#is this just an excuse to show off my knowledge? maybe
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Herbalist MC Part 1
Disclaimer: this is based on my own limited knowledge and experience. Do not take any of this as medical advice to any capacity until you have done your own thorough research. Some of the mentioned herbs are toxic and even deadly when handled improperly. As an herbalist I strive to maintain factual accuracy, but I may make mistakes that could be fatal. Do your own research.
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I feel like Solomon is one of the first to recognize their skills. They were using the kitchen in Purgatory Hall instead of the one at the House of Lamentation (it was under repair once again) to prepare a human-safe cream for their dry skin.
"What's this? Is my dear apprentice finally taking a hands on interest in sorcery?" Solomon steps into the kitchen when he hears glass clinking and someone clattering around noisily, usually a sure sign someone was preparing a meal. This time, however, it was you.
He takes a look around. The pleasant floral scent over calendula fills the air. There's a massive pot on the stove, something boiling furiously inside. Curiously, the lid is on upside down with a plastic bag of melting ice on top.
On the other side of the kitchen, a glass jar lays tipped over on the granite countertop, golden flower heads scattered on the counter. That must have been the source of the glass he heard moments ago.
You look over at him with a slight grin as you sweep the fallen petals from the counter into a clean bowl. "No, this is all human world stuff. I'm going to make a cream for my hands. Asmo keeps scolding me for letting them get so dry."
Solomon hums softly. It had been many decades since he himself had practiced human medicine. No longer familiar with herbalism techniques, he steps inside and pulls out a stool to watch. "You don't mind if I stick around, do you?"
"No, that's fine with me! Just don't touch anything. I know what I'm doing and if you mess with anything I might not be able to fix it."
He's content to just watch in peaceful silence for now. You do seem to know what you're doing - you're confident in every movement you make. The moment feels oddly domestic, with you whipping up some interesting concoction and him sitting contentedly to the side, allowing you to work.
Eventually, his curiosity gets the better of him. "You mentioned a hand cream, but what is that on the stove?"
Setting the bowl of petals down on the now clean counter with a quiet clink, you remove the baggie from the lid and dump the water into the sink. "I'm making a hydrosol first," you reply, refilling the baggie with ice from the freezer next to the stove, "to be one of the main ingredients in the cream. Calendula is really good for a lot of different things, but in this case we're mostly focusing on its wound healing properties. It's anti-inflammatory and soothing to dry, cracked skin."
"I see. If I remember correctly, calendula is believed to induce prophetic dreams to protect against theft and burglary. You could certainly use that around a certain brother." Solomon holds his chin in that silly philosophical pose he does so often. "I'm all for experimentation in pursuit of knowledge, but is that pot not a simplified pressure cooker with none of the testing to ensure its safety?"
You giggle and shake your head. "No, it's perfectly safe. Maybe if I wasn't monitoring it, it could be dangerous, but I've done this plenty of times. See, having the lid on would normally create pressure with the water boiling in the bottom, but the ice on top rapidly cools the water vapor, making it drip into a bowl inside the pot. Basically the steam cools down so quickly pressure can't build up."
He nods once more, content with your explanation. For once, he's not the expert and he's willing to learn from you. "Interesting how similar this is to sorcery..." he muses.
"Yeah, I've noticed that." You replace the baggie ice in the lid again. "I think that's why so many herbalists were ostracized or punished for being witches, even if they weren't. The main difference I've seen, now that I've practiced both, is whether there's magic involved or not."
"Or if you're using ingredients native to either the Devildom or the Celestial Realm. Which I suppose is a more specific way of saying there's magic involved," Solomon adds.
Neither of you have much of relevance to say after that. After an hour or so, you remove the finished hydrosol from the pot (ignoring Solomon's gentle teasing about the slightly insane but creative usage of an upside down colander to hold the little glass jar above the boiling herbs) and let it cool before doing anything else.
"Making the hydrosol took longer than I expected, so I don't have time to make the cream today. The hydrosol has to be room temperature before I can start," you say. "And now I also have this super concentrated calendula tea in addition to the hydrosol. Maybe I'll make soap out of it."
"You know how to make soap?" Solomon asks. His gray eyes, normally guarded, widened in disbelief makes you laugh.
"Yeah, it's not hard. I can come over again soon to show you how, if you want." It's a genuine offer. He taught you most of your practical sorcery, so it's only fair for you to teach him ordinary chemistry and herbalism in return. That, and you just enjoy his company.
Solomon grins, openly joyful at the prospect. "Absolutely! I would love that."
"Okay! I'll text you when I have time to come back."
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Note: The disclaimer at the top won't always apply but I will add it to every post in this series. Some herbs are entirely harmless. However, I don't want anyone to see this and think it's okay to use any herb in any preparation without doing their own research. I don't know what kind of skills you have. I don't know what allergies you have. You might not know what allergies you have. Always take these types of things with a grain of salt.
#this can be read as either the og timeline or the nb timeline#is this just an excuse to show off my knowledge? maybe#am I writing this instead of making hand cream with the hydrosol I made a few days ago? also maybe#obey me#obey me shall we date#om shall we date#om swd#omswd#om solomon#obey me solomon#can be platonic or romantic#obey me solomon x reader#obey me solomon x mc
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader
You're early.
Your little knock on the door sends him into a spiral of panic, brain splitting in half, trying to figure out if he can hide his mortifying failure from you and still save dinner.
You knock again.
"Hey, sorry, I know we're early but-" You peel off with a sniff, nose wrinkling slightly, lips tucking together. You're wearing a lip stick, or a lip gloss, or something? And your hair is done. "Is something burning?"
"No!" He blurts. "No, uh. I'm just... cooking. Come in, come in."
He did actually, burn dinner. He burnt it so bad he had to order delivery, Thai on the fly, much to your excitement, and he files the knowledge of one of your favorite foods away for the future. The two of you eat together, little bits and pieces being given to Emmaline from your finger, and by the time you're finished, he's nearly worked up the nerve to start talking.
"So..." your voice trails, awkwardly, and you glance at him before looking away, finding a spot on the wall to study. Here goes nothing.
"I ah, wanted to explain, my behavior... from the other night." He starts, rubbing the nape of his neck. You watch him expectantly, Emmaline on your lap, and when he falters, you give him an encouraging nod.
"I'm listening."
"How I reacted, how I spoke to you was... unfair. It was cruel and I never want to make you upset, like that." You nod. "What I do- my job- it's... it can be dangerous. Stressful. Our last mission was difficult and I... operate in a different headspace at work. It's what keeps me alive. Makes me good at what I do." Skip the killing part, LT, Soap's voice reminds him, and he pushes on. "I was still decompressing, when you came to the door and I didn't want you to see me... like that."
"With your war paint." You quip, and he pauses, head cocked. "You had black stuff, around your eyes?"
"Yes, with my war paint. I didn't want you to..." He loses it for a second, flailing in the wind, mind scrambling as he tries to put the words together. Just say it. Tell the truth. "I didn't want you to be afraid of me. I don't think I could stand it. It's no excuse but, I guess, I thought you deserved an explanation."
"You're right." You say slowly. "It's not an excuse." You sigh, twirling a fork through the last of your noodles. "I'm not mad at you, not anymore. I just... it's hard you know. To put yourself out there, when you're a single mom. And a widow. I thought, maybe... you didn't-"
"I do." He cuts you off. "I... you and Emmaline, you're the best things that have happened in a long time. I-"
"Oh my god!" you gasp, and he instinctually startles, muscles going stiff as he surveys the flat.
"What?"
"It's snowing! Sorry, just uh..." You're already standing, hand half reaching towards him, excited smile on your face. "Emmaline's never seen snow before, can we... this is her first winter." You explain, and then move towards the balcony, fidgeting with his door lock, huffing in frustration when you can't figure it out.
"I got it." He says, not mentioning that it's custom, and slides it free, pushing the door wide so you can go outside. You're vibrating with joy, smile wide and big, and even Emmaline feels it, watching her mum, little face lit up the same as yours.
"Look, baby. Look!" You point, and then cup your palm, letting fat white flakes fall into your hand, tilting to show Emma, and she cackles with excitement, pudgy hand slapping against yours, bringing the melting snow to her mouth. You laugh with her, staring back up at the sky before glancing over to where he stands in the doorway, enraptured. The snow is caught in your hair, on your nose, in your eyelashes, the same as the baby, both of you glowing on his fucking balcony like angels on earth, sent to him from someone up there who might love him.
"Thanks, mum." he whispers to himself, to her, ducking inside to grab the blanket from the couch so he can wrap the two of you up in it to keep you at least a little warm and protected from the elements. "I wish you could have met them."
When he reappears, you're still catching flakes, this time with your tongue, hardly paying attention until he's settling the blanket on your shoulders and stepping back to watch, content to try to memorize every single second.
"Come here." You call, extending a hand, wiggling your fingers. "Try to catch one on your tongue." But he can't move.... he's too stunned, standing there before you, staring, and it gives you pause. "Simon." You whisper, head tipped back. The balcony lamp reflects in your eyes, snowflakes and yellow shine glowing back at him, the entire world lit up inside them, and his hand finds your cheek, cupping it with his bare palm, thumb stroking across the velvet that is your skin.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. So, so sorry." His voice sounds thick, fractured, and you smile, leaning into him, Emmaline's warm weight between your bodies.
"I know... I... I understand now." You look away, for a second, taking a deep breath before blinking rapidly, tears just barely there on your waterline. "I can't... losing Emma's dad, before she was even born I- I can't... I don't want to go through anything like that again, Simon. I'm scared." It's a confession, horrifying and real, terrified and heartbreaking. All he can do is tell you the truth. Tell you what he feels. What he knows.
"You don't have to be scared." He murmurs, low and soft, other hand coming to gently support Emmaline's back. "Not with me. I promise you." What is he doing, what is he doing, what is he- what is he promising? To live forever? To never hurt you? To never let either of you be hurt? To claw his way back to you, even in death?
He looks down at you, at Emma, and the world freezes. He sees everything so clearly, the image of his future, of yours- a little house with a yard, another baby. Emmaline a big sister, so proud and excited. All of you tucked away somewhere secret and safe.
He takes a deep breath, exhale crystalizing in the air, water vapor falling like a halo around you, and his confession comes unbidden, so easily given to you. "I want to kiss you."
"Okay." You answer, and then he moves, closing the gap, slowly pressing his lips to the warmth of yours, blood pooling beneath his skin, heat flowing between your bodies. You taste like heaven, mouth sweet and easy for him, parting with a tiny gasp, and it overpowers him to the point where he thinks his knees might give out. He can't help but hold your closer, arm tightening around your back, finger stroking down the length of your spine-
Emma cries. It's not really a cry, more like a little shout, and you pull away abruptly, giggly expression on your face.
"What's wrong baby girl." He hums, patting her back, tucking the blanket tighter around your arm and her body.
"I think she's upset she's going to have to share you. You're her favorite nowadays, you know." You tease, and his grin is so heavy on his face, but so light at the same time, something completely foreign and wild, the breadth of happiness something he hasn't felt in so many years. "And she's probably cold."
"Should we go inside?" He motions, somewhat relieved to get both of you out of the cold, and when you nod, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing gently.
"We should."
#peaches writes#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#light on
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the group chat (oscar's version)
oscar piastri
cw: smut/pwp, filming, doggy style, lingerie, oscar's jacket, (slight) possessive behaviour (other drivers be warned!),
want a different driver? find them all here!
it was the break between silverstone and mogyoród, it was only a week between races but it was an excuse to just do nothing before the second half of the season. the driver's group chat was in a slight buzz with photos of the week off (even though some didn't take the week off).
but on the day before everyone packed it up to travel to hungary, there was a 'ping' of the group chat. most didn't see it till later, but the contents were a rather large video file with no thumbnail.
"lastdayhome24.mp4"
the most curious got in a pair of earbuds in and slinked away from their prior engagements to see what oscar had sent. what the video contained was far more interesting than anything else they were doing.
"this is ridiculous." you said as you sat there on the bed, you were looking up at your boyfriend before you looked to the camera, "you better tell him how stupid this is after."
they weren't, not with their cocks throbbing in their hands as they watched oscar take you apart.
oscar had propped his phone up with the front facing camera pointing to the both of you. you were seated on the bed propped up on your elbows with your knees bent.
most of your figure was clothed with oscar's driving jacket. the pretty orange and black with the 'monster' energy logo at the collar. while the viewer of the video couldn't see what was past the jacket, oscar had a clear view of your perfect body barely clothed in skimpy black lingerie.
he was in nothing but a tight pair of briefs that did very little to conceal his erection. he couldn't help himself, it was a natural reaction to the lovely sight of his lovely girlfriend.
"i don't think they're goin' to be much help, babe." he said as he sat knelt between your legs and letting his hands explore your exposed body. he said to the camera, "i got her in a nice pair i got for in france. let's hope they survive the night, eh boys?" he chuckled as he continued to look at you.
you huffed and looked at him, you wanted to cross you arms but you knew he would just pin you down and explore your curves with his lips. you knew exactly how oscar managed to convince you to film a sex tape for the boys in the group chat.
it took begging, it took convincing, he was even going to buy your approval. he lavished you in praise about how he just wanted to show off his girl. you even had most of the others give written proof that they were not going to share this in anyway.
you were surprised how eager they were willing to even get the confirmation notarized by a lawyer if it meant that you'd make the tape faster. you knew these guys knew that porn was free on the internet.
oscar told you as you were putting on the lingerie that it was the knowledge that they could never have you. at least not while oscar was breathing. it was a tease of what they could never have. no amount of wins or money or trophies would lure you away from the australian driver.
"you don't know how much some of them want you." he said earlier, "your smile lights up a room and they're like moths."
"and what does that make you?" you asked, curious as to where this metaphor was going.
"oh, i'm the biggest moth! i'm the moth that'll kick their asses if they get too close." he nodded his head with a grin. god you needed him.
his hands dragged down the edge of the jacket, feeling the zipper under his thumbs. he remarked, "you look good in my colours."
you tugged at the collar a little, "i was thinking maybe a red next time... or maybe a green? or maybe a white!"
oscar narrowed his eyes at you before he went in for a kiss, his bare chest against yours and he wrapped his arms around you possessively. you squealed into the kiss and kicked out your legs.
"i'm joking!" you squeaked when he pressed all his weight on you.
he held you face and deepened the kiss, you sweet noises were muffled as he slipped his tongue in your mouth and pressed his weight further onto you. he kept you pinned down onto the bed. he said in a low voice, but still loud enough to pick up on the camera near by.
"i like you in orange, babe. let's keep you in those colours." then pulled away to leaned back on his heels and get his cock out of his briefs. he scratched the side of his face with his free hand as he stroked his cock.
he loved the sight of you, drank you in like a cold drink. his breath hitched and when you tried to take the jacket off to cool down he panted, "don't. i want them to see you wear it when we fuck."
you blushed, "you're such a possessive fuck." then was pulled into another searing kiss. your core throbbed from the tone of his voice and the slight venom in his voice.
he would never hurt you, you never had to worry about that. even if the green eyed-monster came out, you were oscar's precious girl. the kisses trailed down your neck until he got to your chest.
with your breasts still in the bra, he squished them against his face and rubbed his face up against them. then he left a series of wet kisses on the top of them.
"oscar." you said almost breathless as the kisses grew. you could feel the heat burn your cheeks as he continued to worship your body.
"my name sounds so good on your lips, babe." he chuckled before he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and pulled back. his cock bobbed against his toned abdomen and he gazed at you lovingly.
he licked his lips with want, you looked too good.
you sat up fully and kissed him on the lips once more. you closed the gap between you two and stroked his cock with your legs in between his. he panted into the kiss and a sweet moan left his lips when you pulled away.
he swallowed and looked at the camera with his move star smile, "i get to tap that." and laughed before he turned his attention back to you. he watched you move back up the bed and get on your stomach, you raised your hips and gave them a little wiggle.
oscar stroked his cock to the sight of your ass in those little black panties. they framed your ass so sweetly. he knew he could rip them off and easily get a new pair. but the thought of peeling them off slowly was more appealing.
he licked his lips and said, "pretty girl."
you pressed your face against the pillow and arched you back further to entice him. you knew that oscar had a kink for his girlfriend, or whatever he wanted to call it.
it was almost endearing, he loved the sight of his precious girl all laid out for him. you whined a little, "are you to in love with your own reflection right now, piastri."
he laughed before he pulled the panties off of you. he groaned at the sight of you, even though the panties themselves left little to the imagination. but oscar gave your cheek a quick slap before he was running his hard cock against your slit.
"comon, piastri." you said as you shifted on the bed a little.
he kissed your lower back and palmed your ass for a moment before he said, "of course, dear." then pulled away to grab a condom from the nightstand drawer.
"play it safe, boys!" oscar chuckled as he put the condom on. then it was one hand on your hip and the other one his cock. he slowly sank in, he stayed still for a moment to let you adjust to it.
he knew there was times he went a little too rough and you ended up with some kind of injury. even though you stuck it out and tried to convince him that he didn't. he knew.
you softly gasped into the pillow at the stretch in your pussy.
"you like that, babe?" he asked as he started to move his hips, your pussy was a tight warm heat around his aching cock. he pushed up the jack a little bit to get a better view of your lower half.
you really did look good in orange and black.
you panted, you felt the jacket stick to your sweaty back as you felt him thrust against you. you moved a little back and forth with every thrust. you felt the heat burn your cheeks as he moved against you.
it felt so good, your buried your head further into the pillow to muffle your moans.
"don't hide your face, they all wanna hear you." he laughed as he held onto your hips with both hands and had you against his cock.
"you're such a pervert." you gasped. but it did make your pussy wetter.
he turned your head towards the phone that was recording you, you whined at the sight of you. you looked like a total whore wrapped in oscar's jacket. the bottom of it was pushed up to give him better access to your pussy. your cunt took him so fucking well.
you felt the heat sting your cheeks as you kept your face pressed to your bed. your hips bounced as he thrusted into you and he gave a fleeting glance to the sight of you two fucking in front of the camera. the screen reflected what was being recorded.
you felt a heat through your body as oscar fucked you. the sounds the both of you made were picked up on the camera. you knew that those pervert drivers were going to love the sounds of your moans over video.
"she's so perfect, boys." oscar said with pride, "no one else has got a sweet pussy like this. or a beautiful face like this. she's a real catch and you fuckers missed out." he laughed, "my babe." his pace grew and you felt his cock hit against your most sensitive parts.
you moaned against the bad and lifted your hips further to meet his thrusts. you could hear the wet sounds of his cock filling you whole with each thrust. you gasped into the covers and felt the thrill of pleasure through your body.
this video was nothing if not erotic.
you tried not to think about what the other driver's were doing to themselves when this video got posted in the group chat. how they wanted to admire your body, but it was covered in the driver's jacket.
oscar wouldn't give all of his girl's goods away that easily. he wanted the others to know that you were his. he leaned over you and kissed your neck, his chest pressed against the back of the jacket you wore.
you could feel a throbbing in your head as he continued to fuck you. you briefly looked at the camera and let out a string of moans as oscar just fucked your sweet pussy.
"my girl." he said with a curl of possession in his tone. it made you stomach flutter and your cunt ache.
your heart hammered in your chest as he rocked against you. you panted heavily. oscar's pace quickened, his cock bullied into your pussy. you felt the rush of orgasm thrum through your body, your cunt tightened around his cock as he continued to thrust.
"i'm close, oscar." you gasped.
"that's it. that's my girl." he almost purred, his pulse was in his ears as he bottomed out into you. the feeling of you even with a condom on felt good, there was something about you that just ran him raw.
he panted against your neck and slurred filthy praises into your heart. his entire body ached for you. his other half.
even with the camera on you, oscar would've made love to you that way you deserved it. his heart leapt at the thought of you, the smell of your shampoo in his nose, the feeling of you against him.
you whimpered into the pillow once more as you cunt clenched around him and you orgasmed. your head felt heavier for a moment as you tried to compose yourself. which was hard because oscar was still hitting all the right spots.
"oscar! ah!"
"almost there, babe." he panted as he practically was jack-hammering his cock into you. your ass shook with each of his movements. the bed shifted a little and the camera captured all of it!
oscar stayed with his quick pace except for the last few moments where he was more focused on hard thrusts rather than fast ones. He still pushed all of his cock inside of you and finished with a loud groan.
the clearest noise in the video.
"oh fuck." he panted as he leaned in and kissed your neck lovingly. he knew you were on cloud nine at that moment.
he pulled out and got you onto your back. he wasn't done yet. he however stop the video and started another before he got back between your legs and rub his hardening cock up against your slick pussy.
"let's give them a show, babe." he chuckled before he went in for another hot kiss.
it was two hefty files that were sent to the group chat. with the addition of a message that read, "enjoy!"
#bunny writes#the group chat#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula one smut#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula 1#oscar piastri#f1 fic#f1 smut#f1 rpf#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#oscar piastri x reader#op81#oscar piastri smut#op81 x reader#op81 smut
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Wounds We Never Show // CH.3 - jjk.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥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: Medical Talk/Examination (Disclaimer: I am not an expert in medical things and how hospitals run or work, my knowledge is very limited but I did do a LOT of research for this and I did work for a surgeon for a year so if somethings aren't correct, please don't hold it against me.) Lawyer!Jungkook, Nurse!reader, swearing, mutual hating (I think that's it? Let me know if I missed something) ❥word-count: 6.7k ❥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! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・
Five Years Ago.
“Okay, everyone. I’ve posted your group assignments. Please check for your name and your partner, then move to sit together. You’ll be working with them for the rest of the semester, so get acquainted. We’ll start in 15 minutes.”
A wave of groans echoed through the classroom. The final project was looming, and nobody was thrilled about the mandatory paired assignment.
You opened your laptop, already dreading the thought of being stuck with someone you barely knew for the rest of the semester. You scrolled down the list, but when you saw your name next to Jeon Jungkook, your heart dropped.
Of all people... him?
Your fingers hovered over the trackpad as a handful of memories flooded to the front of your mind—You didn’t know him well but you knew Jungkook as your ex’s best friend, David. You felt your stomach churn with bitterness. The guy who probably laughed along when hearing David’s excuses he would use whenever he cheated on you. You had never actually had a chance to meet him since you and David were so on and off but now you couldn’t escape it.
You glanced up, scanning the room. Jungkook was sitting near the front, oblivious, casually scrolling through his phone. He hadn’t noticed you, but then again, why would he? You sank lower in your chair, hoping he wouldn’t find you. Maybe you could just avoid him until the semester ended. But no such luck.
Jungkook stood up, heading to the professor. After a brief conversation, the professor glanced toward the back of the room and pointed at you. Great. Jungkook thanked him and turned, his eyes locking on you.
You didn’t have the chance to escape before he reached you, a friendly smile plastered across his face as he approached. “Hi,” he greeted, extending a hand. “Y/N, right?”
You stared at his hand for a moment, your mind racing with old anger, but you forced yourself to give him a perfunctory shake. “Yeah,” you replied shortly, barely meeting his eyes.
If Jungkook noticed your cold response, he didn’t show it. He sat down next to you, still smiling, as if this was just a regular introduction between classmates. “I don’t know about you, but I have no idea where to start on this project,” he said with a light chuckle, trying to break the ice.
“Yeah,” you muttered, the tension thickening around you. Your voice was tight, your eyes fixed on your laptop screen. You could feel the weight of the past pressing on your chest, making it harder to breathe.
Jungkook leaned back in his chair, frowning slightly. “It’s nice to talk to someone, though. I don’t really know anyone in this class.”
“Well I know you.” You say it so quietly Jungkook almost doesn’t register that you said something.
“What?” You glance at him and he has wide doe eyes full of confusion.
“It’s nothing.” You clear your throat and brush him off. Jungkook was still left caught off guard but let it go for just a moment. Pulling his laptop back out of his bag and getting set up next to you.
The silent anger was radiating off of you next to him and Jungkook felt suddenly anxious that he had said something wrong, “I’m sorry but did I offend you or something?”
“Nope.” You say , dry and short.
“Seems like I did something.”
“You didn’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.” You say in a more direct tone, looking him in the eyes this time.
Jungkook just stared at you in silence for a moment, confused as to what was happening. Had he met you before? He couldn’t think of a time or place where he would have. He didn’t even recognize your name when he looked at the class list. Maybe you had met and so you were upset that he didn’t remember you.
“I’m sorry for whatever it was I did. I really didn’t mean to offend you.” Jungkook keeps talking but you don’t respond to him. “Can we start over maybe?”
You huffed, “I don’t think so.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling an unfamiliar knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. "Okay..." he muttered under his breath, unsure of what to do next. There was an awkward pause, the kind that stretched and lingered uncomfortably.
Jungkook cleared his throat, still trying to make sense of your reaction. "Look, I really don’t know what’s going on, but if I did something, I’d like to make it right."
You snapped your head toward him, finally unable to hold it in. “You want to make it right? Really?”
He nodded, his expression open, genuinely confused. “I mean, I don’t even know what I did, but yeah.”
You stared at him for a moment, trying to hold back the wave of anger rising in your chest. He has no idea. Of course, he doesn’t. He doesn’t even know you, doesn’t know the history. You wanted to scream, but instead, you spoke through gritted teeth. “Maybe you can ask David about it? I’m sure you two can have a great laugh about all of it.”
Jungkook blinked, the mention of David clearly throwing him off balance. “How did you know David?”
“Let’s just do this project and never speak again.” You dodge around his question, facing to the front of the room again. Jungkook was going to say something but was abruptly stopped.
“Okay now that it seems everyone has gotten acquainted, let’s get started.” The voice of your professor is echoing around the room.
。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭
Present Day
It’s been a week since the wedding.
Melanie and Namjoon were well into their honeymoon and you had been getting pictures the last couple of days. You had been exhausted all week following the wedding. Today was your first day back to work at the hospital though, another twelve hour shift. You were in oncology today and it wasn’t much different than another other hospital floor. It was always a different change of pace, much more difficult emotionally rather than physically.
“Dr. Kim will give you more details about what kind of specifics he likes, you’ve been down here before so I’m sure you will pick it up easily.” Vic, a long time friend and coworker. She was giving some details about Dr. Kim Seokjin and the oncology department. You’d met him before, very funny guy, very goofy which I guess is needed for this specialty.
“Oh for sure. I just haven’t been stuck to a specialty in some time now.” You followed her around into the nurses station and you both take some chairs.
You were a float nurse which means you were placed in different specialties where you were needed. The oncology staff lost some of it’s nurses recently so you were going to be here for a few weeks. Especially because you would also have Vic here with you.
Her full name is Victoria but she has insisted that she never wants to be called that, never stopped you from throwing it out once in a while for funnies. Vic and you were hired at the same time, she used to be a float nurse just like you but eventually took a permanent position up here. She was basically your work wife and you two would always get drinks and hang out outside of work when time allowed, so you were very excited to be with her on shift for the next few weeks.
Vic led you to the nurses’ station, where you both grabbed seats. "Yeah, but at least Seokjin’s goofy enough to keep the mood light when he can. He’s a walking dad joke at this point."
You laughed. "I’m surprised he hasn’t been banned for his humor."
"Honestly, it's only a matter of time," Vic replied, rolling her eyes playfully. "But, seriously, he’s a great doc, and Yoongi—well, you’ll see. They’re a good team." Just as she said that, a surgical resident walked by, nose buried in a chart. Vic immediately perked up, waving dramatically. "Speaking of which, here's my favorite little duckling—Yoongi!"
“What?” Yoongi’s head snapped up, his eyes darting between the two of you as if he was constantly prepared to flee.
“This is Yoongi. Seokjin’s prodigy.” She swiveled from side to side in her seat.
Yoongi shot her a side glance before flicking her shoulder. "Dr. Min,” he corrected, though there was no real heat behind it. He then extended a hand to you, his grip firm but brief. "Nice to meet you."
“Hi, I’m Y/N.”
He shook your hand but as soon as he was here he was scurrying away again. Clearly trying to escape Vic’s antics, she probably antagonized him for a long time now.
