too bright as you spin around, making a beeline back towards the door. A flicker of satisfaction warms in your chest when you realize Jungwon is right on your heels. 
He waits until the two of you are back in the empty hallway, closed door serving as a barrier between you and Jenna, before he speaks. 
Looking at you, he quirks his head to the side. “So, what’s the urgent thing you need help with?”
Oh. Right. 
Sighing, you decide honesty, or at least partial honesty, might be your best bet. 
“Sorry,” your smile is sheepish, “did I read that wrong? There’s nothing urgent. I just…” you trail off, searching for the words. “It just looked like you might have needed an exit.”
For a moment, he says nothing. The silence gives your mind too much room to spin
Maybe you did read things wrong. Maybe he was enjoying a perfectly pleasant conversation with perfectly pleasant Jenna. Maybe he was looking forward to going to a nice restaurant with her and trying all sorts of unique specials and–
“Thank you.”
“What?”
Jungwon’s eyes soften. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost describe his expression as… fondness. “An exit,” he clarifies. “I did need one. So thank you.”
“Right.” Your voice is suddenly breathless, and you can’t think of a good excuse for it. Feigning a nonchalance you don’t feel, you wave off his gratitude, “Anytime.” 
“Careful,” Jungwon warns, but the same hint of teasing, the same glimmer of affection, is still there. “I just might take you up on that.” 
“It’s a good thing I meant it, then.”
Jungwon’s features soften into a smile. A small one, meant just for the two of you. Reaching up, he pushes a stray strand of hair from his eyes. 
It’s only natural that you follow the movement. His hands are nice, you think. Long, lithe fingers, and–
You frown, eyes zeroing in on the knuckles of his right hand. 
Bruises, you realize. Dark, purple bruises span the length of his knuckles. Angry and mottled and from what you can tell, recent. 
And so many. You can’t imagine what he could have possibly done to earn them. 
Gaze still trained on the injury, your eyes widen. “Are you okay?”
It’s Jungwon’s turn to be confused. “What?”
“Your hand,” you nod at it. “Are those bruises?”
“Oh.” He shrugs, brushes it off like it’s nothing. But his hand falls to his side, obscured from your sight, all the same. “Yeah, I just slipped the other day trying to hang a picture in my apartment. The frame caught me funny when it fell.”
“You… slipped.”
Your disbelief must be apparent, because Jungwon is quick to add, “My hand slipped, really. My phone started ringing, and it caught me off guard.”
“Ouch,” you grimace. “That sounds like it hurt.”
Again, Jungwon shrugs. But his eyes are doing that thing again. Sparkling. “It’s not so bad.”
“Still,” you insist. “You should be more careful.”
“Yeah,” Jungwon agrees. It’s just the two of you, alone in a dimly lit hallway. His gaze is trained on yours. The distance between you is respectable, appropriate. Suggests that the two of you are coworkers and nothing more. But you have the distinct feeling that he’s not entirely talking about hanging pictures when he says, “I probably should.”
…..
The next morning, Grace is the first person you see as you walk into the office. And she’s already waiting for you. As soon as you come in, she hands you a coffee with an apologetic smile. 
“Uh oh.” You hang your coat, accepting the cup from her hands. It’s not unusual to receive coffee from a coworker, but it usually comes as a form of consolation. “What’s this for?”
“It’s from Alan, actually.”
Your lips flatten. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“It’s not that bad, really.” Grace’s smile is less than convincing. “He just wants us all to get together this Friday night after work at that bar down the street. Y’know, to network.”
You groan internally. There go your plans for a relaxing Friday at home. 
“How is it networking if it’s just our team? We see each other every day.”
“That’s the other part,” Grace nods towards the cup in your hand. “Didn’t you notice he pulled out all the stops? That’s from the shop down the road. The one that charges eleven dollars for a small latte.”
“Oh god,” you groan, this time audibly. “What else does he want?”
“We’ve all been strongly encouraged to invite people from different teams around the company.”
You suppress a strong urge to roll your eyes. “Of course we have.”
Privately, you think that if Alan wants to network so bad, he should be responsible for creating the guest list himself. Outwardly, you just sigh. 
As if you didn’t have enough on your plate already. Now you need to schmooze some other poor employee into wasting their Friday night talking about work. 
Sitting down at your desk, you take a sip of your coffee. It is admittedly delicious. The thought only makes you want to bang your head on your keyboard even more. 
The problem of finding a plus one follows you all the way through the afternoon. All the way to the workroom, where you once again stumble into a certain blonde programmer that’s beginning to feel like part of your daily routine. 
This time, Jungwon is alone. 
He’s frowning at the printer, brow furrowed. 
“Don’t tell me it’s jammed.” 
When he sees that it’s you, his features immediately soften. He smiles and something tugs at your heart. It’s enough to have you forgetting about Friday night, even if just for a moment. 
“No, thankfully. My computer just doesn’t seem to want to connect to this printer.”
“Mm,” you hum. “Send it to me, and I’ll try printing from mine.”
Jungwon shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll just go up to the accounting department and try their printer.”
“Jungwon,” you level him with a look. “You are the last person to be telling me I don’t have to do you a favor. It’s really no problem. Just send it over.”
“Okay,” he finally relents. 
Waiting for it to ping through on your end, an idea suddenly strikes you. You’re not sure if it’s a good one or if your judgment is starting to be warped by all of the toner cartridge fumes, but here, in a quiet workroom with nothing but Jungwon and a half-working printer to keep you company, you find a bit of your bravery. 
“I know this probably isn’t your idea of a perfect evening,” you start. Your words feel too loud in this tiny space. “But the marketing team is getting together after work for drinks this Friday night. We’re also encouraged to branch outside of our department and invite other company employees, so if you’re free, we’d love to have you.” The more you say, the worse it sounds to your own ears. Why would anyone, much less Jungwon, want to come to a work event for the marketing team. Suddenly embarrassed you even brought it up, you find yourself rambling. “The bar is actually pretty nice. It’s not super fancy or anything, but it has, uh, really great chandeliers. It’s a nice ambience, and–”
“___.” Jungwon interrupts with the sound of your name. 
“Yeah?” You’re trying not to sound too hopeful, but you have the distinct feeling that you fail miserably. Despite your hesitance, you realize something. 
You want him to say yes. 
You want him to give you a different response than he gives everyone else. A different response than he gave Jenna. 
You want him to say yes, even though no one wants to go to a work event for the marketing team on a Friday night. 
You want him to say yes anyway, because it’s you. 
“I’d love to, really.” He reaches up, scratching at the back of his neck. “But I’m busy Friday night.”
Short. Succinct. To the point. He doesn’t spare any extra details. 
You already knew it was a long shot. But it stings all the same. 
You wanted to be the exception to the rule. Someone that would finally get him to say yes. Or at the very least, someone he would bother to give an actual reason for his absence to. 
“Oh.” Your voice is smaller than you mean for it to be. “Of course!” And now it’s too loud, too bright. You can’t find the happy medium, can’t find your natural tone. “I’m sure whatever it is will be way more fun, anyway.”
Jungwon just gives you a small smile, not bothering to affirm or refute your assumption. Not deigning to add any more details. 
It kind of makes you wish that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. 
“Well, I should probably get back to my desk.” You don’t know why you’re scrambling for excuses. Jungwon clearly doesn’t feel the need to provide any. “Did everything print okay?” You nod towards the small stack of papers in his hands. 
Jungwon is still looking at you. His lips part, as if he wants to say something. Brow creased, it’s as if he’s at war with himself. As if he can’t decide what to say or how to say it. 
After a beat, his mouth falls shut again. He gives a minute shake of his head. You watch as his hair sways in time with the movement. 
“Yeah,” he tells you. But he still hasn’t bothered to look down at the document between his fingers. “Everything printed fine.” 
“Okay.” You nod again. “Good.” Your voice sounds hollow in your ears. “Well, I’ll see you around, then.”
I’ll see you around?
I’ll see you around?
It takes all of your willpower not to cringe outwardly. It’s the most awkward, stilted thing you could have possibly said, but you’re not sure how else to fill the stifling silence. 
“Of course,” Jungwon nods. “Have a good day, ____.” The worst part is that he looks like he genuinely means it. “And enjoy your Friday night.”
“Right.” Your smile is feeble, doesn’t reach your eyes. “You too.” 
You’re so caught up in your own humiliation that you don’t notice the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes either. “Sure thing.”
…..
Changing your clothes in the last stall of the office bathroom kind of feels like a new low for you. But by the time Friday evening comes around, the last thing you want to do is attend a mandatory – scratch that, highly encouraged – work event at a bar still wearing your blazer and slacks. 
The jeans and sweater you replace them with are still nice by any standard, but they’ll feel a bit less stifling after a handful of drinks. 
Grace, at least, seems to have the same idea. Deciding she’s by far the most bearable person of the evening, you slide down next to her in the booth. 
Of course, that thought only makes you think of another person you’d invited. Someone whose absence feels especially notable as you nurse the remnants of your first cocktail. 
You don’t really want to get drunk tonight. You don’t want to be here at all. 
You put in your forty hours of work this week, and the only place you want to be is at home in a pair of sweatpants. 
The only person that would have made it a little more worth it made it very clear that he had better things to do. The details of which, of course, he didn’t bother to share. 
The thought spurs you to take another long sip. 
You don’t want to get drunk. But you don’t want to think about him either. 
Besides, Grace doesn’t seem to share your reservations. 
It’s barely been forty minutes when she pulls out her phone, thoroughly tipsy, and decides that you are the best person to help her sort through her list of matches on her favorite dating app. 
“He’s cute, right?” She flashes her phone screen towards you. 
He is. You nod and tell her as much. 
His eyes might not sparkle very much. And his hair might not fall perfectly over his forehead. And he might not furrow his eyebrow in concentration whenever the printer in the workroom gives him a hard time –
No. 
Tonight is not about him. He made it very clear that he had no interest in being here tonight, and the last thing you’re going to do is spend the evening fixated on him. 
Grace, at least, seems willing to help on that front. 
“Oh,” she suddenly interjects from your side. “That reminds me. I’ve been meaning to show you a picture of my friend’s brother. You know, the one I mentioned a couple of weeks ago?”
It’s a bad idea, probably. You’re still feeling slighted and bitter and no matter how many times you tell it not to, your mind keeps wandering to Jungwon. 
Despite your reluctance, the cocktails are catching up with you. There’s a pleasant, slightly numb haze in your mind. It makes resistance feel futile. 
All you do is nod, and Grace starts searching for his social media profile. It takes her a few more tries than it would sober, but she does eventually find it. 
“Here,” she says, offering her phone to you. “His name is Jay. He grew up here until he left to go to an international high school. He’s been living abroad ever since, but he recently moved back. Their dad is pretty high up at a software development company. I think he came back because he landed a job there too.” 
You do your best to absorb the information, to nod along with what she says, but in all honesty, you’re quite distracted. 
Jay is quite distracting. His feed is well-curated without being overbearing. Covered in travel photos, unbelievably flattering candid shots, and stunning nature pictures, he immediately piques your interest. 
Not to mention the fact that he’s stunning. Maybe not quite as stunning as –
No. Again, you refuse to go there. 
You’re not sure if it’s the drinks or the photos or the spite that makes it suddenly feel like a good idea, but you’re telling Grace to pass your number along to Jay before you can think better of it. 
And if nothing else, at least he doesn’t seem like the kind of person that will make you wonder. Or even wait for long. 
You’ve barely gotten home, mind mostly clear even if it is still a bit muddled from the exhaustion of a long week, when your phone screen lights up with a notification. 
It’s just a string of numbers for now, but you’re quick to create a new contact. 
Hey, the message reads. This is Jay. Grace gave me your number. I hope that’s alright!
A few seconds later, another text comes through. 
Jay: How do you feel about art exhibitions? There’s one opening this weekend right next to one of the best coffee spots in the city. I’d love for you to join me. 
It’s simple. Straightforward. Not something you’ll search for subtext or pick apart for weeks. 
And it’s easy to respond to. 
You: That sounds great! I’ll look forward to it
…..
Another week at work passes with the same monotonous, sluggish flow as any other. But this time, it’s interspersed with messages you’ve started to look forward to. 
You’ve just sat down with your third cup of coffee on Monday morning when the first one chimes through. 
Jay: Good morning, ___. I hope your Monday is off to a better start than mine. 
A second message comes through. This one is an image. One that unmistakably shows a stack of papers covered in a dark brown stain you recognize all too well. 
You: Oh no! 
Pausing for a moment, your teeth worry at your bottom lip. Deciding to go for it, you send your own picture in return. 
The image of your full coffee cup goes through, along with another message. 
You: I think it might be. My coffee is still in my cup, at least
It takes him less than a minute to respond. 
Jay: Black coffee! Oh, you mean business. I’ll deny it if you tell anyone, but I always have to add sugar and cream to mine. 
You can’t help the smile that starts to spread over your lips. Sugar and cream. An aversion to bitterness. It reminds you of someone else that always adds a little sweetness to their –
Shaking your head, you force the comparison away. Putting the other man firmly out of mind, you decide to return Jay’s lighthearted message with one of your own.
You: Don’t tell anyone, but this is my third cup of the morning. 
Jay: Third cup of straight black coffee. Whew, remind me not to get on your bad side today. 
Jay: Speaking of which, do you always drink it black or could you be persuaded into something a little sweeter? 
He’s talking about coffee, yes, but it feels just a little bit like flirting. Biting at your lip again, you decide there isn’t much to lose.
Besides, it’s kind of… fun. You can’t remember the last time you were well and truly flirted with. 
You: Depends who’s asking
Jay: Hmm
Jay: I’ll have to work on my persuasion skills then
Jay: The place I’m taking you to on Saturday has an insanely delicious caramel latte, and I need to know what you think of it
You: Tempting
You: But I’m not sure I’m convinced 
Jay: I’ll work on that, then
You can’t hide your smile this time. 
A minute later, two more texts ping through. 
Jay: Duty calls, unfortunately
Jay: The rest of my Monday is stacked, so if I am slow to respond to any messages, that’s why. Enjoy the rest of your day, ___
He’s straightforward. Communicative. You appreciate the notice. The fact that if you do send another message without a response, you won’t have to waste your day wondering why. 
You: Ugh, don’t you hate it when you actually have to work at work?
You: I hope all goes well! Enjoy the rest of your day too, Jay
Setting your phone down, you return your gaze to your computer screen and unfortunately very full inbox. 
Your focus, however, remains half-occupied by a message thread sitting dormant on your tucked away phone. 
…..
Jay’s messages begin to become a highlight of your work day. Despite the fact that there’s often a large lapse in time due to both of your busy schedules, you start to anticipate every text he manages to send. 
And they only serve to build more excitement around your upcoming date. 
By the time Thursday comes around, you’ve all but mentally clocked out for the week. Refilling your water bottle in the staff kitchen, your mind is so occupied that you almost run right into the person coming through the door the same time you’re leaving. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was–”
“___.” The sound of your name stops you in your tracks. “Breathe,” Jungwon is smiling, but there’s a hint of concern there, too. “You’re okay.”
“Jungwon,” you exhale. Your frantic apology begins to subside, replaced by an overwhelming surge of self-consciousness as you tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 
You haven’t spoken to him, haven’t even seen him, since he rejected your invitation last Friday. 
He’s not trying to pick at old wounds, but it still stings a bit when he asks, “How was Friday?”
“Oh, you know,” you shrug, “It was a typical work gathering.” Then again, it occurs to you that he might not know. Since he never bothers attending any of them. 
Not that it really matters. Besides, you’re lying a bit anyway. Typical work gatherings don’t usually end with you setting up a date. Not that you want Jungwon to know about that either. 
You can't pinpoint exactly why, but the thought of him knowing doesn’t sit with you quite right. Besides, it’s not like he’s ever shown any interest in your personal life, anyway. He would find it weird, most likely. Annoying, if you were to divulge any details. 
“Oh, well, I’m sorry again that I couldn’t come.” Just like that day in the workroom, he reaches back to scratch at his neck. You have the distinct sense that he’s the one who suddenly feels a bit awkward. “Friday nights are…” he trails off, “Friday nights are hard for me, usually. I’m always pretty free on Saturday mornings, thought, so if–”
“Don’t worry about it.” Oh god. Your intention certainly wasn’t to make him feel guilty for having a social life outside of the office. Suddenly worried that you read the situation all wrong, you’re quick to assure him, “You don’t have to come to anything that you don’t want to. And especially if you have plans already. I just asked you because my supervisor wanted us to invite people from other departments.”
If his face falls slightly, you’re too caught up in your own rambling to notice. 
“And, you know,” you continue, “since you helped me that day with the printer.” 
“The printer,” he echoes, voice suddenly hollow. “Right.”
“Right,” you echo. The room falls into silence again, and this time, it’s weighted with a horrible awkwardness neither of you can shake. 
“Well,” you finally say, holding up your bottle. “I got my water, so I’m gonna head back to my desk.”
“Yeah,” Jungwon nods. “Okay.”
“I’ll see you around?” It’s just as stilted as it was before, but you’re desperate for any way to exit this conversation. 
“Yeah,” Jungwon repeats. “Sure thing, ___.”
…..
By the time Saturday morning comes, you’re a mess of anticipation and frayed nerves. 
You’re early to arrive at the address of the coffee shop Jay sent you a few nights ago, but he’s already there waiting for you. And his social media might have painted an impressive picture, but one look tells you that it still doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. 
Jay is gorgeous.
Almost as gorgeous as –
You kill the thought as soon as it comes. This day isn’t about him, and comparisons will do you little good. 
Instead, you refocus on your date. 
He’s polished and put together in an effortless sort of way. The kind of person that you see once in passing and then can’t stop thinking about for the rest of the week. His features are angular, sharp. But they soften into a warm smile the second he lays eyes on you. 
In the end, it doesn’t take him much convincing at all to persuade you to try the caramel latte. And he’s right. It is absolutely delicious.  
It was easy to fall into a natural rhythm over text, and your face-to-face conversation flows even better. 
He tells you about life abroad and all of his favorite parts of living in another country. He tells you about his family and what he missed most about this city he’s learning to call home again. 
He listens, actively, while you tell him the more mundane details of your own life. His questions are well-timed and never feel like interruptions. 
His kindness doesn’t feel like a facade. His interest doesn’t feel like a cheap trick to get what he wants from you and then disappear without a word. 
And when it becomes painfully apparent at the art exhibition that he’s far more well-versed in the subject than you, he doesn’t make you feel stupid. Instead, he takes his time explaining each piece. Highlights the aspects that would be most interesting to someone without any kind of background in art. 
He’s kind, considerate, and the day passes by in a blur of fleeting glances and shy smiles. At the end of it, he offers to drive you home and opens your car door for you. Small gestures that make you feel seen, considered. Valued. 
When he says goodbye with a hug that doesn’t last nearly long enough, the smell of his cologne is something you hope will linger as long as the memories of the day do. 
It’s easy, you think, as you watch his car drive away from your window. Jay is someone that’s easy to be around, to spend time with. 
And when he messages you later that night, reiterating his enjoyment of the day and asking to meet again, he’s easy to say yes to. 
…..
You’re not sure how, but the only person that seems even more excited than you about you and Jay is Grace. 
Despite the fact that your communication as of late hasn’t involved anything scandalous, she feels the need to rehash every detail until she’s heard it one hundred times. 
It doesn’t matter how many times you tell her that the last text message he sent you wasn’t anything to swoon over. In fact, it was rather short and unexciting. 
Jay: Have you seen my ring by chance? I remember wearing it that day I was in your car, and I haven’t been able to find it since then. 
But Grace won’t hear it. You’re not exactly sure what she heard from Jay’s sister, but she spends the rest of the coming week hounding you over the details regardless. 
The staff kitchen is hardly the place for conversations about your personal life, but the setting doesn’t seem to bother her at all. Instead, she pretends to be busy washing an already clean coffee mug while she asks again, “So you went out for the first time last Saturday, right?”
“Mhm,” you nod. 
“And then you got dinner together Wednesday night after work?”
“Yep.” You’re pretty sure she’s already asked the same question at least six times. 
“And he’s planning to take you out again this Saturday?”
“Right.”
“My god, you two are practically married.” She punctuates the absurd claim with a wistful sigh. 
“We most certainly are not.” 
“Okay, but you literally just met, and you’ve already seen each other twice with plans for a third.”
She does have a point there. Never mind the fact that you haven’t dated anyone in a while. It is a quick timeline, no matter how you look at it. But you’ve been itching to spend time with him ever since your first date, and Jay seems to be on the same page. 
It feels fast, yes, but it doesn’t feel forced. For you, that’s what matters most. 
That, along with the fact that a certain someone has been noticeably absent from your mind the more time you spend with him. For now, you’ll choose not to read too much into that. 
“God,” Grace sighs again. “I miss going on dates.”
“What are you talking about? Didn’t you go on one a couple weeks ago?” You distinctly remember helping her set it up that night at the bar after work.
“Well, yeah, but I mean good dates. You know, getting properly wined and dined and all that. I guess I’ll just have to live vicariously through you.” 
“We went to dinner once, and there was hardly any wine involved.”
She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. All I’m saying is you’re lucky to be seeing someone that actually puts in effort for your dates and doesn’t just take you to the closest bar to his office and hope that buying you a handful of drinks means he’ll get lucky.” Pausing for a moment, she looks up, eyes landing somewhere just over your shoulder. “Right, Jungwon?”
