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theetherealbloom · 2 days ago
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Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever
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Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.
Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”
I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon
Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader
Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T
Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler
gif by @a7estrellas
→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY
The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  
You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  
“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  
“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  
He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  
“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  
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The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  
Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  
Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  
Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  
“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  
You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  
Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  
“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  
Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  
“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  
“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET
The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.
Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.
“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.
Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.
You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.
“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.
Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”
Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”
Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”
“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  
Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  
“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  
“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  
“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”
Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  
“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  
Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  
You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  
Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  
“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”
“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  
“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.
You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  
As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.
“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”
“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”
Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”
“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  
Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  
Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”
Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  
“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  
“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  
“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”
Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  
The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.
You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.
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THE NEXT DAY
OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  
The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  
Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  
His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  
“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  
“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  
It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  
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The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  
“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  
Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  
Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  
Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  
Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  
You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  
Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  
“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  
Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  
Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  
“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  
“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  
He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  
The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  
Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  
You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  
“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  
Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  
“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  
Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  
Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  
Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  
Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  
You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  
The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  
Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  
“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  
Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  
You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  
“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  
Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  
He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  
“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  
“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  
Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  
“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  
Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  
You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  
“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  
Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  
“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  
The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  
“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  
“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  
“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  
“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  
As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  
“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  
“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  
“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  
“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  
Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  
“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  
Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  
“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  
The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  
As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  
When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  
You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  
Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 
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L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING
The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 
“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”
You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”
“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”
And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 
“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.
“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 
“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”
Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.
“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”
“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”
Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.
“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 
Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”
You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”
He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”
There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 
This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 
“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”
You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”
“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”
His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”
Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”
You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.
Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 
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Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  
“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  
“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  
You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  
“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  
Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  
You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  
He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  
“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  
His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  
“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  
When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  
“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  
“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  
The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  
The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.
A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  
“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  
Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  
You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  
“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  
“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  
Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  
Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  
Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  
“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  
Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  
“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  
He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  
You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  
Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  
You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  
Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  
You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  
“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  
You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  
“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  
Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  
Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  
The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  
Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  
Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  
You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  
The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  
Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  
In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.
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no-144444 · 1 day ago
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wingman paul- c.leclerc
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summary: charles leclerc takes a liking to you at your brothers movie premiere... paul makes it happen!
pairing: charles leclerc x fem! mescal! reader
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Did you want to go to the Gladiator 2 premiere? No, not really. Was Paul forcing you to anyways? Yes, very much so. 
Being his sister (and emotional support person), he always brought you on set, to premieres, and anywhere else. That was usually fine. The rest of his projects' premieres had either been in the Lighthouse (your favourite cinema in Dublin), or small enough that you wouldn’t get too overwhelmed. You were famous in your own right, following after your sister and writing music. You didn’t go on stage, but you’d garnered over 10 million listeners, and your album had just been nominated for a grammy, though you had no intention of going. It’s not that you were scared or shy, you were just entirely uninterested in going out in public as a ‘public figure’. It stressed you out, having people know who you are in such detail, so you just kept to yourself. You had no public social media accounts, you didn’t allow your label to post about you unless it was about the music, and you only let Paul or Nell drag you out in public for one of their events. You liked it that way, it was comfortable. 
“I’m going to go say hi to some people, you just wait here, yeah?” Paul explained as you two entered the theatre. It was huge, and every celebrity or influencer in the world must’ve been there. You nodded as he walked off and allowed yourself to fade into the background, people-watching as time passed. You noticed the beautiful architecture of the building, the way the celebrities around you mingled, the way-
“Hello.”
You whipped your head around, startled, only to be met with a face you knew quite well. “Jesus, Charles, you scared me,” you chuckled. He blushed slightly as you turned around properly to greet him. “Hi.”
“How are you?” he asked, joining you in your secluded corner. 
“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?” 
“I am very good,” he smiled, showing off his dimples. “I thought you didn’t like events.”
“I don’t, Paul just asked me to come,” you explained. “My mam would’ve killed me if I didn’t go, so here I am.” 
He nodded, understanding. “I tried to find you online, but… you are not a fan of that either?”
You chuckled. “No, not really. Sorry.” 
He shook his head. “No, it is ok. I just… wanted to talk more. You are very interesting to me,” he smiled. 
“Well, thank you for the glowing review,” you chuckled. “Are you enjoying the evening so far?”
“I am enjoying it a lot more with you here,” he smiled. “But yes, I only watched the first one a few days ago and I thought it was very good, so I am excited to see how this one compares.”
“You’re sure a charmer,” you chuckled. “I hope you enjoy the film. Where are you sitting?”
“Beside Carlos?” he shrugged, an awkward smile on his face. “Carlos knows, but I don’t know where Carlos is.”
You laughed. “Are you always this disorganised?”
“Only when I’m nervous,” he winked at you and the lights started going down, you just offered him to sit next to you, hoping that Nell wouldn’t mind. 
You two sat together, enjoying the movie as the night went on, and after you found yourselves at the bar, still chatting. He walked off to find Carlos at one point, looking back with a smile as he waved, promising to come back soon. 
“When are you going to realise he’s trying to flirt with you?” Paul laughed. Your face was bright red and your jaw dropped. 
You gently (roughly) hit his chest and scoffed. “Shut the fuck up. He is not.” 
Paul laughed. “He’s totally into you! Come on, go out with him, please! I want free tickets to Grand Prixs!” 
You rolled your eyes as he giggled, and then startled when you bumped straight back into Charles. “Fuck, sorry-” you started apologising but he just shook his head. 
“All good,” he smiled. 
Paul silently slipped away with a wink, and you were faced with Charles, once again. 
“Hi,” you breathed out. 
“Hi,” he chuckled, his dimples on full show. “He was right, you know.” 
“About what?” you questioned. 
“I am flirting with you-or, at least trying to,” he blushed slightly. 
“Oh,” you nodded, unsure what to do in a situation where someone was as brazen and blunt. “Right.”
He laughed. “Can I take you out sometime?”
You stared at him, total deer in headlights, then nodded. “Yeah, yeah, sounds grand. Thank you.”
You internally smacked yourself in the face for that. But he just laughed, unfazed by your awkward demeanour. 
“Great!” he smiled bashfully. “When are you free?”
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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radical-community-care · 3 days ago
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tbh when I first saw the sentence "Activism is not cold-calling" I thought it was gonna go in a different direction. I fully agree with the post! and it reminds me of the advice on how to build community that is about *listening* to people first and actually engaging them in what they care about instead of rattling off some points YOU care about.
so for example, instead of going to Moderate Jason saying "Hello comrade do you have a minute to talk about socialism and how billionaires' taxes should pay for bike lanes!?" just have a normal conversation and ask them what kind of problems bother them or what difficulties they have to deal with in their day to day lives. and you actually listen and ask questions and care about what they think and see if you can find any common ground. maybe the two of you (or them and someone else you know) face a similar problem or one with the same root cause or with the same solution.
and this is not about getting them to parrot talking points or use the same kind of political language you do or join your group - this is about getting them to consider that maybe there are approaches to their problems that are community focused rather than individualistic, that are about shared humanity rather than pointing fingers at scapegoats, that are pushing towards flatter hierarchies rather than more authoritarianism.
again, they might not use or like all those particular words. maybe they'll say "back in my day, I would bike to school, it's a shame that's not safe anymore for my kids to do now." and then you two together can brainstorm ideas of what might be done about that in your specific circumstances. and you do what you can to help with it! whether you teach them about citizens initiatives or organise a "kiddical mass" (bike demo with kids) or whatever else fits.
but of course bike lanes might not be important to Moderate Jason at all. it's just one example. maybe they're a car nut and care about right to repair. or maybe they like sitting at home watching tv and care about avoiding ads and trackers, or about media depiction and representation of characters with a marginalised trait they or someone they care about has.
chances are, you will find *something* they want to talk about that is influenced by "politics" in a wider sense. and you can just mention how you see these issues or what you can think of that might help.
it helps to practice this approach in your head or with like-minded friends: go through all kinds of different things people care about and think how those could be done better in your utopia. and what might be small steps from here to there.
I do that with fiction constantly. from sitcoms to epic sff, I often go "how would I propose this group or society handle things/ what would I do to make their world a better, more just place?" Or just revelling in how cool the heroes are that they actually do good things (and remembering those tactics and figuring out how to apply them to the real world)
Activism is not cold-calling.
Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.
I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.
As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.
Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.
IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.
Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.
This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.
Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.
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kens-ramblings · 1 day ago
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so ik it’s not cannon accurate but,,,
i need a fic of tim just crashing out.
like he gets so sick of like damian and jason talking about how weak he is and shit like that that he’s like “yall realize lady shiva was my one of my FIRST teachers, and i was the first robin she trained. i had to train under b AFTER he already lost a robin. you DONT think he was 10x harder on me than any of you guys???? there’s a reason my training videos are mainly redacted without bruce’s or my permission. i got ra’s al ghul BEGGING ME to join his league or have my children. i get gifts from him WEEKLY. do you KNOW how many of his little ninja i fight per DAY??? nahh im sick of this shit let’s take it to the mats” and just demolishing both of them at the same time.
i just think it’d be very funny. i just like fics of people who pretend to be weaker than they are(or they just never really have a reason to go full tilt so they just don’t) get sick of holding back and just losing it :D
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hadersversion · 1 day ago
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‘tis the damn season.
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“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue! reader
warnings: 18+, SMUT, p in v, fingering, begging, overstimulation, use of babe....let me know if i forget anything lol. ALSO in some places in america, thansgiving eve is literally just a holiday to get drunk in your hometown
your home for the holidays for the first time in years. you've been avoiding rafe, the reason you've been away for so long, but after seeing him again all the old feelings come back. when rafe sends a text one night, you end up in the back of his truck like old times.
i parked my car out front of my childhood home, staring at the old exterior.
somethings never change.
being back in the outer banks felt strange. it has been a while since i have been back, avoiding come home for as long as i can. but with a few begging phone calls from my mom and kiara, here i am.
i knock on my front door and am greeted with a bright smile.
"jj?" i ask, confused.
"welcome home, stranger." he says, with a hug and grabbing my bag.
i walk into my living room and see the pogues, sitting with my mom. a homemade 'welcome home' banner hanging above their heads.
my mom comes over and gives me a big hug. "i thought i would never see this face again." she says with a squeeze.
"boston isn't that far, mom." i tell her but i know she would never leave the outer banks. never in a million years. i turn towards the others and smile. "i wonder who could've put this together?" i say, looking at kiara.
"hey it wasn't all me, pope was the one who brought it up." she says, engulfing me in her arms.
"guilty." pope chimes in, joining the hug. i feel jj and john b join in as well. my family.
we break away and hang out in the living room, catching up.
"don't tell me you went all city on us, y/n." john b pokes fun at me.
"not completely. but it is nice having more things to do than hang on the beach and smoke." i wink.
"who could want more than that?" jj asks, making us all laugh.
"speaking of," kiara starts. "there's a little thanksgiving eve celebration happening at the wreck. just some people from high school. nothing big."
"just a chance to get drunk of our asses and go to dinner the next day hungover." jj says, causing kiara to nudge him.
"what do you say? want to join us?" i look around the room at my friends, all eager waiting for my response. with a sigh, i nod and they all cheer. "thank god, i don't think i could've done that alone."
i smile and nod. it should be fun, it will be. but my brain can't help to wonder if the one person who's kept me away from coming home will be there. no, he wouldn't. not with the pogues. but a part of me can't help but hope to see his face.
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i fix my sweater in the mirror in my room, my body fidgeting from anxiety. it's been a few days and i still can't shake that feeling from my body about being home. sure, i'm happy but this place holds so many memories. memories i wish to bury. i stare at the photo booth picture tucked into my mirror of him and i. i guess i forgot to hide this with the rest of the stuff. i take it off the mirror and sigh, examining it.
almost four years since it was taken. almost four years since we called it quits. and yet, he still haunts my memories. his presence making itself known through cheap beer at the bar, expensive men's cologne at the mall, exhaust that leaves motorbikes as they ride down the street. he's always there, whether i like it or not.
the sound of a horn breaks me free of my thoughts.
"y/n, they're here!" my mom calls from downstairs.
"coming!" i open my dresser drawer and slip the photo in before racing downstairs. i kiss my mom on the cheek and slip out the door, rushing into the van.
"ready to get fucked up?" jj asks with his devilish smirk.
i roll my eyes and laugh. "let's go."
we pull up to the wreck, it's already dark outside and a slight breeze fills the air. we all hurry in, greeted by familiar faces. my name is called from every direction, old friends from high school or the beach. all my fellow pogues who i know and love. when i'm done making my rounds, i head over to our table. everyone has some drink in their hand, beer or cocktail, and they all smile up at me.
"who would've though little y/n y/l/n would be a pogue celebrity?" pope jokes.
i flip him off and slide in next to john b. kiara hands me a beer and i take a sip. "i'm not a celebrity, i'm just one of the only people from this island who actually made it off."
they all make jokes at my despair, teasing me in any way they could when sarah walks up. i feel my stomach flip and i smile at her. "y/n!" she embraces me. "i'm so happy to see you!"
i hug her back and smile. "me too, sar. how's everything been?"
"the usual but i can't complain." she sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "it's been forever."
"it has." i sigh. "it really has."
we all share stories and laugh around the table. we take shots, chug beer, and play different drinking games. just like old times sake.
"i need another beer." i say with a slight slur in my voice, standing up. "anyone else?" everyone shakes their head as i excuse myself.
i walk up to the bar and wait my turn, twirling my debit card in my hand. it could be the alcohol but i feel content and happy to be home.
"y/n?"
until that moment.
i don't want to turn around, i don't even want to accept my fate in this situation.
i know that voice, i could recognize it in a crowd of millions of people. it was the voice that lingered in my dreams, my thoughts.
i turn around and look at the man.
"rafe."
he looks older, his hair buzzed and some facial hair covering his face. but those eyes. they are the same eyes of the boy i loved.
we stood there, not saying a word. just taking the sight of one another in.
"i didn't know you were home." he says, not breaking eye contact.
i nod, biting my lip. "i am, i got home monday."
he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "how long you here for?"
"till saturday. then i'm going back to boston." my throat feels scratchy and my face is on fire. i want to be anywhere but here now.
his eyes continue to study me. "two more budweiser's, please." he says to the bartender. i open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head. "on me, think of it as a welcome home gift."
the bartender hands me the beer and i smile. i turn back to rafe and tip the bottle to him. "thanks."
"no problem." he clinks his bottle to mine. we both take a long sip. my eyes are desperately trying to find a place to land, ending up on the bright sign above the bar. but rafe's are still on me.
"you okay?" kiara asks as she walks behind rafe. she is my gurdian angel.
"yeah, just waiting for my beer. excuse me." i squeeze past rafe and walk back to my table. i look back at him and smiles. i hate him.
a few drinks more and my ears are ringing. it was loud and everyone was far too drunk. i excuse myself for air outside. there are a few people lingering, smoking cigarettes or waiting for ubers. i smile and take in the nostalgia.
"you know, it would've been nice to know you were home." i hear rafe's voice next to me.
i roll my eyes and look up at him. "oh, would it have been? sorry, i didn't think you'd care." i say coldly. that liquid courage is taking control.
he looks down at me. "and why would i have not cared?"
"hmm, let me think." i put my finger to my chin. "oh, right. 'don't ever contact me again. we're so over. i wish i never met you. blah. blah. blah.' do you want me to go on?" i say to him.
i watch as he processes what i said to him, the words of our last fight. he looks guilty, for once in his life. "that was years ago, y/n. w-we were just kids."
"oh, really? then why haven't i heard from you for the past few years? phone works both ways, rafe." i say, shrugging.
he stands there quietly, i got him.
"how's school been?" he asks, nonchalantly.
"are you for real?" i ask.
"what? i'm being nice." he says.
i huff with frustration. "you are such an ass." i push pass him and walk onto the sidewalk.
"where are you going?" he asks, following after me.
"away from you." i say, not looking back.
i hear him run up behind me and he gently grabs my arm. "y/n. y/n, stop."
i turn to look at him. "what do you want from me, huh? you want to torture me even more?"
he stares at me, hand still on my arm. "what? of course not. y/n, i missed you."
"fuck off." i spit out without thinking.
"you're drunk."
"and you're an asshole." i say, flatly. "you...you fucking broke my heart and you expect me to act like everything is fucking dandy?"
"y/n." he tries to plead his case.
"no, rafe. you don't get to waltz in here and act like everything is okay with us. do you know how much you fucked me over? one day you're telling me you love me and you want to move to boston with me and the next, you're dumping me over the phone." i poke his chest. "i did everything you wanted, i kept what we had between us a secret, i took care of you. and nothing was enough for you."
he looks down at his feet in guilt. "i-i know, i'm sorry. i was...i was fucked up back then. with my dad on my case and the drinking...i wasn't okay. i felt like..." he cut himself off.
"what, rafe? you felt like, what?" i ask.
"like i was going to hold you back, alright?" he raises his voice. "you are too good for this place, for me. i didn't want to hold you back. i loved you too much to do that to you." i stare at him and laugh. "what? what's so fucking funny?"