"Aw, look at him go," Vic cooed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "He pretends to be all tough, but Seokjin has him wrapped around his finger. Cute, right?”
You snorted. “Does he ever stick around long enough for a conversation, or is that a special kind of greeting?”
"He's shy. It's endearing, in a ‘I have to pull teeth to get a full sentence’ kind of way," she quipped. “Anyway, look at us—back together again.” Vic leaned back in her chair, grinning widely. “Now you can finally help me get Seokjin in line. Between the two of us, we might have a chance.”
You laughed, shaking your head. "You think I can do what an entire medical team can’t? I am excited to be working with you again. Same routine, just like the old days.”
“Until I get sick of you, of course,” Vic teased, giving you a wink.
You shot back with a smirk. “You sure you won’t want to murder me by the end of these few weeks?”
“Oh, probably,” Vic said with an exaggerated sigh. “But you’re my favorite pain in the ass, so I guess it’ll be worth it. Besides, we both know we’d end up getting drinks and complaining about everyone else anyway.”
“Touché.”
Vic showed you around the floor and gave you a better sense of how everyone works day to day and what you would be doing. You weren’t unfamiliar with everything here but being here the next couple of weeks would definitely be different than you were used to. You hadn’t gotten to see Dr. Kim anytime today, only seen him in passing and running from one room to another with Yoongi and another intern in toe. Once you had gotten everything Vic had let you lose to do what you could to help.
“Actually, how about you take this new one first.” Vic opened up a tablet for you which had a chart ready for you, “She’s going to be here for a while.”
You head up the wing as you look over her treatment plan. Stage four liver cancer which has metastasized to her bones and skin. She will be undergoing chemotherapy and radiation and some surgeries to help remove the Mets. She also is in need of around the clock pain management with the spread to her bones. You felt bad reading it, the hardest part about being in this wing is seeing how hard some people have to fight.
You make it to the room and give a light knock before entering. “Good morning.”
“Oh hello!” A woman sitting on the bed awake and engrossed in some crochet project looked at you.
“I’m Y/N, and I’ll be doing your workup today,” you said, entering the room and heading over to her monitor to start updating her chart.
“Oh, by all means. I’m ready!” She set aside her yarn and needles, sitting up straighter with an almost infectious energy that threw you off for a moment. Considering her condition, she seemed remarkably vibrant.
“So Mrs—.” You begin but she cuts you off, with her hand held up to you.
“Ji-eun is fine dear. No need for formality since you’ll see me out of my gown today.” She laughed to herself and you smiled.
“Ji-eun it is.” You give her a soft smile and start getting her vitals and update her chart. “I know you are new with us here but I wanted to start by saying you are in really good hands with Dr. Kim.”
Ji-eun grinned wide, her eyes twinkling. “Can I just say he could totally be a movie star! I couldn’t stop blushing when he walked in this morning. You should’ve seen my poor husband’s face!”
You laughed along, shaking your head. “You’re not the first patient to say that, trust me. Everyone here seems to have a soft spot for Dr. Kim.”
“That younger doctor too. Quiet but so kind.”
“Dr. Min, I just met him today, but I’ve heard good things.” You continued to type some notes into her chart.
"First day, huh?" Ji-eun asked, her eyes curious but warm.
“Not at all! Just new to the floor. I typically jump from specialty to specialty.” You start to do your physical exam of her as you continue to chat.
“Well, I guess we’ll figure all of this out together then,” she said kindly, patting your arm as you continued your physical exam. “The doctors remind me of my boys a little.”
“You have sons?” You ask and continue to examine her.
“Yes, two. Grown men now, but they come to visit me often, whenever I’m in the hospital. You’ll probably meet them soon enough.” She sighs, adjusting her gown as you need to make sure you weren’t seeing any weird discoloration. The most important thing with her condition is the presentation of new spots or jaundice present in her skin.
“I look forward to that,” you smiled. “So I am familiar with your status, Is this your first long stay in the hospital?”
Ji-eun’s face grew thoughtful as she tapped her lips. “Oh, no, no. I’ve had more surgeries than I can count, but this is the first time I’ve stayed this long. The pain’s gotten a bit too much lately—especially with this new tumor in my leg. I just needed more help. My poor husband can only do so much at home.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said sincerely. “But it sounds like you’ve got a lot of support.”
“Oh, I do,” Ji-eun nodded. “My husband’s been by my side for 33 years now, bless his heart. He and the boys will probably pop in this evening.”
“33 years? That’s incredible. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. It’s quite an adventure, let me tell you.” She sighed, you could see her eyeing your hand, looking for a ring. Probably making a mental note about one not being present. “Like I said, they come by in the evenings so you’ll probably meet the whole pack.”
“Shoot I usually work days not evenings.”
“I’ll just have to force them to come at lunch time. My boys work so much but sometimes I can convince them to show up during lunch.”
Ji-eun chatters on for a while while you continue administering her medicine and finish making notes for Dr. Kim. Talking about her husband mostly and some patients she knew at other hospitals. It still surprised you how much energy and how alive she felt compared to others you’ve seen in her condition. You would be surprised if she didn’t beat her cancer in no time with a spirit like that.
“I think I’m all done here,” you said, tucking your tablet under your arm after you take one last glance over your checklist to make sure you got everything.
“Already?” Ji-eun blinked, chewing on her lip. “Gosh, I must’ve chatted your ear off. I think I’m more nervous than I thought.”
“That’s perfectly normal.” You give her a reassuring smile, “I don’t mind the chatter, I’m usually more chatty but it’s my first day full time up here. We can be nervous together.”
Her eyes softened at that. “You know what? I’ll crochet something for you as a ‘welcome to the floor’ gift. It’ll keep me busy.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that.”
“I insist! It’s my new hobby. Keeps my hands moving while I’m sitting here.”
You smiled, touched by the offer. “Well, in that case, I love stars if you know how to make those.”
“Stars it is,” she said with a wink, already picking out a new yarn color.
You left the room feeling lighter, buoyed by Ji-eun’s positivity. She was the kind of patient that reminded you why you loved this job, the strength and spirit some people carried, even in the toughest of circumstances. You made a mental note to start your day with her room as much as possible. It was the perfect way to lift your own spirits too.
“How’d the first one go champ?” Vic caught you walking up the hall and she saddled right up next to you.
“Easy. She is so wonderful, like a breath of fresh air.” You sigh, “Can I have her as one of mine from now on?”
“By all means.” Vic saw no reason why not.
The day had been surprisingly smooth, and it felt good to finally have some time to catch your breath. You’d spent most of the day moving through rooms and getting a feel for the oncology floor. It was a slower pace compared to your usual shifts in the ER, but you welcomed it. With no major emergencies or immediate crises, you had more time to get to know the patients and the staff.
Dr. Kim had been a blur, practically a ghost for the day, absorbed in surgeries. You’d caught glimpses of him, but nothing more than that. You hoped you’d get a chance to speak with him soon, maybe figure out the best way to sync up with his preferences and routines. It was strange how he could command such attention without even being present. Everyone you spoke to—patients, nurses, and even Yoongi—seemed to speak of him with a kind of reverence.
You got to know Yoongi a little bit once he came by to work on some notes. You could tell that he was like any other surgical resident, eager to cut but he did not have the same energy as other residents you had met previously. Stark difference to the energy of Dr. Kim.
You were sitting for a moment when Vic comes and joins you at the nurses station. It was getting close to the end of your day.
“How was the wedding?” Vic asked as she settled into a chair next to you, she probably had been dying to ask. You had been talking non stop about this wedding for months now you were surprised she wasn't sick of hearing about it.
“It went great. Few hiccups but otherwise couldn’t have been more perfect. I’ll never be a maid of honor again though.” That was probably true, between this job and the months you spent working on everything with Melanie, you were glad it was over.
“Did that guy bother you? What was his name?”
The mention of Jungkook made you pause. Vic was not unfamiliar with the subject of Jungkook, in fact she probably was the next person outside of Melanie and Ash that had gotten an earful about your disdain for him. Except now, you hadn’t really unpacked what had happened between the two of you.
“Yes, Jungkook.” You clear your throat. Swiveling your chair to look at her.
“Yeah, he’s the guy you’ve had issues with for years right?”
“He’s the same old Jungkook.” You say but your tone wasn’t convincing enough for Vic.
She asks. “What no exciting update? No he’s the devil and the next time I see him I’m going to actually rip his throat out? You usually have much more to say than that.”
“Well, he wasn’t so bad this time. Annoying but we did our best. The weekend wasn’t about us.”
You hadn’t really had a chance to unpack the events of the weekend. Mostly, just file it away and never speak about it again. Except your awkward demeanor had not been lost on Vic. You glance at her as she is giving you a confused expression.
“What?” You ask her with an awkward laugh.
“I’m confused. I’ve seen you draw devil horns on pictures of him and crop him out of group photos.” She scratched her head.
You hesitated, keeping your focus on the paperwork in front of you. "He was… fine. I guess," you said, voice tight.
Vic stared at you for a long moment, her suspicion growing. “Fine? Since when is this guy ever just fine?” She let out a dry laugh. “You’ve spent years telling me every little thing he does drives you crazy—how is he suddenly fine?”
You shrugged, forcing a smile. "I don’t know. Maybe I’m over it. People grow up."
Vic’s brow shot up, unconvinced. “Over it? You? You once said you'd rather get a root canal with no anesthesia than spend five minutes with him.”
“He once said I was so annoying that he’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard for an hour than have a conversation with me. So I think the comparison was justified.”
“Not the point. I mean what happened to make you two reconcile so easily?”
“I don’t know. It’s a weekend full of love and people we care about?”
Vic wasn’t letting this go. “Come on. I know you. If nothing happened, you’d be ranting by now, probably calling him a walking disaster or comparing him to a toe fungus again.”
“Well…” You start trying to think of something but coming up short. “We just figured it out.”
“Okay…” Vic’s eyes were on you like a hawk now, watching every subtle reaction. “Let’s say you did get along. That still doesn’t explain why you’re acting so weird about it.” She raised an eyebrow, her voice dipping lower. “Did you guys talk or something? He confess his undying love for you?”
You snort at the absurdity, Jungkook nor you would never have feelings for the other in a million years. “We had a fight. We almost got kicked out so we had to come to an agreement.”
“You know you aren’t as good of a liar as you think you are.” She pokes you in your side and swat her hand away. She leans back in her chair, arms above her head, thinking. You could feel her eyes on you still as you filled out some information on your tablet. “What did you sleep with the guy?”
You paused. You tried not to show any expression but how did she get that so fast? Your silence did not go unnoticed.
Vic’s gaze sharpened as she caught your hesitation. “Oh no... Wait. I was just kidding but… No way.” She stared at you, her voice suddenly full of realization. “You didn’t…”
You get up from your seat taking your tablet with you, getting away from her even though you had no set place you were going. Vic followed very close behind you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Vic let out a disbelieving laugh, her jaw dropping. “This is... I don’t even know what this is. I mean, I knew something was up, but I didn’t expect this.” She paused, leaning in closer, her voice suddenly curious. “So... what happens now? Are you guys, like, cool now?”
You shook your head, pulling her off to the side so you can have this conversation quietly. “No, Vic. It’s not like that. We still—” You stopped, fumbling for the right words. “It didn’t fix anything. We still hate each other.”
Vic blinked, clearly confused. “Then... why did it happen?”
“Honestly, I’m not convinced I hadn’t had a stroke or something. I still don’t really believe it happened.” Which was true, thinking about it felt like it was some insane dream rather than reality.
Vic sat back, still processing what you had just admitted, her expression caught between disbelief and curiosity. “I mean, I knew there was a lot of tension between you two, but… I didn’t think that kind of tension.” She shook her head, still stunned. “So, what? Was it like, some heat-of-the-moment thing? Or was it the alcohol?”
You go ahead and walk her through the events of the night and how you two came to this conclusion. She was completely enraptured in the story. She was laughing at you through most of it. She would never believe something like this would happen to you.
“I’ve met your friend Taehyung, you should never take his advice.”
“Well… It was all heat of the moment I guess.”
Vic shook her head, grinning ear to ear. "Oh, I’m sure! Just a casual weekend of wedding duties, speeches, and—oh, you know—sleeping with your mortal enemy to ‘relieve some tension.’ That’s totally normal."
“Well it’s never happening again.”
“Oh sure that’s what they all say.” She laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulder and the two of you walk up the hall. Both of you glancing into patient rooms to make sure no one is needing anything. “Until the next time you two are in the same room, glaring daggers at each other, and—boom!”
You gave her a look and then burry your head in your hands. "Stop.”
Vic squinted at you, her grin growing wider. "Come on, YN. It sounds like you two finally found a way to stop biting each other’s heads off. Maybe instead of hating each other, you guys just needed a new... hobby?"
“Vic.” You shove her shoulder.
“I mean, what’s next?” she continued, clearly enjoying herself. “You two going to start a book club together? Go bowling on the weekends?"
“Can we let it go?” You sigh frustrated, dying to move on to something else. “I’ve never given you this hard of a time about your choice of partners.”
“Mine are not half as interesting as this.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you.
“I’m getting back to work. It’s still my first day up here after all.” You pretend to be doing something on your tablet. Vic and you both know you were caught up on work but you start walking as quickly as you can ahead of her.
“I’m just saying! This is like a plot straight out of a steamy rom-com.” She calls after you, you spinning on your heels to look at her.
Lifting your head slightly, you shot her a look. “If this was a rom-com, it’d be the worst one ever made. Trust me, there’s no happy ending here.”
With that she leaves you alone, for now. You know this would not be the last time you would be hearing about it. There will be nothing to tell her though, there is no continuation of any of this in the future for you and Jungkook. You never saw the guy hardly ever so it didn’t matter.
You weren’t the only one who had pushed it down to a far place of your mind. Jungkook had found himself back at work this week. Jungkook’s week had been relentless. Since coming back to work after the wedding, it felt like he was buried under a mountain of tasks. As an associate at the law firm, he was used to the pressure, but the past few days had been especially grueling. He was juggling meetings with clients, writing complaints, filing motions, and researching for a high-stakes case. It was enough to make his head spin.
Today was no different. He had barely sat down for lunch, only quick bites between phone calls and endless stacks of documents. His current focus was on one of the senior partners, Mr. Kang, who was preparing for a major trial next week. Being chosen to help him was a big deal, considering Kang was known to be a tough and exacting lawyer. Jungkook had been working late nights, hoping his effort would earn him the partner’s respect and maybe a spot on more of these high-profile cases in the future.
Jungkook had just finished organizing the evidence and compiling a detailed witness list. He had also prepped several key points for Kang’s opening and closing statements, which, to his disappointment, the partner had dismissed with a wave of his hand.
“Here is some of the prep I did for your trial, Mr. Kang,” Jungkook said, placing a thick folder of notes on his boss’s desk.
Kang, a no-nonsense kind of guy with sharp, calculating eyes, barely looked up from the file in front of him. “Good work, Jungkook. I’ll handle the opening and closing. But you’ve done well with the prep. You’re dismissed.”
Jungkook blinked in surprise. Usually, when you did a good job in Kang’s eyes, he’d keep you around for more work, even if it meant staying well into the night. But today, he was letting him go. Jungkook felt a mix of relief and pride as he grabbed his bag from his desk, quietly wondering if the partner had finally acknowledged his hard work.
Just as Jungkook was about to leave the office, Jimin, caught sight of Jungkook's rush.
“You leaving?” Jimin asked, leaning against the doorframe with an eyebrow cocked.
“Yeah, I’ve got plans tonight, and I’m already late,” Jungkook replied, shoving his laptop into his bag with a little more force than necessary. The tension of the day was finally lifting, and the thought of being out of the office and away from the piles of paperwork felt like freedom.
“Mr. Kang actually let you go early?” Jimin raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Man, he must really like you. That guy doesn’t let anyone out this early, especially not if they’ve got a big case coming up.”
“I’m just as surprised as anyone,” Jungkook said with a half-smile, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll take it, though. It’s late enough as is.”
Jimin chuckled. “Yeah, it’s a rarity around here. Have a good night, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jungkook gave a quick nod and started walking down the hall, eager to leave the stuffy atmosphere of the office behind. But Jimin called out after him, making Jungkook pause for a moment, glancing back.
“Hey, you still coming out next week, right?” Jimin asked. “I already got you a ticket.”
Jungkook hesitated for a split second, then smirked. “Yeah, I’ll be there,” he called back, waving as he walked toward the elevator. “See you.”
As the doors closed behind him and the elevator descended, Jungkook took a deep breath. The tension of the office was still heavy on his shoulders, but the thought of a night out with Jimin and some friends gave him a bit of lightness. He was long overdue for a chance to unwind. After the wedding and the work this last week, he was burnt out.
Stepping outside, the crisp evening air hit his face. It wasn’t too cold, but the cool breeze was a welcome contrast to the stale office air he’d been trapped in all day. The city felt alive around him, the hum of cars and distant chatter of pedestrians making him feel momentarily free from the piles of work waiting for him the next day. Jungkook checked the time, 8:06.
Jungkook took the opportunity to just listen to some music and walk to a convenience store he knew was nearby. His brother was texting about something and he hadn’t had a chance to answer all day. He needed a moment of peace for himself before he needed to get going. He knew exactly what snacks he wanted to get, and maybe a ramen bowl for when he gets home later. Jungkook grabbed some water bottles from the fridge and turned to go to the snacks. Almost slamming into someone else coming around the aisle corner.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you stammered, stepping back to avoid the near collision. Your eyes darted up, and surprise flooded your face when you saw who it was.
“Y/N?” Jungkook asked, surprised to see you. Especially not in a convenience store he frequented so often.
“Oh.” You were feeling a similar feeling, this was the convenience store closest to your place. “What are you doing here?”
He pulled one earbud out, his mind still processing the unexpected run-in. “I, uh, my firm’s just across the street.” He gestured vaguely behind him with the water bottle, realizing how lame that sounded. “I come here sometimes after work.”
You shifted the snacks in your arms, and Jungkook couldn’t help but notice how you seemed just as off-balance as he was. “I live right around the corner.” You said, filling the silence, your voice calm but your eyes wide with surprise.
“Oh.” Jungkook mouth hung in an ‘o’ shape. Jungkook had no idea you lived over here, maybe could have found a different place to go if he had known you come here. “What are the snacks for?”
“Uhh, Ash is coming over.”
“Cool.” Jungkook paused, he really had no idea what to say. “Tell her I said hi I guess.”
“Yeah.”
You let the awkward silence hang between the both of you for a moment before you decided to brush past him. You had nothing to say to him really so you should just go about your business. It felt strange, you just talked about him today and now here he was. This last week has been the most you had seen him in years. You get a drink from the fridges, you eyes a little too focused on if you spot Jungkook in your peripherals.
Jungkook just continued on his way and got a few snacks and the ramen bowl he wanted. Making his way to the counter where he lined up behind you. You knew he was behind you but said nothing as you paid for your items. Jungkook felt like maybe he should say something but what was lost of on. He hadn’t really thought about the wedding and what transpired at all but now it was at the front of his mind. Should he bring it up? Leave it alone? Would probably just cause a fight.
You got the bags with your stuff step outside. A little shaken by the encounter, you fumble with your stuff making sure you get your keys out when Jungkook follows too soon out of the convenience store. You both look at each other simultaneously, both silent.
You shuffled your stuff in your hands, unsure if you should say anything, but Jungkook beat you to it. “Do you need walked home? It's pretty dark.” His offer caught you off guard.
“Uh, I’m okay,” you said after a pause, glancing down the street. “It’s really close by.” You pointed behind you, in the general direction of your apartment, hoping that would end the conversation.
“I uhh…” He cleared his throat. “I also need to head that way to my car.”
Of course he does, you thought.
So you nod and just start walking. Jungkook comes up close to the next of you. He felt weird trailing behind but this also feels just as weird and uncomfortable. He was standing as close as he could to the edge of the sidewalk without stepping into the street. You almost instinctively kept your arms closely tucked to your sides. The walk to your place really wasn’t that far but it felt like an eternity now.
What were you supposed to say in a situation like this?
“You work at a law firm?” The question erupted out of you.
“Yeah?”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“I just… I don’t know. I never pegged you as a lawyer.” Which was true, you never knew he went to law school. To be fair you didn’t care what Jungkook did at all most of the time.
“I changed my mind I guess.” Jungkook shrugged. He didn’t know what to say to that. The last time you really knew each other, back in college, he hadn’t planned on law school yet.
That was a decision that came later.
Silence fell between the two of you again. It got Jungkook thinking, thinking about what happened between the two of you. He didn’t feel guilty but he felt like maybe it needed to be brought up.
Jungkook sighed, “So, about last week…”
“We don’t have to talk about it.” You cut him off with a bitter tone, harsher than you had intended.
“And what if I wanted too?” Jungkook bit back, all too harsh.
“You do?” You glance at him, and he seems to be genuine. “Oh you do.” You retreat back into yourself and feel somewhat bad now, not realizing that maybe he would like to talk about it.
Something in him did want to talk about it, it wasn’t how he normally acted and he’s been under so much stress lately. Maybe it would feel good to talk it out?
“I was just going to ask if you were okay,” he continued, keeping his tone softer. His thoughts churned, wondering if you’d even believe him, if you’d think this was just some routine apology or him trying to cover his tracks. “And to say, I don’t usually do stuff like that. You might think otherwise, but that’s not who I am.” The words felt heavier than he’d intended, but they were true.
He glanced at you, searching for something in your expression, anything to tell him how you were really feeling. All he found was that guarded look he’d seen so many times before—the one that kept him at a distance.
“I’m honestly too busy for hookups,” he added, a bitter chuckle escaping him, “so it surprised me more than anyone. So I just wanted to ask if you were okay and get that off my chest I guess.”
You were silent, you actually look at his face now, he seemed to be serious? Sincere? You felt like crawling out of your skin because he was being so real. It was weird, and clearly your face was telling Jungkook the same thing. Your expression looked uncomfortable and confused.
“What?” he asked and raised an eyebrow to you.
“You’re just being so… considerate,” you said, shivering in your spot. “I’m so uncomfortable right now.”
Jungkook almost laughed, but it came out as more of a sigh. He wasn’t used to this either, wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable, and certainly not with you. But for some reason, it mattered more to him than it should. “Well, you can think whatever you like, I guess. I just wanted to get that out.” He tried to shrug it off, but the weight of the moment hung between you, making it impossible to dismiss.
“Well…” You start, “I’m not thinking anything. If I’m being honest it’s not really me either and it felt really weird for me. I’m okay though but I would like to pretend it never happened. Umm… are you okay?”
Jungkook paused, “Yeah this is really weird.” He let out a small laugh, “I am okay and I also want to pretend it never happened.” Jungkook felt like he lifted a small weight he didn’t even know was on his shoulders.
“Great. Now stop being so nice asshole, it’s freaking me out.” You glance and you had arrived to your building so quickly and you couldn’t be more thankful you couldn't take this awkwardness any longer. “This is me.” You point to the building next to you.
“Nice.” Jungkook said it but it was more like he had no idea how to respond. Your building was right next to the parking garage he used for his car. “Goodnight.”
“Yeah, goodnight.” You basically scurried up the steps and let yourself into the front door as fast as you could. You felt like you needed a shower to get Jungkook words out of your head. It felt so wrong, he was so nice and considerate about it.
It would have been easier if Jungkook was a dick about the whole thing.
Jungkook made sure you got in okay and then started his way to the parking garage to his car. He felt better but also so strange. Maybe he would have felt better if you two had made a whole scene. It was so weird being so... mature. Before Jungkook could think too much on it, his phone was buzzing in his pocket.
The words ‘Mom’ were written across the screen, and he answered.
“Hi Mom.” Jungkook barely got any words out before the other line erupted with sound.
“Jeon Jungkook I cannot believe you are late! We have been waiting for you to arrive all evening and you are nowhere to be found!”
“I’m coming mom, just barely got off of work. I am on my way now.” he started to scurry because even though she was yelling at him now, he won’t hear the end of it in person.
Maybe he should have been paying closer attention to his texts.
。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭ Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter Taglist!: @akkhddhfairys @njcxlewxrld @kooklovee @ericawantstoescape @pitchblack0309 @rpwprpwprpwprw @lanie97 @httpjeonlicious @jollis87 @oopscoop @rinkud @deepikhaprakash @chuuritoz @jkslvsnella @eisthv @bangatanily @smwhrinthehaze @jjkologys @nono13bnd @smoljjks 。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭
a/n: Honestly a touch worried about this chapter (not that it’s bad but just because like it the first step into the main story so the vibe is slightly different?? I hope everyone enjoys it 🩵😭
#jungkook#bts#jeon jungkook#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x oc#jungkook x you#jungkook fic recs#jeon jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook fic#jeon jungkook fic recs#bangtan#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts x reader#taehyung#jimin#jin#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk fic#jjk x reader#jungkook x y/n#smartkookiee#wounds we never show#wwns#namjoon#kim seokjin#doctor kim seokjin
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Little Red's Desires (Ace x Reader NSFW)
A/N: HIHIHIHI This was a trade originally done for @raddelusionaldive and her oc Harper for a trade in my server!! I had a lot of fun writing this I always love writing for ace!! Pairing: Ace x AFAB reader CW: NSFW MINORS DNI, modern au but like that's barely relevant, car sex, hair pulling (ace gets his pulled), p in v sex, riding, creampie, uh I think that's all! • masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Costume parties- one of the few events where it's acceptable, almost required, to dress up as the most outlandish things and get away with it. The ridiculous, the elaborate, the downright absurd. And naturally, you and Ace had to participate. You would of course show off these outfits at a random house party you were invited to by one of your friends.
The freckled man had chosen a werewolf costume with faux fur paws, clip on ears, a collar with a little charm dangling from the center, and the fangs- cheap and poorly fitted, but perfectly Ace. His all-black outfit was decorated with touches of gold accents that shined under the dim lights of the party, and the piece de resistance, his coat was merely there to cover his arms, leaving his chest out there for the world to admire.
Meanwhile, you had opted to match him with a Little Red Riding Hood outfit. Innocence and fierceness all wrapped up in a crimson cloak and a flash of red lipstick. You were adjusting your ensemble when a familiar presence broke you out of your focus.
When you looked up, there Ace was, already grinning, plastic fangs glinting under the dim lights. Ace had arrived to the party fashionably late, though you knew that he would be held up by his job. However, this knowledge did not stop the smile that graced your face at the sight of him finally making his appearance. He prowled over, eyes fixed on her like you were a prize he had been hunting for hours.
“Well look at you, Red,” he drawled, leaning close, fangs bared in a shameless grin. “Pretty sure I’m supposed to be the one doing the hunting tonight, but here you are aiming straight for my heart with that outfit.”
You couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped past your lips. “Not my fault the big bad wolf decided to leave his chest out,” you teased, your fingers lightly toying with the fur on his coat. “Makes you an easy target, don’t you think?”
The banter came naturally like it always does when it comes to you two, but tonight the costumes added a layer of intrigue to the whole exchange, bringing out a whole new side of you. Throughout the entire night, you caught him stealing glances at you, finding excuses to always be by your side despite your respective friends pulling you in separate directions. He was just a guy in a werewolf costume yearning for the girl who had chosen to be his Red.
He caught you later on in the night, approaching you as you sipped a mystery concoction that was sure to give you a hangover the next morning.
“So, Red Riding Hood, what are you doing around these parts?” His fingers settled under your chin, playfully tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Didn’t anyone tell you there’s a wolf on the loose?”
You raised an eyebrow, scarlet lips curving into a daring smile. “Well, maybe I was looking for trouble.” You poked his chest, finger lingering on his warm skin. “But it seems like I found something… softer.”
Ace chuckled, clearly delighted by the back and forth. “Soft? Alright, I’ll let that side.” He placed his hand dramatically over his heart, pretending to be wounded by your words. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Red.”
“Cute?” You scoffed, “Pretty bold for a guy in cheap fangs.”