Immediately, it’s as if you’ve been submerged in ice cold water. Because there’s no way she said–
“Jungwon?” Turning around, you’re put face to face with the last person you wanted to overhear this particular conversation. 
“Hey, ___.” There’s a smile on his lips. Small as always, but something feels wrong about it. “Grace,” he nods at the girl over your shoulder. “Sorry,” he’s still looking at her, “were you asking me something?”
“No, we were just leaving, actua–”
Grace pays you no attention. “Just telling ___ how lucky she is that her man actually puts effort into their dates, since it feels like such a rarity these days.”
“He is not my man.” The glare you send your coworker is lost as Jungwon turns back to you, eyes wide, gaze indecipherable. 
“You’re dating someone?”
“I…” The easy, most available answer is yes, but you’re having a hard time getting it out. And there are other semantics involved. 
Are you dating? Not really. That usually indicates some kind of commitment, exclusivity. Going on dates might be a better way to put it. But clarifying that miniscule distinction for Jungwon feels strange for some reason. 
“My friend’s brother,” Grace supplies unhelpfully from the corner. “What can I say? I’m a natural born matchmaker.” Her proud smile is lost on the both of you. You’re only looking at each other. 
“Oh.” Jungwon’s voice is small, hollow. “That’s nice. I’m happy for you.”
You want to scream, just a little bit. Or maybe cry. You can’t make up your mind. 
And you’re not sure where it comes from, the sudden, overwhelming surge of guilt that begins to build in your gut. You can’t even decipher who it’s directed towards. Towards Jungwon? Towards Jay? Towards yourself? 
Grace, despite her self-proclaimed talent for setting up dates, is apparently incredibly inept at reading the room. With no prompting but her own, she’s pushing forward. “He lived abroad for a while and just moved back to the city, which is like, the perfect scenario for going on dates. And he’s always had a flair for romance. I remember–”
“Well,” you interrupt, desperate for an out, “we better get back to the project we were working on—“
“What project?” Grace, it would seem, is determined to be anything but helpful.
“You know,” you glare at her, “our project.”
“Right!” She looks sheepish, finally catching the hint. “That project.”
Turning back to Jungwon, you can still see the rigidity of his features. The tension that has yet to ease. “I’ll…” you’re not sure how to part ways now without making things worse. But it feels wrong to just leave without saying anything. For the third time in the span of days, you tell him, “I’ll see you around.”
And for the third time, he agrees, “Yeah.” This time, however, his eyes still flickering with annoyance, shoulders still set with residual frustration. “Sure thing, ___.”
It’s what he always says, you realize. But this time, it’s missing that easygoing, genuine lightness he usually says it with. 
This time, it sounds like rejection.
Yours or his, you’re not entirely sure.
…..
You manage to avoid Jungwon for the rest of the week. It’s ironic, almost. You were so worried about pursuing a potential relationship with him because you wanted to avoid this exact scenario. 
Now, a handful of dates with someone who is very much not him tucked under your belt, you still feel the need to turn and walk the other direction whenever you think you hear his voice or get a glimpse of blonde hair. 
But the office is only so big, and there are only so many corners to duck into. Barely a week has passed the next time you unwittingly bump into him. 
“Oh,” you startle slightly, walking into the workroom and already finding it occupied. And of course you’d run into him here, of all places. Kneeling in front of the printer, his brow is furrowed in concentration as he tries to dislodge yet another paper jam. 
“Sorry.” You’re not sure what you’re apologizing for exactly, but it feels warranted regardless. “I’ll just leave, and—”
“___,” he cuts you off with the sound of your name. Looking down at him, you're met with the expanse of his back. A button down shirt tucked into dark pants. Standard work attire that has no business looking this ridiculously good on anyone. “You’re fine. You don’t need to leave. Just give me a second, and the printer’s all yours.” 
You nod, even though he can’t see you. If the lack of a verbal response bothers him, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he busies himself with the jammed printer, muscles of his back flexing slightly underneath the fabric of his shirt as he tugs at the stubborn papers. 
Cheeks heating slightly, you force your gaze elsewhere. 
“There,” he says after another minute of adjustments. Standing to full height, he turns to face you. “All fixed.”
Looking up at him, you’re about to offer a quiet thanks when your eyes land on his right cheekbone. Specifically, the fresh cut that spans the length of it. 
The gasp the spills from your lips is entirely without permission. But you can’t quite help it. The wound is quite superficial, surface level at most, but it mars his otherwise perfect skin in a way you weren’t prepared for. 
Without your permission, your fingers start to reach towards the injury. They make it halfway before you remember yourself, before you regain your sense of reality. Your hand falls limply back to your side. 
“What happened?” You breathe. 
Jungwon’s brows draw together in confusion for a moment before a flicker of realization dances across his features. 
“Oh.” He exhales, fingers tapping against the broken skin of his cheekbone lightly. “Nothing. I just, er, fell the other day.”
“You fell,” you echo. Like all of his other excuses, it’s vague. Flimsy at best. 
“Yeah,” he confirms with a slight nod. Again, he says, “I fell.”
It’s evasive. And it feels like more than just an explanation for his injury. 
It feels like confirmation of the distance between the two of you. His final assertion that you’re nothing but a coworker to him. Someone that he tells edited versions of stories to, someone that he keeps firmly planted an arm’s length away. 
Fine. If he wants to give you shitty excuses for his Friday nights and his absences at work events and now his injury that very obviously did not come from a fall, that’s just fine with you. 
After all, he’s nothing but a coworker to you either. The upcoming date you have planned with Jay is enough to prove it. 
“Well,” you tell him, forcing a smile. The fake, disproportionately bright kind that you only ever use with your coworkers. “I hope it heals quickly.”
And then you’re brushing past him, making your way towards the printer as if he’s nothing but an obstacle in your path. 
Collecting your freshly printed document, you turn and walk out the door without so much as a backward glance. 
…..
Sliding into the passenger seat of Jay’s car Thursday evening, you feel the stress melting from your shoulders the second the door shuts behind you. 
This is something else he makes easy: forgetting about whatever woes you managed to acquire after a long day of work. Jay just smiles as you sit down next to him, turning down the volume on the radio as he asks about your day. 
Tonight, the two of you are headed to one of your favorite diners. Somewhere where you can chat and laugh and relax over a pile of french fries and obnoxiously gaudy decor. 
But before you turn down the street that leads to the restaurant, Jay asks if the two of you can make a quick stop. 
“I left my bag at the gym last night,” he explains apologetically. “Do you mind if I swing by and grab it real quick? It’s on our way.”
You reassure him that it’s no problem, and a handful of minutes later, the two of you are parked outside of a rather nondescript, faded building. 
Frowning slightly, your eyebrow quirks up in surprise. Although he hasn’t outright disclosed anything, from what you’ve gathered so far, Jay’s family is quite well off. The kind that pays for expensive memberships at bougie gyms with saunas and swimming pools. Not the kind that frequents dark, run down gyms in the middle of a random residential area. 
Pulling his key from the ignition, Jay turns to you. “You can wait here, if you want.”
“That’s okay.” You’re already unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’m tired of sitting, anyway.” You really are. Plus, you have to admit that you’re kind of curious. 
You fall into step at his side as the two of you make your way towards the building. The closer you get, the more decrepit it appears. Paint is peeling from the exterior, leaving it an odd, mottled brown color riddled with rust marks. 
Even the sign, Kang’s Gym, is small, faded, and only visible once you’re nearly to the entrance. 
Jay steps in front of you, holding the door open for you to enter. 
The inside, you realize as you step in, is in no better shape than the outside. The wall closest to you is lined with weightlifting equipment that looks as if it were pulled from past decades. 
Padding is torn in places, and questionable stains cover the place, accumulated from years of use. 
You’re about to ask him outright why on earth he patronizes such a run down place when your eyes land on the far wall of the gym. There, you think you find your answer. 
There’s no weightlifting equipment or cardio machines. Instead, the majority of available space is filled with several sets of boxing rings. Like the rest of the gym, they’re equally faded and worn with years of use. 
But the lighting in that part of the gym is noticeably better. Far brighter, more intentional. As if the rest of the gym is just for show and that is the true purpose of this building. 
You’re suddenly overcome with the urge to take a second glance at your date. 
He has a lean, athletic build, yes. The kind that you assumed came from some kind of regular exercise regiment and not his office job. 
But boxing wasn’t exactly what you expected. 
Jay turns to you. His expression gives nothing away, holds no indication that this is anything out of the ordinary for him. “I think I left it over by the locker rooms.” 
Encasing your hand in his, he leads you towards the rings. Several of them are occupied, mostly by one-on-one sparring matches. 
Walking past the first one, the two men inside the ring turn to look at you and Jay as you pass. 
“Hey, man,” the first one offers with a nod of recognition that Jay returns. As his eyes slide over to you, they widen slightly in surprise. Gaze falling to your intertwined hands, the man just shakes his head slightly before returning to his sparring partner. 
Moving past them, you shake the odd interaction from your mind. 
You spare fleeting glances for the rest of the people you pass. For a moment, you try to imagine Jay in the ring instead of them. It’s an odd contradiction with what you’ve come to associate with him. 
Easygoing. Considerate. Even tempered. They’re traits that feel at odds with the kind of stark physicality required in a boxing ring. 
Then again, the more you consider it, the more you start to make sense of it. Jay is all of those things, yes, but there’s also an undercurrent of something else. 
A quiet intensity he carries with him. Something he has control over. Something he can channel when needed. 
The more you think about it, the easier it is to picture him in the ring, throwing precise, calculated punches until victory rests on his square shoulders. 
You’d be lying if you said the mental image didn’t pique your interest. You’re about to ask him if he’ll let you watch next time he’s in the ring when a flash of color in the last boxing ring, the one closest to the locker rooms, catches your attention. 
It’s unlikely. It feels impossible. Even more so than the thought of Jay in a boxing ring. But as you draw closer, you confirm your suspicions. 
After all, you would know that shade of blonde anywhere. 
It takes everything in you not to stop dead in your tracks. But even as you continue forward, hand still encased in Jay’s, your eyes are trained solely on the space between Jungwon’s broad shoulders. 
It’s almost inhuman, the feline agility that he moves with. He’s smaller than his opponent, but he’s faster. Lighter on his feet. 
The punches he throws are dizzyingly accurate, and his sparring partner seems to think the same. A muted thud is followed by a string of expletives that become more clear the closer you get. 
“Jesus, Jungwon.” The man across from him is still a bit breathless as he recovers from having the wind knocked out of him. “Bad week at work or something?”
“C’mon, Heeseung.” It doesn’t sound anything like the Jungwon you know. Gone is the quiet friendliness you’ve always heard from him. His voice is still gentle, but it carries an unmistakable command. “Stop going easy.”
“I’m not,” the other man – Heeseung – argues. “What has gotten into you? It’s like you’ve been insane since that match last week.” 
“Whatever,” Jungwon scoffs, shaking his head. “Let’s just take five.” 
“Make it ten,” Heeseung goads across from him. 
Jungwon sends him a warning glare, but says nothing. Instead, he reaches for his water bottle at the corner of the ring, leaning against the ropes that enclose it. 
All you can do is watch, suddenly fascinated by the way sweat darkens his hair, trails down the length of his neck. Jungwon gives a quick shake of his head, sending his hair scattering over his forehead as he leans further into the ropes behind him.
Tipping his head back, his throat works against a swallow as he takes a long drink from his water bottle. 
Jungwon sets his water bottle down, turning towards Heeseung like he’s about to say something else when movement catches his attention. 
More specifically, your movement. His eyes fall on you, and for a moment, you’re rendered just as immobile as him. His gaze widens in recognition and then suddenly, he’s standing. 
Long strides eat up the length of the boxing ring as he crosses it, every step bringing him closer to you. With a distinct sort of grace and practiced ease, he jumps over the side of the ring, landing on his feet just as you and Jay pass him. 
With a hand on your shoulder, he stops you both in your tracks. His touch is gentle, but commanding. It leaves little room for argument. 
“This is the guy you’ve been seeing?” Jungwon’s eyes are molten lava. If you thought that day in the staff kitchen was the most visible emotion he was capable of mustering, you were sorely mistaken. The Jungwon that stands in front of you now is simmering with it, vibrating with barely contained emotions. 
At your side, Jay turns back. With your hand still enclosed in his, Jay’s gaze goes straight towards Jungwon’s hand on your shoulder. 
“Jungwon,” he nods coolly. 
Jungwon ignores him entirely. His gaze is still trained directly on you. 
Glancing between the both of them, the tension between them is palpable. Over Jungwon’s shoulder, you can see Heeseung leaning against the edge of the boxing ring as if he can’t decide whether to intervene or not. 
“Well,” you say, attempting to diffuse a bit of the rising animosity, “I guess I don’t need to introduce the two of you, then.”
This time, it’s you that Jungwon ignores. Turning to Jay, he’s all venom. “And you brought her here? What the hell are you doing?”
“Relax, man.” Jay rolls his eyes. “We’re just grabbing my bag.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you left here,” he bites. “You know better than to–”
Shaking his hand off your shoulder, annoyance makes itself visible across your features. It’s one thing for Jungwon to be pissy towards your date, but it’s another entirely for him to assume that you can’t handle something as mundane as a boxing gym. 
And if you're honest, the whole overprotective act just rubs you the wrong way. Why does he think he gets to ignore you all week at work and then act like he knows what’s in your best interest?
“I think I can handle watching people throw a few punches, Jungwon.” Your voice is all ice, and it changes his demeanor immediately. The anger begins to dissipate, leaving him with wide eyes that beg for your understanding. 
The frustration is still there, though. “That’s not what I meant, ___.”
“I don’t really care what you meant.” You’re not sure if it’s true, but you want it to be. For now, that’s enough. “Why don’t you go back to your friend and pretend like you never saw me. You’re good at that, right?”
It’s a low blow. And it has his features falling immediately, eyebrows slackening as if you’ve slapped him. 
His voice is notably gentler when he says your name. “___…”
This time, it’s Jay that speaks. “I suggest you listen to her, man. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Jungwon wants to say more. You can see it in the way his mouth twitches, in the way his shoulders still rise with tension. Finally, he relaxes. Just a fraction of an inch, but you know it’s over. At least for now. 
He doesn’t say anything, but he does take a step back. And then another. 
His eyes are still on you, even as Jay keeps walking, pulling you gently along with him. 
By the time he finds his bag and the two of you make your way back out, Jungwon is nowhere to be found. 
You can still feel eyes on you, though. 
This time, it’s Heeseung’s gaze that follows you all the way out the door. 
Back in Jay’s passenger seat, you turn towards your date, a million questions swimming in your mind. 
“What on earth was that all about?”
Jay just frowns, knuckles white against the steering wheel. Instead of answering, he asks a question of his own. “How do you know him?”
“What?” Too confused to protest, you answer. “We work together.” Then you repeat, “What’s going on?”
Jay sighs, leans his head back against his seat. “He’s in marketing with you?”
“No,” you shake your head. “Programming. I don’t want to ask you again.” This time, you can’t help the expletive. “What the fuck was that?”
“We…” Jay trails off, searching for an explanation. “We know each other.”
“Yeah, no shit. How?”
“We went to the same middle school, before I left for high school. He was a year behind me.”
“And what?” You ask, trying to think of what kind of feud middle schoolers could possibly have that would warrant tonight’s interaction. “He stole your lunch money and you never got over it?”
“Not quite.” His lips are tight. “Look, ___. I know you can’t help who you work with, but Jungwon… he’s not who you think he is.”
“And you are?”
Jay turns to you, hurt clearly written across his features. “That’s not fair.”
“No,” you argue, doubling down. “What’s not fair is giving me vague half truths about my coworker and expecting me to just agree blindly while you evade all of my questions.” A moment of silence passes. Jay says nothing. Finally, you tell him, “If you’re not going to be honest with me, then I think you should just take me home.”
“Wait, ___–”
“I’m serious, Jay. I’m not about to go have dinner with you and pretend that this didn't just happen. Just take me home.” Softening a bit at the obvious distress on his face, you add a quiet, “Please.”
You won’t compromise your boundaries, but you don’t have it in you to be needlessly cruel, even if his evasiveness bothers you to no end. 
Jay just sighs, pulling into an empty parking lot before turning around and heading in the opposite direction. Towards your apartment. 
The rest of the car ride passes in stilted silence, neither of you willing to break it. 
Jay is the first one to speak, but it’s not until you’re sliding out of his passenger seat, back turned towards him. 
“Good night, ___.”
For a moment, you consider just ignoring him. But it feels petty, even for these circumstances. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he needs time to find a way to tell you the truth. 
“Good night,” you tell him. But you still don’t look back.
⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖
READ PART TWO HERE
⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖
note: I AM SO ANNOYEDDDDD this was all supposed to be one long fic, not two parts, but tumblr's post block limit got me. Honestly I don't know how I avoided it this long. Anyway the second part is written and will be posted soon. In the meantime, let me know what you're thinking so far! As always, thank you for reading ♡
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c0ffinshit · 3 months ago
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Simon (John Q.) SFW AND NSFW Headcanons
a/n: i knew yall would like that so here are so hcs that i had that i can now share with the world
warnings: controversial, mentions of pussy eating, me speaking my truth
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SFW:
okay, first off, this man claims to HATE modern music but… he has a soft spot for Fiona Apple
listen, this man is madddd and if he were a woman he would be a mean butch lesbian
he always drives you everywhere
even when you’re like “babe i can drive its fine” he’s like “no, i’ll drive”
he tells people his favorite movie is something film bro-y like fight club, but his favorite movie is something like little shop of horrors or when harry met sally
sorry im projecting
honestly, he is bad about talking about his emotions like homie doesn't have the words for it so he just gets angry
BUT he learns a lot from you about that
actually, you learn a lot from him too
he talks so highly of you, even before dating
like always talks about how he can hardly have a good and controlled day without you
if you two are a long distance away, he'll always call you and talk about your day
but even then, you two will stay on the phone for hours, just talking about whatever and how much you miss each other
always tries to be a sweet boyfriend and make you breakfast
expect he will burn it and the kitchen will be on fire
i will say this: simon is a sensitive boy, esp with people's emotions like if you're sad and crying about something you called 'stupid' he'll still hold you and tell you how not stupid it is
he HATES when you're upset, esp if he can't do anything to help you
he'll just sadly watch you til you feel better
and when you do, he'll get you your favorite blanket and stuffed animals and kiss you like the good bf. HE. IS.
sorry, my daddy issues are on full display *sobs*
definitely doesn't like it when you call him babygirl or pookie
even as a joke
the man doesn't get that
my man has an old soul IM SO FR
like he doesn’t really like modern TV or music
movies… that a different story
HE FUCKING LOVES MOVIES.
especially if it is like a movie musical or high fantasy (like lotr or hobbit)
maybe a comedy but like a comedy from like the '60s that is probably super offensive now
nfsw under the cut
NSFW:
first off, do i agree with the top allegations for simon? kinda.
listen listen, i only say kinda because of the fact that this man has angry ISSUES
like if you are being a brat, this man doesn’t hold back definitely into spanking for this reason
OKAY I HAVE A THING… when you two do it together, he is very… parental (if that makes sense)
like yes he is daddy we know but like he is the type to whisper “this is for your own good” as he spanks you
two words: BODY. WORSHIP.
this man will kiss and touch your body like it's your last day on earth
AUGH AND AND the look he gives you when he’s inside you FUCKKKKKKK
the look is filled with so much love and gratitude for you okay like this needs to be stated at all but like 8 inches
the type of 8 inches that hits against your cervix in the right way
AND ANOTHER THING when you two first get together, his libido is very low
which also means he is very easy to take care of
soooooo if you wanted to just do a blowjob, you hypothetically could
but then, like three or four months into dating, HORN DOG.
you're surpised when he isn't pressing against your while cuddling
but if anything, you’ll be the one getting head, not him
THIS MAN IS PUSSY WHIPPED.
like he will grab your thighs and pull you closer while eating you out he lovesssss hearing your moans when you're under him UGH
dude but like on the rare time like he will bottom, its lowkey kinda…
JOHN Q IS A SWITCH AND I WILL CONTINUE TO SPEAK MY TRUTH
this mfer groans like no tomorrow when he does bottom
soft,,,, begg…ing
like “you’re so good.” and then under his breath its “please keep going.”
also that boy has a praise kink with hints of degradation
am i saying that because i wrote a whole fic about it? yes. fuck yes.
im chewing at the bars of my enclosure
he gets so blushy when you look at him with your fuck-me eyes
COMMUNICATE WITH THAT BOY.
tell him what you want
tell him where you want it
tell him about your fantasies of him
he loves hearing your voice, especially when you talk in a soft and seductive voice
listen, the only reason i kinda don’t agree with the top allegations is because i believe JOHN Q IS A SERVICE TOP.
i've made my point very clear about that throughout this section
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lovelywritinglady · 5 months ago
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Idea that been on my mind for like weeks. GN reader that is Muzan's S/O that isn't well known by demons not even some of the uppermoons. Reader comes to the Infinity castle during an uppermoon meeting and gets on to Muzan about leaving a mess (Dead person) at the house and how they always have to clean the blood up. They are tugging Muzan's ear which is just surprising to the uppermoons. Nakime knows Reader cause she brings them there. Kokushibo knows reader because he saw reader in the infinity castle before doing whatever. Reader is also a demon.
Feel free to ignore this.