"you, rafe. you." i sigh. "instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid. we could've worked that out. but you were too scared." i close my eyes and shake my head. "goodbye, rafe."
i walk down the street, hugging my body as the wind blows. a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but there's still that feeling i get whenever i think of him. that feeling that i miss him.
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thanksgiving flew by, even though i had a hangover that felt like it would last a lifetime.
i helped my mom clean up the kitchen as the pogues did the dishes and took the trash out. just like old times.
once we were done, we sat outside around the bonfire. you would think after yesterday, drinking would come to a halt but jj found a bottle of vodka in the freezer and mixed it with kiara's apple cider. we all enjoyed each other's company but my mind could not help but wander. my last conversation with rafe ringing through my head.
"instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid."
i shake my head and take a sip of my spiked cider. as much as it rang true, there was still that part of me that wonders 'what if?'. the more i thought about it, the more i wanted to pick up my phone.
no, i need to be the bigger person. i'm stronger than that. i can't text him first.
then i felt my phone buzz in my lap.
rafe: hey
i stare at the text and bite my lip. i know i should ignore it, let it go unread. but my fingers work against my brain and type 'hi' back to him. i sit there, eagerly waiting for a response.
rafe: can we talk?
rafe: i'm sorry about last night, i'm a fucking idiot.
rafe: there's so many things i could say to you rn
rafe: but i miss you.
rafe: i wanna see you.
i look around at my friends and sigh, they would be so mad at me for this.
y/n: sure, give me like an hour.
y/n: park down the street at the usual spot.
my friends leave my house, mainly due to me faking another wave of hungover puking. i run upstairs and check myself out in the mirror, i look damn good. when i get his text, i sneak out the backdoor and hurry down the street. i see his truck parked under the big tree, the spot he always parked in.
i open the truck door and hop into the passenger seat. i look over at him, he's still in his dressy clothes. a blue polo that hugged his arms right and khakis that made his thighs look exceptionally big. he knew what he was doing and i can't tell if i hate him or love him for it.
we drive in silence for a bit, his radio playing music faintly. his hands grip the steering wheel as his mind looks like he's on another planet. i play with the ends of my sweatshirt, anxiously waiting for him to do something. anything.
he pulls up to the beach, the spot where we would always come to. it was dark and the waves crashed against the shore loudly. he turns the car off and looks over at me.
"thanks for meeting me." he says simply.
"sure."
"i'm sorry about last night. you went out to have fun and i ruined it, i know i did."
i just nod at him.
"and...you were right. about it all." he sighs, running his hands over his face. "i should've manned up, talked to you about how i was feeling. but you know how i get. i get too in my head and just jump to conclusions. it wasn't fair to you." he looks into my eyes. "these past few years without you have been a living hell and i have only myself to blame."
"are you drunk? high?" i ask.
"w-what?"
"are you not sober?" i ask again.
"i'm sorry, what? of course i'm fucking sober." he says. "why would i not be?"
"rafe cameron...taking accountability? i'm sorry, it just seems so...foreign?" i laugh.
"i'm being serious, y/n."
i laugh again. "oh, i'm sure. and...the sky is green. we live on the planet pluto. aliens exist and so do unicorns!"
he pinches the bridge of his nose. "y/n, i'm telling the truth! god, you always joke around."
"yeah, because i know you." i say to him. "and you would rather eat concrete than admit you are wrong."
"eat concrete?" he asks, with a smirk.
"you know what i mean!" i huff with frustration.
he grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. "y/n, i am fully sober. we are not in another universe, it is not opposite day. i was wrong and i am sorry."
my brain malfunctions as i look into his eyes. "y-you mean it?"
"every word i said."
my brain not working means i experienced a lack of better judgment. i grab rafe by his collar and connect our lips for the first time in years. this kiss, the one i have longed for since i left this place, was the missing puzzle piece i've been searching for in my life. everything seemed to make sense again.
his hands cupped my cheeks as his tongue slipped into my mouth. he was hungry for me and i wasn't going to stop him because i felt insatiable as well. his hands roamed from my cheeks down to my neck and onto my shoulders.
i needed more.
i climbed onto his lap and straddled him. my arms connected around his neck as he pressed against me. i felt his cock hard against his khakis and i wanted it. i wanted it all. i rubbed myself against him, causing us both to moan.
he continued to kiss me until he broke away and looked at me. his puffy lips formed a cocky smile as he brushed his nose against mine. "you missed me."
"shut up." i was itching for more.
"admit it, you missed me. you missed the way i made you feel." he states.
"rafe, shut up and kiss me, please."
"ah ah ah." he shook his head. "not until you tell me."
"you're such an ass." i roll my eyes, trying to catch my breathe.
"yet, here you are, rubbing yourself against me in my truck." he says, kissing my cheek. his lips then go to my ear and down my neck. "i want it all with you, right now, babe. but i need to hear it."
"fine! fuck, i missed you. are you happy?" i groan, needing him.
"very. get in the backseat." he demands. i quickly follow his order, hopping in the back over the seats. he gets out of the truck and opens up the back door, sliding in next to me. "come here." he pulls me back onto his lap and we pick up where we left off. i continue to rub myself against him as he sloppily kisses me. "just like old times." he jokes and i hit his shoulder. "c'mon, don't act like you don't think about it."
"oh, i do. but i bet you think about it more than i do." i smirk.
"probably." he laughs. his fingers fall to the hem of my sweater and he plays with it. "now are we only here to kiss or?"
"why? you wanna fuck me in your truck? just like old times." i say, making fun of what he just said.
"i do, i wanna fuck you right here, right now. it's all i've been wanting to do." he kisses my jawline. "do you want me to fuck you?"
this is what i missed the most, our back and forth.
"yes, rafe. i want you to fuck me." i moan out.
with that, he practically rips my sweater off my body and starts to kiss down my chest. his large hands palm my clothed breast. i bite my lip and let my head fall back, missing the way he affected my body. i felt his hand snake around to the back and unclip my bra quickly.
"show off." i say, out of breathe.
i smirks and connects his lips to my nipple, sucking and licking it. his hand massaging my other. "don't pretend you don't like it."
i smirk and shake my head.
he continues to focus on my tits, going back and forth between the two.
"more." i whisper, eyes clenched shut.
"what was that?" he asked in a teasing tone.
"i need more, rafe. please." i beg.
"look at you all needy for me. i knew you missed me." his hand slipped under my jeans and panties, stopping right at my core. i felt his fingers curl inside me, going in and out. "all wet for me, huh? what a good girl." he pushed in, fingering my cunt, when his thumb found my sensitive bud. he added pressure, circling it, and i felt as though i was seeing stars.
"s-shit." i cry out, moving my hips to try and gain some friction.
"feel good, baby? let me hear how could i make you feel." he picked up his pace and a pornographic moan escaped my lips. it's been forever since someone has made me feel this good. rafe knew my body like it was his own, he knew how to get me going. "there we go, like how my fingers feel?"
"u-uh huh." i nod, mouth hanging open.
his fingers worked their magic, rubbing my clit at a pace that'll make me come undone in no time. "love the way you look on top of me, baby. so fucking sexy." he attached his lips to my tits again and continued fingering me.
i felt on fire.
i place one hand on the window and the other on his shoulder, holding on for dear life. the more he whispered about me and the faster his fingers were going, i was cumming on his fingers before i knew it. i rode out my high, screaming his name. once i was done, i felt him pull his fingers out of my pants, my juices getting all over myself. i stared down at him, trying to catch my breathe, as he popped his fingers into his mouth and sucked.
"just as good as i remember." he cleaned his fingers off and kissed me again. my hands ran down his buff chest and stopped at the bottom of his polo, lifting it up. his gold chain laid against his chiseled body, he was perfect. i felt as though i was in a trance as i began to kiss down his chest. i could feel his groans vibrating in his chest and i smirked because i was the one making him feel this way. "i need to fuck you."
"you need to?" i laugh, kissing lower and lower.
"yes, y/n. i need to bury myself inside of you, please." he pleaded.
"i like when you're the one begging." i bite him lightly, causing him to hiss.
"i bet."
i unbuttoned his khakis and sat up so he could slip them off. his grey boxers were discolored from the precum leaking off his cock. he took his underwear off and his cock sprung out. "i-i don't have protection." he said, mentally cursing himself out.
"well, are you clean?" i ask.
"yes. i-i haven't been with anyone since." he openly admitted.
i felt the darkness overtake my eyes as i lower myself down onto him. his breath hitched as he slipped all the way in. he was deep inside of me, causing a few tears to leave my eyes. but the pain subsided as he started to rock my hips with his hands, moving me back and forth. i picked up the rhythm he started with me and placed my hands on his shoulder to steady myself. i felt the truck rocking back and forth as i did so.
his hands found my ass and rested there. "fuck, i missed your pussy. so good, takes me so well." he kissed my chest as i grinded back and forth.
i felt my finger nails dig into his shoulder as his cock hit all the right spots. i looked down at him and he stared at me in awe, like i was some work of art. "fuck, rafe. you're so big."
i bite my lip as i let my head fall back in pleasure. i ride him fast as i keep saying his name. "shit, y/n. you're such a good girl, you're so hot. you feel so tight."
i connect our lips, i feel his hands tighten around my ass. this means he was close. "i want you to cum in me, rafe." his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to ask for permission. "p-please fill me up. i miss it so much." i say, trying to catch my breathe.
with that, he lets out a groan and my name falls from his lips like a prayer. "y/n." i feel him coming inside me, painting me. it doesn't take long for his thumb to find my clit again. with the extra pressure applied to my overstimulated cunt, i feel my head reeling. the air in the truck is hot, making it almost hard for me to breath. it all feels too much, my body releasing onto rafe yet again.
we sit there, panting with our eyes closed. i rest my head on his sweaty chest and he kisses me gently. he rubs my back, tracing circles into it.
"felt even better than i imagine." he says, his voice gruff.
"you thought about it a lot, huh?" i smirk.
"all the fucking time."
i take him out of me and sit next to him in the truck. the windows are foggy and our hands find each other, holding them. i get a sense of weird nostalgia, from how things used to be with us.
"well that was a thanksgiving to remember." i joke, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what happened.
"'tis the damn season." he replies.
i slowly slip my sweater back on and try to find my pants.
"w-wait." rafe says. "is this...is this it? just a single fuck and you're gone."
i look at him, his eyes pleading with me.
"i go back to boston on saturday rafe, we only have like a day and a half."
i wish we could keep this going, i wish this was how things always were. but i had to think realistically. i have to go back home, i have to move on with my new life.
he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "boston is only an 11 hour drive. hour or two by plane."
"rafe." i say.
"i can't lose you again. i can't, y/n. these past few years have sucked without you. i can't wait until you come home for christmas again. now that i've got you again, i can't risk it."
i sigh and kiss his hand. "i know. i know." i close my eyes and shake my head. "we'll make it work. we almost did it before."
"we can do it again." he smiles sweetly. i kiss his lips gently, laying my hand against his chest.
"you'd do an 11 hour car ride for me?"
"y/n, i'd fucking walk if i have to." he smiles.
i roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. "you're so cheesy."
he lays me back against the truck seats and kisses me. "don't act like it doesn't work for you."
196 notes · View notes
moomine · 2 days ago
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backwash III | daisuke
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author's note: thank you to literally everyone who’s reading this! you guys are so so sweet and i love you all <3 if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me!! (cover image credit)
summary: (daisuke x f!reader) Sleep is increasingly hard to find on the Tulpar. At night the reader spends her time in the cockpit, thinking about home. When she feels the whim to sleep, she ventures back to the sleeping quarters, only to bump into Daisuke. Instead, she joins him for a midnight snack and some conversation in the lounge.
word count: 2,372
warnings: no trigger warnings! all characters are 18+
now playing: Dave Bixby - "Morning Sun"
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EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 034—
There was this movie I watched once when I was a kid, about a little girl who falls from the sky. Although I can’t remember the title of it now. I do remember that she was a part of another world, a part of something bigger. She was important. I don’t think you have us write these to talk about movies, do you? I’m sure you’d rather hear about the operations on board, or the technical difficulties, or if there’s been any damage to the cargo. You know, the “important stuff”.  Everything is running smoothly so far. Is that good?
I want to be a part of something bigger one day. Hopefully this experience will help me. I’m grateful to have this opportunity.
DAY THIRTY-THREE—
Pony Express allowed a maximum of five hours of sleep to their employees on haul. During those five hours, the Tulpar was shadowed by a veil of utter stillness. A silence not too dissimilar to that of a library, or that painful pause in awkward conversation. It was too quiet, which led you to stare at the ceiling until the fatigue of work or boredom got the better of you. Even when you could fall asleep, it was far from restful. Over the past month you had gotten the worst sleep of your entire life thus far. Worse than when you lived in those co-ed dorms with unruly neighbors and argumentative hallways. Worse than those nights thunder cracked down from the darkened sky and you clutched stuffed animals in your chubby, child hands. After a certain point, you had given up on finding sleep at all.
The computer screens within the cockpit would beep on occasion, the sound barely audible over the soft plucking of guitar strings in your headphones. The coords of some old folk song filled your ears instead. You sat in the captain's chair, curling in on yourself with your knees to your chest and arms around your person. Your head snuggled into the dip in your legs, cheek pressed your knee cap as you stared at the sea of glowing green.
Curly had given you permission not too long ago to sit in the cockpit at night. Within the first month of your apprenticeship, you had grown on him quite a bit. The captain had always been a kindhearted person. He was a people pleaser to his core, a man simply happy to help. Curly saw a lot of himself in you, and he knew what it was like to feel, well, restless.
“As long as you promise not to touch anything,” he had said, prefacing his next words with a comforting smile, “you have my permission to use your clearance to the cockpit at night. But if word gets to the higher ups, they’ll have my head, understood? We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”
Normally, you tried to pay attention to how long you had been sitting there, keeping track of each song that played to count the minutes as they passed, but tonight you hadn’t. With a sigh, you reluctantly stood from Curly’s chair, deciding to give sleep another try. You slipped your Walkman into the pocket of your pajama pants and left the cockpit. Each step you took was quiet, almost imperceivable, as you walked down the hall toward the sleeping quarters. You didn’t want to disturb the others, although you had a feeling nobody else was sleeping all that well either. The rusted, trusty pipes groaned as you passed, their settling moans somehow bypassing the volume of your music. It made you feel uneasy. You reached into your pocket and turned the music up a bit in an attempt to drown out the sound. 
Rounding the corner, you finally reached the door to the sleeping quarters. Just as you reached for the door handle, it slid open seemingly on its own, causing you to flinch. Standing there—holding a flashlight in one hand and with the other placed against his chest—was Daisuke, looking far more caught off guard than you felt. You winced as he shined the light directly into your eyes.
“Holy shit, dude,” he breathed, voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “You straight up scared the hell out of me. What are you doing walking around in the dark?” Daisuke adjusted his aim and shot the beam at the ceiling instead, creating enough light for the two of you to see each other a little better.
With a soft laugh, you pulled your headphones from your ears, allowing them to hang around the back of your neck. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”
“You too?” Daisuke questioned.
“I’m surprised anyone can sleep on this thing,” you whispered. “Where are you going?”
His eyes dropped in embarrassment as he used his free hand to rub nervous circles against the side of his neck. “I’m… I’m grabbing a snack from the lounge. You wanna come?”
“Yeah, if you want me to.” You didn’t hesitate. Anything sounded better than tossing and turning. You stepped to the side, permitting him enough space to walk out of the doorway then alongside you.
Daisuke breathed a chuckle at your response. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.”
“Then I guess I’m coming,” you said in a hushed, playful tone.
Daisuke looked at you with a smile and nodded, shining his flashlight down the hall as the two of you began to walk in silence. In the quiet of the hall, the door to the lounge seemed to open with a deafening wheeze. Deep, royal blue illuminated the large room. The night-time window screen displayed a starry sky with wisp-like clouds, bathing the room with an otherworldly glow. It reminded you of going to the aquarium as a kid, surrounded by water and the smell of saltwater. You half expected to look up and see sharks and fish swimming overhead, but you knew all there would be was a dull, blank ceiling and slumbering lights.
Daisuke stuck his head through the doorway, peeking to see if anyone was already inside. When he determined that the coast was clear—although it wouldn’t have mattered anyway considering the noise of the door, he motioned for you to follow him inside.
“Hell yeah! The place is ours,” Daisuke celebrated, speaking louder once the door closed behind you two. He walked toward the vending machines with long, intentional strides. You tread on his heels, gaze fixed on him in amusement as he looked over the different options. 
You pulled your Walkman from your pocket, then leaned against the bar, palms pressed to the countertop as you pushed yourself up, and took a seat on the cool, brown laminate. “Is there normally someone else here?”