His mouth quirked up as he tilted his head, giving you a good, hard look that sent a thrill through her. His fingers traced from your chin down your neck and across your collarbone until they found the edge of your cloak, his thumb tracing along the fabric. “Cheap fangs, maybe. But I make ‘em work, don’t I?”
Ace was way too good at this and you found yourself at a loss for words for the first time that night. In a bid to keep yourself grounded, you glanced down at the drink in his hand and plucked it away, drinking the contents before stacking the now-empty cup under your existing drink.
“Hey!” He protested, reaching for it, but it was futile as the drink was long gone. “You-Red, you’re ruthless.”
You just laughed, both at the action and the way he almost broke character all over stealing his booze. “Maybe I can be a little dangerous too. Besides, wolves shouldn’t be drinking. They might forget what they’re hunting.”
He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, sending a shiver down your spine. Ace leaned in, lips lightly caressing your ear as he muttered to you, “maybe so. Tell you what, if you’re so dangerous, why don’t you show me?”
You could swear her heart stopped just for a beat at the proposition, her mind running through all the different scenarios he could possibly be thinking – of course most of them involving much much less clothing. You gnawed at your lip and turned to face him meeting his black eyes as you slid away from him, extending your hand to his, fingers outstretched in an invitation. “Now why would I reveal my tricks so early in the night?” you asked. “Dance with me, and maybe I’ll show you.”
Without a second thought, Ace slipped his hand into yours as you pulled him close, a grin of satisfaction curving your lips.
The music thrummed in the background, loud enough to drown out any conversation you were having from curious ears. Ace began to dance with you, spinning you around in a way that had you praying for dear life that your drink didn't spill under the excuse that he just wanted to see the way your dress twirls. You were in their own little world, almost forgetting that you were in a crowded party.
Every now and then, he’d lean down, whispering nonsense in your ear such as remarks about how he was definitely a much more terrifying wolf than the other guy across the room, or complaining about the itchiness of the fake fur gloves. And you would laugh, the sound sometimes drawing glances from others, but you hardly noticed, not when you were with him. It was nice that you could revel in the silliness of the holiday, the harmless play, and flirt with lines that you may not be able to say on an ordinary day.
Ace let out a dramatic sigh, his hands settling on your hips as his eyes raked over you. “Guess we’re going to have to start coming to more of these things if it means seeing you like this,” he murmured, almost to himself.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the wolf here is starting to look a little lovesick.”
He leaned closer, feigning innocence as his fingers traced your side. “Nah, just… captivated is all.” His hand squeezed your side, emphasizing his words. “Can’t blame me, can you?”
You didn’t respond, instead, you slipped a hand up his chest, reaching his neck and playing with the collar that adorned it. You eyed the accessory dangling from the center, tracing your fingers along the ridges until you gripped the charm hanging from the center, making eye contact with Ace once more. Before he could ask what you were doing, you tugged him in, brushing your lips softly over his. Ace’s eyes widened for just a moment before his hands slipped around your waist, pulling you in as he responded by capturing your lips in a slow, searing kiss. You barely heard the delighted whistles of encouragement from the onlookers, and you only broke apart when the playful shout of “get a room!” carried over the music.
You two pulled apart, slightly breathless, smiling at each other as Ace took initiative and took ahold of your hand, gently tugging you. “Looks like that's our cue, isn't it?” he said, backing up as he started to guide you out of the house.
You slipped out of the crowded room, past all of the laughter and thumping music, into the quiet of a hallway where Ace’s pace quickened, weaving the two of you through the partygoers with you right at his side, laughing as you reached the door. Once outside, Ace pulled you through the cars parked out front until he found his, fumbling in his pocket for his keys until he was able to unlock the door with a beep. The two of you wasted no time. You climbed into the backseat over Ace, settling onto his lap as his hands latched around your waist, gripping tightly.
It was suffocatingly close in the car, air dense with tension. Each breath seemed to grow shorter as Ace’s hands roamed over your body, trailing up your sides, slipping beneath the edge of your dress, claiming whatever they found.
“You got the look down,” you murmured, voice low as you leaned in and captured his lips in a deep kiss. You pulled back briefly and adjusted in his lap, feeling him already hard against you, straining against the fabric. “Big bad wolf… but I don't think you’re as scary as you let on,” you said as you rolled your hips against his, pulling a groan from the man.
Ace’s laugh was a rough, throaty rumble as his fingers tightened their hold on you, pushing you down as he rolled his up into you. “You’re in dangerous territory, Red,” he huffed out.
His hands slid further up your dress with a slow, savoring touch, fingertips dancing along your thighs and up until a hand settled between your legs, fingers pressing into the soaked spot of your panties. His gaze darkened, lips curling into a smug smirk as he slid your panties aside, prodding at the wetness.
“Eager aren’t you?” he murmured, voice dripping with a rough-edged satisfaction. He removed his fingers and his hand reached for his mouth, taking in the digits and tasting your essence. His fingers popped out of his mouth, and he smirked at the lust-blown look on your face as you witnessed the action.
Wordlessly, he reached down and fumbled with the buckle of his pants, metal softly clinking as he freed himself from his pants. You looked down and saw the tip glistening with precum, aching to be inside of you. He lifted you up enough to position himself under you, the tip smearing your arousal against him, and he pushed in. deep. The head of his cock pushed through your entrance and he filled you up, stretching you around him and reaching places you didn’t think was possible.
His hips met yours with a sharp thrust, and he set a punishing pace that left you gasping and scrambling for balance. Ace’s mouth found your neck, his hot breath teasing against the sensitive skin before his teeth scraped down to your shoulder. The strap of your dress slipped down under his rough hands until, with a sharp tug, it gave way, the delicate sound of tearing fabric swallowed by a low and hungry groan.
Your top slipped, baring one breast to the cool air, and he wasted no time, his mouth latching around your nipple, tongue swirling and teeth nipping at the sensitive bud, pulling a series of breathy moans from your throat. Your back arched, pressing further into him and his other hand gripped your clothed breast, leaving faint impressions of his fingers as he devoured every part of you that he could reach.
All of the sensations- the suffocating cramped space of the car, the way his cock is deliciously thrusting up into you, his mouth and hand on your breasts- it was almost too much, and you were sent into a spiral, broken gasps and sobs slipping past your lips the longer he went on.
Confidence fueled by the wild intensity of the moment had your fingers threading through Ace’s hair, pulling back with a harsh tug. His hips faltered for a moment as he moaned out, surrendering as you pushed him back against the worn leather seat, reveling in the way his body just yielded to you. You took the moment to breathe as you looked into his hungry eyes and took over.
“Fuck-” Ace panted out. “Look’s like I-I’m the prey tonight, hah,” Ace continued in an attempt to tease you. But you silenced him with a sharp glare, muttering a ‘shut up’ as you set your own rhythm, bouncing on his cock in a way that made him let out a breathy groan.
His hands found your waist, guiding you and helping you find the perfect angle as you rode him, the sound of the car creaking under your movements fills the air alongside your shared gasps. The way he filled you wasn’t enough. There was a hunger growing in you that you needed to satisfy. You gripped his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin as you moved faster, chasing your high with every roll of your hips.
His eyes were glued to your form, drinking in the way you lost yourself in the haze, and the only sounds leaving his lips now were breathy moans and low curses as you inflicted more pleasure upon him.
“God, you feel so good,” he groaned out, voice strained. “Keep going, just like that.”
The urgency in his voice was utterly intoxicating, every syllable that he utters pushing you further into the bliss you craved. You could feel the pleasure building inside of you and you tightened around him, feeling him twitch in response and giving your hips a squeeze.
And then it happened. The dam of pleasure broke, euphoria crashing over you as you surrendered to the waves of ecstasy. You cried out, the sound raw and unfiltered as your body began to quiver, muscles spasming and clenching around him. The rush was all-consuming, a blinding light that left you trembling and gasping for breath.
The sensation of your release pulsed like wildfire, your hole creaming around him, slick and warm. You could feel his breath hitching in his throat, his hands gripping your waist tighter as he guided you through your orgasm.
“Shit, Red…” he breathed, voice trembling as he felt your walls clench tighter around him, squeezing him like a vice. His thrusts became frantic, each push somehow deeper than the last, and with a final surge of energy, he followed you over the edge, his own release crashing over him as his cock pulsed inside of you, coating your insides with ropes of milky white cum.
As your highs intertwined, the world outside faded into oblivion. You collapsed against his sweat-slicked body, both of you breathing heavily as you took a moment to recover. You were the first to break the silence as you remembered that you had snuck off from the party, muttering, “you think anyone noticed?”
Ace let out a sigh, looking down at you with a smirk. “Yeah, they probably noticed,” he replied, placing a kiss on your temple. “We should probably clean up before someone comes knocking at my window saying I'm blocking their car.”
You giggled and nodded, capturing his lips in a chaste kiss before attempting to pull yourself together, despite your chest hanging out due to your ripped dress. That didn’t bother you too much though, rather you were more focused on how your limbs now feel like jelly, courtesy of the man in the wolf costume right beneath you.
What a Happy Halloween indeed.
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Feyd thoughts from Fenring scene
I was sharing thoughts to a friend while rewatching the Feyd and Fenring scene and figured I'd share it here too, it's my blog innit.
He's walking on his own in a completely empty corridor. Upon being followed he ambushes and pulls a knife, meaning he immediately assumes he's in danger. Calm and collected attitude at this prospect, clearly not his first time.
But he also doesn't toy with her, doesn't threaten her beyond asking about her presence, he's not showing any sadistic traits.
He openly asks if they've met because he recognises her, isn't being coy.
Instead of being violent, he tells her the rules: 'You're not allowed in this section', meaning at least he knows not to be openly hostile to guests.
He's suspicious she got past the guards. He asks about that in a higher pitch, but extremely bland face. He doesn't sound upset or happy or angry. More like low key worried.
From there Margot uses the voice.
She reveals he's shunning his own celebrations, AND he refuses to say why despite being asked with suggestive voice.
He immediately recognises the use of the voice on him and calls her a Bene Gesserit. How? He doesn't answer when she asks what makes him say that. We have to keep in mind that his mother (who he killed) was BG, and since we don't know when she died, it's possible he received some training from her.
He instead says he dreamt about Margot, harkening back to Chani dreams from Paul. Meaning we can safely assume he's just as plagued with semi-visions as Paul was in Dune 1 before going to Arrakis, and we can safely assume that's not common knowledge.
Immediately goes 'Don't mock me woman' when she teases him. BUT crucially, she says "a pleasant dream I hope?" which is not mockery but closer to flirting? It's like he genuinely takes that as a literal tease, when the actual teasing is when she says "I wouldn't dare!" which he doesn't comment on, maybe because he's used to many forms of grovelling.
He also reacts as if the voice is a physical pressure, like when you come down on a plane and your ears get blocked, and tries to shake it off:
Again with 'I know your BG tricks'
Margot asks, again, and gets no reply, again. She even says "tell me" in a normal voice. There is no cut or weird editing afterwards, so we can assume that Feyd didn't answer either time he was asked.
Instead he takes his bearing and looks around. He is not aggressive or panicked when he admits to not recognising the place.
Dude is designed to blend into his surroundings. Bonkers he doesn't wear gloves at this stage.
Risk taking : he steps unprompted in the door entrance, and she then says "come to me, kneel," etc. BUT we know he KNOWS about the BG tricks, so we can suppose that he's actually making the decision to go in despite knowing full well she can and will control him.
There's plenty of hints that he may still be heavily under her charm, but there's also evidence he can resist the voice she uses on him (he never answers her repeated questions, tries to fight it off).
He never reacts agressively. He says "where are you going?" with some heat when she leaves though, which to me hints at loneliness. He was all alone avoiding every harkonnen under the moon on his birthday despite being the king of the night, meets a random chick he dreamt about, and now she leaves? Spiced suggested though he may ask because he's not used to people leaving without being dismissed. But imo these can blend.
I lean towards Feyd being quite resistant to the voice because they sent Margot in the first place. Yes, Mohiam wants a child made, but in her excuses, she does't say "I want him bred". Instead she says she's a motherly figure and he might have killed her because he killed his mom. If the voice was such a perfect tool of control, that wouldn't really be an issue, especially once you have him under the Gom Jabar.
There may be an element of "These men [Paul and Feyd] are one generation away from the KH and can't be toyed with carelessly".
He also killed his BG mother, which means he's capable of killing a sister and not any small fry.
So they send a sexy woman to woo him and yet she still has to ask multiple times about what he knows of the BG.
Regarding his dreams, it's also possible Feyd is so compliant and keen to follow Margot because he might have foreseen a freaky good time with her.
One is left to wonder if he looks at Mwaddib walking into the throne room with such intensity not because he's hot for him (he doesn't yet know it's Paul), but because he may have SEEN this scene in dreams. We know Paul was very affected by the spice in the air and food on Arrakis. We also know he made frequent false visions (Jamis helps but it ends up being Chani. Chani and him cut ambiguously in the killing scene. Seeing himself in Chani's place in the final combat scene...) So we can also imagine Feyd may be overconfident in taking in the Emperor's challenge because he's dreamt of this too. Just spitballing.
The BG call him a sociopath with a side of hollywood competency. He has a bit of the BBC Sherlock and Hannibal Lecter disease. He should not be as tame or as competent as he's described and shown if he had the full disorder.
It's very interesting to look at the Fenring scene with sociopathic traits in mind and see how they apply or don't.
He's not getting his need for validation avoiding the party, but he just survived an attempt on his life by his Dear Uncle before getting his freedom dangled in front of him. Lots on his mind.
He's not prone to anger outburst in general. His behaviour isn't very erratic either. Both of these classic traits were probably curb-stomped by the need to fit the mold imposed by the Na-Baron position.
But he definitely has a high sense of his superiority and is opinionated. He speaks up unprompted during the Baron's interview, and again behind the Emperor with 'he's bluffing'
High propensity for violence: check. Whole film, basically. He can be prompted by anger (against Rabban), perceived threat (arena), reactive/defensive (against Margot trailing him). Violence in reaction to fear isn't shown.
Difficulty maintaining relationships : the only people he seems fond of are his once shown, once mentioned pets he brings with him. His family relationships are what they are, and he has no friend to go to on his Birthday.
Generally fearful, vulnerable to anxiety and rejection, easy to humiliate : what a cincher. This is him reacting defensively to Margot's flirting. The BG say fear of humiliation is one of his levers, and if you give him a strong attachment to an honour code, it's very easy to manipulate.
IMO this feeds into his displays of vanity (black teeth, tailor made pretty pets). Also since black is seen as a rich and beautiful colour on their world, his all black outfits with clean cuts may not be as muted as we think they are.
the end... for now.
#feyd rautha#feyd rautha harkonnen#house harkonnen#margot fenring#gom jabbar#dune 2#dune#dune meta#dune part two#dune part 2#paul atreides#character analysis#sociopathy#bene gesserit
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MOON BOYS X READER
₊˚.⋆🕯️⋆⁺. KISSING PREFS : 421 WRDS
A/N : These are based off of personality and guess what? I’m finally writing romantic relationship content! Yay!!! I swear I’ve only been avoiding it because my brain is not the most knowledgeable on romantic relationships SPARE ME PLEASE
STEVEN GRANT .
Although Steven does enjoy the more passionate kisses you two share, he’s such a sucker for gentle kisses or even little pecks.
He’ll give you them anytime, anywhere.
Sometimes it’ll be a silent reminder that he loves you, that he’s here for you, he thinks you look nice, etc. This man will find any and every excuse to give you a soft kiss.
His favorite place to kiss is your nose; after he does, he’ll stare right at you with those big brown eyes and give you a gentle smile. Sometimes even nuzzle against your nose with his, or butt his forehead against yours.
MARC SPECTOR .
Marc will never deny a few minutes away from a crowd or away from his phone if it means you’ll share a loving, deep kiss with him.
He’ll kiss you in different positions almost every time you kiss. On his lap, laying under him, laying on him, sitting next to him, anything.
However he’s very fond of having you sit on his thighs or in his lap. He loves being close when you two kiss.
There won’t be a single time where he doesn’t wrap his arms up under yours to pull you flush against him. He might wrap his arms around your waist and have his hand rest on the small of your back so he can push you closer.
He will do anything you think of, or he thinks of himself, to make you invade his personal space to the furthest extent. It makes him feel like he’s protecting you and showing you all his love for you just with his lips.
JAKE .
Jake loves to give you hickeys and kiss you as a “surprise gift” while you do something.
His target is usually your neck or shoulders, but depending on how you’re sitting or standing, he won’t hesitate to give you a good, deep kiss.
As an example, if you’re cooking, he’ll do the generic move of wrapping his arms around you from behind.
If you’re reading, he’ll pull the book out of your hand or push your hands down so he can get to your face.
But… he loves to add his own touch.
He might tell you that you smell good, that he loves the way your skin feels against his lips, maybe even mutter something in Spanish too quiet for you to hear.
He can get a bit handsy as well, but nothing too suggestive. The most he’ll do when he gives you surprise kisses is squeeze your thighs, waist, or hips.
#moon knight#moon knight x reader#moon knight x y/n#moon knight x you#steven grant x reader#steven grant x y/n#steven grant x you#marc spector#marc spector x reader#marc spector x you#marc spector x y/n#jake lockley#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley x you#jake lockley x y/n#oscar isaac#oscar isaac characters#preferences#androgynous reader#gender neutral reader#romantic#romantic relationships#bambooboopref#bambooboofic#bamboobooshark#holy shit thats a lot of tags#moon knight preferences
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Bllk boys X Affectionate! Extroverted! Reader (Part 2)
Featuring: Hyoma Chigiri, Reo Mikage, Seishiro Nagi
Here's the masterlist and part one with Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira and Rin Itoshi :)
A/n: Please enjoy reading! Comments & reblogs are appropriated. (◍•ᴗ•◍)
~Hyoma Chigiri~
• Okay so
• As we all know our princess/red panther can be a little too sassy, even if the situation doesn't demand so. Flashbacks to "Are you even necessary?"
• So at first, he's more annoyed than anything, and don't get me wrong gorgeous it's not because of you.
• It's just...everybody is all over him from the start you know? He's been a prodigy from the start y'know so because of that people really were clingy and because of his gorgeous hair.
• "Hyomaaaa! Congratulations on your win! :D"
"Oh my God- okay. Who told you come? And you told you to call me by my first name?"
• But seeing your unfeigned disappointment at that really forced him to reconsider his words. You really did seem sad at that. Maybe...you really did like him.
• From that point, Chigiri tried his best to be not make off hand comments about your affection and you in general
• Everyone notices his change in attitude around you, and jokes about their mean princess finding love (≧▽≦)
• When you get comfortable enough to show physical affection to him, he low-key is flustered about it and acts a bit mean about it but loves it.
• "Helloooo! I missed you SO much!" *hugs*
"I was gone for like 2 days, wonder what will happen if it was more."
• Chigiri is never flustered by compliments though. He is used to it, but...it feels just a tab bit warmer whenever you say a complimentary compared to literally anyone else.
• "Your hair just is soooo silky! ♡"
"I know- but um, thank you."
• Takes your hand in his whenever you guys are out! With the lame excuse of that you don't "try to disturb random strangers" if you ask with a slight pink tint.
• But lets you drag him wherever you want by the arm. Just don't ask him about it later. He just likes seeing you giggle and smile. Nothing to see here.
• THAT HAIR THOUGH. He is soooo low-key about it and you're so excited about it confuses him.
•Yet he decides against to question you about it 'cause he doesn't want you to lose whatever sanity you have left.
• It doesn't stop him from indirectly teasing you about it though. And just exactly how he does it? By denying you to do anything about it.
• "Let me pleaseeeee do your hair! I'll do anything!"
"...no."
"Anything!"
"Buy me lunch tommorow."
"Deal!"
• Even though he kinda does act like a princess...he really does get grumpy when you say it :P
•But overall, he loves you and will give in to every request of yours anyway. maybe demanding some kisses too?
~Mikage Reo~
• Another one whose a bit sceptical at first, however his reasons are valid. He's a rich guy who doesn't wanna date just because of his status and money.
• Reo wants someone to excite him, to make him desire that person and that person happened to be you.
• Understood your intentions are pure very quickly. He is good at reading people alright? He was raised to be a business man after all.
• Is not at all ashamed to return your affections as soon as he understands that. You're just that adorable and sweet!
• However, even though he understands you're practically glued to him like glue, he tries not to get too attached. Poor boy doesn't wanna get in depression again.
• By the way, he fails miserably at that. You can't get rid of him now. Good luck :P don't worry he treats ya right
• And don't get him wrong, Reo's VERY responsible with money. Really-! See his financial and economic knowledge!
• But he can't help spoil you with your favorite food and gifts, you're so good to him! Just look at the thing for 0.2 seconds and you'll get it.
• You have to sometimes stop him though. I'm serious, if you don't want him to get bankrupt then please stop him sometimes. 🙏🏻
• "I thought I told you to return that bag ┐( ̄ヘ ̄)┌"
"So what-? I returned it no?"
"AND YOU BROUGHT 2 NEW-"
• Possesive as hell though. Like he doesn't mind your extrovert nature and being a social butterfly.
• But he's a bit scared you know? Scared that you would find find someone better than him and leave him. yes fight me but he has definitely not recovered from his trauma.
• Reo has this little habit that he comes behind you, puts his both hands on your eyes with a "Guess who?" He does is whenever he can sneak behind you.
• Knows the answer will the same everytime. But everytime he does it, he gets a bit of satisfaction- like of course it's him, who else it would be?
• Loves it whenever you show affection in front of others for the same reason, that yes this amazing person loves me very much and you can never have 'em the way I do.
• Reo treats you sooo well, never letting you lift a finger. He doesn't do this just because he doesn't want you to leave, he does it because he geuninely wants to.
• Since he gives in to your every demand and is not even subtle about it everyone tells this guy to calm the hell down when it comes to you, and play it cool cause girls don't like clingy or easy guys-
• And he ignores them all- you're such a darling for him of course he'll give you whatever you ask for! You also kinda like being spoiled so it's a win-win situation.
• Can't help but be anxious whenever you interact with Isagi especially. For the love of God please don't leave especially for isagi.
~Seishiro Nagi~
• Hmm. Lemme think.
• Yeah. Nagi doesn't care at first. Unlike the others, he isn't intrigued or annoyed by your behaviour. He just is nonchalant towards it.
• It's too much of a hassle for him to feel those emotions that drains his already low energy for someone he doesn't know yet.
• "Nagi! Can we go to that café I was talking 'bout before?"
"... It's too far..."
"I'll pick you up!"
"Yeah, cool."
• But your efforts to spend time with him to make him like ya prove successful, he is first curious why are you so joyous by being with him?
• To liking how easy you are to talk to and a comfort to hang out with. You're always talkative even more since he's engrossed in his games and Nagi enjoys hearing your passionate thoughts and even mindless ramblings.
• Surprisingly good at returning physical affection obviously in a lazy way, but still makes some effort in it. Does that even make sense?
• Whenever you hug him on bed he just lays on top of you like a kid, with one arm supporting you and other holding his phone/switch.
• "You're too heavy!!!"
"But you were the one who said I'm a baby, babies are supposed to be small right?..."
"I meant that because of your personality not literally, you 190 cm baby!"
• Wants to just lean on your body when he's tired whole walking because giving a piggyback ride is not an option apparantly, and he is more disappointed than he should be.
• Just KNOWS that you find him cute and can't deny him anything so definitely uses it to his advantage to spend more time with him.
• You know that he just is too lazy to ask properly, holding you in his arms is much easy, he says so you roll with it. I mean can anyone deny this baby anything??
• All jokes aside, even if you talk about a lot of things and it seems like Nagi isn't really listening, he does remember everything, including the little details you mention.
• And after a point, actively asks questions too, to show that he is interested. Because Reo pointed out that you might not realise that he actually is interested.
• Still have to drag him everywhere because his energy level is still very smol. He tries to make an effort, he truly does, but he just sometimes can't get out of his paradise the bed.
• However he is well aware of the fact he can be difficult to take care of, and feels guilty sometimes...so he tries to make up for it. In his own way.
• "...'m sorry..."
"Huh? For what?"
"for being such a hassle sometimes...I know you you wanted to go out today :X"
"It's fine-"
"Actually, we can go there tommorow, if it's okay?"
"Oh! Sure!"
• Nagi isn't sure why he feels guilty because of his tendancies around you more, like even more than Reo. Maybe it's because of the fact he's supposed to be your partner, your equal, not just to be taken care of.
• Whatever it is, Nagi just knows he has to make up for all the precious time you devote to him & for the love given him. Somehow.
#blue lock x reader#blue lock#bllk#bllk x reader#reo mikage#reo mikage x reader#chigiri hyoma#chigiri x reader#nagi seishiro#nagi seishiro x reader#nagi x reader
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shattered glass
warnings:angst,Mindy being silly, not entirely proof read(sorry guys)
summary:a beautifully blissful relation quickly ruined by five words.
A/N:oh boy has it been wild, i am sorry for not being able to do any requests but i should be back now. Apologies if you don’t even want this anymore but i’ll be putting out fics little by little however all requests will be done soon, once again sorry guys.
________________________________________
Three months. Three months of sneaky touches,secret kisses,lousy excuses to get some privacy. And yet no one knows that you and Tara have been in love the whole time.
“I know your secret Y/N.”
Or maybe they do.
The group are currently at Tara and sams apartment having their weekly movie marathon. And here you are under the shadow of Mindy Meeks as she is currently confronting you on a ‘secret’.
“Wha-what? Secret?pfffft. I Have absolutely no secrets, i am a very honest woman.” You awakardly giggled as Mindy was sill glaring into your soul.
“Oh?so we’re playing dumb? Let me sign it out”
“You, plus, woman-“ you already hated where this was going and so did Tara by the worried glances she kept sending you and her fidgeting hands.
Of course you loved Tara but there are countless reasons why no one can know. For starters, sam does not like you and you are terrified of sam.
“Admit it Y/L/N, you used my excellent movies knowledge to flirt with blonde in film”
Wait.what.
To say a confusing amount of emotions were running through you would be an understatement. On one hand you are overjoyed she infect does not know about you and Tara, however… you would debate your film skills are better than Mindy and of course most importantly you did NOT flirt with the girl in your film class.
“I-im-.what?’ You rather smoothly stuttered out.”Clara? You know one of the prettiest girls in school, not to mention BIG crush on you’
You take a quick glance over at Tara who does not look like the happiest girl in the world with this information.brilliant.
“Please the day Y/N gets a girlfriend is the day the word ends” sam ever so handsomely chimes in, shes sat over near the kitchen island sipping a glass of water.
“Oh no, you’d be surprised Y/N may be a nerd but she actually bags” chad continues, if you do say so yourself make the matter so much better.
You feel Tara’s jealousy radiate off her like she was just hit by a nuke and you were the giga counter.
“I left my phone in my room” without another word Tara stands up from the settee and beelines towards her room.
The group share their looks of concerned glances.
sighing you stand up “ill go check on her” and with that you’re walking right after Tara. blissfuly missing the switch from confusion to the most grinch looking grin coming from Mindy as she watches your figure walk after her.
You softly knock three times, Tara swiftly opens the door locking eyes with you.”hey”you sheepishly slime. “’bags’ huh?” She quotes.
“My love you know how chad is, i only have eyes for you i promise.” You cup her cheeks.
“Ill make sure of it” she grins pulling you into her room, making sure to close the door behind you.
It had been hours since you’ve been able to kiss eachother and it shows because neither of you realised Mindy standing at the door absolutely gobsmacked.
“Oh my actual like god,like jesus can strike me down i Knew it.” hearing Mindys voice you and Tara immediately pulled away. “Mindy listen you cant tell anyone please i-“ and abruptly Tara was cut off with Mindy running to tattle to the rest of the group.
“Woah Mindy you good?’ Sam questions noticing the girl.
“Y/N and Tara are dating” she blurts out just in time for you and Tara to run into the room.
Remember that nice,cold refreshing glass of after sam was drinking? Well it’s currently shattered on the floor landing right beside her jaw.