Sure thing!! Thank you for requesting!
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Yes Dear
Muzan Kibutsuji x GN!reader
In which the demons in the infinity castle are shocked by the authority you seem to have over their Lord Muzan.
Fluff, established relationship, mentions of violence, demons, out of character Muzan/other demons.
The moon was high as the upper moon demons gathered together because of their lords command. They all stood in the infinity castle as they awaited their lord who had important news to tell them. Douma in particular was getting restless, wishing he could partake in the eating of beautiful women instead.
“Where is our Lord?” Douma asked to no one in particular.
“Be patient, I am sure our Lord will arrive shortly.” Akaza replied with an annoyed tone.
“Hmmm, fine then.” Douma sighed.
Just then, the man of the hour himself arrived, almost in a flash. Douma, Akaza, and the other upper moon demons all stood still at Muzans aura. Chills ran down their spines and their once proud faces were now ones of fear. They all bowed simultaneously and kept their heads down to show their loyalty.
“Mmm good to know you all still know your place.” Muzan spoke looking down at them with slight disgust. The smell of blood thick in the air as Muzans latest victim lie dead on the floor.
“Yes my lord.” They all spoke heads still down
“Dammit Muzan! Not again!” An angry demon called out making all of the upper moons lift their heads in surprise.
“What is it now dear.” Muzan spoke calmly looking at his beloved.
“How many times have I told you that you cannot leave your dinner anywhere you want. You’re the lord of all demons at least act respectable. My goodness.” The new demon scolded Muzan as the tugged on his ear which surprised all of the other demons in the room.
“My…apologies, y/n. Please let go of my ear darling.” Muzan spoke softly hoping his subordinates wouldn’t hear.
“For what” Y/n said still holding onto his ear.
“For… leaving my dinner… laying around.” Muzan responded looking annoyed as his ear was throbbing in pain.
“Good. And this time there is no way in hell I’m going to clean up after you.” Y/n spat giving Muzan their best glare as they finally let go of his ear.
“Yes dear.” Muzan as he looked deep in their eyes. Muzan then held y/n’s face affectionately before turning back to his subordinates who gave him a look of confusion.
“What are you all looking at. If you’d like to keep your head then I suggest you bow your heads.” Muzan yelled glaring his bright red eyes at the upper moon demons.
“Yes my Lord Muzan.” They all said in unison.
“This powerful demon is Y/n, who also happens to be my mate. Treat them as you would treat me.” Muzan ordered looking at them in disgust.
They all bowed further showing that they understood their lord’s demand. Y/n then heals on to their mates arm holding it affectionat. They then looked at the sight before them feeling pride that their love is so powerful.
“Don’t you have import news to tell them, my love?” Y/n asked looking up at Muzan.
“Why yes, Dear.” Muzan replied looking into their e/c eyes. “I have gathered you all here today to tell you that a demon that has conquered the sun had finally come.” Muzan started as he continued to hold on to his love.
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Thank you so much for reading and thanks to the person who requested this fic!!💜 Sorry this took so long!!! Thank you for your patience.
Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.
Please feel free to like, comment, follow, and request.
•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•
-L.W.L
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damiansgoodgirll · 5 months ago
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HIIIIIII I saw you're Damian and Rhea x reader that you just posted AND I HAVE A IDEA (No rush I'm just sending it so I don't forget)
OKAY SO in the same universe as the previous fic what if backstage on Monday night raw finn starts trying to convince the reader to join the new judgment day (bc he obviously still cares for the kid) like trying to get jd or Dom to guilt trip them or even getting liv Morgan to be buddy buddy since reader had trouble making friends.
But the reader STAYS LOYAL to the terror twins 🖤
running to write this because i love it, here’s part one
the judgment day x reader (platonic) , mention of drew mcintyre
‼️finn being a good manipulator lol, family issues, fear of abandonment, angst, reader feeling insecure, brief mention of suicidal thoughts (sorry it’s a little angst)
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don’t break my heart - part 2
you lied if you said that you slept the night right after summerslam. no, you were in your hotel room watching the ceiling over and over, thinking of what was going to happen now. damian and rhea made sure to stay with you a few hours after the show, helping you calm down and making sure that you would eat something.
but they were tired and angry, so you perfectly understood when they waved goodbye and went to their rooms. they needed time to think and to cool off.
5 am and you were up to board on your next flight that didn’t leave until noon. you were living off on caffeine and sugar drinks but you didn’t care. you had no idea what was going to happen on monday night raw because you weren’t supposed to have any matches that night, you knew you would go with rhea and damian but you didn’t know what your future was going to be.
once you landed and you checked in into your new hotel room, you received a text from finn, saying to let him know once you arrived at the arena because he wanted to talk to you.
you drove along with rhea and damian and they both sensed your fear as you kept quiet, “you okay there?” damian asked you.
“uh?” you woke up from your trance.
“dam asked if you were okay, is everything okay y/n?” rhea added turning to face you.
“oh yes, i’m okay, just a lil nervous…” you hated lie to them, you hated lie in general but you couldn’t tell them that you were about to meet with finn. they would probably get mad at you and the last thing you wanted was to have your best friends hating on you too, so you kept it for yourself.
damian kept driving, knowing that eventually you would open up to them when you were ready.
once at the arena you waved them goodbye and went straight to your changing room. rhea told you to get ready in case something happened and if she needed your help so you did as she told you.
you texted finn and told him he could come over if he needed to talk to you so bad and not even 10 minutes later you heard a knock on the door.
“come in…” you screamed and he let himself in.
“hey…”
“hi” you couldn’t deny that the situation was awkward. you stood there for a couple of minutes before he could talk.
“listen…y/n i’m so sorry for everything that happened at summerslam” he apologized to you but you knew he wasn’t sorry at all.
“you lied to me finn…”
“and you lied to damian and rhea because i’m pretty sure they don’t know i’m here” he smirked at you and that look made you sick in the stomach.
“are you here to threaten me? are you to destroy the little family i have left? what do you want finn…i have no time for more bullshit, please” your voice sounded broken and finn hated himself for the way he treated you.
“i know…i’m so sorry for everything and you have to believe me…i’m not sorry for damian or for rhea because i got tired of being their little puppy, dominik too…but i have nothing against you, never have, never wil…i care about you y/n…don’t you remember all the things we shared? all the things we’ve went through?”
and you couldn’t lie to him. you will always remember how kind and patient and caring he has always been with you.
he was the first person you told about your past, even before telling damian and rhea. he was the one who held you while you cried when you told him about your thought of ending your life. he was the one who comforted you and made sure you never felt left out. and he was true when he said you’ve been through a lot because he was always there for you.
but so were damian and rhea so you couldn’t understand why was finn telling you all of that.
“why are you here finn?” you simply asked him, his way of bringing back memories made you feel guilty. seeing how much you depended upon someone made you realize that you probably were better alone than with someone.
“i want you to join us…”
“join who?”
“me…y/n, me, dom, jd and liv…listen, i know you and i know damian and rhea and they will leave you at some point…they are both chasing vengeance and power, they want their titles back, they won’t be with you forever and, i’m sorry to say it but they won’t take care about you forever…you saw the way rhea treated dom or the way damian treated jd…” his words were starting to impress in your head “jd kinda likes you” he chuckled “no, i’m pretty sure he has a crush on you…and listen, liv is really a friendly person, i know you don’t like her right now but i promise you, if you get to know her you will like her more…just give us a chance”
maybe he was right.
maybe you would ended up being alone one day and he was right about that damian and rhea had their own lives apart from you. hell, rhea just got married, maybe she would like to start a family one day…maybe finn was right.
finn always cared about you, he proved it many times so why were you afraid of trusting him?
“i-i…i don’t know finn…” your mind started to overthink. you were feeling overwhelmed and despite you still loved finn, despite you still caring for him, you couldn’t betray damian and rhea.
“listen i-…”
“no finn, you listen to me. how can you expect me to choose between you or them? how-how can you tear this family apart like this? because maybe for you it was nothing but for me…for me it was everything…” tears slowly falling down your face.
finn knew that it was wrong putting you in all of this mess. he knew that no matter what he still would have a space for you in his heart but the idea of choosing them instead of him made him feel useless, like somehow he failed you.
“i can’t choose between you or them because you are the ones who broke this group apart…” more tears falling from your eyes “i-i can’t finn…i can’t” and before he could say anything else, you turned to face the door and quickly left your changing room.
drew noticed you walking down the arena corridors with teary eyes and no matter how many time he called you, your mind couldn’t register any sound or noise. it felt like you couldn’t hear anything except your heart beating in your chest.
i just saw y/n crying and going towards the emergency exit of the arena. finn balor just came out of her changing room. don’t know what happened but she seems overwhelmed, she needs you.
drew texted rhea. he was pretty worried when he saw in what state you were in. he knew that even if he chased you, you probably would have just pushed him away. he knew something about your past and he knew how the other females in the roster would give you “the looks” and honestly he felt for you, he just wanted you to feel welcomed because for him, the wwe was just a big huge family. he knew that you needed time, that’s why he warned rhea.
when she read the text, she felt her heart missing a few beats.
“what?” damian asked a little concerned when he saw the look on her face.
she was still a little shocked “drew texted me…he saw finn leaving y/n’s changing room and he said that when she left she was crying…she’s probably going’s back to the hotel, he said she’s going outside”
that was all damian needed to hear before leaving rhea’s changing room and sprinting over the emergency exit. rhea following behind, making a note to thank drew later.
they both saw you sitting on the emergency stairs and slowly they both approached you.
damian sat in front of you while rhea sat next to you “hey angel…” rhea slowly turned your face towards hers “why are you crying beautiful?”
in that moment you saw it in their eyes.
they cared.
they cared like a family.
rhea was about to cry because she couldn’t stand the idea of seeing you upset.
“finn wanted to talk to me…he, well, he basically offered me a spot to join him alongside with dom, jd and liv…” you said. you feared that they would get mad but rhea’s eyes told you the opposite.
“and what did you say?” damian asked you, gently smiling at you.
“that i can’t…i can’t leave you, i can’t even look him in the eyes, it just hurts too much and i can’t have you hate on me too” you softly spoke.
damian looked at you and saw nothing but pure intentions “y/n…we could never hate you. we know how close you and finn are, and i know it hurts right now so we won’t forbid you to see him again if you want to…”
“but i can’t damian! it doesn’t feel right, it’s not right! i’m not turning my back on you, i would never do that…you guys mean so much for me and i can’t stand the idea of losing you or hate you but…but finn said some things that made me think…”
“what did he say sweetheart?” rhea gently asked.
“well, for instance, rhea you just got married…and i can’t hold you back for the rest of my life just because my head is a fucking mess, you have your life and i don’t want you to feel the need to look after me forever…same goes for you damian, i can’t depend on you for the rest of my life…”
“that’s absolute nonsense y/n” damian said and rhea agreed with him. she was mad with finn for playing those mind tricks with you, knowing exactly that your mind wasn’t in the right place and that you would get negative thoughts very easily.
“listen” damian spoke “we are a family okay? we stay together, now, tomorrow and in ten years okay? just because we have a life outside this company doesn’t mean that you’re not a part of our life outside of it okay? we stay together instead and outside…i love you like you are my own sister, fuck you could be my daughter y/n…” damian joked making you laugh.
“damian’s right” rhea held your hands “we stay together because we care about you, now and in a million years…”
“thank you for everything guys…” you smiled at both at them.
“you don’t have to thank us love…” rhea wiped some of your tears away “now, why don’t you help me getting ready uh? tonight’s gonna be a big night and i want to look perfect” she laughed making you laugh too.
“yup” you smiled and with their help you got up from the uncomfortable stairs.
rhea mentally noted to thank drew and to kick finn’s ass because he made you doubt yourself, and most importantly, he made you cry.
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okay so what about part 3 with reader and drew getting to know each other and developing feelings for each other and damian and rhea acting like big parents to reader?
PART 3
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mrsshabana · 4 months ago
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𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞
ꔫ‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, pregnancy, age difference, angst, fluff, modern au ꔫ‧₊ Note 5k words. This is the last chapter for this fic, but I still have lots of things that I want to write for this au so be on the lookout for oneshots in the future. Thank you for all of your support for this series ♡ ✧:・゚→ Part one ✧:・゚→ Part two
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“Fuck fuck fuck! What do I do? Her mom is gonna kill me if she figures out I’m dating her daughter! And then Y/N is gonna kill me for telling her mom!” Gyutaro thinks to himself as he begins to panic.
“Ahem,” your mother clears her throat and repeats her question, “Who the hell are you, sir?”
“Er um… Gyutaro?” he says as if he’s not sure what his own name is. 
“Gyutaro?!” her eyes widen.
“Shit… does she already know who I am? I thought Y/N didn’t tell her…” he thinks again. 
“Y/N! Come here!” she yells inside the house, then she turns back to Gyutaro and opens the door, “Come in, Gyutaro.”
“Um… th-thanks,” he stutters as he nervously steps inside, not sure whether your mother is angry with him or not. 
“Yeah, mom? What’s wro-” you stop mid-sentence as you come into the dining room and see your boyfriend standing there. 
“Y/N,” your mom says sternly, “This man just told me that his name is Gyutaro.”
You blush, “Um yeah… this is Gyutaro.”
“You failed to tell me that your boyfriend was a grown ass man,” she scowls and walks into the kitchen.
“Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you! I was scared of how you’d react,” you plea as you follow her into the kitchen.
Gyutaro just stands awkwardly in your dining room, wishing that he could shrink and hide somewhere. His palms begin to sweat as he thinks about the consequences of his actions. Is your mother going to make you break up with him? 
The thought makes his heart ache. Is he going to lose his sister and his girlfriend on the same day? 
Your mom comes back into the dining room holding a teapot and some cups, “Gyutaro, come sit and make yourself comfortable,” she says as she pours a cup of tea for him. 
“Y-Yes ma’am,” he mutters and sits at the table.
You aren’t sure what to do or say to make things better, but you sit beside Gyutaro and give him a reassuring look in an attempt to comfort him. In response, he looks at you with a guilty look in his eyes as if he’s apologizing. 
“Gyutaro,” your mom says calmly as she sits across from him at the table, “I have three questions for you.”
“Y-yes?” he gulps.
“Do you have a job?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Do you have a criminal record?”
“No ma’am.”
“Do you pay your taxes?” 
“Of course!” he answers enthusiastically.
“Alright. Now Y/N, I have three questions for you,” she diverts her attention to you now, “Does Gyutaro make you happy?”
“Y-Yes! He makes me very happy…” you blush. 
“Does he behave like a gentleman?”
“Yes, always,” your cheeks redden.
“Do you love him?”
“I-I do,” you mutter, feeling shy about admitting this in front of your mom. 
“Alright, then I approve of him. Even though he’s a bit older than you, he seems like a decent man,” she states as she looks over at Gyutaro’s flustered face, “Welcome to the family, Gyutaro.”
“Th-Thank you Miss L/N!” he lets out a sigh of relief, finally feeling in the clear that your mom approves of your relationship. 
“See mom! I told you he was a good boyfriend!” You jump up and give him a big hug, genuinely feeling so happy that your mom accepts your relationship. It was something you were really worried about, especially since your mom has always been very protective of you. Honestly, you're quite surprised she’s so cool about the age difference between you and your boyfriend. 
“I honestly thought you’d be mad,” you laugh nervously, hoping you aren’t jinxing it. 
She sighs and sips her tea, “You know dear, your father was the same age as me. And he left me when I was pregnant with you. He was young and immature. Age means nothing,” she shakes her head, “I rather you date an older man that pays his taxes and takes care of you than a man your age that only cares about himself.”
Gyutaro smiles, finally feeling like someone accepts him and doesn’t judge him. He sees where you get it from now. 
“And that’s why your father is in prison for tax evasion…” she mumbles under her breath, only Gyutaro hears what she says. 
“Aw mom… I promise you Gyutaro is nothing like dad,” you say, looking a bit somber as you take a sip of your tea. 
“I can already tell,” she smiles, “Well, you two can go have your fun. Just be home by ten.”
“Are we going on a date, Gyu?”
“Oh uh no… actually I came over for something else,” he swallows dryly, “Um… I told Ume about us.”
Immediately from the look on his face you can tell things didn’t go well. “Oh… Did she take it really hard?”
“Yeah,” he nods, choking up a bit, “She called me disgusting… then she slapped me and left,” he touches his cheek, still red from her hand. 
“She what?!” you gasp, totally shocked that Ume would get physical with her brother. You aren’t sure what words to say, it seems like nothing would be able to fix this. The one person who has been with him his entire life, the person he dedicates all of his hard work to doesn’t accept his relationship. It’s a really hard pill to swallow, and he’s still struggling to even think about it. 
The surprise meeting with your mother distracted him momentarily, but all of those raw feelings from his argument with Ume are flowing back now and he feels his eyes begin to well up with tears. 
“Ume is his sister, right?” Your mother whispers to you.
“Yeah,” you nod. 
“I see,” she puts her hand on Gyutaro’s shoulder, feeling lots of sympathy for him, “Gyutaro listen, your sister didn’t mean it and I think you know that. The two people that she’s closest to started dating and she’s probably feeling left out. Like you two will get closer without her and leave her. She’s just scared and said whatever she could to try to hurt your relationship. Just give her time, I promise she’ll come around.”
Your mom smiles softly, offering Gyutaro that motherly care he grew up without.
“Th-thanks,” he sniffles, trying to hold back his tears, “I know you’re right. It just hurt when she said those things, but I know she still loves me… and I still love her too. I just hope she comes home soon…”
“Maybe try calling her tomorrow if she doesn’t come home by then,” you suggest as you rub his back.
Gyutaro nods, feeling better after having talked to the both of you. 
Of course, it hurt like a ton of bricks crushing his balls, but he knows the pain is only temporary. Soon enough his sister will come back and he’s going to make sure she doesn’t feel left out. 
The thing is, even after a couple of days Ume doesn’t return home. Nor does she answer Gyutaro’s phone calls. 
Every day you receive worried texts and calls from Gyutaro asking if you’ve seen his sister. You haven’t heard anything from her, and to be honest you think it’s kinda messed up that she’s ignoring her brother like this. Sure they had a pretty big argument but she knows he cares about her, and she knows he’s losing his shit worrying about her right now. 
Seeing your boyfriend so torn up over it is making you really upset, and you’ve had enough of it. 
Ume has been ditching class for a couple of days, but she finally shows up. Coming into the room completely ignoring you, taking her seat at the opposite side of the lecture hall. Even though you hate confrontation you know you can’t just let her walk away after class ends, so you stop her as she’s leaving the lecture hall. 
“Ume! Hey wait up!” you shout as you follow her out of the room. 
“I have nothing to say to you,” she turns her nose up.
“Please talk to me,” you finally catch up to her, “I just want to talk, Gyutaro told me what happened.”
“Of course he did,” she scoffs, “Because you two are so buddy-buddy now. How about you just move in with him and take my spot in the house? I bet you’d like that, huh?”
“What? No! I’m not trying to take him away from you!”
“What else am I supposed to think?! You were my best friend and then I find out you’ve been hooking up with my brother behind my back! You’re a shady bitch!”
“It’s not like that! I was never “hooking up” with him!” You plea, “We just started dating like any other couple, I don’t see why you have to say it like that.”
“So what is it then? If you weren’t just hooking up with him what were you doing then? Do you want his money or something? Want him to be your sugar daddy?” she makes a disgusted face.
“No! You don’t get it! Just because Gyutaro’s older than me doesn’t mean I’m using him for this or that. I just like him because he’s a good guy,” you say, trying to get your point across without yelling at her, “Why can’t you just accept that I like him for who he is?”
Ume’s frown begins to soften and her eyes dart from side to side as if she’s thinking about something. She’s beginning to realize how selfish it was of her to think that someone couldn’t love her brother for who he is. Gyutaro came to the realization that he was unlovable long ago, and his beliefs rubbed off on his sister. But now she’s starting to see how wrong that is, she should have been his biggest cheerleader regardless of how glum things seemed. 
Sure Gyutaro isn’t the most attractive guy, nor is he the most charming, but she knows her brother more than anyone. And she can think of a thousands reasons why someone would fall in love with him. 
“I’m sorry Y/N,” she says, “You’re right. My brother is super slay, and I shouldn’t have been surprised you liked him. You’re the only girl to get close to him, so I guess it makes sense.”
You smile, finally feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. 
“It’s alright, I know it came as a surprise to you,” you lean forward and hug her, “But I’m honestly just happy to have my friend back.”
“Me too,” she says with a smile.
After you reconcile with Ume, Gyutaro comes to pick you up from campus as the two of you had planned a date for tonight at his place. But when he pulls up to the curb and sees you with Ume he immediately parks his car and gets out.
“Ume!” he shouts as he runs towards you, “Where the hell have you been?!”
“Calm down brother,” she acts nonchalant about being missing for three days, “I was staying with a friend.”
“You had me worried sick,” his voice cracks as he tears up. Feeling a mixture of anger and relief.
“I’m sorry,” she gives him a tight hug, “I-I’ve been a brat lately. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did when you told me about Y/N… and I should never have hit you either. I’m really sorry, brother…”
“It’s alright, sis,” immediately Gyutaro’s attitude changes and he has a smile on his face, “You are a brat, but I love you anyways,”
For the first time in your relationship, Gyutaro actually feels normal. Knowing that he has the approval of his sister, he no longer feels so much shame about being older than you. He can confidently walk out in public with you now and hold your hand without giving a fuck. Someone stares at you weirdly? Well, fuck them! Gyutaro is with his girl and he couldn’t care less about anyone else’s opinion about it. He’s happy and you’re happy. That’s all that matters to him. 
