#now that you’ve got that back you have have 3 weeks to finish the last 20 pages ☺️
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Calculated and I have approximately 30 pages worth of essays to write in the next week and a half before I graduate…pray 4 me 🙏✌️
#the capstone schedule is kind of ridiculous in retrospect#okay guys you have a month to work revise and peer review the first five pages of your thesis#now that you’ve got that back you have have 3 weeks to finish the last 20 pages ☺️#this would feel more doable if I didn’t have 4 final essays to complete for the rest of my classes#got one turned in last night so we’re down to three + my thesis#I’ve got my presentation next friday so I live in dread until then but I still have to be in full panic writing mode#screams into the void
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ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY
pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 10.5k summary: after years away, vi returns home for the holidays and reunites with you, her ex-girlfriend. the universe (*cough cough* and your meddling families) push you together again, and neither of you can ignore the feelings that linger. (or: you, vi, and the ghosts of christmas past, present and future.) warnings: reader is ekko's older sister but not necessarily biological so appearance isn't specified; childhood friends to lovers + second chance romance; reader gets hit on by a creepy guy + gets into a fight (injury + blood mention), smut [strap mention (reader receiving), oral (both receiving), fingering (both receiving), biting, spitting, tribbing, sub!vi makes an appearance...kinda rough + possessive sex but there's aftercare too <33] (18+) ! a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR GIRLS AND GAYS <33 tbh i debated whether to post this now bc xmas was like....3 weeks ago but figured i might as well. so pls enjoy what is essentially an x-rated sapphic hallmark holiday movie.
♪: ‘tis the damn season by taylor swift (sun); winterbreak by MUNA (moon); last christmas by wham! (rising)
track 1: thank god it’s christmas by queen
(winter — age 17)
“okay, just relax your fingers — no, but keep some tension, apply a bit of pressure on the string….yep, that’s better. now, straighten your back….”
it’s dark and snowing outside, and the cold’s seeping in through the window of her attic bedroom, but vi still almost melts into the floor when you follow her advice and press against her chest. she worries that you can feel how fast her heart is beating — faster than it maybe should for someone she’d been calling friend ever since she could remember.
you shift in her lap, her arms still wrapped around yours from when she offered to guide you through an instrumental version of wham’s “last christmas.” you tilt your head towards her, nose almost brushing against hers.
“vi?”
“....yes?”
“maybe we should finish our lesson another time. we better hurry up, anyways. i bet ekko and powder are already arguing over whether we should watch home alone or home alone two.”
vi snorts. it’s practically a tradition at this point, along with the annual post-christmas-dinner pyjama movie night.
you try to hand her the bright pink guitar pick, but vi shakes her head.
“it’s yours. you’re gonna need it if you want more lessons.”
“hm, or maybe i could sell it for a billion dollars once you’re a big rockstar,” you tease. “i can picture thousands of fangirls painting your portrait and writing mrs. violet lanes in their notebooks.”
you get up, shoot her a wink, and leave vi on the bed, clutching her guitar and trying to get her pulse under control.
neither of you say anything as you both get changed. the stereo plays the mixtape you’d made for her — you got her for secret santa this year.
“my mom loved this song,” vi hums, a warm ache growing in her chest when the next song plays. this is the second christmas without her, but vi is still not used to using past tense. “she thought freddie mercury was the best rockstar of all time.”
“i remember. you…you must miss her.”
of course she does, and she could run through a million reasons why.
“vander says you’ll be spending new year’s at your dad’s,” is what she says instead.
you let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “yeah.”
“your mom going, too?”
“just me and ekko. i swear, it’s like he’s trying to be this perfect dad to his new stepkids, meanwhile he’s the one who left us here to deal with his mess, the one who just ran away, and….whatever.” this time, you do scoff. “hey – do you have a shirt i could borrow?”
vi looks over to find that you’ve switched from the velvet dress you wore during dinner into a pair of flannel plaid pants; her cheeks flush when she sees that you’re only wearing a black lacy bralette on top.
she clears her throat and pulls a clean jersey from her dresser, tosses it over to you.
“that’s a shame. i was looking forward to spending new year’s eve together.”
you hum and slip the shirt over your shoulders. the only sources of light are the moon and the stars and the multicoloured christmas lights strung along vi’s walls, but she swore that your eyes flick down to her lips.