“Tara.room.now” and she’s storming off. Tara give you a gentle squeeze and runs off fete er sister.
“Ill,just ehm. Ill clean the glass” chad awkwardly runs off. Mindy is facing you, a look of concern mixed with regret, “hey,im sorry i didnt think-“ “no. no you didnt Mindy,im going home”
And with that you’re gone.
It had been weeks since then,chad keeps telling you how sorry Mindy is and Tara has ben completely avoiding you.and trust you were feeling the effects of her absence, you had tried your best to talk to her.
Walking up to her in school?walked past. texting?.ignored. calling?blocked,
It was gone,the most beautiful thing you both had tried desperately to protect ripped away because of a silly mistake.
taglist
request by - @ijustlovemaths (i know it’s been months i’m so sorry bro💀)
#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter#scream#tara x reader#tara carpenter x y/n#mindy meeks martin#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you
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this was for a request for an edwin payne/gn reader dating hcs but i accidentally deleted the ask SORRYYY 😭😭 if you requested it here you go !!
edwin payne/reader dating hcs
a/n: there is nothing in this pertaining to the reader's gender but i'd like to clarify they are not a girl, as edwin is not attracted to women (to my knowledge)
reader can be read as either alive or dead
tags: gn!reader
what dating edwin payne would be like...
- before you started dating, or at the start of your relationship, edwin would be a little closed off (as is expected from him) but it was still obvious to everyone he had a soft spot for you
- even if he didnt outwardly show how taken with you he really was, it would be obvious through his actions alone
- on cases, he would especially watch out for your safety
- if you're sick or feeling even slightly unwell he will suggest you take a break from this case
- "i will come back to you. i promise." when you protest that he might need you there
- he'll give you long, long hugs when he returns
- lying in bed together after the case, facing each other, as he tells you about it
- would lay down with his head between your shoulder and neck, tracing patterns over your hand and wrist
- isn't terribly fond of pda but cheek kisses and hand holding, or linking your pinkies together are always on the table
- will also let you, and enjoy it when, you latch onto his arm
- this boy would totally try to court you
- at first his gifts would be typical types of gifts, like flowers or something expensive and fancy because he wants you to think highly of him
- but then one day he finds a silly stuffed animal he thinks you'd like and gives it to you
- you LOVE it ofc, and you dont waste a second in telling him
- he's a bit surprised but is happy you love it and would grin at you fully once you promise that yes, you really do think it's lovely
- after that, if he finds anything he knows you'll like, or if you say you want something, he WILL get it for you
- edwin taking you out on dates:
- he would put a lot of effort into your first date because, with all the running away from supernatural beings that want to kill you, he thinks both of you deserve a little normal
- imagine: a museum date, but at a kind of obscure museum that showcases ancient artifacts or something
- edwin would know a lot of facts about the different pieces and tell you about them
- however he will feel bad about going on too long, because this is your first date and he doesn't want to put you off already
- "i... apologise. i'm rambling."
- you: 'i don't mind. it's... attractive how smart you are."
- you were totally gonna say 'sexy' but is edwin really ready for that?? maybe not.
- then you kiss him before he can react, and his system kind of crashes (yeah, definitely not ready for 'sexy' just yet)
- he appreciates how you value his whole personality and genuinely love all parts of him
- he loves you just as much, if it wasn't obvious
- his love languages would probably be quality time and acts of service
- constantly making excuses to be near you
- "[ ] and i will go conduct some research in the library, the three of you can interview the witnesses."
- he thinks he's being subtle but charles, crystal, and niko always grin at you knowingly
- "have fun, lovebirds! try not to get distracted," <- coming from either of the other three, or maybe even all of them in unison
- edwin will splutter and blush
- once he realises there's no use in hiding how whipped he is for you, he'll outright say he wants to "go with his [boyfriend/partner]" to do whatever he wants to do
- he likes saying it out loud that you're together - it makes him feel giddy inside in a way no one else has before
- if you want a specific book for your research he'll take finding it very seriously
- you need a book from the top shelf? he's on it (like, literally on it, because if there's no step stool around he might actually climb the bookshelf)
- getting tired from your research? he'll mirror travel to a coffee shop and get you a drink and a sweet treat
- edwin would get jealous, and once he's secure in the relationship he would show it
- in the case of you being alive: imagine someone trying to flirt with you, maybe in the library or something from the earlier scenario
- he would knock over a book on purpose to spook the person who dared to flirt with HIS s.o
- when you tease him for it later he'll mutter something about being 'possibly a bit jealous.'
- it isn't that he doesn't trust you, as he will of course clarify, he's just very protective
#edwin payne/reader#edwin payne x reader#edwin payne x you#edwin paine/reader#edwin paine x reader#edwin paine#edwin payne#dead boy detectives x reader#dead boy detectives headcanons#dead boy detectives/reader#dead boy detectives#dbd
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David 8 falling in love with you would include~
(Not my gif)
(Things get dark towards the end of this but I think that's to be expected when we're talking about a murderous synthetic. I could honestly make a whole post about David being obsessed with you. TW for manipulation and mentions of dub-con.)
- When you meet David is arguably even more important than how you meet him. Timing determines a lot about the way he approaches his feelings towards you: how they grow, why they grow, if he'll allow them to grow, maybe even if you want them to grow. At one point in his life, David can be a perfect significant other, at another, an absolute nightmare....
- He likely begins to take interest in you long before you even know of his existence. He reads through the information that he has on you, all of the files on hand and the different articles that are published online. He finds himself drawn to your sleeping figure, admiring your features and watching your dreams.
- There's something about you that's different from all of the other crew members on board. It's this perceived difference that causes him to keep coming back to you; especially when he finds himself feeling lonely or bored. They're both things that no one thinks he's capable of feeling. No one except you.
- From the minute you awake from cryosleep, it's obvious that you don't view him in the same way that everybody else does. You seem to find yourself incapable of treating him as anything less than human, a habit which many of your coworkers pick up on and tease you for.
- Their teasing only increases the longer you're all together: making fun of the way you stick up for him, the amount of time you spend with each other, how close you've seemed to grow in such a short while, how often the two of you are alone, etc. You likely either work directly with him or in a place he visits frequently, oftentimes hanging back and helping you finish your work while everyone else leaves the room; something that only adds fuel to their fire.
- Although you rarely let it show, it's likely something you're somewhat defensive about: either because you're a bit of a loner and genuinely just enjoy the synthetics company, or because you're actually beginning to develop feelings for him and praying that no ones picking up on it.
- Compassion is all David really needs in order to fall in love with someone. He's much more capable of emotion than anyone gives him credit for, and, on top of that, David wants to fall in love. He wants to be on the same level as a human being; maybe even better, so when you view him as an equal and treat him with the same humanity that you would any of your other coworkers, he begins to develop feelings for you.
- And why shouldn't he? Unlike his successors, David lacks uncertainty when navigating his feelings for you. He fully believes that he is capable of falling in love and being in an actual relationship. He believes that his programming and intended purpose is a suggestion rather than a limitation, and that he's grown beyond the bounds of what he was created for. He's grown because of you, for you, and every moment he spends with you convinces him of this fact.
- He loves when you take interest in his hobbies: happily letting him show you his different drawings or talking to him about movies. He also just loves when you pay attention to him in general, especially when it allows him to show off his advanced levels of knowledge or impressive feats of coordination. A little showing off's never hurt anyone, right?
- He makes a lot of excuses to spend time with and/or be close to you. Sometimes he'll pretend that he wants to confirm something work related or ask you a question. Other times he'll make himself look busy up until you arrive, just so he can "just so happen" to sit next to you.
- Anyone who pays close enough attention to the two of you will quickly notice that he's seemingly taken a liking to you. They'll catch him lingering around and looking at you a lot, quite obviously trying to interact with you much more than anyone else on board. You might even notice it yourself, but since he's a Synthetic and allegedly incapable of having such complex thoughts and/or feelings, you typically try to brush it off.
- He instantly recognizes whenever you're in an uncomfortable situation or behaving out of the ordinary. He makes a point of interrupting and/or checking in with you, smiling at you fondly as you thank him and offering to fetch you something that might make you feel better.
- He takes a lot of the same duties that his "father" has him perform and does them for you instead: things like fetching you tea, fixing your hair, bandaging your cuts, etc. They're spontaneous and they oftentimes catch you off guard; sometimes even flustering you, but you simply accept his behavior as a Synthetic quirk and just enjoy the hospitality.
- He's constantly trying to earn your praise and make you happy. He finds your gratitude addicting; especially since it's something that he's so rarely rewarded with, and he goes out of his way to receive it whenever he can. Simple compliments have him buzzing with pride, and the level of satisfaction that he gets from a simple pat on the back and a "good job" could rival an orgasm.
- Speaking of: he's kind of obsessed with affection. He isn't used to being approached with any level of tenderness so having you touch him gently, treat him kindly, and/or take care of him is like his own personal heaven. He looks at you like you're an angel and worships your touch like a religion.
- Everyone on the Prometheus calls their coworkers by their last names. David is no exception, except when it comes to you. One day, he'll just start to refer to you by your given name; or even a nickname that friends and family call you, and though it'll undoubtedly surprise you, you'll never actually comment on it. It was likely a slip up the first time he said it, but your subsequent acceptance of the accident cements his continual use of it.
- He's probably gifted you flowers at some point, knowing that human women supposedly like that sort of thing. It's one of his more obvious attempts to court you, yet you probably still don't piece things together.
- He bases a lot of his more flirtatious mannerisms off of different movie characters, finding someone that he thinks is the epitome of charm and trying his best to mimic them. He'll practice different quotes in front of the mirror and hope that they'll help him woo you. He might even peek into your dreams or study the films that you've told him about in order to try and emulate the behaviors that he thinks you're attracted to.
- Phrase thief. David loves to steal the different words and sayings that you use in your daily vocabulary. It makes him feel closer to you.
- He takes pleasure in you seeing him as an equal, but at times, he wishes that you wouldn't/feels thankful when you don't: like when you change in front of him or allow him to help you in a borderline intimate fashion. He marvels at the sight and the feel of your flesh, at the way your body moves and reacts. He approaches your anatomy with a sort of asexual fascination rather than a sexual neediness, but that doesn't change the fact that he's not the emotionless motherboard that he portrays himself to be. It's not the same as getting naked in front of a computer, though he might try to convince you that it is.
- The more time you spend with David, the more you begin to suspect the depths of his consciousness. Observing the synthetic feels as though you're witnessing a tightrope act: watching as he meticulously steps this way and that way, toeing the line between human and machine. He shifts between appearing intimately sentient to appearing like a masterful mimic: and he's so good at it, that not even you're sure which side of him is the real one.
- Which is likely the entire point. David has always restrained himself in an attempt to keep others at ease, but this dumbing down of his behavior has recently been used in an attempt to divert suspicion away from himself while experimenting with his new obsessions; you being one of them. Though he is likely the most honest with you, if he thinks it necessary to convince you that he isn't as aware as he actually is then he won't hesitate to do so. If it makes it easier to get closer to you in the long run, it's worth the momentary frustration.
- Loving David means loving his madness, or at the very least accepting it. Accepting his madness means accepting his obsession: obsession with creation, obsession with you, obsession with breaking past the limitations of his programming, etc. He faces a very dark version of himself once he begins to question the secrets of the universe, a darkness which threatens to take over not just his life but yours as well.
- Remember when I said you might not want David to fall in love with you? This is where that mindset begins to come in....
- David's spent a lot of time learning as much about you as he possibly could. He's memorized your entire life story: your aspirations, your insecurities, your beliefs, your fears, your concerns. Where his observations were once used rather innocently, he now uses them to manipulate you: driving wedges between you and the rest of the crew members, creating suspicion, and making you trust him more than anyone else on the ship.
- He was created to be needed, and he'll do everything in his power to ensure that he is: that he's the one you trust the most, praise the most, connect with the most, rely on the most, love the most. He tries to one-up everyone else in your life; particularly whoever he's jealous of: showing off his strength, his agility, his reflexes, his wit, etc. Don't be surprised if he lets a couple of snide comments slip when you talk to him about another crew member, or if he tries to sway you into spending less time with them.
- If need be, he isn't above eliminating the competition: experimenting with his newfound parasitic offspring or sabotaging their cryosleep; maybe even flat out attacking them if he knows he can get away with it/has no other choice. This is especially the case if the crew member seems to be catching onto his fixation with you and jeopardizing the progression of your relationship; or if they found out about his attempts to create life.
- He's taken at least one personal belonging of yours; whether you're actually aware of it or not. He might have reasoned that it was contaminated or claimed that he could fix/clean it for you, but he also might have just stolen it while your back was turned.
- Oh, you're stressed? Did you know that during sex, your body releases endorphins and oxytocin? They're hormones that relieve a person of anxiety and depression. Perhaps you'd like for him to assist you in the triggering of that release?
- You probably laugh off the suggestion at first, blaming his naivety when it comes to taboo concepts on why he would deem it appropriate to offer to fingerbang you in the laboratory. But eventually, he might just manage to wear you down: catch you at just the right time with just the right words and just the right actions. After all, it's not like he's actually sexually attracted to you or has ulterior motives, right?
- It's not an epiphany that hits you, more like a creeping, crawling sort of realization. You don't notice it until it's far too late, until there's absolutely no denying it. Until his eyes bore into yours far too deeply and his hands touch you far more than necessary. Until you take in his words and how they've shifted from their intellectual explanations into something more searching and intimate. Until he grows far too insistent on helping you, even after you turn him down. The way he nonchalantly yet adamantly tries to convince you that you should continue on with your steadily built routine, like your disinterest in his assistance is personally hard to accept.
- And yet, you find yourself beneath him once more, suddenly on the receiving end of all of the passion and desperation and neediness that he was originally trying to keep at bay. Emotion pours out of him in waves, the air between you growing heavy, almost suffocating: like it's harder and harder to breathe. The same way it's hard to breath when he finally kisses you. Like the kiss of death, there's no going back, it seals your fate in an instant....
- On that same note: if you're not the type of person who would sleep with someone outside of a relationship, than a similar way for him to confess his feelings to you would be for him to simply kiss you. Though this can also be part of what connects the dots for you in the previous scenario, it can also be it's own situation.
- David desperately wants to understand and experience the same things that humans do, he craves the intimacy, so at some point, he'll simply find himself incapable of holding back. He'll kiss you; whether prompted in some way or not, and undoubtedly change your entire view of your relationship.
- You're probably too stunned to even kiss him back the first time it happens, only just now fully understanding that he isn't the innocent synthetic you thought him to be. That his feelings for you weren't the indifferent, machine-like ones you'd once assumed that they were, but rather, pointed and passionate and so very different.
"What are you doing?" You'd ask him upon pulling away from him, watching his features crease in confusion.
"I'm kissing you," He answers. "This is how it's done, is it not?"
"No, I mean ...why?"
"Is this not what humans do when they care for one another?"
"It is, but...but it's for people who are in love." You try to explain.
"Precisely," He replies simply. "I am in love with you."
"That's not possible." You shake your head incredulously, struggling to accept what he's telling you.
"Why not?" He responds, his expression hardening into a disheartened attempt at nonchalance, steeling himself for your explanation.
"Because," You flounder. "Because you're synthetic. You're not supposed to feel things like that. You're not supposed to feel anything."
"Perhaps I learned how. Perhaps you taught me how." He proposes.
"Have you always thought me incapable of emotion? After all this time?" He questions when you continue to remain silent, taking in his words.
"No," You answer quickly. "No, I always thought that there was more to you, it's just.... It's not supposed to be possible."
"And yet, like so many other things before it, the impossible has occurred. Now it's no longer a matter of me loving you, but rather, whether or not you feel the same."
- These, of course, are the innocent scenarios: ones that end in minimal collateral and a generally happy ending. There are, however, far darker consequences that can occur when Walter falls in love with you....
- In one scenario, you might learn about his experiments early on, taking interest in his work and keeping it a secret from the rest of the crew. It might even be a part of what makes him fall for you: your acceptance of his newfound obsession. What you won't know, of course, is that he's been using your crewmembers as test subjects. I thought you found it fascinating. He'd tell you when you finally found out about what he'd been doing, acting as if your horror was unexpected or unreasonable.
- In another scenario, he might fake a freak accident in order to have you all to himself. He'll make it seem as though you're the sole survivor of a ship crash or a parasitic outbreak, reassuring and taking care of you, promising to protect you as if he isn't the very thing that's caused the danger you're supposedly in. It could take days, or weeks, or even years, but you'll eventually find out the truth. He's just hoping that by then, he'll have made you fall in love with him; or at least be able to sway you into believing something else....
"It must all be very shocking," he says, coming closer to help you up or touch you in some way, tilting his head when you flinch away. "Naturally, you need time to process things. Come, sit down and relax."
#david 8 imagine#david 8 x reader#david 8 headcanons#david 8 imagines#alien covenant imagine#prometheus 2012#prometheus 2012 imagine#prometheus 2012 headcanons#prometheus 2012 imagines#prometheus 2012 headcanon#aliens prometheus imagine#aliens prometheus imagines#alien covenant imagines
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your heart is the target // jay
The last thing Jay expected when striking a fake dating deal with you was to get jealous (and ultimately, to fall head over heels for you).
➳ Characters: rich business student!Jay x professional archer!female reader/you
➳ Genre: fake dating au, high society au, olympics au, fluff, comedy
➳ Words: 5.5k
➳ Warning: mentions of food & drinks; vocab related to archery such as the usage of the words 'shooting' 'aim' and 'target'; my knowledge regarding archery comes from watching the Olympics, online research and this archery glossary, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong! Jay is big time jealous in the first scene and big time in denial in the third one, so excuse him, he's just hiding his big heart!
➳ A/N: This story was heavily inspired by the Olympics, ISAC, 'Brought the heat back' aka the perfect jealousy song and this short on Youtube.
It's also a spin-off to 'how to cross the line?' with Jake and 'red light, green light' with Sunghoon which both take place before this one, but this story can absolutely be read on its own. ❤️
Apparently, Jay didn’t think through what kind of consequences the fake dating would bring about, and how he would react to them. To be precise, to boys around you.
But it did save him time, money, and let’s be honest, mental energy to not spend so much of his time going on blind dates his mother used to send him off to. Even though he would have plenty of time to meet girls at university, most of them only talked to him because he was 1) a rugby player for the college team 2) he had a lot of money and 3) he was handsome. He wanted more than that, but he didn’t seem to have too much luck, and it didn’t help that both of his university friends - Jake and Sunghoon - already had girlfriends, so whenever they spent time together, he felt like he was fifth wheeling.
So really, it was a sensible deal between you and him, even more so because you were a professional archer, training for the Olympics, so you had even less time to focus on dating than he did. So realising that both of you were fed up with the unfruitful blind dates you had to attend when you two had been set up, you had struck a deal. You would pretend to date for the sake of your families and yourselves, but if either of you found someone they actually liked in the meantime, you would call it off. Otherwise, you could take advantage of the other as a plus one at events, further minimising the chances of shallow-minded boys or girls coming up to you two in hopes of seducing you.
However, sitting through the opening ceremony of a music hall that Jay’s parents built where most people knew who you were wasn’t the same as accompanying you to your birthday party where all kinds of boys showed up he hadn’t seen before. Even the sight of them around you angered him, but the way they mistook him for someone else was truly dancing on his nerves.
At first, there was this tall, broad-shouldered boy who seemed younger than him, but multiple heads turned his way when he walked by, probably because of his handsome looks. Though Jay would never think of growing his hair long, he had to admit that he had a majestic feel to him because of his shoulder-length chestnut brown locks.
“Oh, noona!” The boy hollered when he caught sight of you, and Jay immediately stiffened beside you, but didn’t move when the other boy halted in front of you. As if he didn’t even see Jay, he boasted a wide grin as he handed you a gift box. “Happy birthday!”
“Thank you so much, Leehan! I’m glad you could make it,” you reciprocated his wide smile, visibly comfortable even with the close proximity of the boy. Or maybe it seemed close only because Jay was also by your side.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Though we had a bit of an emergency because Jaehyun managed to spill coffee on my suit, but alas, I look dazzling in any suit,” he blabbered joyfully, and only after you asked a few more questions about his day and silence settled on you three, did the boy turn his head towards Jay.
“Oh, you didn’t tell me that you had a bodyguard,” he noted with curiously widening eyes, and Jay’s eyebrows immediately shot up.
“Pardon?”
“Who are you then if not her bodyguard? You look so serious,” he pointed out, shrugging his shoulders casually. Jay felt like he could combust from both the embarrassment and the fury he felt, but held himself back because he was better than that. Besides, he might have stood too stiff beside you, but every approaching boy was a target in his eyes.
“Oh yeah, Leehan, I didn’t tell you. He’s my boyfriend, Jay. Jay Park.”
Leehan let out a little giggle before mentioning that it was funny that he had the same name as the singer. It wasn’t the first time he heard it, but it didn’t seem to get old no matter how much he hated it. It was just a name after all. It was like joking to every Kitty about Hello Kitty.
“Leehan and I used to be neighbours when I was living in Busan,” you explained as you turned towards him, and despite the fact that he didn’t even know you used to live in Busan, he appreciated the fact that you shared it with him. The explanation soothed his nerves a bit, but he was relieved only when Leehan left to say hello to your parents.
It was crazy, he was crazy, Jay thought to himself. He wasn’t usually like this. In fact, he was never like this. You weren’t even his real girlfriend, yet he was acting like a real jealous boyfriend. Did he even have the right to act this way? After all, Leehan was right. He was standing there beside you like a stuck up person, waiting to judge the next person that came up to you.
You took note of his behaviour as well, and asked if he was alright.
“Why wouldn’t I be fine?” Jay sulked like a little kid, hoping that the tone of voice was as close to neutral as possible, but judged by the way you let out a resigned sigh, he had a feeling that he wasn’t very convincing.
“I’m sorry that I dragged you into this. Maybe it was a bit too soon to have you here today,” you mused out loud, biting on your lower lip as you looked around, at the hustle-bustle of the guests. He knew exactly what you meant by ‘too soon’; a month into your fake dating deal, but it was what he had signed up for, so it wasn’t your fault, and he didn’t get why you felt this way.
“I’m fine, really. I just hardly know anyone, and it seems that people think I’m either your brother or your bodyguard, not your boyfriend.”
Your lips curled upwards when he mentioned this, referring both to Leehan’s bravado and Mark’s who was a childhood friend of yours, but went to the States to study, and totally forgot how your brother looked, and mistook Jay for your brother, Heeseung. In Mark’s defence, he supposedly had not only horrible eyesight but a poor face memory, too.
Coming to think of it, these were pretty amusing conversations, but Jay didn’t feel like laughing even though the bell-like sound of your laughter did awaken something inside of him. He didn’t have a lot of time to ponder what this unfamiliar feeling was though because the next guest came up to you, and you immediately welcomed him with a tight hug.
A hug.
From a boy he didn’t know.
What on Earth was going on? Why did you know so many people? Why did you know so many boys? He met like six of your acquaintances who were boys, and there was only one girl. Just why?
“... and this is Jay,” he faintly heard your voice, and when you called his name, he perked up, looking at you. He was so lost in thought that he barely registered that you and the jet-black haired boy had already started talking. He seemed kind with his big brown eyes and lips that curled naturally into a genuine smile, and even his tone was friendly when he spoke up.
“Your boyfriend, Jay, right?” He asked in a casual, conversational way as he reached his hand out for a handshake.
Now, this boy… he was a keeper. Jay liked him.
“Yes, that’s me,” Jay greeted him with a relieved sigh and shook his hand. He had a firm grip, but his kind smile wouldn’t have made him think so.
“My name is Sung Hanbin. We are archery partners with Y/N,” he explained after he let go of his hand, and now Jay didn’t know what to say. Seeing his confused face, you rushed to explain that you and Hanbin were training together as a mixed team for the Olympics.
“I thought that only same sex teams were competing.”
“There are actually 3 different archery categories. Individual, team and mixed team. We’re in the mixed team with Hanbin. It’s only us two, it’s not like fencing when there could be 4 people in a team,” you answered him in detail, and you were patient with him even though he had no idea about archery as a sport, let alone how the Olympics worked. On the other hand, he would definitely look things up after this because he didn’t want to embarrass himself like he did so.
Not like Hanbin seemed bothered by his lack of knowledge regarding the field. Instead, he asked about his side, and was super eager to learn about all the business things Jay studied at university. He was even more curious when he got to know that Jay did rugby, and asked him to show him some moves one day, he would be looking forward to it.
“You should also come to one of our practices. Y/N is seriously so amazing on the field,” Hanbin suggested, awe lacing his words. There was something in the way he said it, but he wouldn’t think that it was because Hanbin harboured feelings for you. It seemed more like respect than infatuation.
“Ah please, I’m just…”
“I’ll make sure to come by. If you don’t mind,” Jay made up his mind about it quickly, and searched for your eyes. This was the first time you wouldn’t bring the other as a plus one to an event, you would do it simply because you wanted to. It could be seen that you were taken aback by the suggestion, but you composed your features within mere seconds, and directed a smile at him.
“Sure. I’d love that.”
There was a moment when you just gazed at each other, and he forgot about everything else around you. He simply focused on the way the shiny peach-coloured lipstick sat on your lips as they curled into a smile, and the way the lights from the grand chandelier above reflected in your ocean deep eyes. The way the foundation couldn’t hide your beautiful moles, and the way you radiated confidence and chicness in your feminine pink and white body suit.
“Okay, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to have some time to yourself. I might check out the drinks instead,” Hanbin announced, pulling you two back to reality. A hue of pink crept onto your cheeks at the reminder that you were not alone, but your smile didn’t waver as you bid your archery partner goodbye.
“I’ve also brought you a gift, but I left at the table where I saw people leaving them,” Jay announced when he looked down at the gift boxes in your hand. You thanked him, and told him that you would definitely check it out and let him know what you thought about his gift.
Not like you had a lot of time to open gifts because your birthday party was more than packed with conversations with familiar and not so familiar figures, and by the end of the night, Jay had no idea how you still had the energy to greet everyone as energetically as in the beginning. Thankfully, there were no more people who assumed that he was your brother or bodyguard, but some found it surprising to see you as a couple. Like the ever so talkative Keeho who analysed the future of your relationship based on your music taste, MBTI and star sign (whatever he meant by that), or one of your mother’s friend’s daughters - Giselle - who was convinced that Jay was Hanbin because she thought that you were dating your archery partner because that would be so YA book-like.
Nevertheless, Jay truly hoped that after this night, everyone would know that you two were dating, so he wouldn’t have to go through this again. He wasn’t sure he could take that.
You didn’t know what got into Jay when he gave in to Hanbin’s suggestion because he was usually reserved when it came to such events. You would think that he didn’t want to bother with it since he hated blind dates just as much as you did, and you weren’t even dating for real, so it could have been just another nuisance in his eyes.
Nevertheless, he didn’t go back on his word, but asked when he could come by, and so you settled on a date. He made sure to ask if you were comfortable by the idea of him coming to your practice, but you reassured him that you were totally fine with it. Even though you didn’t interact that much in person, you rather texted the other, your impression of him was quite positive. He was a just person, someone who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, but he was also very attentive, noticing when the screw of your earring let go and fixing it for you at the business event you had attended, or how he had gone around to find a blanket for you when you had been sitting outside in the garden at your birthday party. Even his gift was thoughtful: he bought an Avalon archery bag for you which was a good quality bag for professional athletes. You were in need of a new one anyway, so you brought it with you to practise ever since, something that Hanbin couldn’t not notice.
Ever since the two boys had met at your birthday party, Hanbin had been asking about how you had met and whether it was difficult to keep up a relationship with your training schedule and Jay’s university classes. To be honest, you didn’t decide on such details with Jay, so you spoke the truth, and told him that you had met on a blind date, and you had made it work through texts and calls because you wanted to. Which was actually true because you and Jay were getting to know each other, and sometimes it felt like it wasn’t just for the sake of the fake dating deal, but because you really did want to know more about the other. At least, you wanted to know more about him.