“Hmm?” He barely heard you, too fixated on what he was going to eat. As he processed what you had said, the words loading behind his eyes in a turning spiral, he ordered a pack of freeze-dried fruit and tore into the package. “Oh, nah. Not usually. I mean, I’ve seen Anya in here once or twice, but she’s always coming from medical bay. Getting coffee for those late nights, I guess.”
“She works too much,” you noted. “I wish she wouldn’t push herself like that.”
“You two seem close.” Daisuke approached, leaning against the counter beside you.
“Yeah. You could say that.” A tender smile graced your lips at the thought of you and Anya being close.
There was a pause, a brief lull in the otherwise newborn conversation. A series of crunches sounded from your right where Daisuke stood as he popped piece after piece into his mouth. You glanced over at him, the tenderness of your smile warping into something more entertained. He glanced over at you in turn, his mouth full of apple as he mustered a lopsided smile.
“Hey, it’s your Walkman,” he exclaimed after a swallow, pointing at the dated tech in your lap. “Whatcha listening to?”
“Oh,” you peeped with a suddenly flustered look on your face. “It’s a mix my mom made for me. Just a bunch of old folk stuff she used to play for me when I was little.”
“Can I listen?” he asked, shoving another piece of fruit in his mouth.
“S-Sure, yeah.” You unplugged your headphones and played the tape. It crackled, the old speaker not what it used to be. Or what it ever was, truthfully.
Maybe the quality of the sound would have bothered somebody else, but not Daisuke. As your small corner of the lounge filled with the sound of guitar—the stories of rural towns, first loves, and early mornings, Daisuke set his snack on the counter and listened intently. It was far from what he’d normally like, but something about listening to it here, with you made it sound perfect.
“It’s funny, actually. I never used to like this stuff back on Earth, but lately this is the only one I want to listen to,” you said over the music.
“You must really miss her.” Daisuke inched closer, standing less than a foot away from you as he leaned against the counter. His gaze flickered up to your face, quietly admiring the curves and arches of your profile. Under the blue light of the night time window screen, any blemish or imperfection on your face seemed to vanish. Not that he had ever noticed any imperfections on you. Matter of fact, for some reason, he couldn’t imagine seeing any part of you as imperfect. Even if he tried. There was a somber look in your expression as he spoke, one that made his stomach twist in knots.
“So much. I didn’t think it would be this hard being away from home.” Your voice was just above a whisper now. You felt your eyes begin to burn, the familiar sensation of tears welling in the corners as you tried to suppress the ebbing flow. With the shake of your head, you let out a quick laugh, feeling the tension gradually lifted from your shoulders. “What kind of music do you like?”
Daisuke didn’t blink or care about the change in discussion. He didn’t care about what the two of you talked about, and he wasn’t going to pry either. He knew that you would open when you felt comfortable enough to do so, and he was happy to wait however long that would take.
“A bit of everything, I guess. It kinda pisses me off when people say that and, like, they don’t actually mean it.” He slid his snack off of the bar and extended it to you, shaking it as the pieces inside rattled against each other. “I have a pretty impressive vinyl collection back home. Got everything from Etta James to Duster. You should see it sometime.”
Weakly, you smiled and took a piece of the fruit from the package. “Maybe when all of this is said and done. After the haul?”
“I’d love that,” Daisuke responded quickly, eyes trailing over your face. After another moment of silence, a brief break in conversation, he shifted on his heels and looked away. “So, you uh… you got anyone waiting for you back home? Y’know, like friends? A boyfriend? Or uh, a girlfriend? If you, like, swing that way or whatever. Which would be totally cool, obviously. I’ve got a bunch of gay friends-”
“Daisuke,” you said with a hint of that ever familiar amusement in your voice. “Relax, okay?”
He looked back at you and nodded. “Right, yeah… So, do you?”
“Friends? Yeah, a bunch. I miss them too. But a partner, not so much…” You felt your cheeks light up, a soft pink flush dusting the peaks of your cheekbones and the ridge of your nose.
“Hey, that’s cool,” he responded, bumping shoulders with you and trying not to sound too happy about your response. “Me neither. I mean, like I said, I’ve got loads of friends. Just not the whole girlfriend boyfriend thing.”
“Look at us,” you mused. “One in the same.”
“Yup, one in the same.” Daisuke glanced back at you hopefully, then looked away. He downed the rest of his dried fruit and crumpled up the package, tossing it in the direction of a nearby trashcan and missing by a couple feet. He winced, feeling a tinge of embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“You gonna go get that?” you asked jokingly, pushed yourself from the countertop, and landed on your feet, securely tucking your Walkman back into your pocket as the music stopped.
“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes and walked toward the trash before picking it up and disposing of it properly. “It’s on the way out anyway. In fact, I meant to do that.”
You trailed after him, following close behind as the two of you approached the exit to the lounge. “Totally,” you teased, smiling up at him.
Yet again, the door slid open with that deafening screech as Daisuke and you left the lounge. Together, you walked back to the sleeping quarters. At the door, Daisuke turned to you and stopped. His brown eyes trailed over your features once more in the darkness, illuminated only by the light of the flashlight in his hands. Even in the blackness of the hallway, his smile was bright. His gap-toothed grin seemed almost bright enough to flood the entire hallway with light.
“Thanks for coming with me,” he spoke quietly.
“Thank you for inviting me,” you responded.
Daisuke opened his mouth as if to speak, but the words he wanted to say seemed caught in his throat. Instead, he just nodded and displayed that same smile. Your brows furrowed questioningly, an expression that made his heart skip a bit. Before you could say anything, he opened the door to the sleeping quarters and ushered you inside.
“Goodnight, [Name]. See ya in the morning.” He bit his lip, walking backward toward his room and nearly stumbling when he reached the door.
“Sweet dreams, Daisuke.” 
With that, you slipped into your room with a strange feeling in your chest. A tightness you hadn’t felt since high school, since hallway crushes and etching names into wooden picnic tables. An ache at the loss of his presence. How strange.
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pookies (taglist): @xcryptk33p3rx @freakyydaisukee @sanctuaryofsmartiess @st4rrysblog @academiq @c4t-n1pp @iiveraii
143 notes · View notes
smartkookiee · 3 days ago
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Wounds We Never Show // Ch.5 — jjk.
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: Drinking, Swearing, Fighting, morning after regrets, flashbacks(2x) , mentions of cheating, previous relationship trauma, college flashback, stupid ex boyfriend, bothering yoongi (cause he deserves to be bothered), vic laughs in your face, yeah more confusing feelings ❥word-count: 8.8k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・
Four Years Ago - Just before Melanie and Namjoon met. 
“Holy shit.” You set down your drink on the table. Your eyes landing on Jungkook, who just happened to enter the same bar you and your friends decided to have a night out at. 
Who you haven’t seen in a year.
It was just a casual outing and you had a rough shift so a few drinks were going to hit the spot for you right now. You and Melanie invited Ash to join you to hang out. She was a new friend to the both of you and you really wanted to get to know her better. No better way than to have a few drinks and sit and talk.
Ash, glanced in the direction you were looking. “What is it?” 
You shake your head and take another sip of your drink, tracking Jungkook across the bar as he seemed to greet some guys he seemed to know. 
“Oh it’s nothing. Just some guy I knew in college.” You try to brush it off, tracing the rim of your drink. The past frustrations are bubbling up.
“Which one?” Melanie leaned close, as you pointing him out subtly trying not to pull focus to your little group. “Oh wow. He’s cute, did you guys date or something?” 
You stifle a laugh, “No, I fucking hate that guy.” 
“What happened?” Ash tilted her head glancing over to Jungkook. Her curiosity peaked. 
“Oh it’s a long story.” You wave your hand trying to breeze past to another subject. 
“Oh come on spill.” Melanie bumped her shoulder into yours, encouraging you to open up. You and Melanie had only known each other a few months and although you had gotten close pretty quickly. This Jungkook thing was old news and not something you even had to worry about anymore.
“He’s just an ass. We got into a huge fight and I said some things, he said some things and we can’t stand each other. This is the first time I’ve seen him since.” You try to keep the details as vague as possible.
“Damn that sucks.” Melanie nodded, “It wasn’t’ like a secret love affair or something scandalous like that?” She teased and your eyes shot open in shock.
“Yeah if I ever sleep with that guy, someone needs to get me a brain scan because something is seriously wrong with me.” You laughed giving a nonchalant wave of your hand, as if brushing off the question.
Ash pursed her lips, “I mean… He’s cute so maybe you would be totally sane.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・
Present Day
“Awe crap.” Jungkook ran a hand over his face as he sat up in his bed. The whole night comes back in a quick flash. 
It was real though… the two of you had slept together… again.
You sat in a frustrated but dumbfounded daze next to him. Silent, staring at the ground. Recounting every single step from the night before. How Jungkook found you buried in the sea of people. Helped you get to the bathroom, one second you were fighting and then the next… 
You both stayed silent like this for just a moment before you took the pillow behind you swinging it around to hit Jungkook. “You idiot.” 
Jungkook blocked himself from getting hit in just enough time. “What?” 
You swung the pillow again, hitting his arms with a thud. “Stupid dumb idiot.” You really weren’t sure if you were saying this to him or to yourself now. Felt good to take the frustration out on him with the pillow. 
“You think I planned this!” Jungkook spat back with you in annoyance, “I’m clearly just as shocked as you are.” You swung the pillow one more time to hit him but this time Jungkook grabs it. “Stop!” 
You get up from the bed with an exaggerated groan, mumbling some things under your breath. You walked and grabbed your pants pulling them back up your legs with some frustration and force. “Shut up. Make me. What the hell was that?” 
As you quickly dressed, your phone slipped out of your pocket and clattered to the floor. You snatched it up, wincing as the screen lit up: almost 9 AM. You didn’t have any pressing plans today, but staying here was the last thing you wanted.
Jungkook got up from his bed. Jungkook, still standing, watched you with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, and what about you? Kiss me, Jungkook.” He pitched his voice in a high, mocking imitation of you.
You shot him an incredulous look, pointing at him angrily. “I do not sound like that.” You storm past him, shoving him, grabbing your bra. “What about you? Let’s get out of here and I prefer a bed.” You pitched your voice as well to mock him back. 
“Well I do.” He nods his head to the side but then shakes his head, “Not the point. You wanted it just as bad as I did.” 
You scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping. “Fine, whatever. Maybe I did. But I swear you placed some demonic spell on me.”
“I should be the one checking myself for hex’s if anything!”  Jungkook says, checking out his arms and chest dramatically. 
You stormed out of the room, your eyes now adjusting to the daylight as you glanced at his apartment. It looked completely different now. His place was so nice and clean. Well put together and he actually had things well decorated. How annoying. Jungkook threw on a pair of sweatpants and followed you down the hallway, his tone turning serious.
You bent down to put on your shoes, frustration bubbling up as you fumbled with the laces. “I don’t do hookups. I’m too busy. What a load of crap!”
Jungkook leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. “Hey, that’s true! Between the trial I’ve got coming up and all the other crap in my life, I’m genuinely surprised.”
You narrowed your eyes, not slowing down as you tried to shove your other shoe onto your foot. “Yeah, like I’m supposed to believe that.”
He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Says the one who swore after last time this would never happen again.” He looked at you with a smirk, his gaze unwavering. “I remember that pretty clearly. You always keep your word, so what happened?”
You froze mid-motion, turning to face him with a frustrated, exasperated sigh. “I had a lot to drink, my judgement was skewed. Okay?”
Jungkook’s smirk deepened, and he stepped closer, his voice teasing but with an edge of something more. “So did I. Still doesn’t explain why we’re here, does it?”
You paused, a bitter laugh escaping you as you patted your pockets, checking for your keys. “I don’t even know whether to laugh or cry. Laugh at how big of an idiot I am, or cry about ending up in bed with you again.”
You yanked the front door open, spinning on your heel just before it slammed shut, giving him a sarcastic middle finger over your shoulder as you walked away.
Jungkook rolled his eyes, calling after you. “Fuck off!”
The door slammed shut behind you, and you darted down the hallway, the elevator feeling like the only escape. You needed to get out of there, fast. You needed to breathe. To feel something that wasn’t this—whatever this was.
The moment you stepped into the elevator, your mind flooded with flashes from the night before. The elevator doors shut, but in your mind, it felt like you were still there with him, every second replaying itself in vivid detail. You remembered the way he kissed you, the way he touched you, the way your body betrayed you. How you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You were fighting and then you were in it.
What the hell was that? You didn’t have an answer, only questions swirling in your head.
And why… did it feel so good?
You couldn’t shake the image of his face, between your legs, from your mind for the rest of the day. It lingered with you, haunting every moment. You forced yourself into a cold shower just so you could force yourself to not think about anything other than keeping yourself warm. You tried to stay busy, distracting yourself from the truth that kept creeping back. That whatever skills Jungkook had with his tongue had left its mark on you, and you wouldn’t easily forget it.
You weren’t the only one haunted. 
As good as Jungkook was at pushing things from his mind, this was not something he could easily do this time. He couldn’t get the moments in the bathroom out of his mind, how just for one moment you both just surrendered and you actually laughed at him. Felt like you could be friends almost. You may have looked like friends to anyone else… very complicated friends. 
It’s not like there wasn’t a time when you two couldn’t have been friends. 
In fact there was a time when you were friends, before it all went south. 
Jungkook had been thinking about that time more often lately, about how you two bridged the gap before. Which was really funny to think about now, considering this week. That there ever was a time where you two really got along, and got along well. 
Funny enough it was a pretty similar instance to every time you encountered each other this last week.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・
Five years ago
You decided a break was long overdue. Between the mountain of homework and David, your ex, relentless texting you, your mind felt like it was on the verge of imploding. A quick walk to the convenience store on the edge of campus seemed like the perfect way to clear your head, just enough to get back to work without screaming into your pillow.
David has been spending weeks trying to get ahold of you. Trying to explain himself again and make you look like an idiot again because he’s convinced you twice to get back together with him, why not one more time? 
The store’s door jingled as you pushed it open, a wave of cool air brushing past you. The cashier barely glanced up from his phone as you headed straight for the energy drinks. Your eyes scanned the rows until you grabbed two cans—one for tonight and one for the impending hell of tomorrow.
You turned, heading to the snacks, but as soon as you rounded the corner of the aisle, you collided with someone.
“Shit—” you muttered, barely managing to keep hold of your drinks.
“Maybe look where you’re going,” came the familiar, clipped voice. Of course coming from Jungkook.
You blinked at him, your stomach twisting with instant irritation. “Oh.”
Jungkook just brushed past you. You had spent several weeks of your project meeting together to work but you had been icing him out. He had tried to smooth things over, even had a friend come and try to decipher what issue you had with him was. You really had nothing to say to your ex’s friends after what happened. Seems Jungkook has finally gotten the hint you didn’t want to be friends and just wanted to get this project over with.
You rolled your eyes, clutching the cans tighter as you moved to the shelf beside him, pretending he wasn’t there. His presence, of course, was hard to ignore, especially when he turned his head to glance at your selection.
Jungkook had become pretty fed up with your cold shoulder. He had tried being nice but your weeks of angry muttering and silence really got under his skin. When he had no idea what he had even done wrong, and with how his week had been going he didn’t really have any patience left for you. He grabbed what he liked but the both of you had ended up in the same aisle again. 
You both took a small glance at what the other had collected. 
“Really? Energy drinks and chips? Healthy.” He remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Your face twisted in some confusion at his comment,“Really? Beer and a box of instant noodles? Classy,” you shot back without missing a beat, nodding at his haul.
“Didn’t realize you were keeping tabs on my diet.” He said, deadpan, before turning his attention to the shelf again.
“I just have eyes.” You grabbed a pack of granola bars and turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.
Jungkook had noticed your recent choice of beverage from your last few meet ups for the project. Always the same and always two. “You know, those won’t magically help you stay awake. Might want to try water—or sleep.”
“Wow. Riveting advice, Jungkook,” you said over your shoulder. “Maybe next time, write a self-help book. Call it How to Be Annoying in Five Easy Steps.”
His lip curled into a half-smirk. “And you’d call yours How to Be Petty Without Even Trying.”
“Catchy,” you shot back. “I’ll let you write the foreword.”
“Pass. I’d rather not waste my time.”
“Then stop talking to me,” you snapped, giving him a pointed glare before brushing past him.
Jungkook leaves you alone, doesn’t even entertain you anymore. That was fine though, you needed to get back to your homework. You checkout with your stuff and get out of there pretty quickly. Pushing the door open, you start home but are immediately greeted with satan in the flesh. 
“Oh god damn it, I cannot catch a break.” A puff of air leaves your lungs, exhaustion setting in. “How did you even know where I was David?”
“Baby I know everything about you. You always come here on your study days. Which is always Thursdays. Around this time.” He says it so matter of fact, because he does know you too well. It made your skin crawl. 
“I’m not your baby.” You try to walk past him but he steps in front of you. “Stop texting,  stop calling, and don’t ever show up somewhere I frequent again. It’s creepy.”
“Please just hear me out.” He starts but you put a hand up to him and push him away.