“why’s that?” you ask.
there’s something absolutely dizzying about being this close to you, the way your sparkly eyes wait patiently for her to respond. joni mitchell sings about skating away on a river, and vi wishes she could skate away from this conversation, but there’s nowhere to go.
vi blinks away from your gaze and fixates on one of the many things she’s pinned up on her bedroom walls throughout the years. it’s a page torn from an old notebook of yours, something from seventh grade math class, but vi always loved your little drawings in the margins.
vi?” you prompt, never one to let go easily.
“i want to kiss you at midnight,” she confesses.
“yeah?”
vi nods. she’s tempted to walk out of her room, down the stairs and out into the winter night, until you weave your fingers through hers and squeeze her hand. she looks up — and you’re beaming, a smile that brightens vi’s entire being.
“i want that too.”
vi finally, finally crashes her mouth onto yours, lips sticky with marshmallow fluff.
you taste like vanilla and gingerbread and hot chocolate that is definitely not spiked with irish cream that vi slipped into your mugs while you distracted the adults.
you taste like home.
….
so, slight change of plans….i’m gonna stay here in london with the rest of the band. apparently the kirammans throw a super fancy holiday party with super fancy people every year, and cait convinced her parents to let us perform. fingers crossed someone important discovers us.
merry christmas, baby. and, if i don’t get the chance to say it: happy new year.
….
track 2: winter wonderland by darlene love
(winter — age 12)
you’re supposed to be looking after ekko while your parents are at work, but all that really means is making a big bowl of kraft dinner and stove-top s’mores for lunch and watching old christmas specials on the worn-out living room couch while you draw in your sketchbook and your brother, only 7 years old, programs the doorbell to play ‘jingle bells.’
when someone rings the doorbell, the tune floats through the house and wakes up your dog who starts barking like it’s the end of the world.
“easy, ziggy.” you click a marker closed and run a hand through the husky’s fur, attempting to calm him down. “let’s go see who it is.”
you open the door, and there’s vi: snowflakes sparkling on her eyelashes, pink hair hidden under a knitted hat, and a toothy grin that brings out the dimple in her flushed cheeks. she’s also got a split lip and crooked nose from her last hockey game.
“we’re building a fort,” she tells you. she shuffles to the side so that you can see powder, who’s making a snow angel. “well, we’re going to. wanna join?”
you nod, smiling. “ekko!”
your brother’s already behind you, slipping on his chunky boots and oversized coat that used to be yours before running outside and collapsing onto the fluffy snow next to powder. ziggy bolts outside, too, running circles around them.
you stumble to get your winter gear on as fast as possible, the cold air rushing inside your front hallway as vi waits for you, kicking her snowy boot against the concrete entryway step. not even a heartbeat after shutting the door behind you, vi takes your gloved hand in hers and pulls you forward, the two of you a flurry of laughter.
…..
hey, pretty girl. i was at this party and one of your songs came on! every time i hear it, i’m in awe of how amazing it is….how amazing you are. i’m basically walking home in a snowstorm, so i’m gonna go before my fingers freeze off, but i just wanted to say that i’m so proud of my rockstar girlfriend.
i was also wondering: are you coming home any time soon? the holidays are coming up, and i really miss you. we all do.
…..
track 3: last christmas by wham!
(winter — now)
vi should have learned from sonic youth and fleetwood mac:
no sex or romance between bandmates. it never ends well.
it was bad enough giving into the rumors and fooling around with cait, but it’s another layer of messiness now that cait and maddie dating. meanwhile, cait is very much still bitter towards vi, vi is very much pining after someone whom she’s pretty sure never wants to see her again, and steb and lorris are very much caught in the middle. it’s no wonder the band’s manager suggested everyone take some time apart to ease the tension. frankly, while others protested, vi was almost relieved at the suggestion.
so cait’s off to london, maddie’s off to glasgow, the boys are going god knows where, and vi —
vi’s heading back home, back to you.
she wakes up in the bed of her childhood for the first time in a long time. her dad put on fresh sheets, but they’re still the same ones from back then — worn flannel with cartoon penguins. it takes a lot of willpower to untangle herself from the warmth and cloud-like softness, but eventually she heads downstairs to the kitchen.
powder still has exams so she’s not home from college until tomorrow, and vander’s gone to work. it’s just vi in her too-small christmas pyjamas (she has yet to unpack), eating a box of stale cinnamon pop-tarts for breakfast even though it’s well past noon. curiosity gets the best of her, so she peers through the window to see if anyone is next door.
your mom’s car is in the driveway, completely snowed in. there had only been a dusting of snow while vi was devouring the first pastry, but four pop-tarts in and it’s about doubled. she waits until the snow stops falling; with nothing better to do and a sugar rush to burn off, vi pulls on her old winter coat and snow boots she hasn’t worn since she was 18, grabs a shovel from the garage, and gets to work.
it doesn’t take her long to clear the driveway, and she has some adrenaline to spare, so she decides to be a good neighbor.
vi’s heaving one last shovelful of snow over her shoulder when she hears:
“violet? is that you?”
she turns around. and, okay the first thing she registers is ziggy running towards her, the husky toppling her over into the snow.