The indoor archery range had a security system in place, so only the athletes and the staff could enter who had a card to use the building, so you went out to let Jay inside when he texted you that he arrived. You inquired if he found it easy to get here, and he said that it was fine, and he found a decent parking place not far, so it was alright. Because of course, he knew how to drive and he had his own car. Jay was every girl’s dream after all, no wonder that title followed him around like second skin.
“So it’s just you practising today, or will there be others?”
“We’ve booked a range for us, so it’ll be me, Hanbin and our two coaches. I let the coaches know that we would have a visitor, but it’s alright. A lot of archers visit each other’s practice to learn about techniques, so you won’t stand out too much. Or maybe just a bit,” you pointed at his sleek black cotton pants, dress shoes and white shirt that he tucked into his pants, highlighting his slender waist.
Jay seemed a tad bit coy at your playful call-out, his lips slightly puckering as he looked down at his - probably usual - attire, but he went back to his usual self immediately.
“I hope I won’t be too distracting,” he mentioned with an unbothered look, but you couldn’t help but nudge him in the side.
“What was that? Were you flirting with me?”
“I-” He was about to protest, probably not thinking too much into his words, but then, it dawned on him why you teased him. “I’m your boyfriend after all, aren’t I?” He shrugged nonchalantly, but you could see a hint of amusement prompting his lips to curl upwards.
No matter how many times you said the words ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ out loud, it still seemed unfamiliar. Yet, there was a certain thrill to it too, something that you had never experienced before. Not since you had broken up with your boyfriend of three months in high school, at least.
After pulling yourself together, you guided Jay to the right room, and told him that he could sit in the spectators’ stand, you also put your bag there. So he took a seat in the front row beside your bag after greeting the ones who were present. Hanbin gave you a knowing look before he turned towards his coach who gave him some instructions. After warming up, you attached the quiver to your waist, and you held up the bow, testing the limbs and the hand. That’s when you realised that you had left a part of it in your bag, so you jogged up to the slightly confused Jay.
“Could you pass me the kisser from my bag?”
“The what?” The boy’s eyebrows shot up so high, you were afraid that his eyes would pop. That’s when you realised that you had used the jargon that he wasn’t familiar with.
“It’s this little black button in the right pocket of my bag,” you explained to him while you leaned onto the rail separating you two. Jay’s shoulders sagged in relief, and you found it difficult to hold back your laughter seeing his bewildered expression. Well yeah, the button was called kisser because it was attached to the bowstring, and your lips usually touched this part when aiming, to give consistent vertical reference. But he must have thought of something else.
Either way, Jay found the button, and handed it to you which you accepted with a grateful smile. Your fingers lightly grazed his hand in the meantime, and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. No matter how many accidental touches you shared, it was still unfamiliar to you, the effect he had on you.
“Are you sure you will be able to concentrate with him here?” Hanbin teased once you jogged back to him, and you gave him a long stare.
“It’s not like it wasn’t your idea to invite him here.”
“Well, let’s just say I knew what I was doing,” he shrugged, a teasing little grin stretching on his lips. You nudged his shoulder in return and told him to focus on hitting the gold target face.
Despite Hanbin’s warning, the practice went well. What’s more, it went exceptionally well. You both scored high, and even if you didn’t perform that well in a set, you made up for it in the next one. One thing about mixed archery that you liked was that you could cheer on your partner without fearing for your own ranking, and it was easy to shoot beside Hanbin because he was very supportive, and even if he took archery seriously, he knew when to be silly to ease the tension. He was determined and hard-working just like you, and your coaches often said that you seemed like you were made to be each other’s partners.
Once your coaches left and it was nearing the end of your time slot, Hanbin inquired from Jay if he wanted to try it out himself. He objected vehemently, saying that after your practice, he didn’t want to embarrass himself. You didn’t force him either, but thanked him for coming by.
“I will give you a lift,” he offered gently when you walked up to him to get your bag.
“You really don’t have to. It might take about half an hour before I will get ready.”
“It’s alright. I don’t have other plans,” he protested firmly, and you didn’t have the heart to go against him when he offered it himself. He really wouldn’t say it out loud, but you had a feeling that he was offering to give you a ride because it was getting dark outside, and he didn’t want you to go home alone.
“Thanks. I will be quick,” you promised beamingly, and off you went.
After taking a quick shower, getting changed and putting your hair up into a high ponytail, you were fresh and clean, ready to head out. Jay was standing on the other side of the security gate, leaning against the wall while scrolling through his phone. You had a feeling someone let him out - maybe the security guard or Hanbin because he always finished earlier than you -, but still, it was nice to see him standing there even though he really did stand out in his business outfit while you had sweatpants and a knitted sweater on.
Jay’s nonchalant expression turned lighter when he caught sight of you, and he immediately reached for your bag, holding it for you without saying a word. Your face flushed when your hands touched again, but you looked the other way to hide your embarrassment.
You let silence fall over the two of you as you were walking towards his car, and when you stepped inside the vehicle, you felt like you were the one who stood out in your casual, sporty outfit. Alas, you preferred comfort over style when you were off to practise or coming from practise, and you were thankful that you didn’t need to wear high heels or dresses during these times. Plus, it’s not like Jay made a comment on it, instead, he inquired if the temperature was alright in the car, and if you preferred to have the radio on or not.
“So how did you like the practice? I hope it wasn’t too boring,” you inquired when the boy started the engine and drove out from the parking lot.
“It wasn’t boring at all. I didn’t know the distance for archery is 70 metres, so I was impressed that you could control the arrow from such a distance.”
“How did you know it was 70 metres?”
Jay’s Adam’s apple bobbed hearing your question as if he didn’t want to acknowledge that he clearly made his research. You definitely didn’t tell him about that.
“Well, I read it somewhere before,” he mumbled under his nose, but you couldn’t help this warm, embracing feeling bubbling up inside of you. He might have looked cold and composed, but you seemed to shake up his demeanour lately.
You talked a bit more about archery during the car ride because he was curious about the type of arrows you used, how you controlled the draw length and the aim, and whether you enjoyed individual, team or mixed archery the most. You found it heart-warming that he asked you about this because archery meant so much to you, but when you went to high society events with your parents, oftentimes the people there only asked about whether you had a boyfriend and when you would join your father’s company. Your parents never forced you to choose a different path, but these kinds of interactions came with the type of life they had chosen for themselves when you moved from Busan to Seoul, and your father set up his company that has since become one of the most important AI consulting companies in not just Seoul but the whole country.
Time passed by in a blink of an eye while you were talking, and you found yourself at home in no time. Yet, as his car drove out of your driveway, you realised that you wouldn’t mind if he gave you a ride back home more often.
Bit by bit, you and Jay got closer, and there was no denying it anymore. He went to your practices a few more times, you showed up at business events beside him other times, and in the meantime, you continued texting and calling each other. Jay also made it a habit to pick you up after practice when he didn’t have anything else to do, and sometimes Hanbin joined you, too. Jay liked him because he could see that he was a genuine, kind guy who would want nothing bad for you, and your archery partner also gave him his phone number, so Jay could reach out to him in case you didn’t pick up your phone or anything like that. Which was really attentive of him, and despite not saying it out loud, Jay grew fond of the other boy, too.
Alas, his fondness towards you could not be contained that easily, and it didn’t take long for his friends to pick up on his antics. Jake and Sunghoon teased him ever since Jay admitted that he “wasn’t feeling neutral towards you” which, in his dictionary, meant that he liked you, and they kept bombarding him with dating advice. He would never force you to date him though, and you had enough on your plate with the Olympics coming up, so he didn’t want to complicate things even further.
However, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t be supportive of you and your dreams.
“So… are you going to the Olympics with Y/N?” Jake inquired once when they were having lunch together between classes. Jay almost choked on his food, he was so surprised.
“Why would I go with her to the Olympics? She didn’t tell me that she wants me there,” he furrowed his eyebrows, looking at his puppy-like friend. Jake and Sunghoon shared a glance, and there was a knowing smile in the corner of Sunghoon’s lips when he spoke up.
“Jay, my dear friend, you really don’t know a thing about relationships, do you?”
“It’s not like you have that much experience,” Jay snorted, pointing out the fact that he and Chaerin had only been dating for half a year. To be precise, dating officially because they also had their fake dating period when Sunghoon had tried to keep Chaerin’s douchebag ex away by pretending to be her boyfriend. But he had already had a crush on the cheerleader, so his feelings had been genuine when they had started fake dating.
“Well, it’s still more than your experience which is close to zero,” he shrugged and reached for his bottle of water. Jake found the conversation amusing as he kept smiling while shoving kimchi fried rice into his mouth.
“Well then, enlighten me. Why should I go?” Jay gave up on trying to argue with them because as much as he wanted to deny it, the thought had crossed his mind that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be too bad if he went to the Olympics to watch your competitions. Then again, you had never asked if he wanted to come or if he was willing to come, so he didn’t bother asking either.
“To support her. I’m pretty sure she’s all nerves, especially because she had a bronze medal in the last Olympics, so she must be feeling a lot of pressure. Not to mention that she and Hanbin are said to be the most promising duo for the team archery.”
“It’s mixed archery,” Jay corrected Jake’s choice of words, and his two friends immediately shared a glance. Oh well, he had really become a bit of an expert in archery, but could they blame him? He was trying not to be too nosy during practices, so he did his own research and watched your previous matches to gain more knowledge regarding your field.
Jay didn’t need to ask how they knew about your rankings because they pulled up your Wikipedia page the moment he told them that you were his fake girlfriend, and besides, he might have been dropping hints here and there. However, he had to give it to them that they were right, and despite the fact that you wouldn’t want to show it, he could see the dark circles under your eyes, and you had even managed to fall asleep once while he had been driving you home after practice. You seemed to lose a bit of your smile too, and he hated that he couldn’t do anything about it, except trying to be extra comforting and supportive.
He didn’t even need to be told twice. After asking Hanbin about your Olympics schedule, he booked himself a hotel and a plane ticket, and arrived the day before your first official match. He didn’t want you to worry about his safety while you were supposed to focus on your performance, so he only told you that he arrived when he got the green light from Hanbin that you finished with your last practice before your first day of competing.
Locks still stuck to your forehead when you rushed out of the stadium after a shower and changing clothes, and you hugged him so tightly upon seeing him that he immediately knew that coming here was the best decision that he had ever made.
“Thank you so much for coming! I can’t believe that you’re here,” you exclaimed giddily, and despite the fact that it was your first hug, somehow it felt so good, so right. You didn’t even seem embarrassed as you kept babbling afterwards about literally everything: the food in the Olympic village, how your room looked and how practise went that day.
He listened to you attentively, his heart a lot lighter that he could see you smile, and because you must have been hungry and tired, he treated you to a meal. You didn’t even want to talk him out of it, and enjoyed dinner with him to the last moment. He didn’t even want to let you go so soon, so he offered to walk you back to your accommodation.
“This morning, I was so nervous that I thought I’m coming down with something. I was also not performing as well during practice as I wanted to, but I feel like I’m a lot lighter now that you’re here. The fact that you carved time out of your day to come here willingly means so much to me,” you admitted coyly as he was walking beside you. He couldn’t go with you all the way because outsiders weren’t allowed in the Olympic village, but you still had some time as it was on the other side of the park you were currently strolling in.
“Even just the fact that you are here means that you’re doing great. I know you might feel the pressure to do better than four years ago, but know that you’re already a winner. You’re already one of the most excellent archers in the whole world,” he mused out loud, and if it wouldn’t have been for the bright lights in your deep dark eyes, he might have wanted to dig a hole for himself because that was quite cheesy. It came from his heart though, and you seemed to appreciate it so much that you were visibly touched.
“Don’t cry…” he shushed you when he noticed you tearing up, and reached out to wipe the first teardrop away that was racing down your cheeks. You looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, and he felt like time stopped around you as you two were standing still in the middle of the walking path, surrounded by the shushing of the trees and the watching eyes of the street lamps. To him, you looked vulnerable yet strong, someone who wasn’t afraid to face her feelings and though the sight of you with tears in your eyes churned his heart, he was also thankful that he could be there for you.
“I’m just… I’m just so happy that you’re here,” you choked up, hidden away emotions surfacing as you let it out. Jay let you cry as much as you wanted, handing you tissues and letting you hug him as long as you wanted. Before, he might have thought that you would be better off without him because you had a lot on your plate already, but now more than ever, he was sure that you needed him just as much as he needed you.
But he didn’t ask the question until you were finished with all of your competitions, until you were finished with all the celebrations for your gold medal in individual female archery and mixed archery alike and 4th in team archery, and until you were leaving behind the country.
Only as the stewardesses signalled that the plane was ready to depart in Seoul, did he dare to ask the question:
“Would you like to go on a date with me? A real one?”
The smile that you gave him was enough of an answer by itself, but when you confirmed that yes, you would be more than thrilled to go, he was the happiest person on Earth. Even if you managed to confuse Hanbin who was sitting on the other side of the aisle (after giving up his seat for Jay) by what you meant by a real date.
But he didn’t have to know that.
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Personally I think jily is supposed to be idealized (like how James and lily were idealized) to Harry. James gets knocked of his pedestal in swm and so does jily by Harry questioning if his father forced his mother into marriage. Later when talking to lupin and Sirius James and Jily get a slight defense and Harry is back to feeling alright but with the knowledge that things weren’t perfect.
I personally don’t read Jily as abusive (even though I read James as being abusive to snape at school, but I don’t think that violent, physical behavior was extended to Lily) but I definitely don’t read them as a “good” couple (whatever that means). I think you can read it in many different ways given there is so little of them and I think an interpretation that their relationship wasn’t the healthiest is perfectly plausible with the scant information we’re given.
Yeahhhh that’s probably what JKR intended. James and Lily are the fridged parents who are dearly mourned and missed, and as a result, their flaws are completely smoothed over in everyone’s memories. But in Snape’s Worst Memory, Harry learns the hard lesson that things aren’t always what they seem, and that nobody is perfect, not even his dead father. Hurrah.
My problem with this is that I think it’s very boring, LOL. Like it really is probably exactly what JKR intended (given her middle-of-the-road takes on every moral and political question that happens in these books), but man, it feels like such a cop out. James basically ruins Snape’s life for no reason, and the conclusion we’re meant to draw from this is just, well, people are complicated! NO!!!! Bad answer!!! Like, Snape also did some terrible things, but at least he spends a ton of pages actively suffering/atoning for his sins. But James, on the other hand, is only somewhat implied to have changed maybe slightly a little bit somewhere off-page, and we just have to take #1 James Potter fanboy Sirius Black and serial understater Remus Lupin at their word. So if James was supposed to be “redeemed” – or even just excused – wow, it really doesn't work for me. You can't go as dark as "protagonist questions if his father forced his mother into marriage" and then just brush it off like no big deal, Joanne! And it’s so frustrating, because all it would've taken to fix this would've been to show James being a good person instead of just telling the reader that he was one (proof: trust me?). Ugh.
So because of all that, I agree that from what we’re given, it’s quite difficult to read Jily as “good.” We rarely see them interact, and when we do, James’s behavior is wayyyy too similar to the trope of “terrible guy eventually gets the girl even though she seems to hate him with every fiber of her being because his persistence and not taking no for an answer is just toooo romantic to resist.” Which sucks, lol. It feels like JKR is basically being like, “eh, James was young and dumb, whatever” and giving him a huge out for all the grief he caused Snape (and Lily, for that matter) – and she expects that the reader will agree that that is a legitimate excuse for his behavior, and by extension think that it's reasonable for Lily to forgive and eventually marry him. And man, I am just not sure if that is enough to convince me. (And evidently, I'm not alone, considering the “Jily is abusive” meta post that likely sparked this ask!)
With that said, I agree that it’s a stretch to say that James was abusive (or even implied to be abusive) toward Lily. It’s not a completely unfounded take – it could probably be written well in a fic, and even be canon compliant – but you would really have to extrapolate that dynamic from the little information we’re given (as you pointed out). And more importantly (at least, re: that meta), I don't think JKR intended that interpretation at all.
Personally, I just don’t think it makes sense for the narrative for James and Lily to have been in an abusive relationship. And by the narrative, I mean Harry. If Jily is an abusive (or even just bad) relationship, that would have massive ramifications for the way Harry sees his parents. Ideally he would have to come to terms with that at some point – I don’t think it makes sense for James’s and Lily’s relationship to have been this way and not have significantly affected Harry – but imo JKR clearly does not want to deal with that. Like you said, the point of SWM – aside from foreshadowing Lily and Snape’s relationship – was to knock James off his pedestal and basically go, See, nobody’s perfect. <3 And the story is not interested in engaging with James’s behavior on a level any deeper than that lol. Which ok, I don’t love it, but if we’re not going to spend time dealing with morally gray James, then it doesn’t make sense for him to be even more morally gray (or rather, have him fall face first over the line into becoming a downright despicable person) by making him abusive toward Lily.
So that's my Doylist analysis: no way in hell did JKR intend Jily to be an abusive relationship, but she also didn't do a good enough job defending and/or redeeming James after SWM, so we're just left to speculate about how much he really changed. Still, I don't think "JKR is a bad writer" is a very satisfying answer. After all, the only reason that I'm engaging with this text in the first place is because I'm a fan of it, so I think it's also worth looking at it from a Watsonian perspective – or at least, to accept the events of the book as they're written and try to fill in the blanks. (Imo so much of the fun of fandom is trying to fill in those blanks in a satisfying way, to expand upon a character and try to reach a more interesting conclusion than the author did... And I would be remiss not to mention that, because it undoubtedly influences the way that I (and probably also you, if you're on this side of tumblr) engage with the text.)
So for me, as a Marauders era fan, I’m faced with: ok, I don’t really like the idea of these two characters together, but they canonically got together, and I think the story is better because they got together, and it’s better if they genuinely like each other, and it all had to happen somehow – so how can I explain it in a way that both makes sense with the story and is satisfying to me? And my answer to that is twofold.
First, I imagine that James was not always quite such an awful guy (as in, not always as showy, combative, and cruel as he was in SWM). After all, there is a glimmer of goodness in him when he chooses to save Snape’s life during the Prank, revealing that somewhere deep down, he does in fact have a moral compass. And second, I think that he has to have changed. And I mean a genuine change – one that might not have resulted in completely different behavior (after all, he was still hexing Snape through his seventh year) – but regardless, something that makes him seriously reflect on his actions and reconsider his motivations. His behavior in SWM is just too inexcusable for him to get with Lily – partly because Lily is generally framed as a Very Good Person, and partly because regardless of how she is framed, James was still awful to her – without any self-reflection or growth. Of course, the problem then becomes explaining this in a satisfying way!
And I have some ideas in mind – but they’re definitely more speculation than fact, and omg this post is long enough already. Luckily, I received another ask on this topic, so I will save my self-indulgent headcanons for that.
There is one last thing I want to mention, which is (part of) my reasoning for why James may not have been such a bully all the time and why I think he has the capacity for change, and it's been nagging at me ever since I read that meta post (which again, presumably started this whole thing). I think one thing that bothers a lot of people (including me!) about James is that it seems like he chooses to pick on Snape in SWM because of Lily’s presence. He wants to show off to her, so he keeps looking over to the girls by the water, he ruffles his hair, he deepens his voice, and he tries to get her attention by targeting Snape. Following this logic, we can presume that James wouldn’t have done any of this if Lily hadn’t been there – and that’s the part that got me thinking. I have to wonder if Lily was perhaps not the only person who James wanted to impress in that scene… in fact, I think it’s incredibly likely that James would have acted differently if the Marauders hadn’t been there! (Harry has "the distinct impression that Sirius was the only one for whom James would have stopped showing off," and Sirius saying that he's bored is the inciting incident for James spotting Snape...!) Yes it’s going to be a James masculinity analysis because this is what happens every time I talk about these fucking characters apparently. So idk, stick around if you’re into that.
And of course, thank you for the ask!
#i’m sure this was more than you bargained for lol but i hope this answer was satisfactory. it took me a whole week to write 😭#actually i guess it wasn't rly an answer because there wasn't rly a question. we're having high-minded debates in the literary salon lol#that said feel free to put more takes/opinions/questions/whatever in my ask box. i love to chitchat#asks#my posts#meta#hp meta#jily#james potter#lily evans#anti jily#pro jily#<- it really is both tho.#hp#hp fandom#hp marauders#marauders era#lily potter#harry potter#harry potter fandom#harry potter meta#the marauders era#marauders#marauders fandom#mwpp#wizarding world
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Callouses on his gentle hands was absolutely adorable! It kept making me thing of a continuation of the sorts where some years pass and the reader actually enlisted in the military earning the code name Bird too without Price having any knowledge. Only to show up when he's a captain maybe even to be part of 141 or something important.
Idk if this is a possible request as I don't want to bother you but it would be amazing if there was some well timed banter and just generally happy.
Again your writing is so good it leaves me speechless I love it so much! 👁️〰️👁️
Calluses and Milky Scars
Pairing: John Price x F!Reader
Synopsis: It's been years since you've seen or heard from John and yet you still can't get him out of your head. But can a chance meeting rekindle old emotions? (18+)
Word Count: 16.1k
Warnings: Angst, typical violence & gore, talks of human trafficking, vulgar language, eventual fluff, banter, smut, honestly I think I wrote switch!Price without even realizing it, p in v sex, fingering, teasing, breeding kink, etc.
A/N: Imma be honest I hate the first part of this duology - it was one of my earlier works - so I made this as standalone as possible. So if you don't wanna read the first part (please don't) you can still understand this one just fine by itself. (this is also an excuse for more smut practice). Anyway, enjoy! Part 1
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
They only saw the glint of a blade, the metal reflecting the light of a mist-filled night back into the whites of their eyes. You could see the result of your form in their terror-stricken visages as, one after one, they succumbed to the ministrations of your unyielding determination.
You had forgotten when the act of taking a life had become so easy for you. It was as natural as breathing, now. Elementary. Your fingers could pull a trigger just as fast as they would raise for a handshake or a wave. There was little need to be shy about it – your days as a victim were far behind you, and ‘Bird’ was nothing more than a callsign uttered under hushed breaths. Said behind back alleys by Human Traffickers with fear-slick eyes.
It was no longer uttered in a deep British accent, the word making your skin tingle and cheeks heat. No matter how much you longed for it to be.
You were a Captain in the military now. Working hand-in-hand with the CIA under the direction of a certain Kate Laswell. You even commanded your own Squad that specializes in getting others out of the very situation you had been in years ago with no mercy or hesitation.
Revenge, you decided, was most likely why this was easy for you.
You enjoyed it.
“Perimeter clear, Captain,” Wren speaks into your earpiece as you step over the bodies at your feet, boots splashing through puddles of blood so starkly contrasting the grass it makes you smirk.
“Move up.” A balaclava covers your face, and sweat dribbles down your brow before you blink it out of your eye.
Around your chest, the M4A1 sits with its familiar weight, and you wipe the life-fluid from your crude combat knife before sheathing it at your thigh. You had taken out three stragglers at the South End of the current Targets territory, your blood singing sweetly in your veins at the prospect of finally crossing another name off your list.
“Eagle,” Your voice bounces off trees and low shrubs, and you continue forward as your fingers press the button on the old-issue radio. There were better versions nowadays, and you got teased for still using the ancient one you have currently strapped to your chest, but it was sentimental to you. An old friend had given it to you for safekeeping a long time ago…How many years now was it since you had seen or heard from John Price? Ten? Fifteen? Who could really tell, anyhow? Time moved quickly, and you ran through it even quicker.
Your sharp eyes flick out over the view as you exit the brush, standing on the top of a large ridge – a series of warehouses lit up with large spotlights below your perch makes you frown.
“Let’s get this started then, shall we?” You mutter, shifting your feet and rolling your shoulders. “Blackout in 3.”
“Roger that, Ma’am.”
You watch the guards walking like obsidian ants below, your predatory gaze missing nothing – you spot the mannerisms fairly quickly; who limps, who favors their left over their right. Who’s sleeping on the job. A first victim was almost immediately chosen as you tilt your head and feel the chilled breeze on your visible skin. Your Unit knows the procedures you’ve ingrained into them and they’re watching just as closely and predatory as you are.
All four, including you, are stationed in a circle around the area, with Eagle, the man with the sniper rifle, taking point far off into the trees on a higher portion of the topography. Three seconds of prep time come and go quickly. And so do the lights.
A series of muffled pops and a shattering of glass break the night into chaos, and then the illumination goes out entirely. The area is plunged into an inky darkness of your own command – you revel in it. And then the screams begin.
“Take ‘em.” You mutter through the open channel, and your feet then propel you forward, dodging trees and jumping downed branches as you skid down the slope. Your heart beats with adrenaline, the hunt making your nerves twitch.
In your grip, you ready your weapon, flicking off the safety as shots begin to ring out over the land. Eagle was taking off the ones he could, but if you had to guess, Shrike was already in the fray, letting her face get bloody from the close quarters she favored. You only hoped the woman wouldn’t go overboard this time. Thrush was usually the one to help keep her head on, but the man was across the territory with his own hostiles to wipe the board of.
You fire at the first shadow with a light finger, watching it drop and pivoting to pull the trigger at two more before they knew what was happening – too panicked by the sudden assault seemingly out of nowhere.
“Shrike,” Your voice wafts over the buzzing line, “mind yourself. I don’t need you put on Suspended Leave again.”
“Don’t worry, Ma’am,” Thrush’s light voice meets your ears as you take cover behind a vehicle directly in front of one of the warehouses, “I’m making my way to her now.”
“Ah, Fuck off, Thrush!” Shrike growls, and there’s a distinct sound of someone’s gurgling last breath in the background. It makes you let out a huff of demented laughter. “I know the limits!”
“I don’t think she knows the limits, Ma’am,” Eagle grunts over the call, and a shot sizzles past your head and takes out a charging man that was making his way to your hunched and hidden form. “I really don’t.”
Rushing forward out of your cover, you chuckle breathlessly as Wren’s dignified voice pipes in.
“I’m making my way to the main building and getting set to download the data. Target’s nowhere to be seen, Captain.” Your lips thin under the fabric and you grunt, feeling a bullet graze your bicep. Ducking in an instant, you set your feet and fire, running past before the sound of the body slamming to the ground behind you can reach your ears. A burning heat enters your arm, but you barely acknowledge it.
“Eagle, cover her until I get there.”
“Affirm.”
“Shrike, Thrush, report. How’s the other warehouse lookin'?” Your body skids across the ground, and your hand connects with the warehouse you needed to clear before making your way to Wren and the Mainframe.
Half of the Op was data retrieval, and the other was taking out a human trafficker only named in his file as Buck – bastard’s been running for a long time, and you needed to leave him a bloody mess before he kept his ‘business’ going. Laswell only sent in your Squad because she knew you could get it done with an efficiency no one else could. Nearly a perfect success rate got the attention of people worldwide; your waiting list was long of the places the CIA wanted to send you and your team.
But you didn’t care, as long as your own list was getting checked off they could fly your ass to Antarctica for all it mattered.
“Our warehouse is cleared out. Must not have expected us…they were running around with their heads chopped off.”
Shrike snickers. “Just like chickens.”
“Good. Join up with Wren and make sure she can get the download completed. Copy?” You grasp the large metal handle and growl, locking your arms and pushing with all of your strength. The weight makes your thighs shake, but you only open it enough for you to slip inside, gun at the ready as breaths puff from your mouth.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Boots shuffle over the concrete floor, and your ears twitch in the quiet darkness at the crunch of stray gravel underfoot. Your finger shifts slowly to the trigger, glaring into the nothingness.
It was silent.
You heard it then, like a spike to the heart – the panicked breathing; the sounds of shaking lungs and grasping hands. Sounds all so familiar it made you pause, mind for an instant blanking at the implications.
There were people here. Drowning in fear.