The three of you go back to Gyutaro’s house and watch a movie together. The plan was for you and Gyutaro to have a stay-at-home date together, but you decided it’d be best to include Ume too so she doesn’t feel left out. It went well despite the fact that Ume decided to sit in between you and Gyutaro. 
After the movie ends Gyutaro asks you a question as he cleans up some popcorn that fell between the couch cushions, “So uh… did you want to stay the night?”
“Not with me!” Ume butts in, “She has your cooties now!”
“Ume! Shut it!” Gyutaro blushes, “Cooties don’t exist, don’t be so childish.”
“I was just kidding, brother,” she rolls her eyes, “Y/N just stay in my brother's room. Just promise you guys won’t be too loud.”
“H-Hey!! It ain’t like that!!” he shouts with a completely red face as Ume is already walking back towards her bedroom. He knows she’s just teasing him but he still feels very shy when it comes to this kind of thing. Especially since the two of you have only spent one night in the same bed, and both of you vividly remember what took place then.
“It’s ok Gyu,” you chuckle, your cheeks already pink from Ume’s earlier statement, “Let’s just get ready for bed, ok?” 
“Ok…” he grumbles as he finishes cleaning up his sister’s mess. 
Following Gyutaro to his room, you can’t help but think about what might happen tonight. Will you have sex with him again? How will it go? Maybe you’ll try a different position or maybe even oral this time. Your heartbeat quickens as you think about all of the possibilities. 
Little do you know, he’s thinking about the exact same thing. He wants to be intimate with you again so badly. And for the first time instead of feeling awkward and insecure, he feels confident about initiating sex with you.
“I’m going to run a bath for us,” he says after he closes the bedroom door behind you and walks into the bathroom that’s connected to his room. 
“O-Ok,” you stutter as your face heats up. Did he say he’s going to run a bath for us? Meaning he wants to take a bath with you?
As you hear the water running in the bathroom you decide to take off your clothes, only leaving your undergarments. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you take a deep breath and try to calm your thoughts. If you do end up having sex with him tonight, you want to be relaxed so you can enjoy the moment. 
But even though Gyutaro seemed cool and collected he’s freaking out on the inside. And that shows when he comes back into the room to see you in nothing but panties and a bra. Immediately the cool guy act crumbles and he’s staring at you like this is the first time he’s seen a naked woman. 
“U-um Y/N?” he stutters. 
“Is the bath ready?” you sit up to meet his flustered gaze. 
“Yeah,” he nods, tenderly taking your hand and leading you to his pristine bathroom. The first thing you notice is how clean and neat it is compared to Ume’s. 
Gyutaro avoids eye contact with you as he begins removing his clothes. First to go is his shirt, revealing his muscled torso and the large tattoo on his arm. He hesitates when taking off his pants, already feeling himself getting hard. 
“Fuck…” he mutters to himself. Not wanting to make this awkward by just flaunting his hard-on. So he faces away from you and quickly steps into the tub, covering himself with his hand just to be safe. 
To be honest, he got in so quickly that you didn’t even really notice. You do feel a bit shy removing your own clothes though, this will be the first time he’s seen you nude in a fully lit room. 
And your boyfriend can tell just how nervous you are so he doesn’t stare. Only reaching out a hand to help you get into the tub when you’re ready. 
The water is warm and soothing, the surface covered by cherry scented bubbles - which he strategically put in there so you wouldn’t be able to see how achingly hard he is. 
Leaning back with a content sigh, Gyutaro opens his arms to you, “C’mere.”
With a blush you come to your boyfriend and lay your head on his chest, snuggling up to him under the warm water. Surely by now you can feel it, so maybe the bubbles were a waste of time. But that’s ok because Gyutaro isn’t even worried about that anymore, he’s too focused on how lucky he is to be having this moment with you right now. 
“This is nice, Gyu,” you hum as you trail your hand up and down his chest, “I like being alone with you like this.”
“Me too,” he whispers while trying not to moan from your touch. “You-you look really beautiful by the way…” His gaze drifts down to see your curves peeking out from beneath the water. 
He can’t deny it anymore, how badly he wants to have sex with you right now. Ever since you did it the first time it’s constantly been on his mind. But not for the reason you may think. He loved it so much because he felt so loved. It was the first time in his life that he felt so intimately close to someone. That kind of love and closeness is something he’s craved for his entire thirty-five years of life. 
And after today, all of the confidence he gained from finally having his sister’s acceptance, he’s feeling less ashamed of himself. His girl loves him, so why shouldn’t he show her how much he wants her? There’s nothing to be afraid of. 
Mustering all of the confidence he has, Gyutaro gently caresses your cheek - moving a strand of hair away from your face and looking into your eyes. Immediately you feel your knees go weak and your thighs rub together with need. 
He pulls you closer and presses his lips against yours, initiating a heated kiss. 
You can’t help but completely melt into him, allowing him to guide you fully on top of him. Now you’re definitely able to feel his erection as it presses between your legs. But it’s no surprise, you could tell he wanted you by the way he looked at you before he kissed you. 
Beneath the water he maneuvers his hands, one cupping your breast and the other squeezing your thigh. Enjoying the slippery softness of your soapy skin under his touch. Moving his kiss down to your neck, he nibbles and sucks on your delicate skin. 
“Ah, Gyu,” you whimper and hold onto his shoulders. 
He can’t help but smirk, pride building up within him that he’s able to make you melt like this. “M’gonna make love to you,” he whispers into your ear as he moves forward, pushing you to lay on your back as he moves your legs to hang over his shoulders. 
Looking up at him, you feel like your body has become jelly. He looks so sexy as he hovers above you, from the way his long damp hair sticks to his forehead and neck to the way the water droplets cling to his abs and biceps. Not to mention the patch of hair that trails up to his belly button. It all makes you feel butterflies and you can’t help but spread your legs for him. 
Tightly gripping your thighs, he leans forward and whispers, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll go slow,” and gently moves his hips forward - gradually sliding into you, splitting you apart on his length. 
You gasp and squirm beneath him, your body sweats as you are not only surrounded by the warm water but also by his hot body on top of you. 
Once fully inside, he slowly thrusts into you just as he had promised. Making sure to pay close attention to your reaction to make sure you're comfortable. 
And you’re more than comfortable. If anything you’re too comfortable. The fact that he isn’t vigorously ramming into you as if he intends to put a baby in you is unbearable. So you grab his hips and forcefully plunge him into you, “Fuck me harder Gyu!” You pant, desperately trying to guide him to a faster pace. 
His eyes widen and his cheeks turn pink, but he doesn’t need to be told twice. With your permission, he grabs your hips and violently thrusts into you - so hard that the water in the tub spills over the edge. But neither of you care, too lost in pleasure to even notice. 
“Ahh, I wish you could put a baby in me, Gyu!” you moan, not fully realizing what you’re saying. But your statement sparks something within him and triggers a kink he didn’t even know he had. 
“Fuck… I wanna put a baby in you so bad,” he grunts, “gonna stuff you full.”
The thought of getting you pregnant makes Gyutaro absolutely feral. A family is something he’s always wanted, so just the mere idea of you carrying his baby drives him to fuck you even harder. Determined to get as deep as possible, ensuring that his seed fills you nice and full. 
With that thought in mind, he picks you up and holds you close to his body while he stands on his knees. Holding onto your hips as he pounds into you, the sound of wet skin slapping fills the room along with water splattering onto the tile floor. 
Meanwhile, you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on tightly while he fucks you silly. Saliva dripping down your chin and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, moaning and gasping as your boyfriend continuously forces the air out of your lungs. Your entire body begins to tingle, you know you’re getting close. And he knows it too by the way your walls are tightening around him. 
That’s the only warning he gets before you’re cumming all over him. Your body shaking as his strong arms hold you up. 
However, his orgasm hits him out of nowhere, as soon as he feels your orgasm hit you it pushes him over the edge as well. He didn’t want to cum just yet but you feel so good that he can’t help it. His cock twitches as it fills you to the brim with his sticky seed. The warmth spreading inside of you comforts you as your sensitive body lies in his arms. 
Gyutaro pants as he holds you there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Then he gently lowers himself back into the tub, holding you and softly kissing you as you remain in his arms. 
Now that his orgasm has ended, he knows it was all just talk. That he can’t actually get you pregnant since you’re on birth control. But he can tell that a part of what you said was true and not only because it was in the heat of the moment. And it was true for him too. He really would like to get you pregnant and start a family one day. 
“Don’t worry my love,” he whispers, “One day we will start a family together, I promise.” 
You can’t help but smile and snuggle closer to him - hoping that one day you really will get to start a family with him. 
.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.
And it won’t be long until Gyutaro makes you an official Shabana.
Because a year later he proposes to you. 
After you graduated and moved in with him he knew that he had to make you his wife. So it wasn’t long until he couldn’t wait any longer and just asked. The two of you were on a weekend trip to the beach when he proposed. Nothing too fancy, but it was nice and romantic. He hadn’t planned to propose that weekend either, he had been carrying the ring around in his pocket for weeks. But when he saw how beautiful you looked as you walked beside him on the shore, he knew he had to make you his wife as soon as possible. 
You had the wedding four months after the proposal. It was a small ceremony with close family and friends, but it was absolutely perfect. 
Ever since then your life has felt like a dream. 
Gyutaro got a promotion so now he doesn’t have to work overtime as often and there’s no pressure for you to work a full-time job if you don’t want to. Ume moved into an apartment in the city so now it’s just you and Gyutaro living in his house.  He’s even taken up doing some renovations in the kitchen and the spare bedroom too. 
It’s strange how your life changed so quickly after you met Gyutaro. You went from a college student living with your mom to being married and living with your husband in your own house all in the span of a year and a half. 
This isn’t the life you had envisioned yourself having after college, but you wouldn’t change a single thing. It’s perfect, and it’s only going to get better from here. 
“Honey, I’m home!” Gyutaro shouts as he comes into the house, “Sorry I’m late. I wanted to pick us up something from the bakery-” he stops when he looks around and sees you’re nowhere in sight. 
He peeks into the kitchen, “Where the hell is she?” next he checks the garden. “Y/N?” no, not there either. 
Usually, when he gets home from work you’re in the kitchen preparing dinner or sometimes outside in the garden. Sometimes you go out with your friends but you usually tell him first. He’s not mad though, he just assumes you went out and forgot to tell him. 
“Oh well, I’ll text her and see what she wants for dinner tonight,” he says to himself as he takes off his tie. His mind is lost in thought as he thinks about what he wants to make tonight, he’s thinking one of your favorites. 
As he contemplates dinner, he walks into the bedroom to see you sitting on the bed. Immediately he can tell that something is wrong. 
“Y/N? Are you alright?” he walks over to you and puts his hand on your shoulder, “What’s that in your hand?” He asks as he notices you’re clutching something in your hands, hiding it from his view. 
“Gyu… I-I have to tell you something…” you mutter. 
“Babe, you’re scaring me… whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise I won’t be mad,” he says in a caring manner, trying to comfort you. 
Your thoughts are spiraling, not sure whether he will be happy or angered by what you say. But you know that it’s something he needs to know. 
However, you can’t even muster the words. So you just hand him the object you had clutched in your palms. 
The room is filled with silence as he closely observes the object, “You… you’re pregnant?”
“Y-yeah, I’m pregnant,” you nod and look up at him, anxious to see his reaction. And it isn’t at all what you had expected. 
There are tears pouring from his eyes as he clutches the positive pregnancy test. All of his walls start crumbling down and he lets it all out, sobbing uncontrollably. 
“Gyutaro?” you gasp, starting to panic. 
Before you can reach out to him he lunges forward and embraces you, tightly wrapping his arms around you. “We-we’re gonna have a baby!” he sobs, “I can’t believe it.”
“Aw honey, so… you’re happy?”
“Of course I’m happy! Th-this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me!” he says between sobs.
It seems you were worried for nothing. You knew Gyutaro always wanted children but you didn’t know if he wanted them now especially since you haven’t been married for very long. Gyutaro has always been nothing but loving and supportive towards you, so of course he was overjoyed at the news.
Your husband drops to his knees and presses his forehead against your stomach, “This is everything I’ve ever wanted…”
“Aw Gyu…” you smile and kiss the top of his head, “You’re going to be a great father.”
Hearing those words makes his tears flow even more. “I-I had no idea you were pregnant...”
“It was bound to happen,” you chuckle causing him to chuckle too.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right haha,” he stands and gives you another tight hug. 
The news was shocking to him, but he couldn’t be that surprised. Ever since you got married you’ve been having unprotected sex so it’s no surprise that it happened so soon. However, even though he’s married to a beautiful woman there was still a part of him that told him he was too old to have a family. Too old to have a child of his own. And too old to make a woman like you happy. 
But now he’s finally starting to realize that none of it was true. 
And he does deserve this. Marriage, children, and most importantly you. 
“I love you, Y/N… thank you for making all of my dreams come true.”
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Taglist: @gyusimp @kyu-kitsune @idontevenknowlsjsbsbdj @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @chibi-absol @sterzin @cherrysxuya @angelicsaiko @misskaorii @matsukaah @dawn-rays-dingo @hoshigafuru @gloomysel @tergyri @404starlight @irondreamerface @zoroisminty @edenminx @multisstuff @that1lxnlybxch @emberlovesthemoon @blurpleuni-squid @boggiesho @nekee-lilac02
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boiohboii · 1 year ago
Text
How would that keep us safe?
(Kimi Raikkonen x pregnant!wife!reader)
Inspo
When a formula 1 driver's car fails on them, they would a. be angry, b. go straight to their engineers, c. stay in the team's motor home.. but not kimi raikkonen, no sir, especially not with his pregnant wife on a yacht on her own.
or
in which Sebastian Vettel, Mark Webber and Jenson Button make fun of the infamous ice man for being head over heels for his wife so he just decides to double down.
WARNINGS: not proof read (when do I ever proof read this stuff), no sense of timeline whatsoever, just a small crackhead fic that came to mind. Thank you insta algorithm for the Kimi edits, the man is so fine omg, solid dilf right here people.
Masterlist
"God," yn huffed as she, for an accurate description, waddled alongside her husband, Kimi Raikkonen into the Mclaren garage "if you don't keep it in your pants next time I will chop it off."
"Yes dear." Kimi replied with a smile on his face, hiding his laughter as best as he could to spare himself the lecture that would inevitably make him laugh harder- he can't help it, his wife is much more adorable trying to give him an earful with her puffed cheeks, stomping feet and her belly looking like it's about to pop at any second.
It hadn't even been 30 minutes before yn started to feel the heat getting to her, making her fan herself with the collar of her shirt while glaring at the fan that evidently did nothing to help her out.
"Everything alright dear?"
"No, no!" yn turned to look at her husband "it's so fucking hot i feel like my skin is melting off and your daughter wouldn't stop kicking my bladder so no, nothing is fucking alright!"
While the engineers around gulped, scared for their lives, Kimi bit his lips to avoid smiling at his very cute, frustrated wife. He had gotten used to her snapping at him whenever any little thing annoyed her, he knew it's the least he can do and she always apologises so no harm done really.
"It's okay, here, how about you go watch the race from the yacht? Will that be better?" Kimi whispered as he stood behind his wife with his hands underneath her belly, lifting it up to give his wife some rest.
"Oh my god," yn groaned in relief "I really needed that, I love you."
Staying like that for a few minutes, yn agreed that it would be much better if she watched the race from the yacht in her swimming suit, the atmosphere and the clothing would definitely make it much more comfortable for her. And just as she was about to leave, new company arrived.
"Ohhh, did he piss you off enough to leave him before a race?"
"Damn Kimi, don't make a pregnant woman that mad, especially not your wife."
The voices of Sebastian Vettel and Jenson Button joined the couple, along with the laugh of Mark Webber.
"Oh, shut up." As much as Kimi tells yn that he would rather eat chalk than willingly hang out with these guys, he is indeed fond of them.
"He didn't piss me off," yn pulled her husband down so she could kiss him, smiling upon hearing two of the three newcomers groan and a whistle (of course it's sebastian) "i just feel like I will burst any second so I am going to watch the race from One More Toy"
"What the fuck is one more toy?"
"Oh, it's kimi's yacht."
"Our yacht."
Placing one palm on her belly while his other rests on her cheek, Kimi smiled at his wife "be safe, yes?"
"Yeah, of course."
Giving her a kiss on her forehead, Kimi let go of his wife, watching her head towards his yacht with the help of one of the interns.
"Be safe." Came the mocking voice of Jenson Button
"I'll be so safe." Sebastian continued as they both reincarnated the way Kimi and Yn were standing a few seconds ago; Jenson's hands on Sebastian's stomach and cheek
"I'm going to kill you on this track."
Deciding to join, Mark stood in between Sebastian and Jenson, breaking up their proximity and placing his arms around their shoulders "but how would that keep us safe?"
"An engine failure, yet again from Mclaren."
"It seems like Raikkonen is the one who will retire this race, what a shame."
"Everyone was hoping for him to win this race, he had been phenomenal these past few races giving one stellar performance after the other, truly a waste to see him go this early into the race."
"Well, it looks like Kimi is going to walk to the garage."
"That is insane, it's like a 20 minute walk, no?"
"And we are back, and oh my god, there is Kimi Raikkonen in his yacht, he hasn't got a shirt on, with his wife on his lap, the father to be could not care less in this moment ladies and gentlemen."
"What a legend, the Iceman strikes again everyone, leaving the race to be on a yacht with his family. And oh my god, it seems that the couple are having the time of their lives on their yacht 'one more toy' with snacks all around and their hands all over each other."
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love-toxin · 9 months ago
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just read your latest billy fic and am now obsessed with the idea of billy babytrapping you and/or having a massive, unhinged breeding kink. in his mind you won't ever leave him if he gets you pregnant.
(please bear with my ramblings below)
billy obsessively tracking your cycle and going at it like rabbits when you're ovulating. sex that goes on for HOURS because he wants to get multiple loads inside of you, just to be sure. plugging you up afterward so all his cum stays inside. constantly telling you what a good parent you would be, and how beautiful your children would be because he's pretty, and you're pretty, so it just makes sense, right?
I really think he'd get so delusional about it. burying his face in your arousal and insisting he can tell you're fertile just by the smell/taste. bending down to whisper in your ear only to tell you how full and achey his balls are getting. leaving you little gifts but they're all pregnancy tests or baby clothes. forget whatever stage of a relationship or situationship you guys are in, he's starting a family with you. he'd get such an ecstatic glint in his eye when you finally tell him you're pregnant. don't get me started on the pregnant belly worship.
tl;dr if billy fucks me and I'm not sitting in a puddle of his cum afterwards, I don't want it‼️🗣
PRRRRRR!!!! yes. im into it. now u have to bear with MY ramblings
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(cws: babytrapping, fem pronouns)
Feels like babytrapper Billy is an untapped gold mine--it's less that he wants a baby at first and mostly just that he wants control over you, but that switches up real fast when you actually get knocked up. When you actually wanna be sweet about it. Fussing about cribs and a nursery and having enough baby clothes, making him take you to the ultrasound appointments and actually getting a 'tude with him because he did this to you and now he's gonna have to deal with just as much as you have to carrying his baby.
But Billy ends up loving the shit out of it. He loves your attitude. He loves your mood swings. He loves your hormonal cravings and your tears when you throw up morning after morning. He loves holding your hair back and stuffing your bed full of pillows so you're comfortable, and he loves laying his head on your belly and hearing those little gurgles and feeling those little kicks from his baby.
At the same time, however, it makes him emotional. If this is how he feels before his baby is even here, then why would...how could his father ever treat him the way he does, and did? How could anybody do that to a kid? It makes him angry at himself for the way he was treated and the way he took that out on Max, too. He's got lots of apologies to make. Those experiences don't take up all his attention, though--he has a pretty partner to care for now, and having that to fill his time over bouncing from party to party and girl to girl just to feel something makes him unbelievably satisfied.
It honestly makes him glad that he never knocked anyone up accidentally leading up to when he met you. It had to be you, he knows that now. It had to be you that he coerced, begged, and fucked into submission to make you his, it had to be your womb that he wanted so badly to break and your pussy he wanted to risk going raw into. Wouldn't you just be the cutest with a baby, anyways? You're such a catch and you're so pretty. You'd make such adorable babies. It's obvious he never wanted to be one of those guys with a handful of baby mamas and kids he rarely sees; he wants you and your kids and that's it. It's official--you've hooked Hawkins' resident playboy into a dedicated partner and father, whether you wanted to or not.
If there's one thing he loves most about your pregnancy though, it's that he loves your neediness. He loves that something seems to click in you that makes you pine for the man whose seed you've sown, like there's an invisible connection between you two that pulls you both closer. It's like you're instinctually drawn to him and he hopes, god he hopes that continues after you've had the baby. He's ready to make love to a woman after she's had a child (after you've healed sufficiently, of course, he can wait) it's like that next stage of maturity for him. He can't wait to see how far you've come and how much you've sacrificed just to have his baby, and he can't wait to look you in the eyes and tell you he wants another. No, he doesn't want you to work off the baby weight first or fuss with your hair or your clothes to try and get back to looking like you were before. He wants you now. As you are. Raw. He's sick of those prissy party-girl snobs and their perfect bodies and their permed hair that they can't let get messed up. He wants the woman who stays up all night feeding his daughter and rolls her eyes at his flirting attempts in the morning. He's totally whipped, and even with those bags under your eyes and that tension headache behind his from the crying of his precious baby girl, he still wants another. And he's got ways of making sure that you do, too...after all, he got you into it the first time, right?