“No David, because you will make the same promises that you have made me over and over again. Once again making me look stupid. You give me the same stupid speech every time that I ‘am the one’, and it was a ‘mistake’, and that it was ‘just a one time thing’, and that ‘I’m so special to you’, blah blah blah.” You rub the side of your head with your free hand that doesn’t have your bag. 
“I was wrong, every single time I was wrong. I’m here because I know you, I know that in that bag you have two energy drinks because you are going to drink one tonight and you are going to keep one for another day!” He keeps blocking your way, you keep trying to step around him but he’s not going to let you go until he gets his whole speech out. 
“So what? You know one thing about me? Anyone who spends any amount of time around me knows that!” 
“That’s not all. I know you. I know how you look when you are frustrated about something and you scrunch up your nose.” He took a step forward but you maintain the same distance between the both of you. “I know that you say you are a fan of action movies but you much prefer something funny or thought provoking.”
“Please stop.”
“I’m not here to give you the same speech again. I want you. We will graduate and I want the life we talked about forever ago. I’m not making the same promises like before. I will do anything to prove to you I am the most serious I have ever been.” David begged, he was making that same face he made very single time. One that made you believe it but you weren’t falling for it anymore, you were just pissed off now.
Right at that moment you heard the store door close behind you. Great, just great. Now Jungkook gets to experience this embarrassing moment for you. Since he’s one of David’s closest friends, probably help him. Say something like ‘David is so awesome and amazing’. You turn to look at Jungkook, who seemed to be confused about what was transpiring in front of him. David has stopped talking at this point and is also looking over atJungkook. 
Jungkook observing the both of you, he could tell something is off. 
“Hey man.” David calls over to him, voice suddenly diffused and cheerful, and he waves a little. “Haven’t seen you around, how’s it going?”
“Uhh,” Jungkook looked at his plan of escape and seemed to abandon it but didn’t come closer to the two of you. “Good man, Just busy.” 
You were trapped. You wouldn’t be able to get out of this, but still the look you gave to Jungkook suggested that you needed help getting out of this situation. You could only hope he sees it, and sees that even if you have been treating him like crap he may be the only person to get David to back off. 
“You should come hang out, everyone misses you. ” David spoke up again, trying to fill the weighing silence between the three of you.
“I’m okay, actually.” Jungkook says, his voice is monotone and unwavering. Almost mad? He took a couple steps closer to the two of you. Jungkook had caught on to your look for help. “Everything okay here?”
He could tell you were extremely uncomfortable, and he knew if David had an idea he wasn’t going to let it go. For whatever reason, that was you right now.
“Yeah, we are just talking really quick.” David spoke in place of you, before you could get a word out. 
David placed a hand on your shoulder and you immediately recoiled away. Jungkook right at that moment got an idea. He had no idea if it would work or if you even really wanted his help. He decided it was worth a shot though. 
“You ready to go?” He spoke directly to you.
It surprised you and you stared at him for a moment with a confused look, one David was unable to see from standing behind you.
“Uhh…” Your eyebrows screw together. 
“You guys know each other?” David stepped into the space that was between you and Jungkook. 
“Not really.” You say, which was the truth. 
“We are working on something together.” Jungkook fills in the blank, almost too quickly after you. He was looking directly at David, and was standing taller now. 
“Well, can we just have a minute?” David asks. His demeanor changed in response to the change in Jungkook’s tone and stance. Defensive. 
Jealous?
“No we need to go.” Jungkook comes over to you and takes the bag out of your hand, adding it to the arm he already had his on. You almost on instinct protest him but hold yourself back. Whatever Jungkook was doing was working and you just might be able to get out of here. Hurricane David would pass.
“Y/N I just need a minute.” David looked a little flustered by the intrusion. 
“No. We are done.” You speak abruptly and move closer to Jungkook’s direction. 
“Seriously?” David looks at you, he was definitely frustrated, and that filled you with sense of relief. 
“Yeah. Seriously.” You say.
“Head home David.” Jungkook steps backwards in the direction towards campus. “I think it’s time we left as well.”
“Fine, go then.” David snorts, he takes a quick step over to Jungkook, leaning into his ear and then says something else inaudible to you. Which, after a moment, results in Jungkook pushing David harshly away from him. 
“Hey let’s go.” You grab onto Jungkook’s arm and you head towards the direction of the dorms. Quickly. David doesn’t get another word in, you and Jungkook kept the same pace and moved in quick silence. 
“What a fucking douche.” Jungkook finally says once you guys are far enough away. 
“I thought you were friends?” You ask, now confused. Wasn’t he like Jungkook’s best friend? That’s how David always described him.
“Not anymore.” He looks at you, “I hope he didn’t bug you too much.” 
“Oh, he will. He’s probably going to text me any minute.” You dread it in fact. He was annoyingly persistent in the times you guys were… off.
“How do you know him?” 
You let out a sigh. That was a loaded question indeed.
“It’s a very long and taxing story.” 
“Want to talk about it?”
“Maybe after a drink or five.” You shake your head, joking in your tone. 
Jungkook then ruffles around into his bag. Pulling out a can of a drink that was juice and alcohol mixed together. A mango flavor of some kind. You glance at it and then back up to Jungkook.
“I’ve got time.” 
Jungkook walked you back to your dorm. Usually you wouldn’t invite guys up but your roommate was out for the evening and you weren’t too worried about it right now. You both sat on the ground in your room. Opening up your drinks and sitting, and you begin to explain the long complicated history between you and David. How he cheated once, begged you to come back, cheated again, begged you to come back again, and then shocker… cheated again. Then made you out to be the insane one to everyone you knew. David had this uncanny way of just getting into your head and you were not letting it happen this time.
Jungkook just sat silently and listened. He didn’t try to interject or try to defend David in any way. Just let you get it all out. Which just only piqued your curiosity on their relationship even more. Were they not close like you had been told? Did something happen? 
“And so that’s how he ended up here. Seeking me out again.” You take a sip of your second drink for the night.”
“What the fuck is wrong with him.” Jungkook shook his head and took a sip of his drink. 
“And every time, he made me look just more and more like an idiot. For believing that each time he wants me and wants to be really committed. I kept believing it could happen, but every single time the rug is pulled out from under me and everyone is laughing at me for not seeing that he was going to do it again.” You sigh, you sank down onto the floor further. Feeling like it was dragging you down into it.
“I don’t think you’re an idiot. I think he is an asshole.” Jungkook discards his can into the plastic bag that you two had used for garbage. 
“I was nervous when you came out of the store tonight. I thought you guys were still friends.” 
“No, absolutely not. He pulled some crap a couple of months ago and I hope I never see him again. Clearly he thought we were still friends.” Jungkook picked at his fingernails while talking. 
“He calls you his best friend, you know.” You look to see his reaction and Jungkook snorts. 
“That’s rich.” He tilts his head. “He’s certainly not mine. We were pretty close though.” 
“Not close enough to meet me I guess. His on and off girlfriend.” 
Jungkook paused for a second, clearly trying to carefully choose his next words. “He never mentioned you.” 
You sat up, you eyes narrowing for a second. “What?”
Jungkook chewed on his lip for a moment. “He never really mentioned he had a girlfriend. Not around his friends at least. I had no idea he ever had a serious relationship.” 
You blink one and twice for a moment, taking in his words. You’ve met some of David’s other friends, but he never mentioned you? Not even as a fling? You just laugh because it all makes more sense now. It’s a bitter laugh. 
“Great.” You rub your hands over your face, “That just makes me look even dumber when I would go around being like heres a picture of my boyfriend. Maybe I was just a dirty little secret all along.” 
“I’m sorry.” Jungkook didn’t know how to respond. The whole thing just sucked. 
“No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I treated you with all of this. You didn’t even know anything. You really didn’t know what he was doing. Any of it.” 
“Wait, all this freezing out and bitterness towards me for weeks had to do with David?” Jungkook scrunched his face at you. 
“Yeah, you were his best friend. As far as I knew at least. I assumed that you had to know about all the stuff he was doing to me and the cheating… I just labeled you an asshole like him.” You fidgeted in your seat a little uncomfortable, and you didn’t look up to him. “It was easier to hate you than to hear you out I guess.”
“Huh.” All the pieces were suddenly falling into place now. for Jungkook. 
“David and I were also so on and off. Makes sense why we never met–”
“And I didn’t remember you when class started.” Jungkook nodded, his jaw open in realization. “Because there was nothing to remember.” Every interaction between the two of you suddenly made so much sense now.
“Yeah so I’m sorry for all the bitterness and undeserving frustration. I really thought you knew and were playing dumb.” You pulled your knees up to your chest, trying to hide yourself away. 
“Trust me, if I had known any of that, I probably would have kicked the crap out of him.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I swear I never knew he was seeing someone. Anytime he mentioned… anyone… he would just say oh this ‘girl I slept with’ or ‘this chick I was with’.” 
It was like a new kick in the chest hearing this new piece of information from Jungkook. David lied to everyone, it wasn’t just you. Some weird comfort in the fact that no one really knows him, not even people he hangs out with all the time. 
“I know now that was all bullshit, I hope you know.” He tries to reassure you. 
“Thanks.” You give him a half smile. “God, now I really feel like an asshole.” 
“Don’t, you didn’t know. None of us knew.” He waves you off, “Water under the bridge now.”
You sigh, “I hope so… Maybe we can start over. Now that you already know I’m kind of an asshole maybe we could actually be friends.” You sip on your drink. 
“Yeah… okay.” Jungkook nods with a small grin at the corner of his mouth. “That would really piss David off.” 
You give him a confused look, “Why would that piss him off?” 
Jungkook sits up crossing his arms, “He has a bit of a complex and I would bet if we were hanging out. His head just might explode.” 
“Oh I would pay to see that.” You laugh under your breath. “Plus being friends will probably make this project a whole lot easier.”
“Don’t speak too soon, we are starting the hardest part this week.” Jungkook groaned a little. 
“Don’t remind me,” You glanced over to you piled homework at the end of your bed, “Speaking of, I should get back to my stuff now. This was nice though, actually… talking.” 
“Yeah, it was.” Jungkook stood as well, he patted his pants checking he had everything he needed. 
You shuffled around in your bag from the convenience store and pulled out a bag of chips and handed them to Jungkook. 
“For helping me, it’s not much but it’s a start.” 
“Anytime. Text me if you need help with the project.” Jungkook accepted your offer. It was a nice first step to actually being friends. Plus your new found bond of hating the same guy also helps. 
With that Jungkook left. You got yourself up off the floor and back onto your bed. Picking up your phone to actually check what time it was but seeing you had missed a handful of texts. Not surprising at all. 
David: come back.
David: pls
David: you expect me to believe you aren’t fucking that guy?
David: hope you have fun.
David: i bet he won’t even be able to get it up for you. 
David: pls answer me.
David: can’t believe you would do this
Wow. Jungkook was right about that complex thing. Except you didn’t need him bothering you anymore. So you finally got up the courage to block his number. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・
Present Day
Jungkook had been back at work for a few days, but something was off. He moved through tasks like a machine—efficient, precise, but utterly lifeless. To most people, it wouldn’t seem like anything was wrong. His work was spotless, his demeanor polite, but to those who really knew him, it was clear something wasn’t right.
Jimin, for one, had definitely noticed. Jungkook was usually social, always cracking jokes or giving over-detailed play-by-plays of his workout routines. This week, though? Radio silence. It was like his body was here, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. Jimin had informed Taehyung of the weird change in Jungkook’s behavior and Taehyung encouraged Jimin to put some pressure on.
Curious—and more than a little nosy—Jimin sauntered over to Jungkook’s desk, a file in hand. Jungkook was hunched over his computer, eyes glued to the screen, typing furiously.
“Hey, I need the paperwork for the Johnson case,” Jimin said, leaning against the edge of the desk.
“Uh-huh. I’ll get that right away,” Jungkook replied without looking up, his tone flat and mechanical.
Jimin narrowed his eyes. Yep, Jungkook wasn’t listening.
“Oh, and you’re in charge of picking up two-thousand cupcakes for the office party in two hours,” Jimin added casually, watching for a reaction.
“Okay,” Jungkook said, still typing.
Jimin smirked, crossing his arms. “Cool. While you’re at it, I’ll invite Y/N to the office. Maybe she can snap you out of whatever funk this is.”
The reaction was immediate. Jungkook froze, his fingers hovering above the keyboard, his foot—previously tapping incessantly—stopping mid-bounce. Slowly, he turned to Jimin, his wide-eyed expression betraying a mix of panic and guilt.
“Y/N is coming here?” His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat, trying to recover. “Why would you do that? Wh—Why would you invite Y/N here?”
Jimin raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the overreaction. “Relax, I was joking. She’s not coming.”
“Oh,” Jungkook muttered, turning back to his computer a little too quickly. “Right. Joking. Cool.”
Jimin didn’t let it go. He leaned in closer, scrutinizing Jungkook like he was a puzzle to solve. “Why the sudden jumpiness at the mention of Y/N? You were so calm and collected about them last week.”
“I’m not jumpy,” Jungkook said immediately, his tone defensive. “I just… thought it was weird. That’s all.”
“Uh-huh.” Jimin wasn’t buying it. He knew Jungkook too well. “Okay, spill. What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all week—more robotic than usual. Did something happen?”
“No,” Jungkook said, a little too quickly.
Jimin crossed his arms. “Lying isn’t your strong suit, Jungkook.”
“I’m not lying,” Jungkook insisted, avoiding eye contact.
Jimin smirked knowingly. “Uh-huh. Because you have been walking around here like you’ve seen a ghost or something the last few days.”
Jungkook groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. Haven’t slept super well. Can we not do this right now?”
“Fine,” Jimin said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “But whatever’s eating you, you should probably deal with it before the trial tomorrow. Can’t have our golden boy flubbing his arguments because his brain’s stuck on something else.”
Jungkook glared at him but didn’t respond, turning back to his computer.
As Jimin walked away, he couldn’t help but grin. Something had definitely happened, and now he just had to figure out what.
Jungkook sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. His thoughts were a tangled mess, and no amount of work could drown them out. This whole situation with you had him rattled in a way he couldn’t explain.
Normally, this would’ve been easy to brush off. It wasn’t guilt because there was nothing to feel guilty about. And it wasn’t shame either—no one knew what had happened between you two, and even if they did, he wasn’t the type to care about whispers.
So why couldn’t he shake this feeling? He leaned back, staring at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there. He could only imagine a huge reason is this is really the only time he has slept with someone outside of being in a relationship with them. It was strange for sure, especially because it’s not just that it’s someone random…
It was you.
Jungkook can only assume he feels so out of sorts because of those two factors. He also has no intention of getting into a relationship with you. So you were right, although he would never admit it to you, this should never happen again. It was completely throwing Jungkook off, and he can conclude Taehyung’s stupid theory is wrong. Plus it was not helping your relationship, you two were still acting exactly the same as before… plus sex. 
“What are you even doing?” Jungkook muttered as he leaned back in his desk chair. 
His phone buzzed on the desk, the vibration breaking through the noise in his head. He glanced at the screen, his shoulders relaxing slightly when he saw Namjoon’s name.
Namjooooooon: Hey mel and I are planning to get everyone together Saturday. You in?
Namjooooooon: ps y/n will probably be there. Melanie misses them too much to not invite them… 
Jungkook paused thinking if it would be a good idea. You two hadn’t parted exactly well but not as explosively as other times. He could keep himself in check for sure. He just wasn’t too sure if all this time he was sending around you was withering him away or not. 
Jk: I’ll be there.
With that he placed his phone back on the table, forcing himself to dive back into his work. He had a long day and an even longer few weeks ahead of him and he needed to stay focussed. He needed to put a pin in whatever this feeling is and deal with it maybe another time. 
On the other hand, you had done a great job at not having any feelings at all.
You had managed to push everything from the weekend out of your mind—or at least, you told yourself you had. You threw yourself into work with the kind of laser focus that made your coworkers pause. It was probably the most productive you’d been in weeks. Charts updated. Paperwork completed. Patients checked. You almost didn’t feel like yourself, but that was the point, wasn’t it?
Unfortunately, in your single-minded determination to stay busy, you’d also been unintentionally dodging Vic. She’d tried to grab you a few times, but somehow, you always managed to slip away with the excuse of an urgent task. You told yourself it was for the best. If anyone was going to see the guilt of the weekend written all over your face, it was her.
Still, as well as you were doing at shoving your questionable life choices into a mental box labeled “Ignore Forever”, your thoughts betrayed you sometimes. The absurdity of it all would creep in at random moments. Like now, as you absentmindedly flipped through patient charts at the nurses’ station. You couldn’t help but think about a time when the idea of even entertaining the thought of Jungkook would’ve sent you to the ER, convinced you were having a mental breakdown.
Maybe you really did need professional help.
As if on cue, Yoongi plopped down at the station, clearly in no mood for nonsense as he typed furiously at the computer. Perfect. A distraction. You slid your chair closer, the sound of the wheels catching his attention.