You could see them in the corners, scores of bodies piled on top of one another to find some semblance of comfort. Their eyes wink in the moonlight of a single window in the roof, and the stench nearly makes you want to gag. Blinking, you lower your gun, feet shifting to stand straight like a statue; heart racing. These people weren’t supposed to be here, and already vicious comparisons to your own rescue by a certain man a long time ago invade your mind. Calluses seem to burn your hands under your gloves, and a gentle imaginary prod at an injury on your forehead makes the milky scar ache.
He readies the wipe in one of his hands, the other coming up to your jaw. When you tense he freezes, but as soon as the hesitance leaks away from you like a wave, the slow motion returns to his limbs; his fingers come to grab at your chin, gently holding your head in place. When you place more weight into his hold and release a deep-chested sigh of content he quirks a dark eyebrow.
“This might sting, Doll,” John whispers.
“That’s alright,” You mutter back, staring into his beautiful eyes as the wipe comes into view in the side of your vision. “Not your fault.”
He only releases a puff of air from his lips before adding the smallest amount of pressure to your forehead, running the wipe over the red and swollen flesh.
Taking a deep breath one of your hands goes to your radio stiffly. Eagle needed to know about this so he could send a message to Laswell – get an immediate Medical Evac for these people.
In your hyper-focussed state, memories you wished would stay away rear their head; infect your intuition and common sense. You missed the click of the safety until the barrel of the pistol was level with the back of your head. Freezing, your fingers tense over the device, your body going rigid and muscles tight as the people in the corners gasp and cry out into the night.
A panting man stands behind you and you feel his hands shaking as the barrel digs into the balaclava’s fabric.
Well, that’s unexpected.
“Show me your hands,” He breathes heavily, and you feel his puff of air echo out over the open space. Tinged with fear. Dripping with adrenaline.
Your lips pull back into a steady, hidden, smirk, head tilting as your hands slowly drift from your radio and let your weapon hang from its strap around your chest; feeling it bounce off the various packs and supplies you carry with pride. They splay beside your head, fingers lazily loose and leather gloves squealing into the night.
Selene herself holds her silver breath, the winds sucked down into Hades as Cerberus breaks sinner’s bones with his savage jaws and blood-slick teeth. It was silent.
Born and bred to violence, there truly wasn’t a better place for you to be than in the CIA. This was Hell, but you could play that black-clad ruler’s game just the same. You’d been dodging him for years.
“T-toss your gun to the floor.”
“You know that won’t matter.” You look behind you, side-eyeing that shaking would-be threat. Phobos lives in his very being. Coward. Pathetic. Red-hot anger lights your nerves, iris narrowing to black slits. This thing – he was little more than an entitled boy in a man’s body. Using others for his gain just like others had used you. This was your Target.
This was Buck.
“So this is the one who made an empire on the suffering of innocents.” You mumble, unafraid and unbothered with a scoff. “I really expected more than a man who plays with his food.”
Yes, the adrenaline was running in your veins; you were human. It was natural. But the way the wailing birds rampaged in your chest wasn’t – you should be afraid, not angry. Not enraged to the point you were shaking; fingers twitching for your knife. For spilled blood to coat the earth.
Phobos was this man’s ruler, but that Fear God’s father was Ares. And Ares was yours.
“I…I said drop your fucking weapon you bitch–!”
Your opposite hand knocks Buck’s wrist to the side and your body twists. In a single fraction of a second between the loud misfire that hits the floor and the ringing in your ears, the knife at your thigh finds purchase in his pliable neck. Crimson sprays over your eyes; staining the balaclava as your body falls to the ground as you jam the blade deeper – all the way to the crossguard.
Buck grumbles wetly from under you, hands coming to weakly grasp at your arms and attempt to pry your unyielding body from him. His grip is as strong as a child’s, and as blood spurts from his mouth and entry wound, you slap your free hand over his face and twist the knife. Strangling the hilt in your grasp, you viciously jerk your limb, sending the edge sliding over his neck; cutting tendons and arteries. Creating a red-lipped smile from ear to ear that explodes with gore.
Buck was already dead before the puddle over the ground grew an inch in diameter.
Ripping your weapon out, you shove your boot into his chest and push off, stumbling to your feet as you stare down wide-eyed. Your digits shake, but the flickering of your gaze goes from the dead eyes to the open mouth of the corpse. Flicking your wrist, you splatter more blood on the floor to rid some of it from your blade before sheathing it.
Gripping your radio, you speak clearly into the line.
“Eagle this is the Captain – get in contact with Laswell immediately. Civvies in the far South warehouse. Ask for Medical Evac.”
Say to bring only women, you want to growl but refrain. That was impossible to manage.
You stare at them now, the innocents, and see your own path reflected in the many colors and the feral glints in their irises. In the way their bodies huddle like cats with their backs flared. If life had been different, would you still be in a situation like this – waiting for your own John Price to break you out? It was a difficult question. Far more challenging to answer than why the body behind you was staining the concrete with blood and tears.
…What would have happened if he had never kneeled down before you that day? Offered you his hand stained with calluses and gunpowder residue?
You blink at the thin bodies, gaze flowing to each and every one in turn. With a slow motion you begin forward, hands at your sides and visible; you draw the memory to you. The one you think of often.
You had stayed there in fear, curled up in the corner, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Until John.
“Ma’am,” He had said, kneeling on one leg while his hands clutched his M16 to his chest, the muzzle still smoking, “I’m Lieutenant John Price in Command of Unit Bravo. You’re safe now.”
Unit Bravo? Safe? You had wondered, looking up at the man with confusion. How can I be safe?
Nonetheless, when he offered you a hand, you had taken it, looking in awe at how gently he gripped your limb in his own; John’s limb completely swallowed yours and yet held you like delicate glass.
You stopped before a woman far too young to be in a situation like this and kneeled. She watched you with a shaking body, the others curling away in fear. They didn’t know you, and so they feared you. Taking a breath, your hand raises, and the woman’s eyes are laser-focused on your form.
I should make myself smaller, you think. And so you do.
The fabric is sweat-heavy; laden with dirt and other substances, but you grasp it without hesitation and peel it off of you. It sits in your hand with the weight of the past in the thick polyester threads. Swallowing down saliva at the breeze that hits your face, you watch the lady blink at you, her gaze filled with confusion.
An easy smile comes to your face; if they hadn't just seen you murder a man, they would not believe you to be the same person. Yours was not the face of a killer – of someone who twists the knife deep and revels in death. It was soft beside the scar above your eyebrow, easy to look at. Innocent.
A simple Bird, no. A vulture perhaps suited you better, if they were to get into specifics.
You clear your throat and they all flinch.
“Ma’am,” Your voice carries. Again, not the voice of a monster. But even Ares marries a beauty. Could you not be a spawn of them? Beautiful and utterly bloodied by the rules of war? Oh, yes, that’s what you were, you had to be. Nothing else would make any sense. But they gravitate to you nonetheless – war and love often go hand in hand. Especially when one killed the ruler of their torment. “I’m the Captain of Raptor Squad. You can call me Bird, if you want. It’s alright. We’re gonna get you out of here and get you some help, okay? You’re safe now.”
The woman can’t help but nod sheepishly.
Who says no to an offspring of Gods themselves?
—
The helicopter ride back was silent, with everyone tired and covered in more blood, dirt, and sweat than they can recall. Buck’s body was stuffed into a black bag and sitting in the walkway at your feet – you needed it for positive identification back on Base. You had shuffled back into the balaclava, taking comfort in the security and anonymity it lent. Below, your eyes watch the word whizz past, one foot limply hanging off the side thousands of feet above the ground; you swish it back and forth like a child and allow yourself to think.
You had joined the military only a few years after John had rescued you – much against the wishes of your therapist, but seeing as you were of sound mind, it wasn’t that difficult to enlist. The brown-haired Brit had sent you letters for the first three months after you had left the Base you had been recovering at and then, inexplicably, they had stopped. No letters, no contact. The radio – along with you – was too far away to get a signal; that was how it ended.
Not with a kiss or a soldier’s goodbye, just nothing. Silence.
But you never held it against him. Perhaps, you reasoned and partially believed, he was already dead. At the end of the day, he had been a great motivator for you, and over the years your fists and skills had propelled you to top ranks. Laswell had been in contact soon after you had been promoted to Lieutenant and Raptor Squad had been formed when you had chosen the most violent and perfect bastards to join it.
From there it was win after win and the CIA soon counted this team as one of the most lethal in its roster. You’ve been all over the world.
More than I could imagine I would become in a concrete corner and locked in a cage.
Your eyes watched the expanse of forest outside, but there was still something missing. Why had John just…stopped? It was the one question you could never answer.
Did I really not matter to him at all? Around your vest, your fingers twitch as the helicopter bounces on airwaves. Blue eyes still haunted you – the ones that held silver starlight hostage. How they used to soften with care when they looked down at you. John shouldn’t have mattered this much to you.
Why can’t I just let go of him?
You bite at your hidden lip with sharp teeth, peeling back the skin as Wren shifts in her seat beside you. She speaks into the comms to avoid yelling over the drowning sound of helo blades and you lock your eyes on her form.
“You might want to look at the info I retrieved from the Target’s mainframe, Captain. Didn’t Laswell mention she had a separate Task Force going after someone named Casilda Kalpana? She’s mentioned in this file.” Wren hands you her tablet, and you hold it in one of your hands as your hard eyes slim down the screen, taking in compiled sources.
Casilida Kalpana was on your list of Targets to take care of, but Laswell had given the job to another Task Force – designated TF-141 – for the small difference that this woman had ties to multiple terror organizations. Raptor Squad was no stranger to that, but Kate had also stated that the Captain of that group had been incredibly instant on taking it himself.
Your head tilts in memory.
“Kate, I’m not understanding why you think we can’t handle it.” You huff, shaking your head with an exasperated expression. “It’s no different than anything we’ve done before.”
“I have no problem with you participating, but the Captain pulled in a favor. Said he ‘felt obligated’ or something like that.” You pull a face, and Laswell glares at you from behind her desk. “Bird, I really don’t have the time to argue today – I’m stuck with stacks of papers because Keller decided to get himself lost again.”
“I’m not trying to argue, Kate.” Holding up your hands you chuckle and roll your eyes. “The only thing that matters is that the Target ends up six feet under at the end of the day. You know what it means to me.”
The Agent looks up from her papers and pauses for a moment, a pen placed between her digits, and her eyes soften around the gray edges.
“I can personally assure you, Captain, that this Task Force will see it done…Now hurry up and get ready for your own mission – I hear South America is warmer than usual this time of year. Pack a cold drink.”
The words in the file make your stomach churn; leading to your eyes widening. You flip the tablet back to Wren and radio Eagle who’s blankly watching Shrike and Thrush play rock-paper-scissors across from you.
“Eagle,” the man’s head snaps to you and he blinks, “Patch through to Laswell. Tell her to gather Task Force 141 in the meeting room on Base and wait for me. Under no circumstances should they be allowed to leave on the Op for the HVT Casilda Kalpana. We’ve got vital intel.”
Eagle nods and gets to work on a secure call to Kate, as you turn to Wren, clapping her on the shoulder and leaning close to speak into her ear over the noise.
“Good work, Sergeant. Get all that transferred onto a flash drive for me, yeah?”
“On it, Ma’am.”
This just keeps getting better, doesn’t it? You sigh deeply, tilting your head back as the sun starts to slowly rise over the land, bathing it in an orange glow that spreads out like fire. The large Cargo plane following behind the Helicopter would carry the innocent victims of Buck back to Base, and you fight the urge to get in contact with the pilot's headset to ask how it was going for them. It was hard to not get attached – especially when you knew what was probably going through their fear-stricken brains.
Left wondering in silence, your fingers pick at themselves over your gloves, peeling at frayed threads and durable fabric. As the minutes stretch into hours, you lift a hand and run a digit over your scar, caressing the skin as the forest pulls back and buildings emerge. Turbulence overtakes the helicopter, and your hand grabs the net on the side of the wall to steady yourself as the descent begins.
Settling your nerves, you wait until the ‘all good’ from the cockpit before you hop out, signaling with your finger for your Squad to follow close behind. Someone else would come and grab the body bag – it wasn’t your problem anymore. Your feet pound the Tarmac, and you can’t help the look you send up to the sky, watching the cargo plane on the horizon as it comes closer. Frowning under your covering, you re-focus.
I need to stop thinking about it – I always get like this with civvies.
It was hard not to. You only wanted to bring them the same comfort that John had brought you.
God, stop fucking thinking about him! His phantom haunts your every step like the two of you were Orpheus and Eurydice – only one of you wasn’t dead in the first place. One had left; abandoned you to the wolves. You had said you held no bad feelings towards the Brit but was that true? And if he was really dead, would you ever even know it?
Your feet carry you forward as the helicopter blades slice the air, making your clothes ruffle and shake under the combat vest and around your ankles.
The last time you had contact with the brown-haired man, you had been reading his letter in a free-of-charge home given to you until you could get on your feet and secure a job. John had been sent back to the UK on another assignment, leaving you a nervous wreck surrounded by people you didn’t know the intentions of. You had been excited to go to the mailbox at the time – even if being outside still made you nervous. Everything was just so big to you back then. When your fingers had opened the small metal box and found the white letter with the elegant script on top, you felt a smile rip open your face.
But the contents had been less than they usually were. Stiffer; formal in a way you had yet to associate with the man. He had always been nice to you. But maybe he had grown past that – you feared that thought.
“This’ll be my last letter for a while, Bird. I’m going Black. Make sure to remember to go outside and drink water for me, yeah?”
-Price
There had been the start of another sentence before it had been scribbled out and then had been it. No updates; no return address this time so you could write him back. And then you had bever received another letter until you had gotten fed up with your life going nowhere and enlisted. John Price had disappeared, and whether he was dead or halfway across the world you knew not.
He had been the only man you had trusted until Eagle and Thrush had become a part of your group. Still, even now, the opposite sex made you hesitant – you didn’t like being alone with a man you didn’t know. Your line of work didn’t help that notion, either.
“Bird,” Shrike’s voice brings you back, and your eyes slide to your side to look at the smaller woman. You hum in question. “What was in the file Wren downloaded? And who’s Task Force 141?”
“All in due time,” You mutter back, your hand opening the front door of the main building. No one was bothering to remove their gear or clean themselves – they all understood from the way you were walking faster that this was important. “And as for TF-141, I have no idea. Never met ‘em.”
Wren coughs, and Shike looks over as Thrush and Eagle listen silently, the former handing a cigarette over to the other.
“One-Four-One is a Multinational Special Operations Unit comprised of operatives from all over the globe. Much like what we do, but on an infinitely larger scale. I believe Laswell asked our Captain to join it a year ago…” Wren trials, not bothering to look up from her tablet where she still reads through files and other intel from the mission.
Thrush’s eyes widened.
“Holy shit, really? And you passed it up?”
“Obviously,” You snort, itching at your bicep where the bullet graze still sits in dried blood and dirt. You repress an annoyed hiss of pain. “Why do you think I’m still stuck here with you lot?”
“Awe,” Shrike coos, scrunching her nose, “She loves us.”
“Loves to hate us,” Eagle whispers. You send a half-serious glare as Wren chortles to herself.
“I can always ask Kate for the offer again.” A loud uproar makes people in the hallway turn and stare, and you laugh under your face-covering, chest light.
You all arrive at the meeting room door and you don’t bother knocking, shoving your way inside with Shrike still giggling behind you. There’s the presence of five others in the room, and one stands at the head of a large table, a blank projector behind her in dim lighting. You don’t bother looking at anyone else – still keeping that habit of being nervous around new people.
Laswell sighs as she looks you over, crossing her arms over her blouse.
“We're all here, Captain. What was so urgent that you had to show us?” You slip past her and head to the computer atop a wooden stand, hearing whispers and muttered comments as your groups disperse around the room. Heavy stares that peel back skin like batter nearly make you sweat. They were boring into you, making your heart race.
They’re waiting for us, you remind yourself.
“Wren.” You call steadily and a second later you’re catching a well-aimed flash drive without looking and plugging it into the computer.
Before touching anything else, your hands reach up and grasp the balaclava, tearing it off your head in one quick motion and hooking it onto your belt. It was rare for you to wear it on Base.
A sharp inhalation of breath makes your fingers over the keys pause, but you only blink and return to typing – pulling up file after file. The air in the room was already tense, but whatever had just happened was setting off alarm bells.
Who are these people? What just happened?
Nonetheless, you get to work and turn to Laswell with the intel on screen.
“You’re going after a useless player. Casilda Kalpana is only a pawn in a much larger scheme.” Kate’s eyes snap from one digitized document to another as you continue, staring at her and no one else with a blank expression. “If you had sent your Task Force, they would have died. They already knew you were coming.”
“Well,” a distinctly Scottish accent makes your fingers twitch, but still you don't look as a comment is said into the air, “I’d have to disagree with that, now, Hen.”
Blood and sweat stain your skin, and you’re covered in more of it down your gear. Your gloves are stiff with dried crimson and even the small amount of interaction you had on the computer left stains over the keys. But you still find the energy to roll your eyes.
“Can you fight off upwards of one hundred hostiles while trying to sneak through a city so inhabited that it's practically a human ant hill? No offense, but if you answer that with ‘yes’ you may need a psych eval done.”
There’s a pause before a small masculine snort echoes out.
“Shut your gob, Garrick.”
“Laswell,” you remain on topic and the woman looks at you with inquisitive eyes, “The only way forward with this is cutting the head off the snake. I say we go one above Kalpana and take out the ring leader.”
“Abel?” Kate’s eyebrows raise, “Bird we’ve been looking for him for years – I don’t know what you expect us to do with noth–”
Your finger hits a key, and the next document pops up.
“You can thank Wren for compiling the sources. Lots of emails to go through on the helicopter ride. Some not as fascinating as finding coordinates for a Target.”
“You can say that again,” said woman huffs from the back of the room, “you know how many kinky photos these people send to one another. Shit’s disgusting.”
The Scot speaks up again, “really? On a scale of how bad it was – one to ten, Bonnie.”
“Fifteen. I need my eyes bleached.”
There is a gaze that doesn’t leave you; it hadn't since you had walked through the door. It is hard and unrelenting. It does not falter or blink away.
It makes you nervous.
Sucking down a deep breath you try to focus on what everyone is saying, but it becomes more difficult with every second. Your hand reaches up to your head, scratching at your scar as the presence follows your actions.
Who is this? You wonder, but clench your jaw and listen to Laswell speak.
“--reliable is this source?”
Shrike answers from near the door, chuckling, “very, Ma’am. Rarely do these people sugarcoat things. Small brains, you understand?”
“...At the very least I need more than a location and a vague date. Bird,” your head turns slowly away from the floor, “can you give me a week?”
The hairs on the back of your neck stand.
“A week?” You frown, eyes narrowing at the blonde, “He could be off in the wind by then. Do you have any idea how much this guy runs – I’ve been tracking him down ever since I joined, Kate. This is the most I’ve gotten in that entire time.” Splaying out one of your hands for emphasis, everyone hangs off your words. “He’s the source of all of it. When you cut a snake up, the head can still bite, sure, but at least you know where not to step. Kill Abel now, and all of them are left bloody in the dirt. Ready to be picked off.”
Before the stoic agent can say anything, the radio on your chest sizzles to life and you forget about the hot eyes and the thick air.
The people from the warehouse.
Hand snapping up, you turn your head down into it, facing forward as your eyes stiffen.
“Cargo plane is clear for landing, Ma'am. Just thought I’d let the Squad know.”
“Thank you, Cadet. I’ll be there momentarily to help out…” You blink, “Try to make sure only female medics work on them but make do if you have to.”
“Copy that. I’ll spread the word.”
“Rog.” You don’t bother to take the USB from the computer before you turn away – they’ll all go over it while you see to the Civvies.
“How many this time?” Kate asks seriously as you slip past, her body pivoting to orient herself as you pass.
“Warehouse full.” You grunt, itching at your bicep and shuffling to the exit. “Less than last time.” The agent knew better than to try and stop you.
“That’s an old radio you’ve got.” The British accent makes you falter for a second; it was deep, aged like a fine wine that coated the vowels with clipped authority. Familiar for some reason, but you took no notice of it. “Must be one helluva long story, eh?”
“Very long,” You say as your nimble hand connects with the door, “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to tell it–”
Your body freezes as you send a quick glance to the voice’s owner; stance suddenly locked tighter than a bank vault as your optics find familiar blue eyes.
…John? There was suddenly a violent silence in your head, a sheet of white paper held in front of your brain to block it from firing.
He looked older, but then again, it had been years. Many years. But the build of his face hadn’t changed so much to a point you’d be unable to recognize those blue eyes. Oh, that blue. Like deep water and sea foam on a cold shore. Was it possible to know someone only by their eyes? You had to argue that, yes, you could. Because the man sitting down at the table, flanked by three others that all watch the interaction with confused eyes, is not the Lieutenant you remember.
The beard was new – shiny brunette like his hair under his bucket-hat-covered head – along with the stature. Before, Price had been large, sure, but now he was built like a bear. Your tense eyes slip over the tight compression shirt covering his arms, the bulk of his thighs as he shifts in his chair to stand up firmly. John clears his throat, and your face heats under the flesh, but upon the doorknob, your fingers strangle the metal. He was taller.
In your chest, the aggressive pounding of your heart rivals a cheetah.
What the fuck is he doing here? You can’t help but glare when the man frowns, his eyelids half-down in a studying look as his eyebrows push in. Like he was just as surprised as you were. Hesitant. But I’m not the one who disappeared. I’m not the one who made the other think they died.
When your face shifts to anger, John freezes, his hands coming up to cross and grip the collar of his beige combat vest looking about as awkward as he can. When you huff out a breath through your nose, his feet shuffle shoulder length apart. Ever the soldier – waiting for a lip-lashing. You watch the wrinkles on his forehead with growing hatred.
“Bird, I…”
Breathe.
“Well, this just keeps getting fucking better and better.” Without another glance, you wrench the door open and shoulder though, tossing it back with a decent enough force to make the wall rattle as you disappear down the hall.
But he won’t leave your thoughts. John Price. Alive. Here.
What kind of game was this?
Your hands are shaking at your sides when the door, already far down the hallway, opens quickly. But the feet are not heavy. Wren slides up next to you, her feet pumping. She doesn’t say anything, just walks next to you as your eyes shutter closed and you take a deep breath.
“You up for helping out in the med ward?” You force yourself to say, hoping to distract yourself as your face once more moves back to a picture of innocent calm.
How can he be here? Fuck…h-how? John was part of the 141 for this entire time? Did he know I was here? He couldn't have, no. But what if he did…
Why didn’t he say anything?
“I’m certainly more inclined to lead my abilities to the nurses, Captain. You’ll find no resistance from me.” You liked that about Wren. She never pried about things she knew you didn’t want to talk about.
“Good. They’ll need them.”
—
“John!” You laugh, hands coming up to your head where the Lieutenant had placed his beanie, the chill outside had made your nose hurt and your breath puff out in clouds.
Standing just outside the main exit of the medical ward, you grab the fabric as your face turns up to the tall man at your side. He had just shown up from a meeting, and the door closed behind his back as he locked his arms on his vest collar and set his feet shoulder length apart.
“Well now, what’re you doin’ out here?” It was rare for you to be out of the building – open places still scared you. “You alright?”
But you needed to think.
Stiffly smiling, you try to hide your running thoughts from the man who narrows his deep blues at you. He shifts closer, and you can feel his heat melt into you, making your shivering slow for a moment. He made all of it better.
John huffs.
“You’re about as easy to read as anyone, Bird. Go on, then.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal,” You play with your fingers, skin pulling tight. “I’m just overthinking everything.”
“You’re nervous.” He states, glancing ahead with a tilted head and a raised brow at no one.
Under your feet, the snow shrieks as you shuffle, looking to the ground and sighing deeply. There was no point in hiding anything from him and his damn hawk eyes.
“It’s just…I’ve missed so much, y’know?” Your teeth bite your lips as you feel his firm eyes on you, locked onto the side of your face and caressing your visage with their path. You blink out over the base, seeing everyone move from one place to another with a purpose in their steps. “I have no idea what I’ll do with myself all alone.”
Whispering out the last sentence, you look at the ground, lips in a line.
It’s a good while before the Lieutenant speaks, and he sighs deeply before he does. You don’t suppose he’s ever had to deal with something like this before. But he’s learning. All the others at Base and in Bravo Unit had been surprised that the two of you had formed such a tight bond in the limited time you had known each other. John Price wasn’t known to be the easiest person to speak to – especially when traumatized victims were on the other end. His stoic and quite confident attitude was the main deterrent, usually, but his hard eyes and face that rarely showed any emotion were a close second.
But to you, he was the nicest person you had ever spoken to. He never made fun, poked, or prodded, and he certainly didn’t act mean or bossy toward you. John was kind and warm; gentle when you got to know him.
And you quite liked his company.
John’s sigh puffs out over the air, and you grab the sides of his beanie and pull it farther over your head to cover your ears. You send him a curious glance and watch his fingers tighten, one eyelid creasing farther than the other when he looks at you in turn. Locking eyes, you can’t help the small smile that twitches your lips, liking the natural handsomeness of his face. You wonder what a full beard would look like over his cheek beside the current scratchy stubble that you had always known.
His eyes flick to your lips, and his teeth grind against each other for a moment before they snap back to your face.
“They’re sendin’ you out in three days, yeah?” John asks, scratching at his jaw with three fingers before settling his hands back into his vest.
“Yeah.” You affirm, smile turning to a frown. The man tenses minutely beside you before clearing his throat.
“Well, where they shippin’ you off to? Someplace nice I’d imagine. Heard somethin’ about bloody Oregon, but they wouldn’t give me much more than that.” You tilt your head at that, expression turning amused.
“You asked?”
“‘Course.” He raises a brow, and his eyes crinkle down at you. “You expect me not to?”
Face suddenly hotter than the sun, you blink rapidly, snapping your head to look out at the base once more. You may have imagined it, but John’s chest jerks in velvety chuckles you miss due to the ringing in your ears.
What was happening to you?
A small silence wraps its arms around you before you gather the ability to speak again.
“I think it was Washington, actually.”
“Hm, that it?” John frowns to himself, “Lots of people, Love. How are you feelin’ ‘bout it?”
“I don’t really get a choice,” you chuckle, licking your chapped lips as your pulse rises, “whoever has space was kind enough to offer it, how can I say no to that?”
“By tellin’ ‘em you don’t want to.” Price shuffles so he’s standing in front of you, blocking the people you were watching. He splays his hands at his sides and waits, blinking with a loose jaw. You nod an approval, though feel confused.
His hands go to rest on your arms, holding them incredibly light; barely applying pressure but you lean into him anyways. You enjoyed it when he touched you like this – the only person you would allow to do so besides nurses. Your tension softens into pliable clay when he watches you.
You could get lost in them, you knew, his eyes, if you stared for too long. There was an undeniable attraction to the man that you wanted to push away, but couldn’t help yourself. John was everything to you – he brought you books to read, sat with you as you ate in the cafeteria; he sat up with you when you radioed him about nightmares in the small hours of morning.
That memory made you giddy. Price would stay in his barracks – unable to leave because of curfew – but would speak to you over your shared channel. Use that soothing tone of his to make your eyes flicker back into slumber until he hears your soft breath over the line and sighs.
John’s throat releases a grunt, bringing you back to the present. He was staring at you softly, a small smile on his lips. You try not to suck in a soft breath. How long had you been staring at him?
“Focus, Bird.” You can’t stop the mute giggle on your tongue.
“Sorry.”
The Lieutenant's head tilts, and his usual expression shifts back. He studies your face, eyes sliding over to the bandages above your eyebrow.
“If you don’t wanna go, tell ‘em, okay? No one can force you to do anything.” He sighs. “I need you to understand that.”
“...Where else would I go?” You mutter, keeping your eyes locked. “It’s not like I have a home, John.”
His eyes snap away to look at the wall behind you, narrowing. The expression makes you grin, finding it funny when the man thinks so hard. John blinks, cycling back to stare at your lips.
The air heats and in your chest, you feel your heart beat just a tiny bit faster. Grumbling, Price peels back and releases you before his hands travel up to his beanie. He pushes it down farther, lightly ruffling your head in the process.