“i missed you too, zig,” vi laughs.
she gets up as ziggy’s still bounding around in the snow, and sees your mom standing in the doorway, looking a little more tired and a little more gray. but the smile on her face when she sees that it is, in fact, vi — it’s so bright that the snow might not exactly melt away, but the years sure do.
vi remembers making snow angels with you while your moms gossiped over tea, how the two of you would stomp inside with a mess of slush and snow while laughter echoed from the living room. vi remembers your mom keeping a comforting arm around her shoulder through her mom’s funeral while you held her hand. she remembers your mom helping her pick out the perfect corsage to match your suit at prom, making a joke about how next time it might be an engagement ring, and telling vi how proud her mother would have been of her at your high school graduation party.
with the golden glow of nostalgia comes a crashing wave of guilt at what vi said to you last time you spoke.
“come inside, sweetheart. i’ll make you some hot cocoa as a thank you.”
vi is tempted to reject the offer, but your mom looks so hopeful and vi’s fingers are about to freeze off, anyways.
so your mom makes hot cocoa as vi defrosts, the two of them chatting in the familiar yellow kitchen that you and vi once almost burnt down while trying to bake a cake for powder’s birthday. even the magnets and paper memories decorating the fridge are the same, with the addition of an article about vi’s band that was featured in the rolling stone, pinned up by a ceramic cow.
“she’s an art teacher now,” your mom tells vi after giving an update on ekko. she glances at the oven clock. “speaking of which — i know you just finished shoveling our driveway, but do you mind helping me with another favor?”
“after the world’s best hot chocolate? anything.”
“i told my daughter that i’d pick her up from work, and i’m wondering if you would be able to take care of that.” your mom smiles. “i’m sensing a bad migraine coming on.”
the last sip of hot chocolate trickles down vi’s throat like cement. she knew she’d be seeing you, but didn’t quite plan for how that….reunion might go.
“of course,” vi says.
vi puts both of their mugs in the dishwasher, about to grab the car keys from the hook by the door when your mom calls out:
“oh, and violet?” vi turns around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”
you’re talking to a student when vi enters the art room of your old high school. nothing else in the building had changed — same boring concrete, same scratched up lockers, same graffiti immortalizing whom hooked up with whom. this room is the exception, vibrant with how students’ art is displayed all around, paintings and drawings and collages, and you’ve strung up multicolored christmas lights that give the whole space a cozy ambiance. you look the part of a cool, young art teacher: wearing a simple dark purple turtleneck tucked into black jeans and the same combat boots you’ve had since tenth grade, paint stains on your skin that is exposed by rolled up sleeves, and a marker behind your ear. you’re standing in front of an easel, talking to the student who happens to notice vi before you do.
“holy shit. is that violet lanes?”
vi watches as your face scrunches up in confusion, and then falls into shock when you see her standing there.
“it seems that it is violet lanes,” you state coolly while the student squeals. “what are you doing here?”
“oh, i, uh,” vi clears her throat, her palms sweaty. why is her body reacting like she’s a teenager about to ask out her crush for the first time? “your mom wasn’t feeling great, asked if i could pick you up from work.”
“you guys are friends?” the student asks, eyes wide as they flick between you and vi.
“we used to date, actually,” vi clarifies. wrong move, she realizes, because you can’t help but glare at her.