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lxclerc · 1 year ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐝𝐫𝟑
summary... it’s never the right time for  you and daniel, always something pulling the two of you away from each other. requested... yes by literally everyone. yall were coming at me with pitch forks for this warning... age gap (7 years), emotional cheating, physical cheating, angst, angst, angst, light smut (more on fade to black) pairing... daniel ricciardo x horner! reader
note... i am tagging each and everyone of you who asked for a part 2 bc this fic has quite literally loomed over my head ever since i posted it a year ago. literally everytime i open this godforsaken app, someone is offering me their first born for the part 2 so yall better give me all the notes!!!
𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
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high tide came and brought you in
“if you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?”
the question caught you off guard as your friend drunkenly pondered over it out loud. where would you go? you were sober enough to say home, the most acceptable answer that would not invite any other follow up questions. it’s simple and doesn't need a discussion. the reason it caught you off guard wasn’t just that though but because your answer was instantaneous in your head. your answer isn’t a where but rather a who, came your bitter realization. 
and you knew that if you could go anywhere in the world right now, it’d be him you’d go to. he always lingers in the back of your mind, everything that reminded him of you tends to bring a certain kind of aching and longing you’ve grown to resent over the months and years spent without him. 
daniel sent you away and deep in you, you know he meant good. he’d done a selfless thing, loving you and setting you free. but missing him was unbearable, loving him all consuming and you resent him for doing this to you. you resent the world for making you fall for a man without letting you have him. 
still, you did as he told you. you went back to school, pursuing a career in a field you knew he’d be proud of, achieving your dreams and living your life as though a part of you hadn’t been left with him. 
your friends carry on with the party. half of university was partying which is a scene familiar to you. this time, it’s on the beach, the salty air and sound of crashing waves echoing with the sound of the music and chatter. still though, you can’t help but scan the place as though looking for him among the crowd of people the same way you always would. you miss the way you’d find his eyes already on you, pools of brown dripping like honey on your skin. 
but he’s never there and you feel dirty whenever another man looks at you, their gazes too eager as they look at you as though you’re a piece of meat, never gentle like his as though you’re aphrodite herself walking among mere mortals. 
you miss him is the ugly truth. you miss him so fucking terribly it makes you angry. you don’t want to miss him. you no longer want to love him. loving him hurts, as though he’s clawing at your chest and squeezing your heart together in a sick sort of torture. 
but even before he touched you, you were his. all he had to do was look at you. you exist in two places – here and wherever he is. 
eventually as the night progresses on, you move away from the party. you’re in some fancy country club and the tile is expensive on your feet as you step out of your heels and walked towards the beach, feeling the cool sand against your skin. 
in hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been surprised to find him in a place like this but despite looking for him wherever you go, you’d never expect to find him. searching for him has become a comfort the same way longing for him has – in a sick, twisted and painful way. 
but he’s here now and in the one time you hadn’t searched for him, he found you. the moment you’d spotted his figure looking out at sea, he turned to you as though a gravitational pull connected you to him. 
one year, three months and fourteen days. that was the last time you saw him but he looked no different from the man who’d brought you back to your hotel room only to say goodbye. 
and then he smiled and it was as though the sun shone on you again. 
“honey,” he says and your heart trembles. 
daniel.
it was too early. and you’re drunk and you aren’t entirely sure if you were dreaming or not. 
but he stands before you, eyes of brown looking as though you’re aphrodite herself and he can’t quite believe he gets to stand before you. eyes of brown that seem to be sobbing without tears. daniel. 
you’re still not talking and he’s letting you, watching you so intently as though he’s memorizing your face. he looked the exact same but you know what he must be seeing. you look nothing like the woman he left behind. you’d cut your hair short and dyed it. long gone were your summer dress, replaced by tight fitting ones that showed off your body. you feel different and you tried so hard to make sure you wouldn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. you hated seeing the woman who couldn’t make him stay. 
but in his eyes, you see your reflection and you recognize her well. 
“daniel,” you muttered as the crashing waves touched your feet. would you love me now? you wanted to ask. 
he smiled again. “you look beautiful as you always are.”
please touch me, you wanted to beg. soft eyes and soft soft hands. you’re lonely without him. 
you manage a grin. “sure, old man.”
the laugh that he let out echoed against your soul. “i’m being honest.”
you missed him. god, you missed him so fucking much. 
but daniel still would not let himself love you. not yet, not now that you’re finally building something for yourself. you have friends and have set goals. not yet. 
“y/n!” someone calls from behind you but you’re hesitant to take your eyes off of daniel, terrified he’d become a figment of your imagination the moment you do. but your friend's familiar calls force you to. “come on, we have to go.”
you ignore her, turning back to daniel and he smiles at you, offering his hand for you to shake. this is the best he can offer for now. “i’ll see you around, kid.” 
you wanted to cry, wanted to scream that it’s so unfair, but you smile sadly as he shook his hand, his calloused fingers so familiar against yours. 
“in a few years,” you say. 
and as the ocean brought him back to you, the waves must return to the sea. 
but you were still gone and gone, gone and gone
the next time you see daniel again, you were twenty four. you’re in your last year of university, applying for your doctorate. you loved academia, you loved your two cats and your little apartment downtown, you loved science and the galaxy it holds and you eventually realized that this is why he let you go. he wanted you to have this — be more than someone who just follows a man around country after country. 
he wanted you to grow, wanted you to find the things you really loved without influence from him. he wanted you to find your independence and learn to stand on your own two feet. 
max brought you here. it’s his first world champion and as his self proclaimed best friend, he refused to allow you to skip this one and so you pulled up your big girl pants and got on with it, arriving in abu dhabi on friday.
by some cruel twist of fate, he’s the first person you find the moment you enter the paddock. it would have been rude to ignore him and so you smile even though you can clearly see the woman next to him and the way she stands close. 
goddamn it. 
it hurt. it hurt seeing her there. it hurt seeing her cluelessly smile at you. the way he looks at you now, eyes of brown full of silent apologies, looking as though he wanted to reach over and touch you, to comfort you. 
you release a shaky breathe, raising your hand in an pathetic attempt of a wave before you walk past him. you aren’t the same young kid like before. now, you have enough self reservation to not actively put yourself in a situation that would only hurt you. you don’t need to play besties with daniel’s new girlfriend. 
the moment you enter the red bull motorhome, you hit max at the back of his head.
“what?” he exclaimed as you glared at him. 
“you’re an idiot,” was all you said before moving towards your father. you’d ignore daniel and his girlfriend. you’re here to support max – even if he is a stupid idiot – and there’s no need for you to obsess over daniel. 
but of course, you still do anyway. even as you watch the race, you’re watching him. he looks good, amazing, fucking edible. he looks like he stepped right out of your dirtiest dreams, all thick neck and stable arms. he looks beautiful, absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking and you selfishly want him just for you. but you’ve always wanted that and you’ve never been allowed to have him.
and then you’re watching her. she’s grace herself, really. she’s exactly the kind of woman he needed and you wonder if she knows about you and then you wonder what it is about her. what is it about her that made it so that daniel thought she’s good enough for him to love when he never could you?
“mate, it’s getting creepy,” max said as he took the seat before you. he looks tired but he looks determined and the way the hair falls over his face makes you smile. max is a very special person to you and you know that he always will. you hold him close to your heart and you know you’d move the earth for him. 
you reach over, fixing the collar of his red bull shirt. “shut up.”
“her name’s caroline,” max says. “if you want to get to know her then just approach her.”
you glared at him. you don’t want to know her name. you don’t want to know what her laugh sounds like or the color of her eyes. you don’t want to know what made daniel fall in love with her. you don’t want to know her. 
“shut up,” you say again. “i’m still blaming you.”
max laughed and you think him annoying you might just be his way of distracting himself from the race so you let him. you let him talk on and on and on the entire time till he’s needed back in the motorhome. you let him steal yur ice cream and tap your nose. 
but when you turned back to her, caroline, you find him staring right back at you, anger and jealousy in those brown eyes you missed so much.
and it was like you’re twenty again, petty and young as you glared right back at him. he had no reason to be jealous when he has her beside him. he has no right to be jealous when he’s the one who’s never allowed the two of you to be more. 
these hands had to let it go free
that night, he called you for the first time in three years. his name lit up your phone and your hand shook as you picked it up. his picture, smiling up at you taken at your twentieth birthday stares right back at you. 
“daniel,” you breathe out as you press the phone against your ear. you’d arrived back in your hotel room two hours ago smelling of champagne and victory. max’s world championship trophy is laying next to you after being forgotten because your best friend was far too drunk to grab it before his girlfriend dragged him out. throughout the party, you avoided daniel like the plague, keeping to your side of the room and never straying towards him. 
“i missed you,” he says from the other end, voice cracking and slurring. he’s drunk and you push back the blanket as you enter the bathroom, hand gripping your phone. “but fuck it, i don’t miss this.”
“what are you saying?” 
“he’s my best mate, y/n.” there goes your name. not sweetheart or honey. he says your name like it’s sacred, something he’s only ever allowed to say when he’s at his most vulnerable, completely raw and baring his soul to you. “and i wanted to fucking punch his face the entire night.”
you close your eyes. this is familiar to you. daniel and his raw honesty when he’s drunk. daniel and his jealousy of max. this is all so familiar to you that you feel twenty again. you feel young and out of control and so drunk in love with a man you can’t have that it physically hurts. he’s ripped you off the past few years where you’ve grown into yourself. you’re twenty again and so tragically in love. 
“i wanted to punch his fucking face because his touching you, because i’m not allowed to touch you,” he continues as you sink to the floor. 
“you’re the only one who’s never let yourself touch me, daniel,” you whispered on the phone, broken down from one phone call.
he laughs bitterly and you might as well not have said anything. “and here i am, can’t even sleep next to my damn girlfriend because i keep thinking of you. it’s so unfair.”
you wanted to laugh too. unfair? how does he get to talk about unfair when he’d been the one to create this mess for the two of you? how dare he talk about being unfair when he’s the one who’s with another girl? this is unfair. it’s unfair to you. he doesn’t deserve to talk about it being unfair. 
the night he left you in your hotel room on your twenty first birthday, you’d called his name again and again like a child. you hoped by some magical thing that he’ll appear. you were desperate. 
“you shouldn’t have come back,” he says. “not yet. we both weren’t ready.” 
you wipe the tears falling to your cheeks. “and when will that happen? when will we be ready? maybe it’s time to accept that it isn’t us.” 
you heard him let out a shaky breath. “don’t say that. don’t say it.”
“i’m so tired of waiting. if it wasn’t us then and it isn’t us now, why do we still believe that it’s us someday?” 
“ask me to stay,” he whispers. “ask me to stay and i will. ask me to drop her and i will. i will drop everything if you ask me to.”
you cry, pulling your knees against your chest. “goodbye, dan.”
struggled through the night with someone new
the next time you see daniel again, you invited him.  you’re twenty five, it’s two thousand and twenty two, you’re engaged and you’d gotten arrogant. 
you met your fiance, james, in university. you’re in the same program and the same friend group though you never paid much attention to him. for the most part, you never really paid much attention to anyone. six months later and he asked you on a date, one you’d declined without a second thought. it didn’t matter how many guys asked you out, you always declined, daniel in the back of your mind always reminding you of what you’re truly waiting for. 
but james never treated you any differently. he never made it awkward and never put you on the spot. for the most part, you both acted like it never happened. but you applied to the same doctorate program and coincidentally  ended up in apartments right next to each other. he was a comfort, a friend you already knew that you could rely on. he never made anymore advances towards you but it was inevitable to grow closer. 
he’s stability and curiosity. he never once pulled back whenever you touched him or apologized for liking you. it was a breath of fresh air – to be admired so freely. you did your thesis together, hands tightly clamped together as you defended it. 
you were the one to ask james out on a date, knowing he wouldn’t again in fear of making you uncomfortable. and after leaning on each other as friends for so long, transitioning to become lovers was so easy, you didn’t have to worry what anyone would say or think of you. you didn’t have to worry what your family would think. everything was easy with him. 
james was so different from the type of love you were used to. you could love him without guilt, without pain and longing. you could love him simply, easily. you didn’t need to ask him to love you back, didn’t need to wonder if he’d still love you tomorrow. it was so easy being with him and you’d gotten lazy. waiting and hurting and crying for daniel was exhausting. 
you wanted a love you didn’t have to fight for. 
you’ve convinced yourself that you no longer felt anything for daniel, gaslighting yourself into believing that you’d close that chapter and left it in the past. you can move on now. there was no need for you constantly being miserable and lonely waiting for him to be ready. 
and yet here you were, your fiance’s arm around you as you stare at the front door. you shouldn’t have invited him. there was no reason for you to do so but you wanted to prove yourself. you wanted to prove to yourself that he no longer affected you. daniel is in the past and you’ve told yourself repeatedly that you’ve let him go but now you wanted to show yourself that you have. 
if you’re lucky, maybe he wouldn’t attend at all.
“are you okay, love?” james whispered against your ear, having noticed your stiff posture. you spent weeks planning your engagement party, stressing over the smallest details but now you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself. 
you loved this about him – the way he’s able to read you like an open book. james knows there was someone before him – someone who’d left you broken and torn apart. he just didn’t know that person would be attending today. 
you nod, taking a sip from the champagne glass you’d been holding as an excuse to stop your hands from fidgeting. “just a bit nervous from the crowd.”
“don’t worry too much. it’s just friends and family.” he gives you an assuring smile, accepting your reasoning as he pulls you closer towards him to try and comfort you. 
you’re an idiot, the biggest one there is. max told you himself after you told him that you sent the invite to daniel. you’re a massive idiot and you’re in denial and you set your own trap, tempting yourself when there was no need to and now you were going to hurt james because the moment daniel entered the room, your breath was knocked out of you, heart beating furiously as though it recognized him. 
it was daniel. how can you be so stupid? 
his eyes meets yours and you missed the way those eyes of brown settle on your skin, grazing as though his soul was touching yours. but they’re sad this time – sad and exhausted and defeated and you can practically hear the way your heart shatters. it was daniel. it has always been daniel. it will always be daniel. how stupid were you to think otherwise? how stupid were you to believe you could ever forgot the way your heart and soul roars back to life the moment he enters the room. 
you’ll break james’ heart, you’re breaking your own and you’ve broken his. 
the entire time, you and james had stood before the door, greeting all of your guests and showing them where they can wait. you absolutely had no plans to greet daniel. it was bad enough that he was here, but james, sweet sweet james, who had no idea what he was doing dragging you towards the formula one driver, hadn’t gotten the memo.
he didn’t know that having daniel’s eyes on you so close would set wildfires in your stomach and he didn’t know how exhausting and difficult it was to contain those wildfires. he didn’t know that he was burning himself as he all but dragged you in front of him. 
“hey,” your fiance says cluelessly. “daniel ricciardo!” 
daniel is looking at you and you feel frozen under his gaze. it’s heavy. he makes you feel heavy, like you were cheating on james simply by looking at you. you feel nauseous but with guilt eating up at every cell in your stomach. but you shouldn’t feel guilty. he had no right to make you feel guilty for moving on. he moved on. last you him, he had a girlfriend. why aren’t you allowed to do the same? why can’t you go on with your life and build a future with a nice man that isn’t him?
“i’m a big fan,” james says cheerfully, offering his hand for daniel to shake and forcing him to tear his gaze away from you. 
daniel forces a smile to his face, moving to shake his hand and you know this is the part where you’re supposed to introduce him. daniel is your guest after all and so you clear your throat, hoping your smile isn’t as stiff as you feel like it is. 
“james, this is my friend daniel. daniel, my fiance james.” you manage to let out, gripping your champagne glass to avoid having to touch either of them the same way you avoid the way daniel’s eyes hardened when the word fiance tumbled from your lips. 
“it’s really nice to meet you, mate,” james says with a massive smile. god he’s so nice and sweet and you hate what you’re doing to him. 
daniel says nothing, only smiling and you end this entire interaction the moment you get a chance to. pointing at the snacks table, you turned to him. “there’s food over there and max is around here somewhere. nice seeing you again, daniel.”
you were lying through your goddamn teeth. thankfully, he seems to have taken the hint, walking away without saying another word. 
the entire night, you feel his eyes on you. even as james makes his speech declaring his love for you, daniel stares at you with hooded eyes. he looks pissed and sad at the same time and you wanted to scream. stop looking at me! you couldn’t take anymore of this. he’s looking at you as though you’re under a microscope – staring into your soul like he could reach you there. 
you’re an idiot and now that he’s in the same room as you are, the illusion has left you. you’re not over daniel because you can never be over him. he’s engraved in your soul, his fingerprints all over your heart. he was, and still is, the sun that made your universe turn. you’re choking and you needed to get away lest you burst.
daniel is overwhelming. he’s terrifying and addicting and you hate him but you’re madly in love with him. and worse of all, you’ll spend the rest of your life being in love with him. you’ll spend the rest of your life wanting him and hurting for him and and longing for him and that’s a goddamn fucking tragedy. 
you manage to get through the party, practically dissociating yourself. eventually the guests leave one by one, only your family and closest friends left. you sit on the foyer with max, the dutchman watching you drink champagne straight out of the bottle.
“you shouldn’t have invited him,” he tells you quietly. “you were fucking yourself over.”
you roll your eyes. you stare inside the house where daniel is talking to your father. your dad offered his home for your engagement party. you know he likes james. your mother too and your little siblings can’t get enough of him. that fact almost makes you want to throw up. 
“i thought i was over him,” you say.
it’s max’s turn to roll his eyes. “you’re just a good liar. you’ll never be over daniel and he’ll never be over you. even i know that.”
you glared at him. you already know what he’s telling you and quite frankly, you had no desire to hear it again. “i hate you.” 
“neither you nor dan would survive this long without me.” max laughed and you threw the throw pillow at him. 
not that he’s lying. you met max the same time you did daniel and you clicked immediately. he knows everything, comforted you many times as you pined over dan. he’s your best friend and he’s also daniel’s best friend. he knows more than anyone how deep the connection you two shared. 
“go home already,” you tell him. you’re tired and slightly drunk and you just want to go to bed now. “and make sure you take him with you.” 
max laughed at the way you said him like it’s a bad taste on your tongue but did as you said anyways. 
that night, you laid on the bed you and james shared, you couldn’t sleep. he’s fast asleep next to you, his arm over your stomach as you lay wide awake. you shouldn’t have invited him because now he’s turned your world upside down again. everything you’ve built for yourself was gone the moment his eyes met yours. he’s a plague, sucking all the happiness out of you. 
eventually though, the restless night was about to get worse as you picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts till you found his name. you stared at it for a while, knowing that you shouldn’t but you’re rattled and your self control is at an all time low. you shouldn’t have been trusted to make any types of decisions. 
you come back to what you need
daniel was waiting for you when you parked your car outside his apartment building, hand gripping his phone as he watched you step out of the vehicle. four years since he first let you go and one year since he last saw you and you look as beautiful as you ever were.
he shouldn’t have told you to come but he’s so exhausted from staying away, from waiting for the right time. there will never be a right time and tonight, he’s done holding back. he wants you, he always has and he no longer has the energy to stop himself from wanting you. 
“i shouldn’t be here,” was the first thing you said as he opened the door for you. 
a lazy, almost mocking smile covered his lips. “and yet here you are.”
you glared at him but daniel’s heart was soaring. it’s been so long since you were this close. he can smell the perfume that followed you and the scent of your shampoo. he’s so so tired, he just wanted to hold you. 
he’s going to make this as hard as possible, you realize. you’re no longer a child, he doesn’t need to play nice and easy with you anymore. you’re a woman now and he’s going to treat you like one. but you just need to get over this. you need closure. you need to put him in the past where he truly belongs so you can go about your life. you need him out of your system. 
daniel may be everything you wanted but it’s time to accept that he’ll never be what you need. 
“why did you come?” you asked, wanting to get this over with as quickly as you can. three years pining for him in red bull and four years of longing for him and everything leads you here. 
daniel cocked an eyebrow. he’s done with playing nice. “you invited me.”
okay, you walked right into that one. “you still shouldn’t have come.” 
daniel wanted to laugh. “i guess we  both like doing shit that we shouldn’t do. now the question is, sweetheart, what are you doing here?” 
“i’m getting married, daniel,” you whispered. “we need to accept that it isn’t us.”
“i thought you did that in abu dhabi.”
he’s being an asshole. “you’re the one who told me to leave. you don’t get to be mad that i’m moving on.”
“you’re not moving on,” he laughed, leaning against the wall. 
you glared at him. “yes, i am. i’m getting married!” 
he looked at you as though you said something hilarious and you wanted to punch him in the face for it. “and yet you’re here.” 