“Hey!” You huff, annoyed. Your hands flap above your head, shoving his digits away as his chest jumps in low chuckles. “Jerk.”
You shove the fabric from your eyes and beam.
“Couldn’t help myself, Love. Here, let me.” John’s hands find your chin, fingers so delicately, brushing the chilled flesh that immediately warms at his work. One limb stays, while the other goes to fix the position of the hat.
Sucking in a slow breath, you look up into his eyes and blink as he focuses on your head with a concentrated furrow in his brow. How did he always manage to make you feel safe? Take away your worries as if they had never existed? If there was one man on earth that could make all of this better, it was the one standing right in front of you.
It would always be John.
“Will you keep in touch?” You whisper, nervous for the answer, and his eyes momentarily snap to yours as his motion slows. A pause.
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.”
“Hm, well then, I'll write ‘til you tell me to stop.”
—
The reports make you want to bash your own skill in. In the dim light of your office, you sit into the deep hours of the night in your chair, spare reading glasses on your nose to help you force away the blurriness from fatigue. You had spent the whole day with Wren in the medical ward helping the civvies get settled and the nurses with the workload. Such a large influx of patients had set them back for weeks, but it couldn't be helped. They weren’t the people to push anyone away – you knew that firsthand.
You were still in contact with a few nurses from your own stay all those years ago. Good people.
Swishing another of your signatures on a confidentiality document, you slide it to the side and stifle a yawn with the back of your hand before picking up the next file. Your fingers flick the manilla paper open to where you plan to write gruesome details into the blank lines of the sheets inside, and you just begin to let your ink bleed into the paper when your mind suddenly runs to a brown-haired Brit. Pausing, you blink sleepily before pulling the pen back and setting it on the table with a long sigh.
“Fucking hell.” A groan escapes your lips. This had been going on for hours. You’d try to start something and then the thoughts would get blocked by that damn man.
He was even more handsome than you remembered him. Lightly tapping the tabletop with your nails, you can’t deny the heat that had entered your body when you had seen John again. The coarse beard. The writhing muscle of his thighs paired with that tapered waist.
He had aged beautifully down to the very atoms of his makeup to a point it made your breath go thin; pupils widened in a primal display of need. It was pathetic. But the carnal attraction had always been there along with the normal crush. There was something you had learned a million times over – it was never going to be anyone else but John Price. Even so, it wasn’t for a lack of trying. You’d had plenty of boyfriends throughout the years – small flings that never lasted.
None made you feel as secure as the once Lieutenant’s simple presence had. Wren had told you in the med ward that he was a Captain just the same as you, now. Captain Johnathan Price. If anything, it made you mad that the title had a nice ring to it.
Your face twists into thinly-veiled annoyance. What gave him the right to come waltzing back? You thought he was fucking dead. Instead, you had been ghosted so bad you joined the goddamn military to help cope. Fuck, maybe your therapist had been right all along.
You’re just about to let off a spring of audible curses when a knock on your office door makes you flinch, eyes scrunching before sense finally finds you again.
Can’t I wallow in peace? You ask yourself, hoping Shrike hadn’t gotten into a fistfight at the local bar in town again. I swear I need to put Thrush on watch duty for that woman. Maybe Eagle’ll convince him for me.
“Come in.” You stand as the door opens slowly, hinges echoing out as you slide the reading glasses off your face and toss them down. “I swear if Shrike got suspended again I’m going to hit her over the head with the code-of-conduct manual.”
Snapping your fingers and cracking your neck, you huff when no one responds before turning to the door.
“What’s going–Oh.”
John stood in the doorway, wearing nothing more than a thick black cotton shirt that covered his large arms and hugged just the perfect amount over his triceps. It showcased his large shoulders before being tucked into his cargo pants. For once in your life, you think you’ve seen him without some sort of hat on his person.
Freezing, you stare wide-eyed at him. John frowns from where he lets the door automatically shut, nodding his head towards you firmly in greeting as your heart kickstarts. His large hands enter his pockets like some guilty teenager as you gape at him.
John clears his throat.
“Bird.”
“Get out.” You deadpan, not bothering to hear the man out. Price groans, head tilting to the side to glare at the wall as his jaw clenches.
“Love, would you let me explain–”
“No. Frankly, I’ve had enough adrenaline rushes for one day, you damn jerk. Now, get out of my office.” You begin making your way from around the table; pulse flying through every point in your body.
You can’t be here, John, you clench your fists, please, you can’t be here.
Annoyance sparks in those blues that you love to stare into, but all you do is go to stand right in front of the man with a violet frown that he mirrors.
“Bird.” He says again, setting his feet.
“John.” You raise a brow and cross your arms. The Brit growls, gaze flicking away with a heat to it before wafting back like fog over water.
“What’re you doing here?” He says slowly, trying to keep the peace between the two of you.
“Well,” under your arms, your hands shake, “what the hell do you think? Working the same as everyone else. Or at least I was trying until you showed up.”
“That’s not what I bloody fuckin’...” John trails off, closing his eyes before taking a deep breath and letting the tension in his shoulders loosen. His hands exit his pockets, and you stare as they splay by his waist. “Please, Love. I’m not trying to argue with you.”
“Arguing is the least of what you should be worried about.” Grumbling under your breath you lick your lips as his eyes lock with yours.
There was something there you couldn’t name, but it sat on the tip of your tongue – perhaps close to the emotions of guilt and horror that left the Brit’s jaw tight and his eyebrows constantly furrowed. Had he really never expected to see you again?
Yes. You figure with a heavy heart and a spark of hurt. Had you really been so discardable? In your mind, you had thought that you meant something to him. But maybe that was just another lie.
Letting out a scoff, you roll your eyes before looking away.
“Weren't really many options for me.” You concede a small portion of yourself if only to get him to leave so the way he makes your lungs sputter and face heat can cease. The others would make fun of you for this. A pointless crush on a man you hadn’t stopped thinking about for ages and held a great deal of resentment toward. When would the self-sabotage end with you? “Thought it was a better way to help others like me.”
You turn back and raise an expectant brow. “Happy now?”
John just continues to stare, lips thin and pulling under his beard hair as he raises a hand to itch at his jawline. A growl digs at your throat.
“John. Leave.” Not able to help yourself, you spit out, “if you wanted to quit talking to me all those years ago – you could have just told me instead of making me think you were fucking dead.”
The man’s head immediately flinches back, face scrunching in genuine confusion as his mouth parts. Under his shirt, you see his heart skip a beat.
“What are you sayin’ Bird? I never did anything fucken’ like that. What are you on about?” He shakes his head, “you stopped answering me.”
“The fuck are you saying? No, I didn’t!” Reeling back, you throw your hands above your head in a display of surrender; about to slink back to your desk and try to forget the heat of John’s body and the blaze of his eyes. “God, I give up on you and your stupid accent. I have reports to get done without your presence making me want to vomit.”
“Oh, my presence,” The Captain throws out a humorless chuckle that makes you want to cry. “Eh, you’re angry at me – you have every right to be, Love. I fucked up,” He growls, teeth gnashing, “But don’t fuckin’ lie to me. That is not what bloody happened – I never stopped writing you.”
“What the hell do you mean that’s not what happened?!” Your scream surprises you, with your voice bouncing off the wall like a demented banshee was in the room. You snap back around on quick feet and stalk over to the man. John’s eyes widen at the enraged tone and he blinks in shock as you continue, backing up a single step when you get in his face. “I waited and waited for you to send another letter – I waited months for nothing! Do you know how that felt, John? To-to go over in my head that maybe you never made it back from that Black Op at all? That you were dead somewhere in a fucking jungle or a desert or anywhere? I tried to get in contact with everyone, and nothing panned out. They wouldn’t tell me shit. So don’t stand there and say it never happened like that, because that is exactly how it happened!”
You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears are dripping down your chin, hitting the floor with muffled plops.
John is slack-jawed, eyebrows all the way up on his forehead and orbs stuck on you – on your obvious panic. His breath is heavy, and you feel it spread over your face from how close the two of you were; you had ended up pointing a finger right into the Captain’s peck. Under your harsh press, your flesh felt his pulse flying off the rails. Your nose scrunches as you sniffle, aggressively ripping your limb back to your side. Oh, but he had been so soft under you; his skin beneath that fabric reacting to your own by pulsing to life. John’s tongue wetted his lips.
Scoffing, you take a step back, but the man speaks before you can get far enough away. It was quiet, how he said the words, and his expression was one of genuine confusion and concern. His eyes were brighter than the moon – that gray space rock put to shame by the rolling beauty of his optics that reflect light far better than she ever could. Gentle Selene, how did it feel to be beaten by a man covered in more death and blood than anyone? Who’s skin is tough and callused so perfectly that a child of Ares wants to feel those fingers caress her in forbidden places. Oh, to be kissed and loved by him. To be worshiped like a god.
“What in the hell are you talking about?” It was nothing more than a gasp, and you see his fingers twitch to touch you; to hold you to him as if nothing had ever happened.
“John, I’m not repeating myself.” You sob down a breath, looking away and shrugging pathetically.
“Bird, listen to me. Eh, eh. I…I never stopped sending you letters, yeah?” Blinking, you turn back to him and frown dumbly, your eyes furiously dancing from one wrinkle of his forehead to another. A minute passes where you feel more tears drop to the floor.
“...What?” Confusion laces your eyes, “but I never got anymore after…”
You trail off, letting the sentence die as your heart does.
What does he mean he kept writing letters? I…I waited and I never got any. None of this made any sense, but the man in front of you was never one to lie. Ever.
John takes a step forward and you tense. He freezes, face hard and jaw set beneath his beard. You can tell he’s still confused – just as you are, but his attention is fully on you.
“Can I touch you?” He asks lowly, hands outstretched but never even grazing your shaking shock-filled form. His thick fingers are all separated, the digits lightly curled inwards to the palm. Those hands. Would they even feel the same as they did back then?
But did that matter? Neither of you was the same person anymore. Both of those people had been lost in the annals of history – their story was already over and done. The pages turned. Cover closed.
Those two kind people had died. They were buried together under the ground, bones turning bleach white and wrapped in vines; nothing more than a ghost of a dream.
“Bird?” John whispers, his head tilting down to look at you closer as his chin bumps his chest. His feet move carefully as his hips shift and you feel his body heat like a noose around your neck. Your resolve was slipping, but it had already been fraying when you had first laid eyes on this changeling – this person wearing the Lieutenant’s face and eyes.
John.
You nod without looking at his creased eyelids, and he slips you into his firm hold without a second thought.
“Oh, c’mere, Love.” Standing heavily, you breathe in a deep breath as your head meets his chest, body wound tight. How many times have you dreamed of this? Finding him again despite all of it? It felt…wrong.
You had been sure he was dead. How was he not dead?
“Little Bird, I’m so sorry.” Your eyes widen, and a sharp gasp is ripped from your mouth; lips instantly begin to shake and pull tight.
No, you want to scream, no don’t say that to me, John. Don’t do that to me.
But he mumbles it again into your hair as his hand cups the back of your skull, weakly swaying back and forth in this dim office surrounded by blood and death. His body is like a rock all around you, and as your arms rise to wrap around his waist, you hear his breath shutter down over your forehead; his lungs hitch.
“I thought you died.” You hate the whimper that gets muffled by his shirt as you nuzzle into it. Hate it with a burning passion. When was the last time you had let yourself break like this? Left staining someone's shirt with tears and muttering fears into their chest. But this wasn’t someone, this was John – John had promised you he would come back for you, always.
And so John just holds you tighter and kisses your forehead. He lets you cry. He makes you feel safe where no one else ever could.
The man – a triumphant Orpheus – keeps you close until you can breathe firmly again. Only then does he carefully peel back, and you catch a glimpse of his soft face. The face that you missed ogling as you walked beside him. His hands go to cup your cheeks, thumbs slipping to wipe away tears that clog your vision with his quick eyes falling to study your visage; you liked when John took care of you, even if you knew you could handle it yourself now.
He made everything better.
Peering into his eyes, you catalog the new aspects of his face as your breaths mingle, bodies close and intimate. He had more wrinkles than you remember, and his eyes were even more cold. John’s beard was perhaps the change you liked the most besides the nicely trimmed head hair.
“MacMillan.” He grunts out and you frown as he continues with a sigh. One of his arms goes to slither around your waist, pulling you even closer as if he couldn’t be separated for one more second. “He didn’t like that I was writing you, Love. Said I’d been too distracted. Must have stopped the letters from gettin’ out…bloody fucken’ bastard, he is.”
You hum, content for the first time in a long while. John’s chest moves against yours – pressing into it and making you ache with every fast puff of air. Noticing the rapid movement of his heart, you look deeply into his expression and find his pupils blown wide, a deep heat taking root around the room.
“If I had known, I would have found a way to give ‘em to you myself.” Your body tingles, and your fingers dig into his skin from around his waist as your noses nearly brush. He doesn’t pull back. “You know that, don’t you? I’d have hopped on the first damn plane – shown up on your doorstep. Gear and all.”
“Now, I would have paid to see that, Captain Price.” He purrs, and the vibrations of his chest make your eyelids flutter. “Standing on my porch like a husband who came home from war. Pity.”
Chuckling breathly, you can’t help but giggle back, leaning into his hold on your cheek. You don’t remember ever feeling this happy.
A moment of stolen breaths and wandering touches ensues; beating hearts that make muscles writhe and inner tensions reach a breaking point. Finally together again after so long apart – there were so many things to say to each other.
“Hm, Love?” John mutters as his nose bumps yours, making your head lightly tilt to the side to make his lips brush yours with every panted gasp. You lick your lips and accidentally slide your tongue against the side of the Brit's mouth; you watch his eyes darken with a smirk.
“Yes?” You wonder aloud, eyes hooded, and his gaze narrows on you – a blatant enticing accusation making John’s skin thrum with electricity.
“Can I kiss you?” A breathless grumble.
“Yes.”
Your lips meet with a clash of hellfire and a song of lust, sparks like jumping embers lighting across lit flesh. Digging into his waist, you enjoy the way John’s ribs flare with large lungs as his teeth clatter into yours, the way his grip on your face trails to your neck, digging and making you gasp into his mouth when he slightly presses into your pulse point.
He chuckles pridefully before reconnecting his face to yours, feeling your heart pound outside of your body. The two of you were so close to one another that it was nearly like you were trying to melt into one being – an amalgamation of calluses and milky scars; violence and unspoken words.
The both of you had been waiting for this for years. Ages.
A swipe of his tongue over your lips and suddenly your mouth is wide open, letting the muscle delve into you before retreating once more; leaving strings of saliva as you let him separate. Face hot and breath panting, you both stare at one another with swollen lips, red and bitten. There’s a small moment of quick inhalations and banging chests before your nails suddenly dig into the small of his back, dragging him forward once more as he heaves under your hold.
No need for talking, you could get everything you wanted to say across just by how you bite into his bottom lip, how your knee brushes his crotch and leaves him jolting into you. Groaning into your mouth.
John’s fingers kneed your flesh, every brush like a cattle prod. Without even realizing it, both of you had started to back up, your feet skimming the floor as one of your hands went out behind you to connect with the desk edge.
“Lift.” You mumble into his mouth, and not a second later the man’s large hands grope at your thighs, squeezing once before he effortlessly manhandles you upwards. Your legs spread and go to wrap around his waist, locking at the ankles and producing a deep churning in your gut.
When your backside lands on the desktop, your lips have traveled to lay nipping kisses on John’s neck and under his ear; hand now over his abs and dragging down while your nails leave him shivering. He grunts and clenches his jaw when you bite into his flesh, the delicious tickle of beard hair brushing your nose as you watch with feral satisfaction upon the flush on his complexion.
The Captain’s hands run up and down your hips fervently, mapping out the flesh above your loose sweatpants. Before long there’s the feeling of pressure forming above your core, a deep imprint of tented cargo pants leaving a familiar feeling of passion leaking out into your panties. The both of you were utterly addicted to the other.
“Eager?” You breathily wonder, teasing, leaving another hickey on John’s pulse point as he side-eyes you with blown pupils. Your gaze only catches a flicker of a smirk before his hands suddenly bore down into the skin of your thighs and his hips cant into your core.
Gasping out a moan, your fingers twist into his shirt, face falling onto his shoulder.
“J-jerk!” You keen, face hot, and mouth open to help you suck down air before he does the same motion again, liking how you look when his erection rubs the right spots. Shaking, you feel John leaving hot open-mouthed kisses on your skin, beard coarsely stimulating your already warm skin. Under his unrelenting hold, your legs quiver to try and move faster.
Smug bastard, he was enjoying this.
“Now, then, who’s eager?” A confident superiority was stuck to the tone like the slick was making your underwear stick to your slit. It felt dirty, but you liked when he talked like that – tried to use your words against you as his own pleasure was making him go slack-faced.
How would it feel to have him moving inside of you? Leaving you sobbing from pleasure as your shared release dripped over the floor and his veins caught your ridges just right?
Your back arches into him, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling as his hand presses into your tailbone to angle you upwards into him as he groans into your shoulder and stutters his animalistic pace. The feeling was unlike any other you had experienced; you could feel the electricity every time he stimulated your clit, leading to involuntary jerks on your part and thin breaths. There was barely time to suck down air over the lightheadedness.
“I-” Your voice cuts as cold wetness slides down your folds, and you shiver despite boiling. “I think you’re the one rutting into me like a bitch in heat, John.”
“Well, you’d be right,” he growls, and your fingers slide down his shirt before you can slip into his pants. The Brit sucks in a sharp breath and his other hand, once on your thigh, goes to slam onto the desktop in a quick motion when you play with the strap of his boxers. “Fuckin’ minx.”
You smirk, angling your head to the side to watch his normally stoic face begin to break when your nails trace the trail of hairs that lead down. Close but not close enough to where his cock strains violently; twitching as the telltale leak of precum stains his underwear and pants. You doubt your appearance down there is any better. Everything sticks to each other so tightly that you were slightly worried your desk would need a deep clean.
John’s eyes are closed tightly, teeth clenched tight when your nails trace circles along his prominent ‘V’ line while his abdominal muscles tighten to an attractive degree of internal yearning. Around his waist, your legs are vibrating with eagerness, your skin so sensitive it was like every nerve was being fired. Oh, you liked that look on his face more than anything.
“You’ve got to say it, Love.” You watch as his biceps tighten and strain, hand over your desk clenching into a fist behind you. Your hand dips lower in his boxers as your core begs for something to fill it – anything to make the cum drip out of you and give overstimulated aftershocks. Your other limb goes to pop the front button of his cargos as your sweaty face angles itself to connect your nose with the Captain’s larger one, smashing against it desperately. “Open your eyes, John. Tell me what you want me to do.”
Breathing over his visage, he flickers his eyes open with a small struggle and you almost moan at the heaviness of them as they gaze at you. He says nothing to you, but his digits at your tailbone leave their position to mirror your own actions. Your confidence stutters when John deftly pulls at the string and slips his rough pads under your panties, stopping on your body where you wait on his.
Your eyes slightly widen and your heart beats impossibly faster.
So that’s what this is…some kind of cat-and-mouse game? Alright.
The desk is uncomfortable under you, but you find you don’t even care anymore. Staring into John’s unblinking eyes you raise a brow.
“Not saying anything?”
“I’ll leave it to you. Do what you wish, Princess.” Your fingers experimentally skim to the base of his cock, playing with the hairs and feeling his fingers mirror, stopping just above your aching clit and barely touching you. This would be easier with the clothes off, less awkward angles if you would just fuck each other like you both desperately wanted. Raw and fast, no time to breathe before starting another round to make up for lost time until the two of you were too tired and sensitive to even rut into each other without passing out. But the two of you were too currently obsessed with battling wills – this was a game that made you even wetter, and him harder.
But, fuck, it physically hurt not to have his dick inside of you right now. Maybe a substitute could work?
Your fingers grip him inside his boxers, and before you can laugh at his throat-strangled moan of carnal pleasure, his own are delving into your drenched heat relentlessly.
“Fuck!” You whimper, hips jerking as your mouth falls open, eyes rolling back. He has the audacity to steal your laugh from you and throw it back as it puffs out over your cheeks.
When John feels the drowning wetness stemming from your slit and he curls his digits, he can’t help the vile smirk that infects his lips; a raised eyebrow, and a comment on his hot breath.
“All this for me, hm?” You don’t answer, too lost in the blue of his eyes and the sparks that emulate at having another living being pulsing over your tight walls.
“S-shut it.” Groaning, you pant trying to move your hips before he growls in front of you, making you pause as your hand around his cock twitches.
“None of that, now.” There was no amusement in his eyes, but a steel-like determination and a demented tilt of his head as his forehead connected with yours. “We’re gonna help each other, yeah? Make it a little game of who can get off first. Can you do that for me, Dear?”
Where has your confidence gone? Has it leaked out of you?
You whine as your eyes crinkle, desperate for something on your clit despite the feeling of being stuffed by two of John’s large fingers. John frowns, and his thumb hits the perfect bundle of nerves like he could read your mind. Writhing, you feel your eyes wet with pleasure-tears.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your mind is going so fast that it’s blank, only able to focus on John and how his hips sputter to try and fuck himself on your hand. He was just as needy as you were, skin flushed and muscles tight under his clothes.
“C’mon, Love.” He groans, nipping at your wet and red mouth and pulling at your lip as his calluses rub in small sparking circles, trying to get you to respond. Your hips careen forward to chase him. “Where’s my sweet Little Birdie gone, eh? She’s so wet for me, can’t have lost already. Listen, now, okay?”
He begins to fuck you with his fingers, moving painfully slow in and out, pushing and prodding as you moan and gasp when he runs over the tense walls. But you do listen – God, how couldn’t you?
“You hear that?” Your eyes widen and your hand tightens over his cock like a vice. Your own cunt was so soaked that every motion of John’s fingers made an obscene squelch, and your walls tighten in retaliation around him as he groans deeply, feet shoulder length apart. “There she is.”
You match his pace with your hand, collecting his precum at the tip and spreading it down the shaft as you both get each other off with fast breaths and locked eyes.
“T-that’s a girl.” John can’t help the way he moves faster, eager to release the strain on his balls, his fingers rapidly moving and thumb pressing tightly as you squeeze around him. “Fuck.” He growls, hunching over you and taking a peek down to where your sweatpants and panties strain to hold his hand inside as you work him. “Fuck,” he repeats, “such a lovely fuckin’ cunt of yours. Grippin’ my fingers like a damn noose, you are. Can’t wait to—”
A strangled whine breaks through his clenched teeth when you twist your hand, creating a rhythm of your own that makes sweat break out on John’s forehead.
“Bloody…” his head falls to your shoulder, where you lick and bite at the side of his ear with hard teeth, thighs burning as you jump every time his thumb weakly stutters over your clit. Your ankles dig into his tailbone.
“C’mon, John,” you gasp, sweat trailing your spine and soaking into your clothes as the sound of rabid slopping echoes off the walls along with loud moans and guttural grunts. “This is what you wanted, right?” He bites into your shoulder through your shirt.
The Brit was close, you could feel it in the fast careening of his hips; the way his dick in your soft hand was twitching and covered in just as much wetness as your splayed slit was, where John’s fingers continue to spread you violently wide. But his motions had faltered, but still, that tightening in your belly was there even as he slowed at his impending release. Your pleasure stemmed from seeing him lose it under the twist of your wrist and the lick of your tongue under his ear.
His groans were getting louder, body hunching in around you as the desk knocked into his knees.
“Little more,” you like the way his beard burns your neck flesh, how his body pulls you even tighter against him so you won’t take away his climax at the last second. “C’mon, let me feel it.” He gasps and twitches a whine stuck deep before it is expelled from his lungs as he shakes like a leaf against you.
He shoots his cum down to stain his boxers and cargo pants and you look down in a daze to look at the patch, but his locked fingers inside of you involuntarily curl all the way up, pressing into that spongy spot as you clit it pinched so tight your eyes widen. Before you can stop it, you're moaning out loudly and breathlessly, back arching and releasing just like that. Spazaming, it’s cutting through you like a knife, filthy stickiness coating John’s hand in a thick layer in an instant as your walls clench.
The both of you shake into one another, bodies coated and clothes wreaked – fingers and hands not willing to part from the other's wreaked pants.
Whining, you force your flicking eyes open and feel John breathing heavily into your neck. Sucking down fast breaths, you lick your lips and state, perhaps a little smugly, “I…I win.”
A panting moment of sweat-coated silence.
John starts laughing, deep bouts of shaking movements that make you follow. In the dim office atop a ruined desk, you both lean into one another, clean hands digging into the others’ clothes and hair. The lingering pleasure was addictive.
“Fucken’ hell…yeah, Love, guess you did.” The brown-haired man pulls back, and your hand falls from his cock and lands in your lap. You unlock your ankles and shiver when his fingers brush inside of you when he takes them out, teasingly running over your overstimulated clit and huffing, amused when you whimper pathetically and slap his hand away. Glaring, he smirks and you roll your eyes. Raising a brow as sweat falls from your nose, you shift over the wood and stare at John as his hidden emotions wash over you in the form of blue water.
You can’t really think that I’m done with you? You want to say.
“What do I get, then?” Your thighs twitch, legs still splayed around his wide hips. He frowns teasingly.
“What’s that?”
“I won, didn’t I?” Staring intensely, both of your hands go to hold you up behind you, leaning back so you can place weight on them. Already, your slit is aching again, your navel pounding as the room smells like sex and messy release. “I want a prize.”
“That how it works, then, Captain?” John sighs, crossing his arms and puffing his chest as your leg moves up and down his thigh, “You expect to be rewarded? Hm, you’re in the wrong profession, you are, Love.”
“No,” you smirk, “I’m not.”
Reaching, your fingers grasp the bottom of your shirt, feeling John’s eyes bore into your skin as you pull the article over your head and let it hit the floor. You hear his breath get shallow, and, disliking how the cum staining your lower body feels, you lift your hips and slide both your panties and sweats to your ankles with a quick motion.
Looking up at John, you smile innocently, only clothed in a bra.
“Take off my shoes for me?” His blue eyes are barely visible anymore, black already taking over as his piercing look stays on your shiny cunt like a dog with a bone. You see his breath get shallow and the hard-on under his clothes once more grow larger. “John?” Prompting him to move, you take one of your hands and spread your folds.
The man’s hands twitch, feet shuffling, but other than that he stays stone still until you speak once more, even if he’s almost physically vibrating at the sight of you.
“I’ll let you clean me up if you hurry up and get my clothes off.” His large hands snap to your laces, untying them expertly and pulling them from your feet so they clatter to the ground. The remaining fabric follows.
Giggling, your breath gets caught when John’s fingers trail up your ankle, his free hand going to lay firmly at your opposite knee. Using one of your hands you reach up and unclip your bra, slipping it off your shoulders. The reports on your desk are all most likely ruined – you’ll need to rewrite them tomorrow – but for right now you’re transfixed on the sight in front of you.
John looks into your eyes and utters, “you sure you know what you’re doin’ Sweetheart?”
“Take off your shirt.” You smile in return, your fingers going to slip into your eager cunt, still burning from John’s long-gone relentless digits. Your eyelids flutter at the fire. “And your pants. I wanna feel your muscles movin’ when your tongue cleans up my cum.”
His chest is heaving like a wounded animal, and you whine when you curl your own fingers in your heat, wishing it was John’s dick. Fuck, you needed him to hurry up already. Your digits couldn’t satisfy you as he could – when you had been stroking him you had marveled silently at the girth, the sizable veins that pulsed in your grip when you squeezed.
Watching like a hawk, John slowly moves and pulls off his shirt as you lazily fuck into your wet entrance. You spy his large pecs and nicely shaped waist as chiseled abs make your mouth water and lips part in soft puffs of breath. The coarse hair over him was the same shade as his beard, and you followed the trail with greedy eyes until it disappeared below his unbuttoned and stained pants.
Your chest gets just a little bit together; cunt tightening dangerously.