“oh my god.” the student squeals again and reaches in their pocket to whip out their phone. “i need to tell alyssa that ms. l/n was in a relationship with the violet lanes. are you guys gonna get back together? oh my god, have you come to win her back —”
“layla,” you clip, and by the furrow of layla’s brow, it seems like you’re not usually so stern. you smile at layla, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “you’ve done some great work today, but you’ll have to finish this when we’re back from winter break. do you mind giving ms. lanes and i a minute?”
layla nods once, gathers her things. when she walks past vi, she can’t help but ask for an autograph. vi complies, of course, even lets her take a selfie. a fan is a fan, after all.
and, quite frankly this is the only part of being in the band that she still enjoys: hearing how excited young girls are at the music she writes, the music that vi wished she had growing up, about girls liking girls, about girls falling in and out of love with each other. everything else is just an occupational hazard that vi’s getting more and more fed up with.
when vi turns her attention back to you, you’re finished putting all the material away, wiping your hands with an already paint-stained towel.
“i meant what you’re doing back in town,” you explain, not quite meeting vi’s eyes. you pack away some books and your laptop into a supple leather briefcase, and slip on your coat. vi’s cheeks flush when you catch her watching you.
“it…it doesn’t matter. i’m here for a while, though.”
you sigh. “okay.” and you don’t say anything more. vi keeps up with you as you switch off the lights, lock the door, and stride to the parking lot in silence. when you get to the car, you extend your hand.
“i’m driving,” you say, gesturing at her to give you the keys. “we both know that you’re a terrible driver.”
“i’m not a terrible driver,” vi guffaws.
“says the lesbian who gives the rest of us a bad name,” you quip, a hint of a smile dancing across your lips, like the first bout of sun after a winter storm. “c’mon, pretty girl. i’m not giving up, so unless you wanna freeze to death….”
the nickname slips effortlessly from your tongue, so much so that you don’t even seem to realize it, but vi’s breath hitches and she’s more than happy to fold to your every whim if it means hearing you call her pretty one more time.
“so….” vi glances over at you from the passenger seat. a snowy landscape passes outside the window, and you tap on the steering wheel to a generic christmas song that plays through the stereo. “you’re teaching high school now?”
she wonders if you remember the last fight you had, almost two years ago to the day.
you keep your eyes on the road. “yeah. guess i graduated from finger-painting with kindergarteners.”
vi feels her cheeks heat up all over again.
so, you do remember.
she wonders if you’ve replayed it over and over again and hoped for a different ending like she did. she should have thought more about what to actually say to you —
“you know, i never understood why you liked this song so much,” you suddenly say when the radio starts playing dolly parton’s cover of ‘i’ll be home for christmas.’
vi can read between the lines, but she’s waiting for you to point out the irony in her preference for a song that’s about someone wanting to go home for christmas, something vi has deliberately avoided at all costs these past few years.
“it just seems kinda sad,” you continue.
“you love ‘last christmas,’ and that one’s pretty sad,” vi points out.
“sure, but it ends hopefully.”
“oh?” vi tilts her head towards you. “how’d you figure?
“sure, it’s someone singing about heartbreak and how much it sucks during christmastime, but then there’s this hope that they still find true love down the line. it’s a maybe that isn’t hopeless.” you shrug. “meanwhile, your song ends with the lyric ‘if only in my dreams,’ which just seems too accepting of the fact that going home for christmas, being with the person they love — it might just be a dream.”
“i don’t know. some dreams do come true,” vi muses.
by now, you’ve made it home. you put the car in park but keep the engine going, presumably to avoid becoming icicles. neither of you make a move to leave.
you glance over at vi. “your dreams sure came true, ms. violet lanes,” you joke, but there’s an air of sadness to it.
“not all of them.”
“yeah? which ones haven’t?”
vi swallows the lump in her throat and hopes that you understand the look in her eyes. “let’s just say i’m working on them.”
you blink away and cut the engine.
….
you’re still dealing with the shock of seeing vi back in town when your brother, freshly home from college, suggests going skating.
he can be fairly convincing, especially when he mentions that it’s a christmas season tradition, so, you prepare for what is essentially a double date with your brother, his girlfriend/your ex-girlfriend’s sister, and your ex-girlfriend, with isha as a fifth wheel.
should be fun.
it turns out, despite all her past hockey experience, vi really cannot skate. in fact, skating seems to be the complete opposite of riding a bike: she’s terrible at it after years off the ice, essentially reenacting that scene from bambi. it’s easier to ignore vi’s presence when she’s sitting next to the snack bar, by herself, but then powder skates up next to you and asks if you’d be kind enough to please help her sister have a good time. you roll your eyes at her shit-eating grin, but it is a bit sad, watching vi on the sidelines. she’s wearing a beanie and a pair of sunglasses to hide her identity, and now she kinda looks like a divorced dad watching his grown kids pass him by while he’s stuck in a midlife crisis.
you convince vi to give skating another shot — it’s tradition after all — and pull her out onto the rink. you start by holding her from behind, keeping her hips steady until she gets the hang of it. you try to let go, but vi stumbles and reaches out for your gloved hand, and you melt into the familiarity of her fingers curled around yours. the two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm, first with you pulling vi along, then with her taking the lead, until vi almost knocks into a small child.