“for closure.”
he stepped towards you and you found yourself holding your breath. from this close, you can see the freckles on your cheeks, the ones you used to spend all your time trying to memorize. the curve of his plump lips and the intensity in his eyes. and when he touched, it felt like the first drop of rain after a million years of dessert. his hand perfectly fitted on your hips, warm and so achingly familiar. 
his hand snaked from your hip to your legs, finger light on your skin as he ever so slightly tugged at your shorts. you need to pull away but your body needs him closer. you want him. you want him to get closer. you want him to touch you more, to feel his skin against yours. you can have every single inch of his body pressed against yours and you’d still begged to get closer. 
his lips graze your cheek before it reaches your ear, even breathes in contrast to your desperately shaky ones. “is that really what you want, baby?”
with every ounce of sanity you have left, you forced yourself to nod and you can feel the way his lips formed into a mocking smile against your cheek. 
“really?” he mocked. “then why are you clutching my shirt like you want more?”
you hadn’t even realized the way your fist is holding on to his shirt, pulling him closer towards you like you’re terrified he’d disappear right between your fingertips. 
“fuck,” you muttered, the heat of his skin against yours dizzying. james is nowhere near your mind as your hand slips under his shirt, self control flying out the window as you feel the curves of his abs. you want him. you’ve always wanted him so desperately that you’re willing to go to hell for it. “fuck me.” 
he kissed you then, fire in his lips as it finally finally touched yours. this is all you’ve ever asked for and it’s worth the damnation you’d be paying in return. you pull him impossibly closer, going on your tiptoes. you need to get closer. closer, closer, closer. 
like an addicted chainsmoker to cigarettes, you can’t get enough of his kiss. you want to inhale the fumes of his breath, of him, deep into your lungs. he tugs at your shirt and you pull away enough for him to get it off. 
you grunt in complaint when he pulled away from you, only to swallow it back as his lips attached to the skin of your chest, licking and nibbling as it slowly made it way down. 
“oh,” you breathe out as he lips attached to your breast, your fingers tugging at his curls as his tongue circled your nipple. 
you should have stopped him the moment his hand unbuttoned your shorts but as he bent you over and his hand slipped between your folds and he trapped your moans with his mouth, you were far too gone. god be damned, morality be damned. you’d crawl through hell for this. 
but eventually, reality comes knocking and morning comes and your bliss ends. you woke up from your phone ringing, cocooned in daniel’s arms. 
“don’t answer it,” he mutters but sleepily, you grab your phone from the nightstand, seeing james’ name on your screen. 
and that snaps you out of it, being reminded of what happened the night before and what you did and you all but jumped out of his arms as though his touch burned you. 
“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you hurriedly put on your clothes, daniel watching you still naked from his place on the bed. you turned to him, “this never happened.”
you watched as anger slowly filled his eyes. “are you being serious right now?” 
“i’m getting married, daniel!” you’re panicking now, screaming as your phone rings again. 
“then why the fuck were you knocking on my door at two in the morning?” 
you ignore him, gathering your things. “it was a mistake.”
he’s glaring at you now, looking like he wanted to start screaming. but he remains silent, only glaring as you gather your things and put on your clothes. 
you look at him again, apologies and sorrow in your eyes. “i’m sorry but this isn’t me. this can’t be me.”
and then you left, not allowing yourself to look back as you ran to your car. maybe in a parallel universe or a different world, you sit next to each other at the kitchen table and go over the grocery list, but for all the universes and worlds there are, this one was not enough, not for now and not for you and daniel. 
when you finally arrive home, your father is in the kitchen, eyeing you up as you walk past him. “where were you? james was looking for you.” 
you grimace. there’s a knowing look in christian’s eyes as though whatever you reason he already knows will be a lie. and unfortunately, he’d be right. “i was out with friends.”
“at seven in the morning?” he narrowed his eyes and you hated his timing. of all times, did he have to question you now? 
“breakfast.” 
you all but run to your room before he can question you further, thanking all the gods that james isn’t there. for a moment, you stood stunned, reeling from the past twenty four hours as the guilt settles in your chest. you need to get as far away from daniel as you possibly can. you can’t be the type of woman who cheats on her fiance. you refuse to be. you refuse to break a good man’s heart like that. 
and yet as you finally calm down enough to try and fix yourself, your phone buzzes, his name appearing on your screen saying he sent you a text message. 
daniel i’ve loved you in every way i can. i loved you selfishly and so i tried loving you distantly, i tried loving you selflessly, i tried loving you correctly but i just want to love you now. if i could do it all over again, i would love you better but i can’t love you more than i do now.
this love came back to me
the wind is chilly as you step foot in hungary and the dress you wore is definitely not meant for it but still, you persevere, finding your way to the red bull motorhome and greeting your father. the last time you attended a grand prix was abu dhabi 2021 and yet it still feels like home. 
“there’s my biggest fan!” max cheered the moment he saw you, immediately wrapping his arms around you. he hasn’t seen you for nearly a year and he missed his best friend. to be fair, no one has seen you for nearly a year, disappearing from the face of the earth after your failed engagement. 
after the night of your engagement party, the guilt ate you alive as you realized that you were exactly the kind of girl you didn’t want to be and so you came clean to james. he screamed and cried and said you could work it out but you were exhausted from lying to yourself. as long as there was daniel, you can never be happy with anyone else and no man deserve to be someone you simply settled with. 
you realized then that you’d lost yourself. you don’t know who you are, don’t know who you’ve become and so you left everything you know, ignoring everyone’s calls as you attempt to find yourself. 
“actually, i’m supporting ferrari,” you joke once max finally lets you go. 
“i’ll disown you!” your father screamed from across the garage, making you and max laugh. 
“have you seen him?” max asked, whispering as though he’s telling you a secret.
you shake your head. coincidentally enough, or ironically, the first gp you attend in a while, daniel is announced to race in. and max, quite frankly, is far too excited for the two of you to see each other again. he’s had enough watching you both be stupid. 
after catching up with max and the mechanics you still know, you find yourself in a cafe with your father, talking about everything and nothing at all. christian watched your every move and you can see the worry in his eyes. he’s part of the people you ran from and you know that it was a cruel thing to do to your father. 
and then he was there and you’re all too familiar with the feeling of your world freezing the moment your eyes meet. he looks better, happier and you’re sure you look different too, hopefully more grown. 
“you’re here,” he says, unbelieving. 
you smile, genuine and free this time. “i’m here.” 
and this time around, you were both tired of fighting it. it’s him. it’s always been him. there was no point denying it. he’s the only person you’ll ever want. you are totally and irrevocably in love with him – the kind of love that’s so intense it feels like an explosion of fireworks throughout your whole body. the love that leaves you sleepless but exhilarated, speechless but poetic, lost but exactly where you're meant to be. 
and in that moment, your lives flashed before your eyes – marriage, children, growing old together. 
daniel ricciardo is the defining moment, the collision of stars that slammed into you so hard it tore your heart in pieces and only he can put it back together again. 
he smiles at you and you smile back. 
hello, love, welcome home.
and finally, finally, it felt like the world isn’t burning anymore. 
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taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq @the6ccnsp6cyy @t-nd-rfoot @navixfr @xjval @gridbunny
@heyoooo1111 @littlefreaksatellite @imxthunderstorms @o0itsjustme0o @bigdickdannyric1 @hellomumitsme @llarue @ironmaiden1313 @magic-s0ul @lynnthinksthings @vainbimbo @3khaos @chimchimjiminie16 @lost-heartbeat @thxtmarvelchick @s4dgir1jaehyun @dreaminofpoison @lewishamiltonstuff @mk15x @angywritesstuff @that-aesthetic-chic @artemis-medusa @capbuckybuchanan @moonvr @softsakusas @closhelby @
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eddiesxangel · 1 year ago
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would LOVE a follow up to the brother’s best friend eddie fic where adam finds out they hooked up and just kinda loses it. maybe some angst with a happy ending if you do? i love the fic and thought all the details and feelings were perfect!
I'm so glad you enjoyed the first part! I hope this is up to your expectations. 🤗
cw: Allusions to smut, Mentions of depression, angst with a fluffy ending.
Tag list from part 1: @lofaewrites @lavendermunson @imyourdaninow@itsfreakingbats @allthingsjoeq
Wc: 2k
Read Part 1 here
What Adam Doesn’t Know | Eddie Munson x f!Reader
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Ten days. It has been ten days since you slept with Eddie, and you haven't heard a word from him since he kissed you goodbye that next morning. He confessed to having feelings, so why is he treating you like a one-night stand? He hasn't taken any further steps since he fucked you. The situation left you feeling angry, frustrated and used. You wanted to talk to him, but you'll be damned if you were the one to reach out first. Sure, you were stubborn, but you also loved him. So you waited to give him another chance.
Eddie thought things would be okay after he got you out of your system. He just needed to scratch the itch that was you. Wrong.
Eddie was even more obsessed with you and didn’t know what to do about it. He knew Adam would be so not okay with this. He has already expressed his disdain about Eddie pursuing you.
Adam and Eddie have been through a lot together. Adam supported Eddie through family struggles and being held back in high school. Adam has always been there for Eddie, no matter what. The guilt is eating away at him...if he's hiding the fact that he slept with you and has developed feelings for you? He was screwed.
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You were browsing the junk food aisle at the grocery store. Try to pick up your favourites to help you wallow in self-pity and eat your feelings. Just as you were to reach for the Doritos, you heard your name.
“Tink,” you look over your shoulder.
“Oh. Hi Eddie,” you turn back to face the aisle.
“Tink, please; I’m sorry”
“No, I get it. I’m just another notch on your belt.”
“No. You are the last thing from that, and you know it.”
“Do I, Eddie?”
“Ugh, I know! I know I screwed up. But let me explain? Please?”
“You have five minutes.”
“I’m sorry, Tink. I’m not avoiding you on purpose… it’s just that Adam had said something, and I didn’t want to keep this from him, but I didn’t know what you wanted to do... We didn't get to talk much.”
“What did he say?”
“He said that you and I were never going to happen. That he thinks it’s ridiculous.”
“So what, you believe him?”
“What? No!”
“So what, Eddie? Adam is a moron.”
“And so am I for not calling you. Please let me make it up to you. I want to take you on a date.”
“A date?” Your heart betrayed you by fluttering.
“Yes, a real all-American date. I’ll pick you up; I’ll bring you flowers. I can take you to dinner, then I’ll take you to the movies where we can suck face, and you let me feel you up in the back of the theatre. The whole shebang”
This made you giggle.
“What do you say?”
“Okay, Eddie,” you smiled.
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It was late morning, and you were waking up in Eddie's bed. It's been three weeks since you ran into him in the grocery store. You were officially dating' you were Eddie's girl, and I couldn't be any happier.
You weren’t dating secretly because Robin and Nancy knew about the relationship, but you weren’t telling Adam... yet.
"Morning baby," Eddie's gravelly morning voice sent a shiver down your spine. You were both naked under the covers. Eddie's morning wood was pressed up against your outer thigh as you lay on your back.
"Morning," you reply, still sleepy.
"You cold?" Eddie saw the goosebumps pepper your skin.
"mmm hmmm"
"Well, let me fix that," he smirked.
Eddie had you on all fours, screaming his name over and over as he fucked you from behind. He was so deep inside you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He had you so cockdrunk you couldn't form any thoughts. In your opinion, it was one of the best times you've had, but any time you have sex with Eddie, it seems to top that last.
As you flop down on the bed, all blissed out from your orgasm and your limbs feeling like jelly, Eddie gets up to get a damp cloth to clean you up.
You watched as Eddie pulled on his sweatpants and walked out of the room.
Eddie unexpectedly saw Adam sitting on his couch watching TV as he exited his bedroom.
"What the hell?! Shit man, you scared me.” Eddie chuckled uncomfortably. God, he hoped you stayed in the room.
“So this the same chick you keep blowing me off for?” He motioned to the bedroom, obviously hearing everything.
“W-what are you doing here?”
“We were jamming.”
“Shit, oh god, dude i'm sorry, I lost track of the time-”
“I can’t be too mad; she sounded like a really good time.” He winked.
“Adam.”
"What?! You really fucked her brains out. She was all, oh my god, Eddie, you're the best. You're the biggest I've ever had," he said in a high-pitched tone.
You swore you heard Eddie speaking but didn't hear the phone ring?
“Baby, what’s taking so long? I miss you.” You walk out of the room not bothering to put on anything. “Ahhhhhhhhh!” You run back screaming into the bedroom when you see your bother.
“DUDE WHAT THE FUCK”
“Man, I can explain.”
“YOURE FUCKING MY SISTER”
“Well yea but it’s not like that… I like her dude”
“How long.”
“What”
“How long have you been going behind my back”
“Look we were going to tell you”
You bravely walk back out with a shirt and pants on this time
“Adam, calm down, please.” You beg as you intertwine your fingers with Eddie. He needs your support.
“Calm down?!”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been going behind my back, Ed?”
“The first time was a month ago.” You spoke up.
“How did this even happen?”
I found her crying walking home in the rain; she needed a place to stay...”
“Oh well, isn't that romantic... NOT”
“Adam, you seriously need to chill the fuck out,” you ask.
“Fuck you.” Adam directed back to you.
“Hey!” Eddie got defensive.
“You don’t get to be mad right now.” Adam pointed out.
“You’re being so unfair, Adam.” you spoke.
“Unfair? I’ll give you unfair. Eddie you have to choose right now. It’s me or her.”
“What !?” You cried.
“Come on, man...” Eddie begged.
“No, dude. You can’t have us both. It’s either me or her.”
You can't believe your brother. He is being so childish. Can't he see the good in the situation?
“Tink I…” Eddie's voice shook.
“No... I get it. You can’t ever choose me over him.” You tried so hard not to let your voice crack.
Oh, how you wished you were a kid again to wallop Adam.
“You take everything nice thing I have and ruin it. You did that with my stuff and my toys. And now you’re doing it with my real life, and it’s fucked up, Adam. Be lucky that I don’t tell Mom and Dad.”
“They can’t do anything. I’m an adult.”
“Then start acting like one and not some kid who got his truck stolen on the playground.” With that, you slammed the door behind you.
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It has been two weeks since you left Eddie's apartment. You have yet to speak to either Eddie or Adam since then. Unfortunately, you both had to go home for Reading week, and your only option for a ride home was with Adam. It was a very silent hour-long car ride as Adam drove home the both of you. You refused to speak to him.
You didn't even know why you respected Adam's wishes; he couldn't tell you what to do! But then again, they were Eddie's wishes as well.
You hugged your mom and dad hello and went to your old bedroom. There, you stayed for the night, not coming down to eat or socialize. Your mother was worried. She knew something was wrong.
“Honey. Is there anything you want to talk about?” She opened the door the next morning.
“Yea. You birthed the spawn of Satan.”
“So this is about your brother...” she sighed. She must be really tired of having to be in the middle of you two fighting all the time. “What happened?”
You can no longer hold in your feelings. The only people who know are Robin and Nancy because you broke down when you returned to your apartment.
“I finally had Eddie! Like he actually likes me back, Mom!” It was no secret to your family that you’ve been obsessed with Eddie Munson your whole life. “He likes me, and Adam made him choose between me and him! So obviously, he chooses Adam!" Now you’re sobbing.
“What? Why would he do that?”
“Because he has to take everything good in my life and ruin it. It’s been that way ever since we were kids.”
“Honey…”
“You know it’s true. So now I’m heartbroken because I got to experience what it was like to be with him, and it was ripped out from under me.” She sighed again as she stroked your hair.
“I’m going to have your father speak to him.”
“Like that will do anything.” You mumble.
The next day, you decide you need to leave your room.
You’re in what you call your depression outfit. A hoodie, actually, it’s Eddie’s, sweatpants, matched with your throw blanket wrapped around you.
You plant yourself on the couch for the rest of the day. Most of your spring break consisted of being depressed and moving from the couch to your bed. Were you being dramatic? Yes, but you needed to prove a point. You needed Adam to see how his selfishness affected you.
"You really still not speaking to me?" Adam finally breaks the silence on your way back to school.
You don't even look in his direction.
"Come on, Tink! This is ridiculous!"
"No! You are ridiculous. You may have your best friend choose between you and his girlfriend.
"Girlfriend?!"
Yea, Adam. We were together. Like together, together. We weren't just fucking behind your back."
"I- I didn't-"
"You wouldn't have because you didn't, let's explain. You made it the Adam special. Like you always do. Newsflash, not everything is about you."
"Well, it freaked me out! I didn't want to lose him to you."
"How could you lose him to me? If anything, you would see more of me, not the other way around."
"Ugh!"
"How is he doing?" You dared to ask.
"He's miserable." He mumbled.
"Oh, Adam."
"Yea, yea, I know I have to fix this."
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Adam pulls up to your student housing unit, and you can see Eddie sitting on your front porch. You sprint out of the car before Adam even puts the car in park, running into Eddie's arms, not caring about what Adam sees.
“I can’t do this. I can’t not see you or talk to you. I’ve been miserable without you.” He wraps his arms around you.
“Eddie-” your heart swelled. He was choosing you.
“Please, I don’t care what Adam says anymore. He can get over it. He will get over it. But I have to be with you.”
"Hey, man," Adam greeted.
"Hey," you moved so you faced Adam, but Eddie's arm was still wrapped around your shoulder.
"Look, I uh... I overreacted, and if she makes you happy, then... I guess I'm cool with it." He shrugged.
"Thanks, Man." You looked up to see Eddie smiling.
"I don't want to hear about any more sext stuff between you two. I still have PTSD." He laughed uncomfortably.
With that, Eddie got your bags from the car, and Adam left the two of you to be alone.
You walked into your house, and the girls weren't back yet; they wouldn't be coming back until tomorrow.
"You came back for me." You smiled before tilting your head up to kiss him.
“I was not letting him take away the best sex I’ve ever had; he can get over it.”
“The best sex you’ve ever had, huh?”
“With the best girl I’ve ever had.” He smiled before you led him to your bedroom...
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iamnmbr3 · 5 months ago
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Can we do multiples for this? If so, #8 and #12 for Drarry please 🥺👉🏻👈🏻
Sure!
8. Unpopular opinion about them
I am not a fan of drarry being depicted in canon universes as either 'cool masculine action hero harry'/'damsel in distress fragile draco' or 'sweet but kinda dumb and blundering harry'/'calm cool and collected ice prince draco' or 'enemies who still loathe and distrust each other postwar to very reluctant openly hostile allies to lovers.' All these dynamics are fine if you want to read/write them but the thing is...at least to me...they aren't drarry. And by reducing the characters to those dynamics you end up missing out on a lot of the nuance that makes the characters special and the ship interesting and you kinda flatten them into something pretty generic.
Contrary to popular fanon Harry is not dumb. He was supposed to be in Slytherin for a reason. He's very clever and observant and resourceful. And while he can be very kind and compassionate he also can be deadly when he needs to be and has a real temper that many people, even those close to him (though interestingly not Draco), can find intimidating at times. Draco also is a very good Occlumens and definitely matures a lot, but he's also not someone who is innately cold and dignified, much as he might wish to be. He's hot and firey and emotional too - just like Harry - but presents that in different ways. And yes in later books Draco often overcomes and masters his fears and emotions - because he has to - but it's not easy for him, and sometimes it all comes bursting out. And that makes him interesting and complex and human.
However Draco is also not a fragile damsel in distress. By the end of the series he is no longer the sheltered boy who once dramatically claimed to be "dying" because Buckbeak scratched him. He's been branded with the Dark Mark, been tortured by Voldemort himself, and used Unforgivables on others in turn - even if under duress. He's had to survive living with Voldemort and his followers in his house while he and his family were out of favor and virtually defenseless. He showed himself to be far more clever and resourceful than many would have given him credit for during book 6. In book 7 despite knowing intimately the terrible fate he was likely condemning himself and his family to if Harry & Co escaped, he didn't reveal the fact that he saw Ron & Harry had freed themselves from their bonds in the cell and didn't identify Harry and his friends, which bought them the time they needed to get away. He also held his own in a duel against Harry - who is extremely skilled - due to his quick reflexes, powerful magic, and strong ability to use nonverbal spells. Draco is tough and powerful in his own right, especially after the war and wouldn't just collapse into frightened hysterics at the slightest danger or find himself unable to fend off an angry group of younger students during 8th year.
He and Harry are equals and foils and parallels and opposites all at once. That's what makes their dynamic so interesting. They can stand up to each other and they never are afraid of each other - even when logic says they should be - and their skills and abilities and temperaments are extremely complimentary.
Also I love a good 'toxic dark bitterest of foes to lovers' fic but again, that doesn't feel like postwar drarry. They couldn't bring themselves to hate each other at the height of the war. Harry spent most of book 7 worrying about Draco. Draco risked everything for Harry at the Manor. They're not going to suddenly start a bitter feud after all the pressures pitting them against each other are gone. Postwar Draco would feel guilt and regret over his actions. And Harry, who lied for Draco after the Astronomy Tower Incident in book 6, is unlikely to suddenly decide he's angry Draco didn't end up in Azkaban. (Which is not to say he might not be suspicious of or curious about Draco's activities - but it wouldn't come from a place of hatred or openly vicious aggression.)
What's so fascinating and unique about this ship is that for all they are rivals and later enemies on the opposite sides of a war they don't hate and distrust each other the way you'd expect. Yes there's enmity and hostility. Yes they have to fight each other sometimes. But they also understand each other so deeply. And whenever one of them is actually in danger they always, always save each other.
It is this complex and contradictory relationship that makes them so interesting to me. And so unique compared to a lot of other ships and ship dynamics.
(I also wrote about an unpopular opinion for Draco here.)