“Yoongi,” you whined, leaning dramatically into his personal space.
He didn’t even look at you, just sighed as though bracing for whatever chaos you were about to bring. “What can I do for you Y/N?”
“What are all the symptoms of a brain tumor?” you asked, propping your chin on your hands.
Yoongi froze for half a second, then slowly turned his head to look at you. “Why? Do you think one of the patients is exhibiting some strange behavior?” His voice was flat, but the shift in his tone betrayed his concern.
“Nope,” you said breezily. “I’m asking for me.”
One eyebrow shot up, but he still didn’t miss a beat on his keyboard. “Well, I’m pretty sure you don’t have a brain tumor.” He finally finished typing and swiveled his chair to face you fully. “But just to be safe, you can always page one of the neuro dude bros. That’s their thing, not mine.” 
Yoongi knew that most of the nurses, including yourself, had a major distaste for the neuro residents. The guys in particular were acting like it was a frat. It was his way of teasing.
“Ugh, I hate all the neuro residents,” you groaned, flopping back in your chair. “You, however, are conveniently here and a very qualified doctor.”
He smiled faintly, clearly unimpressed. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
You gasped, clutching your chest in fake betrayal. “Come on, one little head CT. I’ll even write you a glowing review on RateMDs.”
“Sure,” he deadpanned, standing and ruffling your hair as he moved to leave. “Let’s just order an expensive, unnecessary scan for fun. I’m sure Dr. Kim will love that.”
You trotted after him as he headed for the elevator. “Hear me out. What if I do have a brain tumor? We could be solving a medical mystery together. Dr. Kim would forgive us in a heartbeat!”
He snorted as the elevator doors opened. “Goodbye, Y/N.”
“This isn’t over!” You called as the doors closed on his smirk. Defeated, you trudged back to the nurses’ station and sank into your chair, picking up where you left off with your paperwork. You were so close to the finish line, so close to clocking out, when Vic’s voice cut through the hum of the station like a scalpel.
“Are you avoiding me?”
You froze, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Slowly, you turned in your chair to face her. Vic was leaning casually against the half-wall of the nurses’ station, arms crossed, her expression far too knowing for your comfort.
“What? No!” you said quickly, too quickly. “I’ve just been… busy.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she pushed off the wall and grabbed the chair next to you, plopping down with an audible sigh. “You’ve been a blur all week,” she said, propping her chin on her hand. “Every time I see you, it’s like you’re ducking behind walls or conveniently getting pulled into a room. I haven’t even had a chance to properly harass you.”
“Well, you’ve got me now.” You said with a nervous laugh that sounded more like a squeak.
Vic tilted her head, studying you with the precision of a predator sizing up its prey. “I do. So, why do you look like you’ve committed a crime?”
“No crime. Same old me. Nothing new.” You shake your head maybe a little too vigorously for convincing, but Vic decides its been a long day so maybe you were just being weird. 
Vic stared at you for a beat longer, clearly unconvinced. But to your relief, she shrugged it off, picking up a tablet and tapping her stylus against the screen. “Alright, fine. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t scare you away or something. I desperately need you to stay up here as long ass they’ll let me have you, after all”
You exhaled slowly, grateful she wasn’t pressing further—for now.
The two of you sat in companionable silence for a while, the sounds of the nurses’ station filling the air: keyboard clicks, faint beeps from patient monitors, and the occasional chatter in the background. Except your mind was far from settled. The thing was, you couldn’t talk about this situation with Ash or Melanie. Ash had never kept a secret in her life, and Melanie? She’d tell Namjoon in a heartbeat. And once Namjoon knew, it’d be over for you.
Vic was your best bet. Sure, she’d laugh at you, but you could handle that. You’d endured worse. And keeping it bottled up was slowly driving you insane.
Finally, you rolled your chair back and turned toward her. She was immersed in her tablet, oblivious to your inner turmoil.
“Okay, there’s one thing,” you said hesitantly, gripping onto the edge of your seat harder than you had realized.
Vic’s head popped up, her brows arching. “What’s up?”
You hesitated, twisting your fingers together nervously. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? Promise.”
She rolled her eyes, setting the tablet on her lap. “Who am I going to tell? Mr. Jones in 342? He’s not exactly a vault of secrets.”
“He’s a blabbermouth,” you deadpanned, earning a chuckle from her. Mr. Jones was in a coma. He wasn’t on this floor but everyone knew about him since he had been here a few years. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “Okay. So, uh… it happened again.”
Vic’s brow furrowed in confusion, her head tilting slightly. “What happened again?”
“Me and…” You lowered your voice to a whisper, glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot. “You know who.”
Vic stared at you, blinking once. Then twice. You could see the gears turning as she connected the dots. And then her jaw dropped. “You what? Say it again, because I need to make sure I’m not hallucinating.”
“Jungkook and I…” You swallowed hard. “…again.”
For a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence. And then she erupted into laughter—loud, unabashed laughter that had several people glancing your way.
Vic tried to stifle her laughter, but it bubbled out anyway, her shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry, but this is gold. What happened to ‘it didn’t fix anything, and you still hate him’? Is he just that good?” she teased, her grin positively wicked.
“Vic!” you whined, swatting at her arm, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed your embarrassment.
“Okay, okay,” she said, raising her hands in surrender, though the smirk on her face didn’t budge. “But seriously, what are you going to do now?”
You let out a long, drawn-out sigh, slumping back into your chair like the weight of the world was pressing down on you. “Avoid him. Forever, if I can manage it.”
Vic tilted her head, her expression skeptical. “Yeah, because that worked so well the first time.” She shook her head, laughing softly as she turned back to her tablet. “You’re a mess. But I love you for it.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms defensively. “I am not a mess. I’d like to think I’m actually very well composed.”
Vic snorted, her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh. “Right, right. Say that again when you’re not—”
“Victoria.” You interrupted sharply, cutting her off with a pointed look.
“Damn, alright. No need to use my full name like I’m in trouble. Anyway... how did it happen?” Her teasing tone softened slightly as she leaned forward, genuinely curious now. “Walk me through it. Start to... unfortunate finish.”
You groaned again, rubbing your temples. “Do we have to?”
“Oh, absolutely. This is the best thing that’s happened all week.” She said, propping her chin on her hand as if settling in for storytime.
With another sigh, you gave in, recounting the night in as much detail as you could bear—the tizzy outside, then the bathroom and then how you two made it to the unthinkable end. Your shift had ended in the time it took you to explain everything and Vic had followed you to the locker room while you got your stuff. 
Unthinkable maybe a few months ago. 
“I’m jealous. I wish I had something this entertaining happening in my life. The most interesting gossip I have is about Dr. Kim’s surgery this morning.” She leaned against a locker next to you as you had gotten your stuff. 
“Be glad because it’s a pain in reality.” You sigh, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Now I need to go home and wash this extremely long day off of me.” 
“Well don’t stumble into Jungkook's bed on your way there.” 
Just before you leave the locker room, You turn back to her. “I hate you.” 
“Love you too baby. Get home safe.” She waves for you to get out of here. Escape while you still could. 
You exhaled deeply as you exited the locker room, the weight of the day pulling at your shoulders. Every muscle in your body ached, and the thought of a hot shower and your bed felt like a distant dream. As you reached the elevator, you spotted Ji-eun shuffling slowly down the hallway, her IV bag trailing behind her like a stubborn shadow.
“Goodnight, Ji-eun,” you called out, giving her a small wave as you pressed the elevator button.
“Leaving so early?” she teased, her voice light but tired as she made her way over to you. You could tell from her slower steps and the way she leaned slightly to one side that today hadn’t been a good day for her.
“Short shift today,” you replied with a warm smile, masking your concern. “You should be off that leg if it’s bothering you.”
“Never,” she quipped, standing up straighter and puffing out her chest in defiance. “Can’t you see? I’ve got all the energy in the world!”
You laughed, shaking your head. “All right. Come on, let me walk you back to your room.”
Ji-eun beamed, looping her arm through yours as if you’d just made her day. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”
“Someone has to keep you in check.” You teased, giving her a gentle nudge as the two of you started down the hallway.
“So,” She began, her tone shifting to one of playful curiosity. “You haven’t updated me on your annoying boy this week. Still giving you trouble?”
You groaned inwardly but couldn’t help smiling at her persistence. “Just a little, but nothing I can’t handle,” you said lightly, hoping to steer the conversation away.
“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” Ji-eun said, narrowing her eyes at you. “What happened this time?”
You hesitated but gave in under her expectant gaze. “I ran into him again. It... wasn’t great. We fought again.”
She gasped dramatically, clutching your arm like you’d just revealed a scandal. “How thrilling! And here I was thinking my life was dramatic with all these needles and IV bags.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “No more run-ins this week, though, so that’s a win.”
Ji-eun gave your arm a comforting squeeze. “Progress. Honestly, I wish my boys would talk about things like this. All they ever discuss these days is what’s happening at work.”
“Either of them coming by tonight?”
Ji-eun shakes her head, “No they both are so busy. My youngest especially these days. My husband will be here after too long though.”
“Good, and trust me, you’re not missing much. I would accept work gossip over boy drama any day.” You said, though your smile wavered slightly as the truth of your own words settled over you.
When you reached her room, you helped her ease into bed, adjusting her blankets and making sure she was comfortable. You still hadn’t gotten the chance to meet any of her family yet but her hospital room had been filling up more and more with things from home and things to keep her entertained. It was nice to see what she elected to have around her here. 
“You’re a saint,” Ji-eun murmured, her voice softer now, the day’s fatigue catching up to her.
“I’m just doing my job,” you replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “You need to take it easier since your treatments are going to just make everyday tasks even harder.”
“I’ll try. Goodnight, Y/N.” She points for you to leave dramatically and you comply.
“Goodnight,” Leaving with the weight of your shoulder now really barring down on you now. 
You got onto the elevator and heading down to the garage. Your phone buzzing in your pocket. 
MEL:  ME YOU ASH. SATURDAY NIGHT. IN OR OUT.
You laugh, thank god Melanie was back in town. You really needed a good night in with her and Ash so this text couldn’t come at a better time. 
:IM IN
MEL: AMAZING
MEL: small detail I may have let out 
MEL: It will also include the boys too..
MEL: BUT YOU ALREADY AGREED SO YOU CANT BACK OUT NOW
Which you knew meant Jungkook. Great. 
:that’s fine It'll be fun no matter what
You could very well keep it together. Just stay one arm attached to Melanie and nothing could go wrong. You missed her dearly and of course Namjoon. Although he probably didn’t miss the sleepovers you, Ash and Melanie would have where he ended up getting kicked out of his own bed. 
Which very well may happen again this weekend. 
You continued about your week normally and so did Jungkook. Jungkook’s week had been consumed by the trial, which included long days in court, late nights reviewing documents, and the constant hum of pressure to perform. Yet, despite the chaos, things were looking up. His team was solid, their arguments tight, and with the trial on recess until Monday, Jungkook felt unusually optimistic. Optimistic enough, in fact, to accept Taehyung’s invite for a drink—a rarity for him during trial season.
Both Jungkook and Taehyung tried to rope Namjoon into coming out as well, and Namjoon was almost convinced. Then about forty five minutes ago he was texting something about having to prepare the house for the invasion, cryptically. They both were completely unsure what that was supposed to mean. 
Taehyung was already waiting in a booth when Jungkook arrived, beer in hand and a mischievous grin ready to pounce. As Jungkook slid into the seat across from him, Taehyung gave an exaggerated round of applause. “Mr. Responsible Lawyer Boy, gracing me with his presence. This is truly an honor.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a smile as he set his whiskey down on the table. “Don’t get used to it. I’ve still got a mountain of paperwork waiting for me tomorrow.”
“Of course you do,” Taehyung said, raising his beer. “But look at you now—drink in hand, no case files in sight. Dare I say, you’re almost acting human.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” Jungkook replied, taking a sip of his whiskey. “I’ve still got a trial to win. But things are going well enough that I figured I could afford one night off. Or at least an hour.”
“Rare footage of Jungkook actually relaxing,” Taehyung said, pulling out his phone and pretending to film him. “Better capture this before you start muttering about depositions and cross-examinations again.”
Jungkook smirked, setting his glass down. “I’d be careful if I were you. That phone footage might mysteriously disappear.”
Taehyung chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “Alright, mystery man. So, what’s got you in such a good mood? Jimin’s been saying you’ve been acting... off this week.”
Jungkook sighed, he figured he would hear something about earlier this week. Jimin and Taehyung were already in Jungkook's business enough so any change in behavior does not escape them, “Of course he has. Between the wedding and this trial, I’ve had a lot on my plate. That’s all.”
“Sure, sure,” Taehyung said, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “You’ve barely had any time for me. Do you know how neglected I feel? My best friend, abandoning me in my time of need?”
Jungkook rolled his eyes again. “Poor you. You were one of the groomsmen if you remember. I saw you the entire time.”
“Poor me indeed! You were so busy trying to one up Y/N the whole time.” Taehyung exclaimed, throwing an arm over his eyes in mock despair. “I’ve had to survive on scraps of attention while you’ve been off doing... whatever it is you’ve been doing.”
“Work,” Jungkook said pointedly. “Once this trial is over, I’ll have plenty of time to make it up to you. My mind’s just been... all over the place lately.”
“Something bothering you?” Taehyung asked, leaning in a little too close for comfort. “Anything you want to share with the class?”
Jungkook pushed him back with a laugh. “No. Nothing in particular.”
“Hmm.” Taehyung took a long sip of his beer, clearly not convinced. Jungkook could sense now Taehyung was dancing around something. He had something he wanted to ask. “Jimin said you’ve been quieter than usual. That’s weird, even for you, especially this close to a trial. Thought there might be something on your mind.”
“If this trial goes well, it’s a huge opportunity for me. Potential promotion. That’s all.” Jungkook shrugs, playing it cool. Still unsure where Taehyung is taking this.
Taehyung nodded slowly, as if considering this. “Makes sense. But, you know, I thought I might’ve had an idea why you’ve been acting so strange...”
“Tae,” Jungkook said, narrowing his eyes. “What are you getting at?”
Taehyung grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Nothing, nothing. Forget I said anything.” He sat up straight, switching gears with a dramatic clap of his hands. “I do know how you can make it up to me for all the lost hang-out time, though.”
“Oh yeah?” Jungkook said, skeptical. “What’s that?”
“If you tell me what’s going on with you and Y/N.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・
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a/n: Maybe not the most exciting chapter but I have been very excited to show that college flashback. Although not the most important piece of their history - it is important none the less... because they were friends once?? hmmmmmm.
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the-froschamethyst4 · 3 days ago
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Golfing Lessons
𖤐Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader
𖤐Pronouns: She/Her
𖤐Warnings: smut, language, diva! reader, teasing, public sex, kissing/making out, fingering, hand job, P in V, groping, nipple play, natural masturbation,
𖤐Summary: You decided to join Price on the green today
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Price was looking at himself in the bathroom mirror making sure the collar of his shirt was looking neat. As he walks downstairs getting his golfing shoes on and making sure he had his golfing bag in the back of his car, the front door open, his back still turned but knew who it was.
"Love, I'm heading out for a few rounds of golf," he says, closing his trunk and then finally turning around to see his wife in a golfing outfit, a white polo like his, a white short skirt, her hair up in a ponytail and wearing some golfing shoes like Prices.
"Woah," he says. "Where you going?"
"Joining you," she says.
"Me?"
"Yeah," she opens the passenger door and gets in. "Unless you and your mistress are planning to do some...rounds together."
"Mistress? What mistress?" He asked, looking into the car from his rolled down window.
"So then you won't mind me joining."
"Of course not, love," he says, getting into the car. "Guess you're going to be renting clubs then?"
"Yeah, guess so...with your card," she shows off his card between her fingers.
"Oh great," he smirks and backs out of the driveway.
--------------
Getting to the golf course, Price signs in and Y/n went to the renting counter to rent some clubs, and rent a golf cart.
Price picked up the hobby of golfing after he retired from the military, he did started playing it with his friends Gaz, Soap and Roach and loved the idea of playing golf every Saturday and will be gone for most of the day, but why does Y/n want to join all of a sudden?
Y/n has her feet up on the seat as she was looking down at her book on her lap as Price drove the golf cart to the first hole, there wasn't many people out today which was weird, it was a nice day to be playing golf, but guess people had better plans.
Y/n had her face back down in the book while Price did his first swing, he turns back around and looks at his wife.
"Your turn, love," he says.
"That's great, I don't know how to swing the club," she says, still looking down.
"Love, you wanted to join, you rented the clubs, you get to swing and learn," he says, putting his club back in his bag and getting one from Y/n's rentals. "Come on," he says, she puts her bookmark in between the pages and got off the cart and stood next to her husband.
He held the club and motioned her to stand between his arms, his hands resting on hers.
"Now...3...2...1," they swing hitting the ball and it landing farther than Price's ball.
"Oh, do I win?" She asked.
"No, not yet, and you have to get the lowest score to win."