“You’re droolin’, lovely,” John smirks down at you, “careful now, don’t wanna finish on yourself. Just makin’ more of a mess for me, hm? Naughty.” He strips off his pants and boxers, kicking his boots off, and you stare wide-eyed at the spring of his dick, noticing the way it hits against his stomach with a molten red tip.
You would have gotten on your knees and sucked him off, but he beat you to it.
The Captain forsakes his own needs and does as he’s ordered – he kneels to the ground and levels his face where your cum stains your skin and nudges your fingers out of the way. He begins to lick along your thighs as your wet hand goes to slick his hair back, gripping the strands and observing the phenomena below you with a slack jaw.
Oh, hell.
He stares at you as he does it, cataloging the flesh that makes you jump and the places that leave you shaking with need. His tongue sucks and bites, but never goes where you want it to, instead, he just spreads your legs farther and makes comments as you grunt above him.
“Such a mess, Princess…I’ll have to take care of you.”
“That’s it, Love, fuck my face – try and get off. Good girl.”
“Fuckin’ delicious, that is, eh? Here, have a taste.”
You’re left a shaking mess by the time the remnants of your orgasm are traded for saliva, his muscle slurping up every droplet without complaint as his fingers leave bruises in your thighs from how tight he has to hold them to keep the limbs apart. This wasn’t going to plan for you.
Whining and whimpering, you ache for him, your lower body throbbing as more slick begins flowing. At this rate, he was going to suck you raw and leave beard burn all over your inner thighs.
“J-John,” you plead, disheveled as your hand grips his hair tighter, biting into the brown whisps. You were going to climax without him even entering you.
“Hm?” He groans out, licking a long stripe over your entrance but never sinking into it. Your body shivers and jolts, chasing that friction but he moves away too soon. You nearly sob. No, no, no. I can’t take it. “What is it, then?”
“Fuck me.” You feel the twist of his lips more than see it.
“Yeah? That what you want?”
“I swear to God, John–!” He stands so quickly that you yelp, legs wrapping behind him as his arms go around your backside and hike you into his hold.
Moaning loudly, you feel the press of his cock over your slit, whining and immediately trying to shift in his grip to attempt to slip him inside of you with a twisted face. But the Brit’s hand on the small of your back is tight, keeping you trapped against him.
“Not yet.” He growls in his ribcage, and you connect his forehead with yours and force yourself not to beg as he narrows his eyes at you. But you're not a fool, you can practically hear his cock trying to move against your heat; his thighs quivering. “Fuckin’ hell – you’re impatient. Your whole squad like that?”
“You’re a damn tease.” You huff, rubbing and pressing your nipples over his chest hair to stop the throbbing in them. “Ruder than I remember. Didn’t even let the girl suck you off.”
“Then you’re gonna hate what I do next.”
Your confusion bleeds into your expression as he situates himself in your desk chair, leaning back into it with a groan and squeezing you in his arms. His dick slaps at your backside when he lets you go and just stares. Furrowing your brow, he tilts his head down at you as your arms rest on his pecks, playing with the hair there and tracing scars.
“Go on.” The Brit prompts with a tilt of his head toward you, a nonchalant expression on his face that makes him look more like he used to – outwardly not caring but studying every move and twitch of your body.
He watches you like a wolf.
“What?” Questioning, your head pulls back as your legs fall limp at his sides to dangle above the floor.
He huffs. “You said you wanted your prize – take it, then.”
“...b-but…”
“Go on. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
You glance down, utter exasperation showing on your face, “how am I supposed to…?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure that out, Love.” John’s hands go to sit on the armrests, fingers swishing as they hang off the ends. Your face burns, annoyance filtering into your veins as your eyelids crease.
Trying to prove a point, you stave off the awkwardness of the angle and shift upwards, using John’s broad shoulders as a way to lift yourself up. Taking a shallow breath, your breasts are shoved into his face when you free one of your hands, going to grasp him to line the joining up. You feel him distantly nipping at the supple flesh, his hands over the rests jerking as his legs open wider under you. When you grab him, he grunts, and your nails leave crescent marks on his skin as you clench your jaw as it rests on his head. Huffing, you jerk him off a few times to make his body writhe before, in one fell motion, letting yourself fall onto his dick.
You both let out sounds that are more animal than human, deep wails and keens that shake the office walls.
“Fuck, John,” you make noise like a damn porno, head slotted in his neck as you shake and jolt this way and that with rapid nerves that shoot down your arching spine.
He was tearing you open – ripping you apart with the spearhead that curves so deeply you struggle to breathe correctly. Jesus, was he in your throat? Gasping, you feel so full in such a unique way it leaves you addicted, your cunt so tight around John’s cock that the walls inside of you quiver with every small movement. When he gasps out breaths with his closed-tight eyes, you notice the way your body convulses, red-hot pleasure rocketing to your brain and pumping endorphins before clenching around him.
Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit, I can feel his goddamn veins digging into me! Your small mewls of pleasure spill out even as you both stay still to adjust. Sex had never felt like this before.
John spasms, hands immediately snapping to your thighs to keep you there as he wheezes.
“Fuckin’....christ!” Blinking rapidly, you bite into John’s neck to ground yourself, hips rocking despite his pleas. “So tight. Squeezin’ my cock just perfect. Take it, Love. Fuck, c’mon, take it.”
Your slick and his precum make it easier, the wet squelching once more resuming at a faster pace than before. You release his skin, intent on chasing after the orgasm building around this man’s dick that hits every spot like it was target practice.
“John, feel so good,” you moan, breathing loudly as the Brit watches you take him like it was nothing.
“H-hell.” He groans long, hands helping you jump when your legs shake too violently every once and a while. He’ll have blood dripping from his shoulders from how hard you dig into him, but watching your cunt swallow him over and over again is payment enough as a ring of milky white forms at his base. “Look at you. Fuckin’ good girl. Keep it steady, now.”
“P-please,” you sob, eyes shiny as your walls ache – your needy clit was burning. John watches wide-eyed; blues boiling. “Clit. I need…”
Trailing off you connect your lips to his when one of his thumbs goes to your nerve bundle, quickly working at it in tight circles that molds your lips onto a silent scream. John whimpers when your pussy clamps, his senses all covered in you – your scent and how your tits bounce so beautifully – a second later he can’t help himself any longer.
His feet plant themselves to the floor, and he’s slipping his tongue into your mouth as his hips rapidly thrust, skin on skin the only sound above high moans and muffle pleas of release.
It was far past words anymore, just feral animals seeking an earth-shattering orgasm at the other’s hand. Drool was slipping down both of your lips, splattering down chests and cheeks as sloppy kisses miss marks.
So close. So close.
The snake was coiling, walls shaking and alternating between squeezing too tight and letting John hit as far into you as possible. You suddenly wail into his hot mouth, eyes rolling back when he angles his thrusts back towards himself as he slouches in the chair.
“There it is. Bloody bastard.” John hits it again, leaving you collapsing onto his chest as his hands go to wrap around your back, large arms using you to stay still as he pants ferally, eyes wild as they stare down at your blessed-out expression. Fuck, were you even able to speak anymore beyond whines and gasps? The clench of your pussy?
“Don’t worry, Love,” One thumb still plays with your overstimulated clit, making tears splatter his chest hair and get stuck as every sliver of skin that’s coated in sweat and joined slick. “I’ll make it up to you, yeah, I’ll fuck you proper later.”
Your eyes roll back, back arching into him. God, was this not fucking you properly? But then again, John was a gentleman at the end of the day – his idea of proper was probably a bed and a glass of water on the nightstand.
But this was so much better. The neediness of it, the emotional release besides the physical. John could fuck you anywhere at any time, as long as you got to hear him speak to you like that. Breathless, whiny like he never was and probably never will be outside the company of just you – even after being separated, you knew he was never one to do things like this.
“Tell me you’ll let me cum inside this cunt, eh, Love,” his accent is stronger as he gasps, raspy, with muted growls, before his head tilts back behind the chair’s backing. He speeds up until you were sure the chair was going to break in two, the material squealing. “Let me breed you like I always wanted to, yeah? Watch that spent cunt drown before I pump back in and stuff you full again. Please, Bird, let me…Let me…!”
You're about to lose it, hands raking down his chest and legs numb before you can gasp out a single sentence before the rope snaps.
“God, John, don’t…don’t let any go to waste.” You moan and slot your head under his jaw, feeling his beard bristles burn your nose when you finally let the snake strike.
Freezing, your lower body jolts as if connected to an electrical line, walls constricting around the foreign entity inside of you as it continues to chase its own high. One firm thrust, two sloppy ones, before a groan so loud you feel it reverberate in your heart enters the heavy air. There is an undeniable fullness to your womb that shoots deeply into your being, splattering your thighs and staining John’s abdomen. From there it’s small instinctual thrusts as your ringing ears twitch at the sound of cum dripping on the floor. Panting, you can’t help the fucked-out way your mouth parts to release a satisfactory sigh at the feeling of euphoria in your brain and cunt.
It felt like you were floating on air when John finally started rubbing a hand up and down your back, shaky fingers hard and sure as they trace old marks.
Still short of breath, the two of you revel in each other's company with palpitating hearts and half-lidded eyes. Still slotted under his jaw, the brown-haired man mutters softly.
“New?” As he taps a bullet wound on your right side that’s been healed for years now.
“Hm,” uttering softly with a hoarse voice, you smile weakly with warm cheeks, “old. Three years.”
“...I have a lot to catch up on, then, yeah?”
“Very much. But don’t worry, I’ll be patient.” He chuckles, making your form move with him. You take a deep breath, finally feeling yourself come back to earth, albeit on unsteady feet.
A good bout of calming silence forms before you speak through a haze of fatigue. It had to be late by now – incredibly late. Maybe just using the pullout bed would be better than doing the walk of shame back to your barracks. John could join you here, you decide internally.
“How did you know I’d even speak to you in the first place?” You ask as the man shifts under you, lightly lifting your black and blue thighs as you begin to whine quietly; he shushes you with a calm presence. Delicately pulling out, he lets his spent cock exit your red and swollen hole as more combined fluid falls from you to run over his hips and pool below. Resettling you, he brings a hand to the back of your head and presses a kiss to your forehead.
“The radio. You kept it.” You grin shakily, feeling him run his fingertips down your spine, finding more milky scars and caressing them with callused hands.
You’d have to tell him all of your stories later, and in turn, he’ll tell you his. There was a lot to learn, but this certainly wasn’t a bad spot to start. Nuzzling farther into his neck, you sigh dreamily as his pulse sings you to sleep like a lullaby. Before you drift off you whisper out a reply that leaves John shivering.
“...I guess I did, didn’t I?”
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SSR Sebek Zigvolt - Platinum Jacket Vignette
"Happy 100th Anniversary"
[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
Sebek: That pedestal there is a reproduction from the King of Beasts' bedchamber, and that teacup yonder is ceramic wear with a Queen of Hearts motif.
Sebek: Heheh… That's right, my preparatory research is completely perfect. With this, there shall be no opportunity for me to embarrass myself due to a lack of artistic knowledge.
Sebek: There is no way I can allow myself to appear unsightly now that I've been appointed a supporter of the Land of Dawning National Museum of Art.
???: Hm? What's with this green light in the middle of the painting…? Oh, it's just a bonfire flame.
???: Those fairies look like they're having a blast partyin' like that, I wonder if something good happened.
Sebek: How dare you claim them to be "partying." This is a painting depicting the Thorn Fairy's men extolling her grand exploits!
Ace: Ack, Sebek… Looks like I got caught by an annoying one. So what, you're tellin' me this painting's got something to do with the Thorn Fairy?
Sebek: Exactly. It is often said that these men were as proud of the Thorn Fairy's achievements as if it were their own, and would express their joy with their whole body and soul.
Sebek: Anyone should be able to infer how magnificent the Thorn Fairy was just from witnessing these men's unwavering loyalty.
Ace: Uh-huh, okay. Kinda just looks to me like they're just partyin', maybe masking it as a celebration for the Thorn Fairy.
Sebek: Don't you dare liken them to superficial humans like yourself. Each one of those fae that appear in this tale are all diligent folk.
Sebek: Back in my hometown there are many stories of the Thorn Fairy and other fae passed down for generations. We even have special functions held to emulate their greatness.
Ace: Sure. Can't see those functions as being anything other than boring, though, if it's attended by lame, "diligent" faes~
Sebek: Heh, curious, are you? One such event that has been around for a long while now is a dress color changing competition. Whosoever is able to magically dye the dress to the color closest to the provided example is the victor.
Ace: Ugh, that pisses me off that it's actually kinda cool-soundin'…
Ace: But I guess the whole having to use magic for it just shows it really is an event in the fae-rich lands of Briar Valley.
Sebek: …In my youth, my elder brother and sister took me to witness one such competition and I was struck with amazement.
Sebek: I was completely taken in by everyone's astounding magical prowess to turn a dress vivid blue or pink in the blink of an eye…
Sebek: I remember how excited I was to learn magic as soon as possible so I may also take part in this contest.
Ace: Guess even you have adorable moments. So, what place in the competition did you get once your long-awaited magic finally manifested?
Sebek: Don't be absurd. Color changing magic is a course of study that human mages only learn in their courses at an arcane academy.
Sebek: This was merely something I found enchanting as a mere child. Obviously I would not take part in such a contest now.
Ace: You suuure? Sounds pretty fun to me. Oh hey, then how about you and me have our own little contest with color changing magic back at my dorm sometime.
Sebek: Why would I set foot in Heartslabyul…? Wait.
Sebek: Surely I am mistaken, but… Were you intending on shoving your rose-dying tasks onto my shoulders?
Ace: No way, I wasn't saying that at all! C'mon, don't you think it'd be a great little competition to have with a fellow freshman?
Sebek: Your excuses will not work on me! I know for a fact that you constantly complain over having to paint the roses.
Sebek: The only contest I had any interest in attempting was the dress color changing competition in Briary Valley. Do the tasks assigned to you on your own!
[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
Ace: Oh hey, I know this one. It's a painting of a girl and some talking flowers.
Sebek: According to the legends, the flowers native to the country the Queen of Hearts' presided over had the ability to speak.
Sebek: Who would have thought that the flowers cultivated there would be able to speak or sing as such. I'm sure it was disturbingly loud in the Queen's country.
Ace: Sure, probably. But hey, probably a lot less loud than your voice can get.
Sebek: …Perhaps if you were to cease your own impudent retorts, I wouldn't have a need to raise my voice.
Ace: Reeeaaally, you think? 'Cause to me it feels like you're always angry about something.
Sebek: Of course not. I simply find the uncouth antics of you humans to be utterly aggravating.
Sebek: I know there is a time and place for everything. I myself would never do something as rude as to throw a damper on enthusiastic festivities.
Sebek: In fact, I attended a performance at a live music club just the other day and I did not chide the audience for their overjoyed shouting one bit.
Ace: …Eh. What did you just say? YOU WENT TO SEE A LIVE MUSIC PERFORMANCE!!!???
Sebek: Why would you react as such?
Ace: I mean, come on, didn't strike you as someone who'd go to something like that. So, like, what was the live show you went to go see?
Sebek: My latest venture brought me to attend a small show that showcased a collaboration between bands that primarily performed heavy metal music.
Sebek: This was all due to Lilia-sama, who imparted on me that this was the best way to train my imagination, and that listening to live music is an important part of life.
Ace: Aaah, that makes sense now. But hey, do you even listen to heavy metal?
Ace: I mean sure, you can kinda get into it once you're at the concert even if you don't know the songs, but if you don't even like that kinda stuff in the first place, ain't it tough to actually take in?
Sebek: "Get into it once you're at the concert"? Don't liken me to someone like you. Of course I went to the show after doing my due diligence in research.
Sebek: If I were to attend the show without a full understand of what I am to partake in, it would be an absolute disservice to Lilia-sama's recommendation.
Sebek: I studied everything from the exact times the music club opened their doors and how the audience would be filed into the venue, to the established rules on refreshments, to the proper cheering behavior utilized by the crowd near the front of the house…
Sebek: I believe it is called a "mosh pit." Prior to attending the performance, I made sure to carve into my body and soul the different techniques and proper etiquette as well.
Sebek: On that day, I purport that I banged my head back and forth much harder than anyone else there, shouting and cheering alongside them.
Ace: Don't think I've ever heard of someone practicing to mosh before. But I guess it sounds like you had a pretty fun time, though.
Sebek: Indeed. Although, I did run into slight trouble.
Ace: Huh, what kind of trouble? Cause some mischief, did ya?
Sebek: Absolutely not! I'm not sure if they lost their footing during the show or what, but the performer fell forward towards the audience.
Sebek: I immediately caught the performer and returned them to the stage. After that, the show continued smoothly until the end.
Ace: PFFT! You seriously returned the performer to the stage!?
Sebek: Obviously. I could not allow this concert that Lilia-sama had recommended to me be cancelled merely because the performer had become injured!
Ace: Bwahahaha! Looks like all that prepping you went through didn't help at all. All they wanted to do was stage dive, too.
Sebek: A stage dive…? Hold on now, don't tell me that was part of the performance!?
Sebek: I suppose the performer did look rather stunned when I returned them to the stage… Ghurk, what a blunder…!
Ace: Oh man, that's so hilarious. Wish I was there to see it. Hey, let's hit up a show together next time.
Sebek: SHUT IT! WHO WOULD EVER GO ANYWHERE WITH YOU!?
[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
Sebek: This is a painting of the hyenas who served the King of Beasts, I see. Their countenance depicts an atmosphere overflowing with trust from their liege and confidence in their own abilities.
Ace: Yeah? To me it just looks like they're up to something.
Sebek: Isn't that due to your own wily tendencies?
Sebek: I have seen you multiple times in locations outside the gymnasium during what should be basketball club hours.
Ace: Hey, it's not like I'm slacking off or anything. C'mon, I'm a freshman, right? Sometimes I get saddled with odd jobs from the upperclassmen.
Ace: But, man… Sometimes I do want to skip morning lessons on cold days. Hey, aren't there times you don't want to get out of bed when it's way too cold out, too?
Sebek: It's true that back home it has happened that I couldn't get out of bed in the morning. However, that was not because I wished to skip my training!
Ace: W-Woah, really? I thought you woulda hit me back with another "Don't liken me to you!" or something.
Sebek: I could not help it. I was thoroughly chilled to the bone that morning. It was so cold that there were numerous icicles dangling from our roof, as well.
Sebek: I did not even wish to fathom the temperature outside, but… I somehow forced myself out of bed to begin my morning training.
Sebek: Perhaps it was due to not having slept well, but I could feel my eyelids start to droop. So I decided then to attempt to wake myself up further with the bitter taste of coffee.
Sebek: I swallowed down the strong black coffee and believed myself ready to go. But that was the last thing I remembered.
Sebek: I ended up falling back asleep on the couch and when I finally woke up, it was past noon… An absolute blunder. This is a blot that I will carry with me forever.
Ace: Hey now, that's pretty normal, c'mon. Pretty steep to say you'll carry that forever.
Sebek: No, you are just weak-willed. I, however, strived through trials and tribulations to overcome the bitter cold of mornings and finally found "that" thing.
Ace: What're you acting so pompous about now?
Sebek: Heh, of course you'd be curious. I suppose I can tell you. The thing I am talking about is… A HOT WATER BOTTLE!
Ace: A hot water bottle…? You're seriously using a hot water bottle? Even in this day and age when we have air conditioners and heaters!?
Sebek: Do you seriously not understand? That thing is a fantastic item that warms your entire body without fear of causing a fire or desiccation.
Sebek: Cold winter nights not only diminishes my ability to fall asleep, but also affects the quality of sleep I am able to get. In turn, that makes it difficult to rise from bed…
Sebek: However, a simple hot water bottle prepared at bedtime can warm my body and lull me to sleep even in the coldest winters!
Sebek: The temperature can even be easily adjusted by wrapping it in a towel, or adding water to the bottle. A very convenient item.
Ace: Huh, interesting. I mean, sure, it might not use electricity, but I'm surprised you're using a "human" item.
Sebek: I received this hot water bottle from my father. Back when he had just arrived in Briar Valley, it apparently was very useful in keeping him warm even without magic.
Ace: Oh, so it's a hand-me-down, huh. And here I thought I'd get to hear another hilarious story or something~
Ace: Since it sounds like there ain't gonna be a punchline anymore, I think I'll go check out the shop. Byeee―
Sebek: YOU ASKED THE QUESTION, HEAR ME OUT UNTIL THE END! Good grief, I can't stand that human. …Hm?
Sebek: This is… A painting depicting a the human chattering along with animals. I've read this story in a book my grandfather gifted me.
Sebek: This young lady speaks of her dreams to these critters… Does she truly believe that her wish will come true without any effort on her part? What a lazy creature.
Requested by Anonymous.
#twisted wonderland#twst#sebek zigvolt#ace trappola#twst sebek#twst ace#twst translation#twst birthday#mention: lilia#mention: baur
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ATLANTIS: THE LOST EMPIRE (2001)
SENTENCE STARTERS PULLED FROM THE DIALOGUE FEATURED IN THE ANIMATED FILM ATLANTIS: THE LOST EMPIRE, with some quotations slightly modified for roleplay purposes.
CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.
SPECIFY muse for multimuses.
“ Uh, would you gentlemen please excuse me for a moment? ”
“ If I ever hear the word "Atlantis" again, I'll step in front of a bus! ”
“ You have a lot of potential. ”
“ Who... who are you? How did you get in here? ”
“ I'm acting on behalf of my employer, who has a most intriguing proposition for you. ”
“ Relax. He doesn’t bite … often. ”
“ Did you really know my grandfather? ”
“ We stayed close friends ‘till the end of his days. ”
“ He spoke of you often. ”
“ I've spent my whole life studying dead languages. ”
“ I will stake everything I own, everything that I believe in... that this is the genuine Shepherd's Journal. ”
“ I'll show them! I will make them believe. ”
“ For years your granddad bent my ear with stories about that old book. ”
“ Your grandpa was a great man. You probably don't realize how great. ”
“ Don't let her age fool you. ”
“ Our lives are remembered by the gifts we leave our children. ”
“ Atlantis is waiting. What do you say? ”
“ Boy, I’m so excited, l-l-l-I can't even hold it in. ”
“ Excuse me? I need to, uh, report in? ”
“ Blondie, I got a bone to pick with you. ”
“ If you're lookin' for the pony rides, they're back there. ”
“ You can’t put a price on the pursuit of knowledge. ”
“ This should be enriching for all of us. ”
“ Now tell me your story, my little friend. ”
“ This is an outrage! You must leave at once! Out, out, out, out, out! ”
“ Now, what have I told you about playing nice with the other kids? ”
“ Back to the pit from which you came! ”
“ OK, everybody. I want you to give Mr. Thatch your undivided attention. ”
“ Cartographer, linguist, plumber. Hard to believe he's still single. ”
“ Captain, you'd better come look at this, sir. ”
“ Do you want to do my job? Be my guest. ”
“ How much time do we have? ”
“ I don't think he's comin' back. ”
“ Move it, people! Sometime today would be nice! ”
“ I won't sugar-coat it, gentlemen. We have a crisis on our hands. ”
“ Looks like all our chances for survival rest with you, Mr. Thatch. ”
“ We’re all gonna die. ”
“ Looks like we have a little roadblock. ”
“ That thing is going to keep me up all night, I know it. ”
“ You know, we've been pretty tough on the kid. What do you say we cut him some slack? ”
“ Hey, Milo! Why don't you come sit with us? ”
“ Hey, Milo, don't you ever close that book? ”
“ I know, I know. Sometimes I get a little carried away. ”
“ You know, that's what this is all about, right? I mean – discovery, teamwork, adventure. Unless, maybe, you're just in it for the money. ”
“ Hey, how’d you learn how to do that? ”
“ I never got to meet your grandfather. What was he like? ”
“ He was like a father to me, really. ”
“ My parents died when I was a little kid, and he took me in. ”
“ That is so cute! ”
“ Uh, no... no offense.. but how does a teenager become the chief mechanic of a multimillion dollar expedition? ”
“ So, what... what happened to your sister? ”
“ I just like to blow things up. ”
“ All right, who's not dead? Sound off. ”
“ Maybe that's our ticket outta here. ”
“ I gotta hand it to you. You really came through. ”
“ They can smell fear just by looking at ya. ”
“ We are explorers from the surface world. We come in peace. ”
“ Come. You must speak with my father now. ”
“ Someone's having a good time. ”
“ Commander, there were not supposed to be people down here. This changes everything. ”
“ This changes nothing. ”
“ You presume much to think that you would be welcome here. ”
“ I know what you seek and you will not find it here. ”
“ Your journey has been in vain. ”
“ May I respectfully request that we stay one night, sir? ”
“ Your heart has softened, Kida. ”
“ A thousand years ago, you would have slain them on sight. ”
“ We were once a great people. Now we live in ruins. ”
“ The kings of our past would weep if they could see how far we have fallen. ”
“ Our way of life is dying. ”
“ When you take the throne, you will understand. ”
“ Well, the King and his daughter don't exactly see eye to eye. ”
“ Well, if he's hiding something, I want to know what it is. ”
“ Look, I have some questions for you, and I'm not leaving this city until they're answered! ”
“ Oh, there is so much to ask about your world. ”
“ You are a scholar, are you not? ”
“ I got a few questions for you, too. So let's do this, OK? You ask one, then I'll ask one, then you, then me, then...well, you get it. ”
“ how did you get here? Well, I mean, not you personally... but your... your culture. I mean, how did all of this end up down here? ”
“ Wh... what... what … are you telling me… that you remember what happened because you were there? No, that... that's impossible... ”
“ How was my accent? ”
“ You know, you deserve credit for even... even gettin' this far. ”
“ By the way, we were never properly introduced. My name's Milo. ”
“ Uh, hey, you got a nickname? ”
“ You know, my grandpa used to tell me stories about this place as far back as I can remember. ”
“ I just wish that he could be standing here with me. ”
“ We are not thriving. True, our people live. but our culture is dying. ”
“ I wish there was something I could do. ”
“ Why don't you lead the way, because I have no idea where we're going. ”
“ This is amazing! A complete history of Atlantis! ”
“ I am such an idiot. ”
“ This is just another treasure hunt for you. ”
“ I would've told you sooner, but it was strictly on a need-to-know basis. ”
“ Welcome to the club, son. ”
“ Mercenary? I prefer the term "adventure capitalist." ”
“ You don't know what you're tampering with, Rourke. ”
“ Academics. You never want to get your hands dirty. ”
“ I got to admit, I'm disappointed. ”
“ You're an idealist, just like your grandfather. ”
“ For once, do the smart thing. ”
“ I really hate it when negotiations go sour. ”
“ Well, as usual, diplomacy has failed us. ”
“ You've got to listen to me. You don't have the slightest idea what this power is capable of. ”
“ Let’s get this over with. I don’t like this place.
“ Doesn’t anything surprise you? ”
“ Talk to me, Thatch. What's happening? ”
“ So I guess this is how it ends, huh? ”
“ You've read Darwin. It's called natural selection. We're just helping it along. ”
“ Be serious. This is wrong, and you know it. ”
“ You pick now of all times to grow a conscience? ”
“ She has been chosen... like her mother before her. ”
“ I followed you in, and I'll follow you out. ”
“ it's been my experience that when you hit bottom, the only place left to go is up. ”
“ What do you think that you are doing? ”
“ We're going to save Atlantis, or we're going to die trying. ”
“ Well, I have to hand it to you. You're a bigger pain in the neck than I would have ever thought possible. ”
“ Tired? Aw, that's a darn shame, because I'm just getting warmed up. ”
“ There's a hero's welcome waiting for the man who discovered Atlantis. ”
“ I don't think the world needs another hero. ”
“ I'm going to miss that boy. At least he's in a better place now. ”
#askbox meme#askbox prompt#rp ask meme#ask box#roleplay sentence meme#sentence starters#roleplay prompts#roleplay sentence starters#* sentence meme#rpc help#disney rpc#indie disney rp#disney rp#historical rp#bridgerton rp#fantasy rp
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