12. Crack headcanon
There was a 7 year long 'will they or won't they' betting pool among an ever widening circle of students traumatized by having been subjected to their shenanigans.
Send me a character/ship from any fandom and a number.
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s0urw00lf · 5 months ago
Text
Rewrite the stars
Pairing: Sirius black x reader
Summary: you and Sirius have been in love since you were mere teenagers, but life seems to have other plans for the both of you.
Warning: angst and heartbreak
AN: I hope this makes you cry because I cried writing it. This was supposed to be a song fic but I don’t know how I feel about making characters sing I feel so awkward writing it so this is what it ended up as.
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Your life had been damned since the day you were born. At a young age you Sirius and regulus would sit in the garden under the stars as you rambled on about random things. “I think our lives are written out in the stars.” You said laying on your back. Sirius and regulus turned to you “how do you mean?” Sirius asked, regulus hummed along as he always does, he’s the more quiet out of the three of you. You smiled looking at the stars with so much adoration “we all have a destiny right? I believe it was written in the stars, and we just cant read it how we would if it was in a book” seven year old you said. “I think each star represents one person's destiny, that’s why some shine brighter than others”. Sirius smiled “do you think were written in the stars?” He asked, causing regulus to sit up, also wondering. You giggled “I don’t know silly, that’s kind of the point.” You said, “but, i like to think we are” you said pointing to the brightly shining row of three stars. Two closer together than the other.
Now ten years later you sat alone at the end of the slytherin table, body rigid, just as anyone’s would be these days. But for you especially, you were terrified, and the only person who could bring you out of that headspace was sitting across the room with his longtime group of friends. You stared at him, the light in his eyes made you envious, angry that your eyes no longer shone like that. But it made you happy that he got out, out of this life. At least one of you had. You and regulus hadn’t been able to, now your parents are forcing you into a marriage. You and regulus are best friends with no romantic feelings for eachother whatsoever. But your parents had not one care and had been best friends with his parents since they were young and in hogwarts themselves. The deal had been set in stone some before you were born. Except it was supposed to be with Sirius. “Your staring again” You hadn’t noticed when regulus had sat down but you were happy he broke your trance before you had the chance to humiliate yourself yet again.
“Have i ever told you how grateful i am for you” you joked, though your tone had nothing humorous about it. He filled his plate not even looking up at you “not nearly enough as you should, but yes” he answered. You huffed out a laugh “yeah well i am” regulus hummed, like he did since you were kids. You never really minded that he was quiet, more so because you were too but also because it left you alone with your thoughts. “You should eat, you’ve been doing a lot less of that lately” he said pushing a plate towards you. You sighed looking down at the plate of food you weren’t even aware he prepared. You ate a little over half of the food before you felt eyes on you.
immediately you knew where it was coming from. You looked across the room, meeting eyes with this brown ones your heart longed to wake up every morning to. You longed to be with him so bad it made your chest hurt physically. The only thing that had kept you going so far were the meetings you had in a room you didn’t know existed until Sirius caught you walking alone in the halls and dragged you to it.
He nodded his head slightly, and you nodded back. That was the confirmation that you’d meet tonight after dinner. You broke eye contact with him and looked to the darke he aired curly head in front of you who’s head was down as he read his book while eating. “Can you cover for me again?” You asked. His eyes looked up at you from his heads lowered position. Rolling his eyes he nodded “just don’t stay out as late again” he said. You smiled “regulus black you are a gift sent straight from heaven” you joked before finishing your food.
Now it’s around 11:00 at night and you and regulars were finishing your rounds around the school. Somehow (very obvious how) you both had been elected as prefects. So you had a little more freedom after the other kids went to bed. You not to subtly parted from regulus, when you reached the corridor that lead to the room you and Sirius had been meeting in.
When you arrived he was already there in all of his glory. He was sat with his head down and brown locks covered his face. You guessed he hadn’t heard you come in because hes head remained down. “Siri?” You spoke, his head immediately shot up, his brown eyes slightly wide. “Are you okay?” You asked, he nodded standing up to walk toward you. “I’m fine, love” he confirmed. Your heart soared at the nickname.
he grabbed your hand softly and just held it examining your face with soft eyes. “I- i have a crazy, probably very idiotic idea.” He murmured, you giggled “you have a lot of those” you joked lightly, “i know i do” he laughed but his expression quickly grew serious “But i want you to hear me out”
the air in the room grew tense, “Sirius what are you on about?” You asked, growing worried. There were very few scenarios where Sirius was actually serious ‘Ironic’. Worry etched onto your face, and Sirius saw that. He leaned in to kiss your forehead bringing his hands to hold the back of your head. His lips were soft and gentle as always. He pulled away but the tip of his nose was still grazing your hairline “come live at the potters with me” he said. Your heart dropped, you pulled away to see if he was toying with you. He wasn’t, his expression mirrored determination. “You must be joking” you muttered, still not believing the words that slipped through his soft lips. He shook his head “i'm not”.
you pulled away completely, turning away from him while running a hand through your hair, your heart raced with anxiety at the mere thought of it. Puting all of these people in danger. “Sirius, that is absolutely insane, even for you. I mean you can't possibly have thought this through” you stressed. He rushed toward you and quickly but gently turned you face him again. “I have i swear” he defended. You shook your head “you cant have. All of the people that would endanger. All of your friends, regulus, you, me?” You listed. “I’ve talked to James and his parents, love they miss you. I miss you” he begged. You frowned tears filling your eyes “and I you, but you know the lengths my parents will go to keep me under their control, and regulus, i can't just leave him.”
“We can bring him too” you laughed incredulously at his statement. “You and regulus have barely spoken a word to each other since you left home” you stated. A silence covered the room like a blanket, both of you not sure what to say “i would do… anything… to have you back” he murmured, his eyes were glossy and full of tears. “I would too, but i guess we weren’t written in the stars” you mumbled, not trusting your voice to speak at full volume.
At that moment you could see recognition and hurt flash in his eyes. The reminder of that night all that time ago, when he’d asked you if the two of you were written in the stars. So much had changed since then and you wasn’t sure when it all started and you hated that it had to be this way but you had to protect him.
Sirius then dropped down to his knees, grabbing bit of your hands “Y/n please. I am begging you, come with me. We can protect each other, we’ll run away and hide” his voice shook as tears flowed freely down his face. You held back a sob, tears clouded your vision and all you could see was a muddy outline of him. “There is not a place in this planet that they wouldn’t find me, if I go I’m a danger to you all and I won’t let that happen.” You cried, Sirius dropped his head against your lower stomach and cried, you felt his tears soaking your sock.
You joined him on your knees resting your head on his shoulder, and he rested his on yours. “There is nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you. To have children and watch them grow up. To see them off to Hogwarts every year. Nothing.” You whispered broken.
“But we can’t” Sirius finished for you, you nodded “but we can’t” you repeated almost inaudibly. After a while of sitting in each other's embrace Sirius lifted his head from your shoulder, causing you to lift yours. You took in his broken expression. red eyes, rosy cheeks and nose, and you were sure he was doing the same to you. “Kiss me, before we part ways Sirius please” you begged, you would’ve felt pathetic begging for anyone else but Sirius was different. You were meant to be, just maybe not in this life.
He gently placed his hands on your cheeks, thumbs rubbing your skin “are you sure?” He asked. You nodded frantically, “yes just please” your tone pleaded. He nodded with a soft smile, he began to lean in and your breath hitched, you could feel your body tingling from excitement and desire. You were sure your cheeks were red from how hot your face felt. When his lips met yours butterflies erupted in your stomach. His lips were soft and you could taste hints of honey from the chapstick he wore all the time. Your lips moved in unison almost like a practiced routine. Your hands found his hair and the kiss deepened, nothing harsh you just poured your hearts into this one kiss. You pulled away, feeling your chest tightening from the lack of breath.
You both breathed heavily in efforts to catch your breath, your eyes eventually met, and the air released all tension. “I’m glad we did that,” he whispered. “Me too,” you replied with a smile.
“When this war is over and your parents are gone, I’m gonna marry you” he said. You smiled sadly, you both knew the possibility of the good winning the war were slim and your parents dying were even slimmer but it wouldn’t stop you from keeping up hope. “I should go” you forced yourself to say. Sirius frowned. He knew that this was probably your last spontaneous meeting and he wasn’t ready to watch you walk away yet but in all honesty he wouldn’t ever be ready. So he nodded “okay” he said, he didn’t fight or resist and you thanked the heavens above because is he had you weren’t sure you would’ve left. “I love you Sirius black” your voice broke. “And I you y/n l/n”
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urinarythreatinfection · 2 months ago
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Alright since you want requests, how about good ol Sanji figuring out that he likes a guy? Lmao.
Poor Sangni. You know for all the shit people (me too) give him, he kinda turned out really good compared to all the things he went through. Also I ❤️ comments on my fics.
Confusion in My Love
Sanji x male reader. fluff. tw for for internalized homophobia. Contains a medium fishman island spoiler. 1375 words.
It’s known that Sanji has an innate preference towards women, and an innate hate towards men. It’s a fact of life the same way the sky is blue, or it was until you. He acts differently around you, a man. Not how he treats Luffy or Zoro, no, there’s something else. Something that makes him weak towards you, something that makes it so when you make a mistake he doesn’t feel like getting angry or mocking you. Something that’s making him feel different.
“Sanji!” His heart skips a beat when he hears your voice while giving Nami and Robin their beverages. “Can I get one too?” You ask with a smile. Everyone expects him to say no, right about now he’d be too “busy” fawning over the women, after all. Schedule full. However…
“Alright.” …he agrees. Like it was instinct, before he could even realize what he was agreeing to. It causes everyone to go silent except for Luffy, who hadn’t realized what was weird until Usopp whispered it in his ear. Sanji knows it’s weird too, but he’d already said yes to you, and he just can’t bring himself to change his mind. So he retreats instead. To the kitchen, his oasis, to make your drink. Once he’s inside he crouches down and puts his head in his hands. “Why did I say that!?” He yells at himself. This stupid something has only been getting worse. Not being as angry at you to not wanting to get angry at you to complimenting you. Now he’s even making a midday beverage for you like he would with a lady! “Why am I doing this!?” He stands up and starts to make the drink, keeping himself busy will surely help him stop thinking about it, but it fails. It’s only when he’s poured the finished product inside the glass that he spots his reflection, his face with flushed cheeks. He touches them as his heart beats faster, is he sick? That has to be it there’s now way, right? Nonono he loves women he’s a woman lover, men are disgusting creatures that he would never develop romantic love for! However the more he thinks about it the more everything he feared and denied is coming together, making his repressed emotions crash down on him.
“Hey, Sanji?” You walk into the kitchen and find him with his elbows on the counter, head in his hands. “Damn if you really didn’t want to make me the drink you don’t have to force yoursel-” You notice tears dripping on the marble “-are you crying!?” When he spots you they flow from his eyes harder.
“hic..unng…” He puts his face back into his hands, sobbing as his emotions overwhelm him, stronger from all the years of internalized homophobia from misinformation. If he’s gay does that mean he has to crossdress all the time now? He likes his suit though… now he just made himself cry more. He feels like a stupid little kid again. You go up to him, confused but rubbing his back as he lets everything out and tries to imagine all the things he’s going to end up doing now that he’s gay. Cooking with long nails, fighting with dresses, having to do makeup every morning, saying kya…
“Sanji what’s up with you, man? Did having to make a free drink for a guy make you this heartbroken?” Crazy conclusion but he’s almost died from a nosebleed so it isn’t that out of the question.
“I’m gay…” He sniffles. “What do I do?”
“Huh??” You look at him with a confused expression. “You’re crying because you’re gay? Sanji it’s not something to be ashamed of, Luffy isn’t going to kick you off the ship. I’m not even sure he knows or even cares what that means.”
“Maybe, but how am I going to cook with long nails?” He looks at his hands in despair. “And is he going to accept me if I wear dresses and makeup?”
“Do you… want to wear dresses and makeup?” The blonde wipes his eyes when you question him.
“..maybe.” Sanji mumbles then quickly yells after. “I don’t know!”
“I feel like you have a misconception on what being gay is. I don’t know what you’re thinking but you don’t have to do anything to be gay besides being attracted to the same sex.”
“But the ladies…” He still wants to like women, he doesn’t know what that means.
“Sanji there are other options besides gay or straight, you can like both men and women, and you don’t have to do whatever you’re thinking if you don’t want to. You’d be a beautiful crossdresser or non-crossdresser. In fact, you don’t even need to be a crossdresser to wear makeup. I don’t- I- How did you even come to this conclusion.”
“In Kambakka.” He states, that makes sense.
“Oh.” You scratch the back of your neck. “Well I don't think them being gay is the reason they’re that way. Did they not tell you this?” He shakes his head. “Yeah well I guess they wouldn’t have expected for you to be this-” ‘ignorant’ “-uh.. mal-informed. Anyway I mean what I say. You’re still you and you get to be you. How did you end up figuring out you liked men anyway?
“Ugh…” He feels stupid now, getting emotional over nothing as he wipes his eyes. “It’s because I like y-” Sanji stops, immediately sobering up once he realizes his mistake. “yyyyoung men my age.”
“Oh? Did you see someone you liked at the last island?” You’re starting to get curious and his face goes red again as he sputters, blue eyes swimming around for an escape when he remembers the drink he made you. He grabs it and quickly gives it to you.
“Here! I finished it not too long ago, drink it while it’s still fresh.” You grab onto it, accepting he doesn’t want to talk. This must be a vulnerable moment for him.
“Well, okay. Just know whatever you end up being, I still care about you, kay?” You smile at him and he heats up more, his feelings stronger now that he realizes what they are.
“Me too, I.. care about you—too.” He’s struggling, jolting when you rub his back.
“We care about each other then, and thanks for the drink.” You walk out of the kitchen with a wink. Once you’re gone Sanji slowly sinks to his knees, sighing. His hand goes to his chest, feeling his beating heart.
“This…feels so weird..!” He rests his back on a shelf door, pupils into hearts as he gets dizzy. “Love love love..” That repeats in his head. He loves you, adores you, filled with nice feelings the moment you look his way. “I love him."
There’s a lot to think about now that he’s realized this but if this light, pleasant feeling he’s getting is because he loves you.. maybe a crush on a guy isn’t so bad.
_____________________
Bonus past memory from Kamabakka:
“GAHH GET AWAY FROM ME! I’M NOT GAY!!” Sanji screams while running from the Okamas. He’d been running the whole day now and eventually manages to lose them, that's what he thinks anyway. They’re actually just hiding to let him rest.
“He keeps calling us gay, we’re Okamas.” One of them says, an idea popping up. “You… don’t think he thinks all queer people are like us, right?”
“No way~” They all brush it off as another speaks up. “I mean it’s pretty obvious what the difference is, he’s gone traveling he’s must’ve met another queer person.”
“Right right.”
“I’m never going to be like them, I like women. I’m not an Okama.” They hear him say as he catches his breath, making them pause.
“Ah…” They nervously look at eachother
“Well.. he’s going to be here for two years. He should figure it out eventually, right?”
“Yeah, we’ll try and help him too! He’s precious after all.”
Unknown to them, he hadn’t figured it out. In fact, he was so terrified of them that even when they did try giving him pointers he kept blocking it out. But it’s alright, there’s no way he’d do something like think it’s mandatory for gay people to crossdress… probably.
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bakugoushotwife · 1 year ago
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kinktober day fifteen: brat-taming kink
>>> god bless i love him so bad...brain rot for this plot...y'all should i make this one like a series fdskjkjgjkgj i swear to god i'm feeling this way about all my fics as of late!! this one has a lot of japanese symbolism and traditions included. i am not japanese and all my research came from different sources across google, but if anything is incorrect or insensitive pls reach out and let me know <3
>>> starring: suguru geto x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: brat-taming, history/pining between reader and geto, face-fucking (m!receiving) edging (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), breeding, degradation/praise, pet names, creampie >>> wc: 4.6k >>> event masterlist:
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he didn’t love the idea, to say the least. he understands why a marriage is necessary. it humanizes him, makes him relatable, opens the door to more preaching topics. he didn’t understand why he had to marry his fellow sorcerer and old classmate—especially one as mouthy as you. you didn’t either, forced into it by the higher ups with hopes you could bring suguru back to the right side of history, not taking your feelings into the matter at all, not that you expected them to. but you’re sure they already knew you wouldn’t be able to complete this mission—perhaps they hoped for your death at his hand.
at one point, you were friends. now, you were about to become the unwilling misses geto, though even that was more complicated than it seems. you were the third musketeer back in the day. even shoko preferred to stay out of the boys’ shenanigans, sticking to herself or utahime, not bothered in the slightest to let you chase after satoru and suguru. you were closer to the latter, finding it easy to gang up on the former together. he entertained your  wit and you let him try out new moves on you. you loved each other. that’s why it hurt so bad—still hurts to this day—that he left and turned into this. and now you’re stuck in the thick of it. 
you make him beyond angry. putting aside your utter disrespect and disobedience, you remind him of nothing but conflicting times, things he’d rather not think about now that those days were supposed to be far behind him. you hadn’t changed a bit from the day he left, and he hates that even more. you’re lively and talented, your powers long abused by the very higher ups that contributed to his madness and the ones that leveraged you into this ceremony. when he was told of your engagement, he could have refused and had them find him a new wife. he could have killed them all and refused this altogether—he’s not quite sure why he said yes. he pulls on his hakama trousers, smoothing at the pleats as he racks his brain. he slings his haori around his shoulders, and he realizes a small part of him may have always wanted to marry you; he remembers fantasies of you in high school, recalling how badly he yearned for your affection. and he hates that more than anything. 
he knows you feel similarly about him, hence all your acting up. you had been short and cold and almost satoru level snotty with him through the engagement parties and wedding planning and obligatory dinners. you have the nerve to sneer as you speak and look at him with nothing but disgust. he’s the one who should be disgusted with you. you chose to stay with gojo over him, chose that world of lies and injustice when you could have been enlightened like him from the beginning. it’s only fitting you’re his bride, really. it’s what he deserves, as retribution for your betrayal. and he would make sure to claim what was his on his wedding night. the servants come to get him as he shrugs into his montsuki with a new smug smile replacing what was a dreading frown.
you wore a red iro-uchikake. and you look like a dream he had when he was a teenager. it’s ironic really. he knows not wearing the more traditional and all white shiromuku was another one of your jabs, but the color red was more significant to him than white. it means life, it wards off all evils. perhaps you knew that too, and that’s why you chose the color, though geto remembers you wearing the deep blood color often enough through adolescence that seeing you in it again makes some of the tightness in his chest let off just a little bit, even as you avoid his eyes. 
he looked magnificent. his hair had grown longer, and you had always liked to play with it before, but now it cascades over his shoulder in waves despite the top-bun halving the thickness. you could hear your heart pound. if you were to tell the second year version of yourself that you would be sharing a wedding temple with suguru geto, you may have cried from relief and happiness. but as you get closer to him with no guests to witness this other than the priest and a handful of temple ladies, you feel the coursing energy of excitement and nerves. you aren’t sure what to expect from him now that no one will be watching. you don’t even truly know how he feels for you. he has been making attempts to earn your favor, but that was because he had a crowd. 
he takes your hand and smiles down at you like he did when you were much younger and much less conflicted over your feelings. it makes your heart flutter like it used to, and your eyes widen a bit at his gentility. the priest offers his blessings to the gods as you two stand before him, hand-in-hand. your mind races. how much of this is real? and even if he’s being genuine, does it really matter? after everything he put you through, all the things he had done, the things he wants to do, can you look past it all just to love him anyway? 
the temple servants set up the sakazuiki. they space the three ceremonial cups evenly apart, and fill them with the richest sake. san-san-kudo. you bite your lip, hating yourself for your doubt. suguru gently pulls you out of your head and towards the table, to the binding ceremony of old tradition. he picks up the first cup, holding it to his face. 
“you look beautiful, okusan.” he smirks over the cup, looking oddly satisfied with himself, like he knows something you don’t. he then sips the first cup three times, holding your eyes. you feel your body burn, looking down at the kimono you chose and back to him. his fingers lightly brush against yours as you take the cup. you feel butterflies. 
“thank you, geto-san.” you tilt your head down to indicate your grace, thoughts fuzzied by his intense stare and old feelings bubbling up your gut. you sip three times, and he picks up the next sakazuiki. he chuckles, and you swear you see a little bit of light in his deep eyes. 
“are you waiting for titles until the conclusion of the ceremony, anata?” he piles on the mulit-meaning endearment, passing you the second cup. you nearly choke on your sake. 
“no. you look very nice, uchi no hito.” you take your final sip, and it’s geto’s turn to stammer. he expected a tsureai or muko, but the one you chose had so much meaning. your home, your person. that’s what you called him. he knew the shock and wonder had to show on his face based off of your smug grin whenever you set the cup down. you think you can toy with him, pull stunts with him. you’re much too bold—and he wants to hate it, he wants to smother that personality right out of you, but for now–he’ll let himself love it. 
“this binds us through our love, wisdom, and happiness.” he says the words to bring you together officially, tying your souls together for better or worse. he sips from the final cup three times, the symbolism not lost on you, and passes it to you to do the same. 
“this binds us through our hatred, passion, and ignorance.” you look him in the eyes as you take your drinks, and his dark pink lips stretch into a wide smile. 
“and now you are mine. how lucky we are to be brought back to each other in this way.” he chums, taking the wedding rings from his pocket as the priest continues offering his prayers to the skies. you hold out your hand expectantly, and he arches a brow. 