"Why the lowest?" She asked as they get back into the cart.
"I don't know, the lower the strokes just shows how good you are."
"Oh," she says, cocking up her eyebrows and looking at him.
"Hush," he says, pointing his finger at her almost like he was telling her to 'behave'. They got close to their balls and Price hit his again, getting it into the hole.
"Write par."
"Par?"
"2, write 2 for me. Come here, your turn." He says. She gets out of the cart and grabs her club and walking to her ball just tapping it in.
"2!" She says, excitedly.
Moving onto the next hole, Price and Y/n had to wait their turn, they got stuck behind two old men, Price leans on the wheel and Y/n still had her face down in her book.
Price leans over to see what she was reading.
"What's this one about?"
"Enemies to lovers, she hates him, he loves her, both actually hiding their feels for one another."
"Cheesy," he says.
"You asked."
"I know. Wish these two would hurry it up," he grumbles under his breath. She just shrugs and looks at her pages. Price's hand then went to her thigh, leaning back and wishing these guys would hurry the fuck up.
He looks down at his hand resting on her thigh and then slowly moved it up his pinkie and ring fingers were just slightly under her skirt, she didn't push his hand away but left it on her bare smooth skin.
He scoots a big closer to her, putting his arm around her waist and his hand now on her hip gently patting her and slowly moving his fingers back under her skirt and then feeling her wet clothed pussy.
"Price, now?" She looks up at him.
"If these twos don't hurry it up, I will turn this cart around and fuck you in the car or...I fuck you here, and let them hear your moans. I'm starting to like the idea of fucking you right here and right now." He says.
Y/n just looks up at him and smiles at him, she closed her book and placed it on the little cubby, and then she shimmies her pink panties off and pulled her skirt up exposing her now bare pussy. She then looks at the older men seeing them leave, Price was just looking down admiring her.
"They're gone," she tells him.
"Huh?" He looks up and grumbles that his plan was fumbled, he grabs a club, a tee and a ball and gets himself set up, lining his club at the ball and in one swing hitting it. He comes back into the cart and sits in the driver seat but Y/n had gotten out to do her swing. Grabbing a club, tee and ball and hits the ball with no problem.
As she swung, her skirt went up with the wind exposing a bit of her butt. He brings his hand to his face and drags it down, wanting her now.
As she gets back into the cart, smiling up at Price and shows off how wet she was now, rubbing her fingers between her wet folds exposing how much she was wet.
"Hurry it up, old man," she teased him. He just scoffs, stuck behind the same old men from before. Price doesn't say anything this time, instead he leans over Y/n cupping her face and starts heavily making out with Y/n not caring if people saw or if these sick old men did.
Price starts feeling Y/n thighs and then feeling her wet clit, she moans into the kiss and bucks her hips up, Price smirks and shoves his middle and ring finger inside of her with no warning.
She moans putting her head back and Price grabbed a handful of her hair putting her head back and smirking when she moans out his name, he released her hair and her hands went under his shirt feeling up his hairy chest and toned stomach and chest.
"You're gonna get us kicked out if you keep moaning like that, love," Price says with a smirk on his face.
"Yeah right," she says, kissing his lips.
Price then starts messing with his belt, unbuckling it and unbuttoning his pants, he gives himself a few pumps and then takes her hand and places it on his dick.
"Pump me, baby," he whispers close to her ear. She bites her bottom lip and does what he asked, giving him a few pumps as he watches to make sure no one will see them. His hands resting the cushion they sat on and the other on the windshield of the cart.
He looks down just for a moment seeing her thumb run over his tip, he groans, biting his bottom lip to hold back his moans, Y/n was then playing with the pre-cum that leaked from his tip.
"Hang on, love," he says, as he starts moving the cart. Y/n doesn't stop pumping though, moving her hand a bit faster, he moans and stops the cart. "Love," he says again.
"Should I stop?" She asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
"I want to keep going I do, but we need to stop so, we can finish our game."
"Fine then," giving him some good pumps and then releasing her hand from his dick. He fixes himself and goes to swing. He hated this, why couldn't they have waited till they got home?
"Love, come here." She was confused, but got out of the cart and walked to him.
"Yeah?"
"Grab your club and ball...and hit...in the woods," he points his club to the thick woods.
"Why would I do that?" She asked. Grabbing her club and ball.
"Because I can't keep doing this."
"Doing what?" She smiles.
"Love," his eye narrow as he looks at her.
"Okay," she says, putting her ball down, wiggling her butt a little and swung her club. "Oh no...my ball," she sounded annoyed with her fake acting. "John, I need to go get my ball," she says, walking to the woods.
"Let me come and help you, love," he says, coming behind her.
Y/n found her ball and showed Price. "Found it."
"Good," he pushed her against a nearby tree, picking her up making her drop her ball and club to the ground. He attacks her neck as she moans and smiles.
"AH! Price," she moans, her arms tightening around his neck, and her legs tightening around his waist. "Fuck," his hot breath tickled her skin.
"We'll make this quick," he says.
He unbuckles his pants and fishes out his cock again, a few pumps before entering Y/n, she put her head back hitting the tree, Price moved his hand from guiding himself inside of her to behind her head so she doesn't hit the tree again. He thrusts up into her.
"God you feel so good," he groans close to her ear. "God, you should come join me more often," he says with a cocky smirk on his face.
"No...y-you're boring," she says with a joking smile.
"Oh I'm boring?" He says. He kisses her lips again, he moves her from the tree to the ground now.
"Not the ground," she coos. He just smirks placing her on the ground, his hands holding her waist and she moans while holding up her polo and exposing her bra, she moves the straps off her shoulders and starts groping herself.
Price smiles loving as she groped herself and how her fingers pinched her sensitive nipples. Price leaned forward taking her left nipple in his mouth sucking and biting her nub.
She moans. "F-Fuck," she cursed.
"Oh, I'm so close, baby," he says. She moans when feeling his thrusts start to get sloppy.
"P-Price," she moans. Y/n tightening around his dick, he gives a few more sloppy thrusts and ended up coming inside of her. He pulls out as cum leaked on the ground.
They both got themselves situated Price making sure Y/n looked how she looked before, and they same with Y/n helping Price, they acted like they "found" Y/n's ball and went back to their cart.
"Shall we end the game?" Price asked.
"No way...I'm having too much fun," she says putting her panties back on.
-------------
Price and Y/n had gave everything they rented back to the golf course, Price and Y/n got into Price's car. Y/n looks over at Price who started his car and started back out of his spot.
"So am I allowed to come join you now?" She asked.
"If you do the same shit you just did today then anytime, love," he smirks grabbing her chin and kissed her lips.
"Then next Saturday?"
"Of course, my love."
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Next Saturday
Price had Y/n in the cart, she was on her stomach, ass poking out of the cart, her skirt lifted up exposing her nice round ass, panties pulled to the side, and Price was using her as he pleased, this time Y/n wasn't playing but instead keeping Price company.
Roach, Gaz and Soap had plans today, so he asked her to come with. She was just sitting in the cart with her book open reading it quietly as Price was swinging his clubs, but Price got hard while watching her read, which was weird, he's seen her read before and never got turned on before, so this was new. He stopped playing just to have her bend over in the cart and please him.
"Fuck me, baby," Price says.
"Faster," she moans out.
"How the fuck are we even still in here?" Price mumbled to himself.
Price soon came inside of Y/n pulling out and watched cum leak from her, he smirks when moving her panties back over, and put her skirt back down.
"Keep reading, love," he says, tapping her ass.
She just smiles at him and grabs her book off the cart floor and picks up where she left off like nothing had happen.
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amermaidsecretdiary · 1 day ago
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I'M QUITTING + MY VOID STATE SUCCESS STORY
Hello guys, it's been a long time since i have posted something or in general be active here which was mostly because of personal reasons (just focusing on myself), although one of them had to do with our community.
I personally joined loatumblr at the middle of 2022 (from a previous anonymous account i had) but i started posting much later. Back then, the community was at it's peak ngl. The bloggers and the way they explained stuff was honestly, at least for me, so helpful and enjoyable. After the end of 2023 - beginning of 2024 this community started dying. I really didn't like this since I loved scrolling through specific blogs and reading their posts. I tried to post some stuff to give a little bit of life in there and i guess it did help a little.
Quick note; Please don't get me wrong, i'm not saying that the current posts and blogs running right now suck.. what i'm saying is that this community used to be way more alive back then.
One of the reasons why this happened is because people applied and got what they wanted. So they logged off tumblr. When I realised that, I decided to seriously focus on loa and start applying myself. And i ended up manifesting some good stuff, and I was good with it. Although, after some time, i decided that i wanted to manifest a completely new life from scratch, which it was what i wanted to do from the first time i joined tumblr but i ditched that thought and ended up changing some stuff about my current life.
My goal back then was to enter the void state (which im pretty sure it was 95% of the people in here goal too), but i didn't understand it properly so i couldn't 'enter'. I ended up ditching it and manifested without it. But after some point, i did my research and fully understood the void state or better, pure consciousness. If you go through my blog, you won't see much stuff about pure consciousness because i choose to not talk about it in here. The way it is treated it loatumblr just pisses me off. If you post a void success story, people will immediately run to you and ask you basic stuff like 'how did u do it?' when all the information needed about it is already posted. People tend to see it as something 'huge' and believe they can't succeed in it which is bs. If you do a little bit of research on pure consciousness you will understand how simple it is. Although, even if the 'void state' is seem like something that people overcomplete this doesn't mean that you can not use it. What i'm saying is that there are some people who really dislike the concept of it and will recommend u not to try it. Look, everyone has their different opinions and beliefs but if you want to manifest your dream life in the void state, go ahead. After all, it found you for a reason.
So coming back to my experience, since it was always my 'dream' to manifest my dream life in the void state, i decided to do it now. I'm pretty good at lucid dreaming (i've been lucid dreaming 3 years now) i decided to tap into my pure consciousness during a lucid dream. So i did my usual routine, had a lucid dream in which i closed my eyes and found myself floating in a void. I affirmed that i have lucid dreams everynight and then i got out. I did this 4 days ago, and i have had around 3-4 lucid dreams every single night, without doing any practise at all. Also, i have been scripting my entire dream life and i'm preparing myself to finally experience it. I have decided to make a looottt of big changes but two of them are the 'biggest' for me; numb.1 i will manifest that i will completely forget about my current life (i will also not remember anything about the law, for personal reasons) and numb.2 i will go back in time around 30 years ago (again for personal reasons). I mentioned this to make it clear to you that i won't be able to post my 'success story' after manifesting it, since i will not remember anything about me manifesting stuff and also even if i did, i wouldn't be able to post it since i will not have access to tumblr or current technology in general. So my success story is this one. This days, when i find the right time for me, i will have a lucid dream as usual and tap into my pure consciousness again which from there, i will finally manifest the life of my dreams. So that's my final post you will see from me. I hope you all never give up and get what you want because trust me it's worth it and all this found u for a reason. If you really want it and you stay consistent, then it's all yours. My words can not describe the way i feel right now, knowing that i have my dream life right in front of me and i can just grab it and give it to myself anytime, after this big journey. Goodbye everyone :)
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nrhshm · 21 hours ago
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Hello there! If you don't mind, could you please do Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and Shanks (seperate) reacting to seeing their stoic fem!(s/o) smiling brightly for the first time? Thank you so much if you decide to do this!!
- [💚anon]
Heads up! let's do this ~~ I'll do each two seperately.
Ps. I might've slightly diverted from the original prompt...
This is pt 1:
Luffy and Zoro reacting to y/n, smiling brightly for the first time.
. Reader is gn
. Sfw
. Spoiler free
. Genre: fluff, a bit of gore on zoro's part
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Luffy:
Amidst the battle, you trod with a heavy breath across the massive wreck of houses. You've been a hurting witness, seeing that one fishman destroy your hometown without a single shred of mercy. Instead, an evil sickening smirk of ridicule was all he left lingering in your thoughts.
"Y/n L/n" of the strawhats, you were known for your strict loyalty to your captain: the wanted pirate "Monkey D. Luffy". Your train of thoughts drift back to that time he decided you'd join his crew, you were so nonchalant about it! In fact, you barely had anything to do with him IF he didn't passively force you with the biggest smile ever.
"Join my crew!"
"No"
"Why?"
"Because we met five seconds... ago..." You deadpan.
"But you're my friend."
"I-... We've met FIVE SECONDS AGO!!!" You repeat furiously.
"Besides, I know a pirate when I see one, and I'm not planning to involve myself in any shady business you've got."
Luffy's big round eyes stare right dead center into yours, 1 minute, 5 minutes and no response.
"So?" He suddenly blurts out.
"So??"
He takes his hand in yours.
"I like you. Isn't that enough?" He says in with a sneezy smile.
.
.
The flashback cuts off as soon as you catch a glimpse of red and yellow drifting across your peripheral vision. Witnessing Luffy's figure marching up to the edge of the cliff. Bloody and torn to shreds he still insists walking up to your line of vision. He wants you to see the geniune seriousness in his request, the sheer determination that he won't back down till he gets what he wants.
"Y/N!!!" He screams at the upmost top of his vocal cords. You freeze. Eyes fixated on the future pirate king. He stands in all his might and glory.
Luffy's intense glare suddenly melts into the most sincere smile.
"Join my crew."
At this point you couldn't hold it back, the immense relief and the overwhelming goosebumps coursing your veins. You didn't even realise how big you were smiling, till you felt the pinching strain at your cheek, and Luffy's bursting victorious grin.
The future pirate king, jumps from the high roof of the building, landing right infront of your figure.
You regain your composure, wiping your tears away, your expression now turns serious.
.
.
"Yes!"
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Zoro:
There it is again. That mesh of mint and green making it's way towards you.
Upon his sight, your hand sneaks around the low cupboards, pulling out a strange teabag. You tighten your hold on the item in an attempt to hide it.
The swordsman lazily seats himself in front of you, signalling his 2 sake bottles and a shot of "the strongest thing you have", as he addresses it.
As a bartender, your acting skills were superlative, essential in situations where drunk bandits try to stir up trouble. You have handled your job effectively for over 5 years, which led to you falling under the eyes of the legendary pirate hero of your town: Doflamingo.
This mission was different from its past predecessors. You were set as a spy back then, setting people in a hopeless stupor to leak out any important information, delivering it back to your -now- master.
This time, you are ordered to kidnap a pirate.
Your hands were shaking again, you were morally doubtful if this was your last day alive. Yet the said man didn't bother to comment anything, as you poured in the mysterious black powder into the mix.
"Here you go sir." You hand him his wine bottles and shot in a false smile, your own heart screaming guilt and reconsideration, but fearing your master pushed all of it away. You are bound to him, a slave imprisoned to do his bidding. You have no way out.
You snap out of your thoughts as he gulps down the whole thing in seconds. And with a loud thud, the green haired swordsman falls into deep sleep.
....
When he does wake up, you stand next to him, sharpening your knife, a couple of guards around you. You looked at the said man with a sneer, which somewhat to Zoro, seemed fake.
He'd already had his concerns about you the moment he had sat at your bar, strangely, in which Zoro usually doesn't pay attention to.
"Here's the Pirate Hunter, as you ordered." You outstretch your hand at the swordsman, showcasing your capture. "Now.."
"Let go of my family."
Zoro's eye widens. Now, it all made sense. He felt that immediate deja vu with a distant memory, where Nami had done the same thing.
Nothing about this is acceptable to him, as Zoro wouldn't allow himself to get captured out of sympathy, but something in his gut feeling kept nudging, insisting to solving this issue.
The mafia boss, turns around, a sign of disinterest is quite evident.
"Really now??" He sneers in disdain. "When did I make such a deal with you?!"
Hearing his sick laugh, your lungs begin to malfunction. Short breaths and wide pupils, the world around you greys out.
"Y-Y- You said... you'd-"
"Kabaji! Did you ever hear me say that?." He points out mockingly, his said assistant laughing in amusement. You barely even notice your knife hitting the rough floor.
"No sir. This woman is spouting nonsense."
You've never felt so helpless. A bartender woman, weak and fragile, with a dull present and an even duller future. The only source of hope and persistence was finding your kidnapped family and escaping this goddamned town.
"LIAR!!" You scream in fury. "YOU PROMISED ME MY FAMILY!!" Heaving cold breaths and bearing your rapid painful heartbeats, your entrapped feelings finally explode.
"You call yourself a leader when your words are nothing but shallow lies!!! And your actions are a testament to your incompetence!" At this point, the whole place was in absolute silence.
It's almost as if you hit a thin nerve in this man, as he immediately shouts for your head to be cut off. Men rush towards you with their glistening swords, and you instantly know: this is it. It's over for you.
Closing your eyes, you anticipate the harsh pain that'll penetrate your neck , but all that was heard were the clash of swords, screams of agony, and the quivering words of men begging for mercy.
Most importantly, you felt a sticky substance on your forearms. The warm texture trailing down to your apron.
You finally look up, and you're mortified by the sight of the bloodshed and corpses. The once powerful mafia leader and his cronies reduced to these headless cadavers.
Most importantly, Zoro stood amidst everything, a bloody sword in hand, and the look of a bloodthirsty berserker.
He turns back to you, and look of sympathy becomes evident. "Are you hurt?"
"No." You immediately answer. You try to cover your trembling hands, but they don't go unnoticed.
"Are they on the island?"
You pause, not fully understanding his inquiry.
"Your family, I mean." He elaborates. You flinch at that.
"I believe so... the mafia headquarters aren't far from here."
"There's no time to waste then." He sheaths his swords, walking past your shaken figure.
"Wait!" You grab his wrist. "Are you seriously helping me, after all that I've done to you?" The last few words coming out as a whisper.
Zoro stands still, his expression becomes unreadable. The weight of silence gets bigger by the passing second.
"I'm just doing what my captain would have done." He states with a confident smirk.
His answer takes you aback. And you find yourself smiling tearfully...
'Maybe, not all hope is gone... I can still do this.'
"Let's go." You nod, a newfound determination surging through your body, you begin feeling estatic about finding your beloved people.
With all that in mind, you fail to notice zoro's unusual look of admiration, as a genuine smile slowly traces his lips.
'Ba-dum!'
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niqhtlord01 · 3 days ago
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Humans are weird: A Human’s Oath
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
The Praxis Prefecture was one of the few galactic powers that held on to the notion of kings and queens even as they reached the star faring age of their people. Praxians were largely bipedal species much similar to humans save for their skin being varying shades of crimson and their eyes cold black.
Every few years they would hold a series of games meant to entertain the masses of their realm and dissuade them from thinking about their diminishing lifestyle. At the end of these games was the creme de la crème event known simply as “The Gauntlet” which was the main focus for all who attended.
Comprised of a series of brutal and harrowing challenges, with some even resulting in death should one fail, the reward for passing through “The Gauntlet” and reaching the end alive was the most special prize one could ever dream of; a royal wish granted by the reigning family themselves. A winner could ask for anything should it be within their power, not go against the laws of their realm; nor impact the royal family themselves. That last one was instituted after several winners tried to directly marry into the royal family as their prize.
It had been several long years since “The Gauntlet” had produced a victor and many this year were expecting the same. The bodies quickly began mounting as contestant after contestant failed and died during the trials which only further scared away the previous applicants until only one remained; a lone alien hailing from a species that identified themselves as “Human”.
This seeming paragon proceeded to survive challenge after challenge with nary a scratch on them as they edged ever closer to the end of the deadly encounters. When the final Gorgonuk lay dead, its head caved in from repeated blows from a common rock, the human stood victorious to the cheering throngs who had watched their journey.
A hush fell over the crowd as the royal family descended to the human atop their floating platform and congratulated their victory.
“Name your wish.” The elderly king said.
Without hesitation the human replied “I wish for a place in your honor guard.”
The crowd was silent; perplexed by the insanity of the human’s wish. They could have asked for a fortune so vast it would take three dozen generations to spend, or be given an entire world to rule as a king in their own right, even should they have a darkened heart ask for every first born to swear loyalty to themselves; yet they had instead asked to join the royal family’s personal guard.
No human had ever joined the honor guard as it had been an institutional rule that only Praxians could join. However, this rule was not an official law and as such did not violate the rules of agreement for the wish granting.
“Very well,” the king spoke, “kneel.”
The human dropped to one knee as the king withdrew a slender sword from his cane.
“By the decree of flesh and blood,” the king began as he stabbed the right shoulder of the human and withdrew it dripping with blood, “do I bind you to my family’s service, until the end of time itself. Arise now, and take your rightful place.” The human rose to their feet, blood running from their shoulder wound and gathering as a small puddle at their feet, and nodded thanks to the king as the crowd cheered once more.
The oath had been made and accepted.
 With that climactic ending the games were finished and the realm returned to their day to day lively hoods. The human was inducted into the ranks of the honor guard as was promised and immediately began training.
It was a grueling affair made worse by the general disdain the present honor guard held towards the human. Many had spent their entire lives in service to the royal family and had descended from long family lines whose loyalty had stretched back to the founding of their galactic realm. Yet now here stood a common cur in their eyes, who won their place by sheer luck.
Days of training became weeks, weeks became months, and then finally months became years until finally the human was deemed ready and was given a suit of royal power armor.  Armed with the latest weaponry, armor, and generator systems; the royal power armor turned any individual into a walking tank capable of leveling entire armies by themselves.
Though the human was jubilant at finally donning the armor, times outside the palace were far from pleasant.
The wealth and prosperity of the kingdom had fluctuated greatly and the common citizen now openly questioned the wisdom of their rulers. Some even dared to openly ask if they needed a royal family and if they could not govern themselves better.
Idle tavern talk grew to marches in the streets until one day an angry mob that stretched out to the horizon stood in front of the royal palace and demanded the end of the royal family.
What was worse was that at the head of this violent host stood several royal guards clad in their armor who had defected to the mob’s side. Within the palace the royal family feared for their safety and wept at the notion that this would be the end of their legacy. To their surprise the lone human who had won his place in their guard stepped forward and proclaimed that they alone would handle the crisis and that they had nothing to fear.
Striding outside the palace alone, the human came before the masses and demanded to speak with their former comrades. The gathering slowly parted as the traitor guards stepped forward and faced off with the human.
There were five in total, led by none other than the former leader of the royal guard Dem’va’rok.
“Stand aside human.” Dem proclaimed; their voice booming from the speakers built into their armor. “Your blood is not what we seek this day.”
The human said nothing as they slowly looked across the helms of their once allies.
“Does he speak for you all?” the human asked softly. “You would forsake your oaths of duty to your king?”
One by one the traitors nodded and Dem grinned.
“What is duty compared to needs of our people?” Dem asked.
The human’s hands tightened around their weapons.
“A question you will take to your grave.”
With a swift motion the human lashed out and removed the heads of four of the traitors leaving Dem alone. The clattering of helmets filled with severed heads echoed across the crowd as they watched the purple blood flow from the open neck wounds; the bodies collapsing like puppets whose strings had finally been cut.
Several onlookers from the crowd screamed out in horror and recoiled from the violence. From there it set off a wave of panic that flashed across the mob like wildfire until all of them were scattering across the hills. Dem could hear their screams as they fled in panic, yet his eyes lay focused on the human who stood before him.
Unlike his alien compatriots who had grown lax and slothful with their duties, the human had spent every day training hard to prove their worth and their right to stand amongst them. What had once been a glorious order of wardens and guards of the royal family had become decadent and a mockery of what it had once been.
Dem drew his own sword and prepared to face the human but was surprised when they instead drove their sword into the ground.
“I won’t need that for what comes next.” -----------------------------------
An hour later the lone human returned to the throne room followed by four leaders of the mob.
The royal family watched in horror as each of them carried a severed head of a traitor royal guard with the human carrying the bloody remains of Dem’va’rok’s head. Their gantlets were stained with still fresh blood from where the human had used their bare hands to pull the former master’s head from their body.
“My lord,” the human spoke as they bowed and presented the head of Dem’va’rok “, the fools who cast aside your generosity have been dealt with and shall trouble you no more.”
They motioned to the cowering leaders behind them. “These are some of your subjects that wish to present their grievances to you and seek your wisdom in their resolution.”
Fear compelled all of the former ring leaders to nod their heads rapidly as they held back tears of fear.
“Do not be afraid.” The human counseled them, “For our king is as wise as he is compassionate. He will hear the words of his loyal subjects, but I will suffer none of those who have betrayed such kindness.”
With that the human stepped away and the ring leaders spoke their grievances and to their surprise the king listened to them and did not have them slain on the spot. What had been the day to end a kingdom became the day of a kingdoms evolution into something new.
Not all of the demands were met, but not all were dismissed so easily. New governing bodies were formed under the king to assist the well-being of his citizens while the king remained in complete control. As a result the overall situation of the realm began to slowly lighten and improve as years went by until the loyalty to the royal family was once more shared in every dwelling.
Yet none could say if it was from true love of the king, or from the fear the piercing gaze of the new leader of the honor guard instilled upon all that looked upon them.
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banditthewriter · 3 days ago
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Home - A Halsin drabble
I said I would and I did! A short 800+ words with our favorite druid! I wrote this in about 20 minutes. It is also the first thing I've written in over a year.
I know this isn't what most people follow me for but hey. We all change sometimes!
Enjoy!
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***
Light pierced through the back of your eyelids. A groan came from your throat as pain started to throb between your temples. Your last memories were beyond recall as you tried to remember where you were. What battle had you been fighting, what enemy had you fallen to? Was the light you saw a fireball coming your way?
“Oak Father preserve me,” came a guttural groan from beside you.
Halsin. Your eyes shot open despite the pain. Fear coursed through you as you imagined that not only you had fallen during this battle, but Halsin as well.
What you saw was a different kind of battlefield all together. You were pressed up against Halsin in the overstuffed, oversized mattress that took up most of the small cabin the two of you shared in what was once the Shadowcursed Lands. Shadowed no more, the sun often shone happily down on the land these days, but not often did it shine directly into your home.
You peered over Halsin’s large frame towards the front door. Two small children stood side by side, their faces dark as the sun poured in behind them, but you knew them well. Their forms seemed to shimmer and join as  you watched them.
“Thaniel, Oliver. Is something wrong?”
“The land missed you while you were gone, but you came back.”
They spoke in tandem, which still freaked you out a bit, but you couldn’t help a bit of a smile as you snuggled in closer to Halsin.
“Of course we did. This is our home.”
They boys giggled and turned as one to leave, but they did not shut the door. The idea of getting up to do that yourself was beyond comprehension so you conjured just a little magic to shut the door behind them.
Blissfully dark in the cabin once more, you sighed and moved to snuggle your druid again. As you did, you noticed his eyes on you, the smallest smile on his lips.
“Gone for mere hours to see our friends at the old camp and we were missed. It brings pleasure to my heart to hear it.”
That was the reason for the extreme headache, you thought with a laugh. Last night was the reunion with your other traveling companions. There had been many bottles of wine while the group regaled each other with stories of the last six months and revisited some tales from your time together. You vaguely remembered challenging the others to a drinking game which would explain the constant thunder in your head.
“Perhaps our next reunion should include less alcohol. My head feels like there is an owlbear in it.”
You laughed at his description, which was immediately followed by a snort as you remembered there was now an owlbear somewhere here with you. Hopefully it remembered the rule of not eating anyone.
“Problems for the future. For now I just want this,” you explained as you snuggled closer to Halsin, your lips pressing against his bare shoulder.
As your eyes started to drift close, Halsin tugged you until you were basically on top of him. It wasn’t a sexual move, just a need for closeness.
“Did you mean what you told Thaniel and Oliver? That this is our home.”
For a moment you thought he meant the small cabin the two of you shared. The large bed and two trunks full of both of your items, shelves filled with books and carved creatures. Even beyond these four walls, the area that the two of you had carved out for yourselves while surrounded by the people you had helped. 
But he meant more than that. He meant the cabin and the lands and the people. The once cursed lands which now prospered under his leadership and skill. Everything used for evil was repurposed and rebuilt. Six months had shown so much growth and you knew in six more months the land would show no scars of the past. 
This land, these people. This druid in front of you. This was your home.
“Yes,” you answered simply, because the answer was simple. You had had homes before. You could go anywhere you wanted, but this? This is where you wanted to be. This is where you needed to be.
“That brings me happiness beyond words, my heart. This is my home and it would feel as dark as the curse without you in it. I am honored to have you at my side.”
Later the two of you would go and talk to the people. Halsin had many new stories to tell the children, though some would need to be censored until they were older. You needed to meet with the people who were rebuilding the House of Healing to make sure they had everything they needed. You wanted to find the owlbear and make sure he was settled in comfortably.
But for now? For now you simply closed your eyes and enjoyed being held by your druid. The two of you were safe and happy, if more than a little hungover, and that was enough for you.
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homeofthelonelywriter · 13 hours ago
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The plane was filled with soldiers, all getting ready to land and start the mission. Everyone was preparing in their own way. Some people were listening to music; others were reading either a novel or the mission briefing. There were the quiet ones, their eyes closed, and their head leaned back against the wall behind them. Simon was one of those. Before missions, he wanted to be in his own bubble. He’d drown out the noise around him, go through the plan again and again until it was in his blood. But this time…he couldn’t. Because of you.
“Love…” he sounded exasperated as he addressed you. “…what are you doing?” You glanced up at him before your attention returned to the project in your hands. “Crocheting, why?” He watched you for a few moments, the way your eyebrows were pulled together in concentration and your tongue peeked out from between your lips. You looked adorable. “Nothing, just curious, babe.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, ignoring the mask separating the two of you. By now, the pair of you were used to it.
Simon closed his eyes again and thought back, trying to remember if he had ever seen you crochet before, but nothing came up. This must be your first project. He couldn’t help but peek at you again, especially at your project. He desperately wanted to know what you were creating, but before he could ask, Price came up to him, gathering his attention.
“Ready?” Simon nodded and got to his feet. Unlike most of the other soldiers, the 141 was going to parachute out of the plane. He turned to look at you one more time, reaching down and tilting your head up to kiss you properly. “See you soon, love.” You smiled, though he could see the fear in your eyes. “See you soon, Si. Be careful.” He nodded, before joining the rest of his team.
The mission was cruelling, and he couldn’t wait to be back in your arms. They spent two weeks in enemy territory, trying to get the intel they needed. The rest of the soldiers were used in different missions to keep attention away from the task force. And it worked. After those two weeks, they had what they needed and returned to camp, where you were already waiting.
Being a medic, you rarely ventured out onto the field. Mainly, you stayed at wherever the base camp was and waited for patients to come to you. But when news traveled that the 141 was on its way back, everyone knew not to bother you. After all, you would never forgive whoever kept you from Simon. And the moment you saw him, you jumped into his arms. “I missed you.” He chuckled, holding you tightly. “I missed you too, sweetheart. Come, let’s rest a bit, yeah?”
The plane back to Britain would leave the next day, so you had a few hours to relax before that. Thankfully, the task force members all had their individual tents, so you could enjoy the downtime without Simon having to wear the mask. However, when he immediately wanted to get into bed and cuddle, you had to send him off to shower first. He stunk. Plus, it gave you time to prepare your little surprise.
When Simon returned to his tent, he found you kneeling on the field bed, wearing only one of his shirts and panties, while hiding something behind you. “Oh? What did I do to earn this?” You chuckled and shook your head. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Si. I’m not having sex surrounded by horny soldiers.” The faux disappointed look on his face made you laugh again before you waved him closer. “But I do have a surprise for you.”
He stepped closer to you, even kneeling down right in front of you when you asked him to. “Okay, close your eyes.” The way he didn’t even hesitate, the way he trusted you, made your heart swell with love. And though it wasn’t what you actually wanted to do, you couldn’t help yourself but lean in and press a soft and short kiss to his lips. “Keep them closed.”
Finally, you brought out what you had been hiding behind your bag and pulled it over his hair. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open and he looked up, confused as to what you just placed on his head. “It’s not perfect, honestly, it’s the first time I even tried crocheting, but…” Simon stood up and grabbed the broken piece of glass he used as a mirror. “…when I saw it online, I just had to make it. Once I’m better, I’ll make it again, I promise. Just…do you like it?”
Simon stared at the beanie on his head, it was black and fit perfectly. “I love it. Thank you, babe.” You grinned and bounced to his side. “There’s more.” While making sure that he was still looking into the poor excuse of a mirror, you gently unfolded the edge of the beanie until it was a balaclava covering Simon’s face. A soft gasp escaped him when he realized why you wanted to make it for him. “This way, if you ever feel uncomfortable in public, you can just roll it down, you know?”
Without a word, Simon placed the ‘mirror’ down and spun around, pulling you into a tight hug. “I love you so damn much. I don’t deserve you, my love.” You chuckled, happily wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you too, big guy. Now, cuddles?” With a grin, he nodded and picked you up, carrying you to the bed, where he laid down with you on top of him, the both of you quickly falling into a deep slumber.
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A/N: This one is long...oops. Based on this TikTok. Also, I don't usually post on Sundays, but this is a little thank you for all the love you guys showed me recently and for 3000 followers! Hope you like it!
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hyucksos · 20 hours ago
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heavy is the crown — mark lee [preview]
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pairing: mark lee x f!reader genre: fantasy/supernatural au, crime-action, angst, romance preview wc: 1.2k (actual wc: tbc) synopsis: a series of visions lead you to mark lee, a seemingly normal human boy with no ties to the world of the gifted— your world. as such, you're concerned as to why you keep seeing him in your dreams, and the army of wraiths that just can't seem to leave him alone despite him being powerless... or so you thought. as he joins you at the academy, you learn that there may be more to this mark lee than you thought there was. taglist: open | click here to join
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You had no idea what Taekwondo was. At least, not until today.