“nine is not a lucky number, perhaps we’re cursed instead.” you shrug, that same smugness tugging at your lips. oh, you’re going to drive him crazy. you give him hope and you pull it away, you jab at him and you’re so gorgeous that he can’t even be upset with you for it. he slides the diamond encrusted with black gems down your third finger, giving you a smug smile of his own. he can play dirty too. he extends the box to you and you pluck his gold band from it, sliding it slowly down his finger. the excitement builds in your gut as you become more and more okay with whatever this is. you always thought he had a point. the jujutsu society was so horribly fucked up–maybe he was right all along and you were the coward after all. i mean, where did all your loyalty get you? sold off to a dangerous man with hopes to shut you up for good? passed around mission to mission until your body barely functioned anymore? maybe you could turn a blind eye to all his indiscretions, especially when he’s looking at you with such affection in once cold eyes. you still hold his hand in both of yours, and he enjoys the warmth, but you’ve pushed and poked him just enough, these teasing touches part of them. 
instead of a kiss to seal this union once more, he leans down to your ear. “go get changed. i like simple lingerie.” he all but purrs in your ear, sending shivers down your spine at the order. you were losing sight of yourself at a rapid pace. you had hoped to hold out longer than this. his lips tickle the shell of your ear and a soft gasp leaves you. you tell yourself to be strong.
“and if i don’t? you’d be lucky to sleep with me at all, husband.” you sneer, and again he doesn’t know what to make of you, but he’s dedicated to figuring it out. he leans up and tilts his head, analyzing the lust in your eyes and the shakiness in your hands. he laughs at you when he realizes. 
“go get changed, little pet. we’ll discuss your guilt and attitude later.” he shakes his head at you, his gaze making you feel as if you were already undressed before him. he turns, tossing that confident smirk over his shoulder again for good measure. “red is your color.” 
and then the temple girls are at your side, ready to escort their new geto-sama to her new room in the geto estate.. you allow them, trailing silently as you wonder just what he was able to figure out by looking at you, and what lingerie you would put on for him. 
you choose a red babydoll dress. the sheer plunging neckline leaves little to the imagination and the tight fit of the lace leaves even less. it fans out from your body from there, the fluffy hem stopping just below your ass. seeing yourself in the mirror, perched perfectly at the end of the bed, you smile. you imagine that qualifies as simple, though you’re sure it will still make him crazy for you. you’re embarrassed to want that, to dress yourself up and present yourself to him just as he asked. your friends would be ashamed, namely one. but as the door creaks open and you feel an icy stare raking over your body, you can’t quell your excitement. 
he hums approvingly as the door clicks shut behind him. he’s so grateful he didn’t deny this union out of his own narrow minded rage. he never thought he would see you again after you denied him the first time, but here you are, on the bed you two would soon share in his home, now branded with his last name— all wrapped up like a christmas present. 
“sugurin–” the old nickname flies off your tongue in your haste, and a fondness glosses over the devious intent in his eyes. you clear your throat and tug the sides of your dress down pathetically. “i... actually don’t know what to say.” you blink in realization, painfully aware of how alone you two are. was he still the same man you knew? 
“don’t worry, kibōchi.” he returns his own nickname, the way you squirm in your place at the sound of it wasn’t lost on him, though the name puts you at was in the same way it stirs you up. his desire returns at your doe-eyed stare, you trust him to some extent, even through your wariness. “i’ll start. you were assigned to marry me, no?” 
you nod your head, now knowing he wouldn’t hurt you, not with the fondness in which he says your name. your core tingles as he approaches you, a scarily sweet smile on his face.
“good. thank you for your honesty, anata girl.” he nods, sliding his crested black kimono off, the only proper covering of your wedding remaining on his body, for your convenience if anything. “and you’ve been such a brat because…? which is it: you’re mad at them, mad at me, or mad at yourself?” 
you furrow your brows at his words. it seemed he learned everything in just an extended look at you. “am not a brat.” you fold your arms in indignation, incidentally proving him right. he just shakes his head, chuckling again. 
“look at you. you didn’t answer my question and you’re pouting like a toddler.” he lets his gaze drift down to your body just begging for his touch. he can’t help but wonder what you’ll like and what your favorite position will be and how fertile you are and what kind of drive you’ll have, all things he never learned about you when you were just friends. you feel his scrutiny and fight through your mixed feelings to respond. 
“can’t it be a mixture of all three?” you sigh out shakily, deciding to stick to your guns even if you want him, too. 
he clicks his tongue in consideration. “i suppose. but the sorcerers of your past no longer have any influence over your life. and you should be more forgiving to yourself, even if you are being a snot.” 
you scrunch your nose up in distaste, hating how his words soothe your heart. “you conveniently left yourself out of that equation.” you fold your arms and it only pushes your chest out more. you’re impossible, and it’s hard for him not to smirk at you. you’re powerless, he knows and you know it—yet you fight anyway. it’s precious. 
“i don’t regret leaving. i did the right thing.” he says, head held high. his devotion is moving, even when he looks at you with such a mixed bag of emotions. “i missed you however. i accepted this union to see you again.” 
you can tell from his eyes that his emotion is genuine, but it still shoots pangs through your heart as you recall days spent in bed crying over his absence. you turn your head away so the influence of his obsidian stare couldn’t cut so deep. “you left me.” 
“you didn’t join me when i asked you to.” he retorts, clenching his jaw at your argumentative nature. “i came back, just for you.”
“you came back to use me.” you spit, echoing the words of your other classmates. the look in your eyes is angry, this was something you genuinely believed. that infuriates him. “you were going to leverage me, until you provoked him.” 
his jaw ticks again. “and who told you this, satoru? i would have thought you knew me best.” he sighs his disappointment, grabbing your hands. he pulls you off the bed, your knees buckling you into a stand—then he roughly grabs your cheeks to make you look at him. “or did you forget just how close we were? how deeply i loved you then, all the time we spent together? you’re the one who betrayed me. you were mine! mine, you were supposed to be mine and you stayed with him!” his voice rises just a bit with his frustration, but he drops his grip on you and steps back, “i would have done anything to take you with me. and everything…could have been the same, i would have kept you safe and away from this life. We could have had so much more time together—and you’re being so goddamn bratty now that i have you back…what am i to do with you?” 
you blink rapidly at his speech washes over you. did he really mean it, that he just wanted you to have you? you were never intended to be used as a bargaining chip, and you let everyone else warp the vision of the man you once held so dear? you shake your head violently, rejecting the idea. he rakes his hands over his face, fed up with the back and forth. “i’ve compartmentalized you out over the years. but i have you back, and i refuse to waste any more time.” 
“i’m sorry sugurin—i thought you hated me!” you defend, reaching for him. he grabs your wrists again and plants your hands on his chest, moving his touch to your face. 
“then make it up to me.” he orders with a fervent nod, his hold on your face firm but comforting. you surprise him by leaning up and closing the remaining distance to kiss him, balling up his shirt in your fists. you were absolutely insufferable, annoying, bratty, and irritating—but he could do this forever. feeling you move with such passion, vigorously pulling at him and finally giving in to all those pent up feelings was enough to prompt him to do the same.  he memorizes your taste for a while before he pulls away and directs you to your knees with his signature rough handling, though he’s still careful not to hurt you. “i want you to really make it up to me.” 
you nod eagerly and shove your hair over your shoulders while he frees his waiting ache. he can hardly stand the sight of you on your knees under him, massive cock creating a shadow over your obedient and eager face. as gorgeous as you are like this, it was too late to make up for your transgressions. you salivate at the sight of his impressive length standing proud over you, curved and so long he leans to one side with a thickness you know will make even your throat burn. your mouth parts for him immediately, slick sliding down the insides of your thighs at the idea of relieving his drooling slit. “you’re gonna have to open wider than that, okusan.” 
and he helps you do so, planting his broad callused hands firmly on each side of your face, bumping his cockhead against your puffy bottom lip and shoving himself into your silky walls. you moan out in surprise and relax your throat, making your new husband grin at the performance. He’s perhaps unintentionally violent as he sheaths to the hilt, your nose bumping against black coarse hair above his shaft. “there, there.” 
he pats your cheek patronizingly, flicking away a tear that formed. “don’t cry, kibōchi. you were made for this.” he coos affectionately, body growing hot to the touch at his vision. he knew this was a great start to teaching you your place in life, and that being a brat was not one of them. running away was not one of them, you were permanently his and he would never let you go again. he pulls your head back off with that grip to use you, plunging your throat back down on him and biting down on his lip to keep his own sounds from interrupting your gorgeous gags.
“don’t you like this so much better than acting snotty, sweet wife?” he teases only slightly, taking your teary eyes flicking up to look at him as a yes. you can feel him deep, that burning sensation that you knew would come starting to sting your vocal cords. “you take me so well, i’ve always told you sorcery wasn’t for you. this is all you need to do forever.” 
you moan at the idea, him keeping you home to take after the estate and maybe even caring for the kids you may have in the future. he chortles, pleasantly surprised by you yet again. “you think you’re clever, darling. acting all sweet now so i’ll forget all about your behavior, hm?” 
he pulls you off with a lewd pop, pushing at the wimpy straps of your dress with a satisfied hum as the fabric falls away from your chest. “too bad. get on the bed.” 
your heart raced, but you nod. your throat was too hoarse to speak anyway. you weren’t planning anything, you felt like liquid, you had given into your vows and let suguru take you mind, body, and spirit—and he hadn’t even touched you yet. you wobble up to your feet and he slaps your ass when you turn it to him, which makes you gasp and stumble forward. he hums, predatory narrow eyes watching you climb up and lay in the center of the large mattress. he wastes no time in positioning over you. he spits, thumbing his lube over your sensitivity. he pins your fluffy dress up over your stomach, lulling you into sweet moans, your high building in your stomach rapidly. he doesn’t know where to look, you’re all too perfect. the faces you make, your beautiful, slobber-soaked mouth pouting out all your pleasures, your gorgeous tits sitting so prettily in wait for him. then there was your weeping cunt, so pathetically soaked just from sucking him off. 
“su–gu-rin~” you whimper out a little, your legs trying to close around his large body mass as the feeling becomes more intense. he hums, smacking your cunt. 
“brats don’t get to cum.” he shrugs, licking and biting at the insides of your thighs to tease you further. your plush skin is so sensitive, and he loves watching the way you squirm to get away from his canines scraping your flesh. you gasp in anger, orgasm ruined the longer he refuses to touch where you need him most. 
“brat?—you’re really gonna be mean to me, uchi no hito?” you pout, and he can feel his heart pang at the insistence and the sweet way you call him yours. you’re softening his heart already. he still had the want to punish you, but the need to claim you was surely fighting back.
“then apologize for your behavior or you won’t cum at all.” he sits up a bit, tossing some hair over his shoulder. you bat your lashes at him, knowing he was hurt by your choice, just like you were hurt by his. but now there was a chance to make it right, to be together forever like you were meant to–and if you had to apologize for your doubts in him, you would sing them loudly. 
“oh—sugurin, i’m sorry! i really am,” his fingers squeeze and toy with your clit, making your body jump as you try to stutter through your words. “just mi-missed you, that’s all, was mean because i missed y-you!” you writhe and wiggle closer and away from his touch simultaneously, and he hums happily at your speech. 
“that’s better.” he hums approvingly, pushing your legs up to your chest. he wants you to feel this as much and as deeply as possible. “such a good girl, did i tell you how beautiful you look okusan?” 
you nod, feeling the well of nerves heating up in your core, his hands resting on your knees as he looks over the disheveled lingerie. “told me at the wedding…” you sniffle, wiggling your hips for his attention again. 
“i see.” he frowns, as if disappointed by your answer. his hands feel your thighs and trail back to your knees, getting his hands closer and closer to where you needed him most with each pass. you whine desperately, and he hums out in fake curiosity, “what is it, darling?” 
“need you to touch me—please.” you squirm, giving him those irresistible doe-eyes. he planned to make you beg much harder than that, but you had him worked all the way up, your body, behavior, and the history between you was setting him on fire. 
“oh i’ll make you cum, kibōchi.” he moves his grip to the backs of your thighs as he moves his hips forward. you try to prepare yourself but it’s no use, he plunges in without any hesitation or resistance on your part. it aches, you clench down at the spread and his thumb comes back to your clit to rub the pain away. “but you can only do it on my dick. got it?” 
you nod slowly and his hips set a pace. he’s so deep you can barely believe he’s allowed to fuck you like this, the pain melting away to a dull pleasure, different from earlier. his gaze is still white hot and searing, devouring every inch of your body. “you really are so beautiful, sweet okusan. my kibōchi turned perfect cocksleeve, yeah?” he growls into the space between you, his fingers digging into the fat of your skin so hard you know he’ll leave his mark.
that draws a moan out of you, loving the idea of being nothing more than a wife, his partner, something you never thought you’d be once you parted ways. the feeling of him rocking into your body is addicting, and now you know you are capable of looking past anything he’s done or will do just to love him anyway. you would throw all your morals away just for this, and he knows that too. “my pretty little okusan, trying so hard to pretend she didn’t want me. now look, the prettiest you’ve ever been bouncing on me.” 
he leans over your body, deepening his angle and allowing him to pick up his speed. he watches the way your tits bounce at this pace, your eyes rolling back a little as you’re rendered unable to speak again, only lewd smacks of his balls against your ass and his feral grunts to be heard. his hand finds your throat, and his mouth drops open in response to your sweet moans and impossible beauty. you are perfect. he knew you would be, but your pussy was his personal kryptonite. “you feel so good, anata girl. you look even better, stuffed to the brim.” 
he smiles at the double meaning. you are his darling girl, but you are also his exasperating brat. god, he always knew what to say. your jaw falls, gripping his forearms to warn him that you were close. “please—need to cum!”
 he hums, nodding his approval, “then cum, okusan.” he commands, deep voice booming. his spine tingles at the idea of you taking your first round of his seed. his hair falls so angelically around his angular features when you open your eyes, it’s the final push over the edge. you choke out a moan, and then your nails are scraping at his biceps, his shoulders and chest, whatever you can get your hands on, and your release is rushing over his dick seconds later. 
“are you on birth control?” he groans, feeling his cock twitch in between your wet walls. you shake your head, chest heaving deliciously. “good, let’s see how fertile you are.” 
your eyes cross at his statement and his balls feel so heavy, squeezing tight and spurting out their contents against your womb. your head digs into the pillow and his falls back at the feeling of being so full and warm. he keeps his hips rocking, making you gasp with every stroke as he shoves his deposit deeper. You’re both panting when you look at each other, years of unspoken yearning and love being communicated between you. there’s a lot to catch up on, and a lot to relearn about one another, but one thing is certain: this marriage was fated, and not arranged. 
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rita-repulsa-ke · 8 days ago
Text
Bad Dream 2
"Mama, no!"
"Agathawhatisitwhat'swrong?"
"Nothing that needs a knife, calm down. It was just a bad dream."
"You're crying."
"No."
"Ags, I can clearly see—"
"I said no, so I'm not."
"…All right. If you say so."
"I do. Now shush. Go back to sleep."
"Tell me what it was about?"
"Nope."
"…Aaaagatha."
"I was being chased by a giant turnip."
"…You were not. But you are very funny. Tell me the truth."
"Rio, how do I convey this is not a 'Agatha wants to talk about her feelings' moment?"
"Beloved, that's not a moment that has ever existed. You never want to talk about feelings, yours or anyone else's."
"Then stop asking!"
"But I want to know."
"Why??"
"…I don't like that it made you cry."
"First, it didn't, and second, if it had, me telling you is not going to make that any better. You can't stab a nightmare with a knife."
"I could try."
"…heh…you could try. You might try. It is so very you, somehow. I like that you want to stab my nightmares, genuinely. I still don't want to talk about them, though."
"Was it about the time you killed your coven?"
"…eerily accurate guess."
"You, um. Yelled. Before you woke up."
"...Then, Rio, my heart, my soul, love of my life, why did you ask?"
"…I thought you might just tell me?"
"Sometimes it would be nice if I could stab you."
"You could, if it would make you feel better?"
"…Kind of ruins it if you don't mind, honestly."
"Heh. I guess it would. …Did you know I was there?"
"What? ..Oh. I guess you would have been, huh. All those bodies."
"Mmm. You didn't cry then."
"No, of course not. Why would I have?"
"People get sad when they kill their families."
"They tied to me to a stake and tried to murder me. Mostly I felt smug at not being dead."
"Then why are you sad now?"
"…Rio."
"…I just...I like when you talk about it. What you're feeling."
"What I'm feeling right now is the urge to tell Death to go find somewhere else to sleep. Anyway, how do you know I was sad and not scared or angry?"
"Well, were you?"
"…Of course I was! Of course I was scared and angry. They tied me to a stake and tried to burn the life out of me. Women who had known me since birth. My own mother! They wanted to contain me, to control me and when they couldn't, they—"
"…am I not supposed to point out that you're crying again?"
"…shut up and hold me."
"Yes, beloved."
"……….we are never talking about this again."
"It was nice, though. I'm not an expert, but I think couples do this. Tell each other their feelings."
"…could have been worse. But don't make a thing out of it."
"No, of course not."
"And go back to sleep."
"Mmkay."
"…"
"…You know, Ags, that giant turnip does sound really scary."
"...Rio. Sleep. Now."
"Mmkay. Love you."
"...Love you."
Masterpost or click this link to go to a random post on this blog, which will probably be a fic of some kind
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goldfades · 8 months ago
Note
Paige 100% sends those pictures of two inanimate object and goes “us if we were___”
Like two soap bottles touching tips “us if we were soap”
Paige def just scrolls through your phone gallery, looking at your pictures. Staring fondly and going “my wife’s so pretty.” and “Why didn’t you send me this????” (I just thought of a whole fic on this idea oml i’m getting Hot)
Anytime you send a photo to Paige honestly, she’s going off on Imessage just hyping you up.
OMG THEY HAVE A SHARED PHOTO ALBUM. BUT BUT BUT it’s not just photos of themselves, it’s also like “I saw this and was thought of you.” Photos like OSXBUDHANA
Loves listening to you talk so she brings up things she knows you love talking about.
——-
Also that motherfucker definitely makes the manager mad on purpose cuz she thinks it’s cute when the managers angry. (The manager being furious is a whole different situation.) And it doesn’t help that Paige is taller.
Manager will just be ranting at paige whilst paige is just smiling the whole time.
The manager notices and goes “and you’re just smiling like shits funny, ain’t nothin funny-“ “you’re just so cute princess”
oop
that shut her up real quick
“Paige’s get the fuck outta my office.” but like she’s all flustered and Paige can tell
——
I think you touched on this, but when they get together and yk, have to keep it on the low for a multitude of reasons.
One one hand it sucks cuz yk, Paige can’t brag like she wants to yet. But on the other hand Paige is a cocky little shit and will take the opportunity to be handsy and flirty (to a certain degree) knowing that the girls aren’t gonna think too much of it cuz paige has always been like that, But Paige and the manager both know there’s more reason to it now.
BUT NEVER FRETE our manager can play the same game Paige, don’t start stuff you can’t finish. Then it lowkey become just a personal game for them of who could fluster the other more without the team getting suspicious.
Contrary to popular belief I think the Manager and Paige made a bet on how long with would take the team to figure out they were together. So they didn’t tell them outright, but just went along letting them figure it out themselves.
——
I also feel like people started noticing the dynamic change. Like don’t get me wrong the managers job comes first so Paige isn’t getting any extreme special treatment, but the girls and fans start noticing the managers tone switch when she’s talking to Paige.
Her tone just gets a bit softer and more gentle.
Like there’s this clip of manager talking to Caroline normally, then Paige calls her and manager turns and goes “yes baby?” so softly AND LIKE the “baby” isn’t what gets people cuz again, manager calls everyone by pet names. It’s HOW quickly her tone changes as soon as she started talking to Paige.
And we already know Paige’s eye contact game goes crazy and she has a STARRING PROBLEM, if I had a nickel for how many times Paige was caught staring at the manager I would be buying everyone on this blog canes oml.
Manager doesn’t really strike me as a person who shies away from eye contact most of the time, which is evident cuz there’s clips of them just starting at each other and you can FEEL THE TENSION.
But when manager does shy away from it, Paige either grabs her chin and turns her face back to her, or if she can’t Paige moves her head to try and stay in the managers eye sight.
Or let’s say Paige is talking and manager gets distracted by something. Paige is grabbing her cheeks gently with both hands, saying “Hey, I’m right here pretty girl.” while gently rubbing her cheeks with her thumbs, then drops her hands from her face and just goes back to talking.
-🐹
(girl request that fic idea i wanna hear it now) THIS ENTIRE ASK IS GOLD I AM PUTTING IT IN THE MASTERLIST ASAPPPPP!!!!!
the shared photo album is soooo real!!!!! and paige is the one who puts the most pictures cus baby girl is a sentimental person she wants to take pics of EVERYTHING!
i feel like paige wants to think she's the winner every time yall play that "who can make the other flustered without the team noticing" game but honestly, why is the manager lowkey a rizzler????? likeeeeeee paige would pretend not to blush but its super obvious
AND THE TONE CHANGE IS SOOOO SO REAL, ur so right!!!!!! and its kinda obvious but the girls don't wanna say anything yet but they'll def tease them.
the whole eye contact thing made me melttttt goodnight!!!!
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