According to Donghyuck, it’s a form of martial arts, similar to the combat training you go through at the academy every day. You weren’t actually sure on whether to believe him or not considering Donghyuck is Donghyuck and his whole life before joining the academy sounded like a jumble of lies (you learnt not to trust him wholeheartedly after he convinced you that bananas were considered a delicacy in the outside world. He made you eat them with a knife and fork for a full week).
But now, as you’re sitting amongst the sea of heads in the stands overlooking the arena below, you think that Donghyuck might just be telling the truth this time.
You tug on the gloves that hug your hands and forearms, the latex that sticks uncomfortably to your skin not at all helping in easing your nerves. You rarely step foot outside the academy— not like it’s ever been restricted; you know being in unfamiliar environments could potentially spike your elemental, and you didn’t want to risk accidentally committing arson, or anything like that. As much as you hate your gloves, you know they keep you safe, which is why you keep them on.
Weirdly enough, nobody seems to pay you any mind; not with your gloves, not even with the bulky silhouette of your hanbok-like uniform you knew you should have changed out of before coming here. It’s as though you’re invisible, everyone’s eyes fixed on the arena below.
“The next match is about to begin. In the blue corner representing Blue Wave Taekwondo, here to show off his agility and skill— let’s give it up for Jeno Lee!”
You startle when the people around you cheer loudly, and you slowly bring your own hands together to join in on the applause. You can’t really make out the athlete’s face as he steps into the ring, most of his features blocked by the helmet he dons. You’re curious, having never seen a sparring match that required this much gear before— then again, you suppose that's just how it goes for an ordinary human sport.
“And in the red corner, known for his speed and precision, Kick It Dojang’s very own Mark Lee! Let’s give him a warm welcome!”
The buzz of the crowd fades into the background the moment your gaze lands on the boy decked in red and white, but you don’t register it until a second later— not until he straightens his back after bowing to his opponent, and his eyes meet yours.
A sharp pain suddenly hits your temples, and you hiss as your head falls to your hands. Immediately, the world starts to warp.
You’re looking at the boy from your visions, the boy you now know as Mark Lee. His head lies in your lap, lifeless, his skin pale and cold. Shadows swirl around you, whispering things you don’t understand.
“Mark,” you breathe, voice trembling. “Wake up. I need you to wake up, please.”
But nothing.
The whispers grow louder, your own voice feeling like it's being drowned out by their presence. Your chest starts to tighten with the weight of the darkness-
The vision cuts off abruptly, and you’re left breathless as your eyes refocus to the arena before you. You’re not sure how much time has passed, but Mark is still in the ring, already in the midst of sparring with his opponent.
Your visions of him were what led you here in the first place, each one like fragments of a puzzle pulling you closer and closer. They're mostly brief, but you know they mean something, especially because of the shadows that would often surround him as they hiss with intent you couldn't decipher.
But this one was different.
For the first time, he had a name. For the first time, you saw him up close— vulnerable, his life resting in your hands as the wraiths closed in around you both.
It felt like the collision of two separate worlds that were never supposed to merge, and you know that this was no ordinary vision. Whatever it is that just happened... it was only the beginning.
And you knew you needed to let Mark know.
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Mark bounces his head to the music blasting through his wired earpieces, his eyes trained on his scuffed Converses as he walks. He's been told it's a real bad habit, to not watch where he's going (especially when he couldn't even hear his surroundings most of the time), but he swears he's working on it. Plus, his headphones aren't even the noise-cancelling kind, so he's still able to hear what goes on around him, albeit only partly; like right now.
Mark stops in his tracks, pulling out one of the buds from his ears as he looks behind him.
Nothing.
It's been happening a lot recently, to get the sensation of someone whispering in his ear only for him to look up and realise that he's alone. He's tried brushing it off as a gust of wind— even a figment of his own imagination— but he knows better than to believe that, not when the night is too still, too quiet, and he's far from losing his mind.
He also knows better than to ask if anybody's there— he's seen enough horror movies to know how badly that would end for him.
Perhaps walking through the park at this hour wasn't his best idea in the first place.
Mark stares idly at the barely-lit pavement for a few seconds more before bringing his earbud back to his ear, turning back around to resume his walk— only to be met with you.
He stumbles backwards with a startled gasp, his phone almost falling from his hand before he realises that no, you're not a ghost.
You’re the girl from earlier.
Of course, Mark remembers you. How could he not, when you're the only one who stuck out like a sore thumb in a sea of spectators? It was odd enough as it is for him to be distracted right before a match, but there was just something about you that pulled him in; Mark couldn't pinpoint exactly what. Maybe it was your odd choice of attire, the traditional Korean-inspired silhouette of your all-black trench coat that cinched at your waist, or maybe it was the latex gloves that caught his attention first.
Either way, he’s feeling it again, that magnetic pull that renders him unable to look away, and it's not just because you're pretty— it feels as though there's literally something weighing him down, pulling on his chest.
Before he could question it, he notices your eyes lose focus on him, settling on something behind him instead. You’re the first one to break the silence.
"Duck."
Mark frowns. "What?"
In a split second, you're already ripping off your gloves, a flame roaring to life in your palm before you hurl the fire over his shoulder.
Mark’s confusion morphs into a split-second horror as he instinctively ducks, stumbling over his own two feet as he hears the air behind him fill with an otherworldly screech. Still, he dares himself to look over his shoulder, just in time to see multiple shadowy figures burst into flames before dissolving into nothingness.
The sight only causes Mark to fall on his butt, his neck snapping back towards you.
“What the hell was that?” His voice cracks, barely above a whisper. “And- what- what did you just do?”
You let out a shaky breath, flicking your bare wrist before you put on your glove, almost nonchalantly. Almost like you didn’t just shoot fire out of your hands.
Oh, maybe he is losing his mind.
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captainsophiestark · 18 hours ago
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Dance Like Nobody's Watching
Dick Grayson x Reader
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Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for Fictober 2024!
Fandom: DC
Day Twenty-Seven Prompt: "Let me remind you."
Summary: Dick's SO is having trouble adjusting to the new scrutiny of attending Wayne galas as his date, but thankfully, he has an idea to help with that.
Word Count: 1,449
Category: Fluff
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
I sipped my champagne, trying to get a handle on my nerves. I could handle fighting the Joker and Scarecrow with no problems, but attending a Wayne gala as the partner of Dick Grayson was throwing me for a loop.
I fought the urge to scowl about it. If one thing could make this night more awkward, it would be some person I barely knew finding me making faces in the corner.
What irritated me the most was that this was by no means my first Wayne gala. I'd grown up with Dick and spent countless hours in the manor with him and his family. We'd been each other's primary entertainment at these things as kids. But being here as his date, and as an adult expected to do more than turn the banquet tables into a fort, was turning out to be surprisingly stressful.
When we were kids, nobody seemed to care what we did much beyond just noticing and thinking we were cute. Now, it seemed like everybody in this room wanted something from Dick, and either saw me as a threat to their ability to get it or as a secret backdoor to him, if only they could get me on their side.
I was seriously on the edge of losing it and going back to the buffet tables kid-style.
Dick had done his best to stick with me, but people kept showing up to pull both of us away from each other for a conversation, and we hadn't been able to do much without being incredibly, obviously rude. I'd finally managed to extract myself enough for some breathing room, but I could see Dick still in the middle of things, a group of old men who almost certainly wanted money from Bruce talking his ear off.
Even from here, I could tell Dick was barely paying attention to them. His eyes scanned the crowd, and after a moment, they landed on me. He raised an eyebrow, and I gave him a reassuring smile. Unfortunately for me, he knew me too well and was too good of a detective to believe it.
Dick quickly made his excuses to the men around him, and didn't take no for an answer as he left the conversation and headed in my direction. He crossed the massive room quickly to stand before me, and this time when I smiled at him, it was much more genuine.
"Hey," he said, returning my smile and leaning in to kiss my temple as soon as he reached me. "How are you doing?"
"Good." I tried to strengthen my smile, but Dick saw right through it. He raised an eyebrow at me.
"...Are you sure?"
I sighed. "It's just... this all feels a little weird. I've known you forever, you know it's never been important to me that you're the famed son of billionare Bruce Wayne. But it seems like that's all anybody else here can think about, and they all either hate me because they want to be with you or want to be my new best friend, all so they can get to you and Bruce. It's fine, none of their opinions matter to me, but... I just didn't expect to feel so weird coming to one of these things again."
Dick took a step closer to me, reaching out to take my arm with a concerned look on his face. He spoke quietly enough that, even if someone had been intentionally eavesdropping (which had happened more than once tonight), they wouldn't be able to hear him.
"Do you want to go? I'm happy to leave if you want to. We don't have to stay here."
I shook my head before he'd even finished his sentence.
"Running and no-showing Bruce's galas isn't a long-term solution. And seriously, it's fine, I'll adjust. I just... I don't know. I miss the days where we hid under the punch bowl giggling out of sight of everybody, you know?"
My boyfriend grinned. "I mean, if you really think about it, there's nothing keeping us from doing that again."
"I can think of a few things," I laughed, swatting his shoulder lightly. He hummed, but sobered quickly as he scanned the room, clearly thinking.
"Well... if you're sure you don't want to commandeer the space under the desert table?"
"I'm sure."
"Then why don't we try dancing? That's a little more... socially acceptable than hiding under the tables, but it's one of the things we used to have the most fun doing at these things. Remember how we'd just take over the entire floor to do whatever we wanted when we were kids?"
I laughed. "Yeah, of course. Although it's a little harder to remember the feeling that inspired us to just run out there before."
Dick smiled softly and extended his hand to me.
"Let me remind you."
My heart did a little backflip, especially when I met Dick's sparkling blue eyes. I huffed a little laugh of disbelief, especially at the thought of stepping into the center of the spotlight when I knew just how many people were going to be watching. But then I looked at Dick again, and I decided that, as long as I was with him, they didn't matter.
I took his hand, and he didn't waste a second before pulling me after him to the dance floor. I laughed, unable to hold back a smile even as heads turned towards us. Dick ignored them completely. He pulled me to his chest when we reached the center of the floor and wrapped an arm securely around my waist, the other taking one of my hands. I rested my free hand on his shoulder, and as we started swaying together to the music, his eyes didn't leave mine for a second.
"You know..." he started after a moment, drawing my attention back from a glance over his shoulder to where people were watching us. "This is nice, but a slow dance wasn't exactly what I had in mind."
I gave Dick my full attention and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm almost afraid to ask, but... what did you have in mind?"
He grinned. "Something more like this."
Suddenly, Dick was spinning me out and away from him, twirling across the floor before pulling me back. We'd know each other long enough and spent enough time as vigilante teammates that his steps were easy to follow, even as he started something closer to swing that didn't match the music at all.
I laughed, a warm feeling spreading through my chest as I shared a smile with my partner. In the back of my mind, I knew more people were probably watching and judging than ever. But suddenly they didn't matter like they used to.
Dick swung me around again, then pulled me close and into an exaggerated dip. If I didn't know he was a superhero, I probably would've been a little worried about him dropping me. Instead, it just made me laugh, especially as Dick grinned and led me into something way too close to something you'd do to Cotton Eye Joe.
With every second that passed on the dance floor with Dick, everyone else in the room faded further and further away. It felt like when we were kids, just me and the most important person in the world to me having the time of our lives.
"Feel any better?" asked Dick, whispering in my ear as he pulled me close again, both hands wrapped tight around my waist. I smiled, running my hands up his arms and across his shoulders.
"So much better. Thank you."
"You don't need to thank me. We're partners, you know I'd never leave you hanging."
I pulled back enough to meet Dick's eyes, and found their familiar sparkle and a smile waiting for me. I gave him a soft smile back.
"I love you, Dick Grayson. So fucking much."
Dick beamed back at me. "I love you too. Now come on, the band's finally catching on to what we want. I want to dance with the love of my life to music that's actually fun for dancing."
I just laughed as Dick swung me out and away from him again, the two of us twirling across the floor, this time in sync with the now-faster music. Suddenly, after a few minutes with Dick, the propsect of all these Wayne galas didn't seem nearly so daunting anymore. Sure, I might have to deal with a few unpleasant strangers whose opinions didn't matter to me. But I'd also get to do this, laughing and dancing and having the time of our lives, with my favorite person in the world.
Worth it in the long run, as far as I was concerned.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21
DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos @g0atmansbridge182
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obeymestory · 2 days ago
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I need anything and everyone Barbatos PLEASE FEED ME
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"You sure are something, aren't you?"
He bows respectfully, making you a cup of tea and gently placing it down on the table in front of you, placing a plate with a slice of his famous cake beside the teacup.
"Here you are. I hope everything is to your liking."
(Since you clicked on the "Keep Reading" thingy, I shall gift you a list all about your moments with Barbatos, luckily he made you some tea and a treat to consume while you are reading.)
Warning!!: Slight mature mentions near the end-ish.
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During the start of your guys' relationship, (the acquaintance stage), he would most likely observe you every time he's around you, asking you small questions like; "Are you enjoying your stay in Devildom so far?" and "How may I be of service?"
Eventually, after noticing what you liked to eat during supper, and after a good month of observing the little things you do, he'd text you, asking if you'd like to join him in picking up groceries, wanting to spend some quality time with you, finding you interesting.
After your first outing together, he'd learn that he genuinely enjoys your company, and will ask you to go out with him more often, either to pick something up, or simply just to show you new places he thought you might like.
Once it reached the fifth outing together, he'd start to ask you more questions, wanting to get to know you better. Just a few for example;
"Do you have a favorite tea?"
"Do you enjoy sweet flavors? Or perhaps, spicy ones?"
"Would you tell me more about yourself?"
You reached the friend stage after a few months, this is when Barbatos started to make you your favorite tea and whatever pastries you loved once everyone got back to the house of lamentations from RAD.
During the friend stage he would ask how your day was everyday, and how you were doing in all of your classes, asking if you'd like any help with anything or if he could lend you anything to help you study.
During the weekends he would find time to hang out with you after all of his tasks were completed, while also making sure Diavolo maintained his schedule, of course.
The closer you two got, the more he would open up about things he liked, sliding in a compliment towards you at least once a day, commenting mostly on how smart, and how good of a listener you are.
As the end of the Devildom school year came along he would confess his feelings for you, his hands hesitantly cupping your facial cheeks in case you didn't feel the same, and whispering these sweet words to you;
"I don't know if you'll feel the same, and I'm afraid of ruining what we've worked so hard to achieve together... but Y/N... I... Find myself liking you more than I should... more than my own Lord even. I... I love you, Y/N. Please tell me... do you feel the same?"
When you say "yes" his lips part and his eyes widen, as if he were expecting the opposite of your answer, caressing his thumbs against your cheekbones. Soon murmuring just loud enough for you and you alone to hear; "may I place my lips upon yours?"
You two would interlock pinkies in public, but anytime the two of you were around people you both knew like Diavolo or the demon brothers, he would intertwine all of his fingers with yours, feeling more comfortable with these small actions around those he knew.
Behind closed doors, like in your room, he would do anything you asked, holding you close and always touching you gently, treating you as delicately as a rose.
If you said you wanted to take it to the next level he would be hesitant at first, asking you before trying anything, wanting to make sure it was okay. "Is this truly what you would like?"
When others were around you during the short amount of time he wasn't right beside you, he'd get jealous, not liking to admit it, and hiding it well behind a gentle smile. He'd take your hand in his and glance at the people you were once chatting with, kissing the back of your hand as he gazed at them with a firm expression. He wasn't glaring, but he was definitely showing them that you were his lover.
On your birthday he would make all of your favorite meals and desserts, also making your favorite tea and making sure every birthday was the day you most remembered.
After a full year together he would take you to the most beautiful part of Devildom, taking both of your hands in his and slowly kneeling down in front of you, gazing up at you with the most loving expression on his face
"Y/N... The past two years... I've grown a strong passion for you... and because of you I have more love in my soul than I ever knew was possible... will you do the honor of becoming my lovely wife/husband? I cannot picture my future with anyone else, and I truly love you... so... Will you marry me?"
When you agreed to become his wife, he would get up with wide eyes, wrapping his arms around you and giving you the best hug he's ever given you, shaking in happiness and giving you a deep passionate kiss on the lips after a few minutes of holding you.
The wedding had a full chapel, Michael being the priest, Lord Diavolo being Barbatos' best man, and whoever you wanted as your best man/brides maid. All of the demon brothers were invited, a long with Simeon, Luke, Raphael, Thirteen, and whoever else you wanted to be there.
After the wedding he would spend the whole night making love to you, and he couldn't keep his lips off of yours now that he knew you would be his wife forever and ever.
(For anyone that identifies as female); As you became pregnant with his child, he would do everything in his path to take care of you, making sure you were eating healthy, taking folic acid tablets, and even asking Lord Diavolo to grant him some time off so he could spend more time with you and make sure you're doing okay.
You're his highest priority and he would do anything to prove it to you, taking time off to spend with you, doing anything you asked, and making sure you were as happy as can be with him.
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"I hope you enjoyed reading all of this."
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