“see what i mean by you being a bad driver?” you jest, successfully maneuvering to avoid collision.
then, you follow where vi’s eyes have settled — on powder and isha laughing and chasing each other around the rink. vi had asked earlier when isha had dyed her hair blue; you still have some residue under your nails from last weekend, when powder came for a study break and the three of you ended up helping isha achieve a new look she’d apparently been itching to try.
“you know powder’s graduating this year?”
“she overloaded her credits so she could get out of there as soon as possible,” you explain, having had many conversations with powder leading up to the decision.
vi nods, her jaw clenched. you already know what she’s thinking, and frankly, you agree: that vi hasn’t been here, literally and figuratively. you also feel the warmth of vi’s skin radiating through her glove to yours, notice the slight flush to her freckled cheeks, how chapped her lips are from the cold, so much so that you’re tempted to share the vanilla chapstick you’ve got on your own lips, to kiss her deeply like you did last time you were here, together.
it’s only been three days since vi’s been back home. this is only the second time you’ve seen her, and you’re already falling back into old patterns, tempted to ask her to stay, to try again, even though you already know the answer.
except….not staying isn’t the deal breaker it used to be, so maybe trying again isn’t as hopeless as you think it is.
vi squeezes your hand, and you realize that you’ve stopped skating entirely.
“hey. you still with me?”
you nod, decide to enjoy this moment for as long as you can, and the two of you glide across the ice.
…..
when you suggest making stove-top s’mores, it’s another item on the list of things she’d missed.
a list that’s been growing a lot these past few days.
vi offers to make more once you’ve all run out, and ekko follows her into their kitchen while you, powder, and isha keep watching christmas specials in the living room. she turns on the gas stove, stabs a marshmallow through a wooden skewer and waits for it to roast — and, for ekko to say something.
“i don’t know what happened between you and my sister, but i need you to promise me that the tabloids aren’t true. that you and that kiramman chick didn’t hook up…at least until after y’all broke up.”
“or, what, you’re gonna challenge me to an arm wrestle? think you can finally beat me?”
“oh, i know it.”
a pause. the marshmallow catches on fire and vi blows on it to quell the damage.
“i didn’t cheat on her.” she throws out the burnt marshmallow and gives it another shot. “i would never. does….does she think i did?”
ekko shrugs. “not sure. some of those articles are pretty convincing. but, since you’re promising me that you didn’t…”
“i didn’t.”
“then that saves me from kicking your ass.” ekko nods once and uncrosses his arms, handing vi some graham crackers and chocolate. “actually, i could use your help with something.”
“sure.”
“she applied to this great art residency in new york, like, on whim. the only people she’s told are me, powder, and vander….i think she’s nervous to tell mom, at least until she knows for sure she’s gotten in, but this is the most excited i’ve seen her be about something in a while, and she worked really hard on her application…”
“i’m sure she did,” vi states. “what do you need my help with?”
“convincing her to go.”
“i’d love to help, but i’m not sure i’m someone she’d wanna hear from, especially about this. she was never a fan of me leaving to pursue my dreams.”
“she was never a fan of you leaving,” ekko corrects. “she’s still a fan of you pursuing your dreams.” he juts his chin out at the article stuck to the fridge.
vi had just assumed that your mom had pinned that up.
“okay.” vi says. “i’ll talk to her.”
a plateful of semi-burnt s’mores later, and vi and ekko return to the living room with the rest of you.
vi forgot how nice this felt, all of you cuddled on the couch, ziggy included, watching how the grinch stole christmas. she half expects her mom to walk in through the door without even knocking, shake the snow off her hair, and hold up a batch of pre-baked gingerbread people she’d gotten for the kids to decorate.
but that’s not happening. other than isha, none of you are kids anymore and things can never be the same.
and yet — you glance over at vi and give her a sticky marshmallow smile, and she feels her heart grow three sizes.
….
baby, i swear it’s not what it looks like. the record label thought it would be good promo to get a picture of me kissing under the mistletoe…’tis the season and all that…..cait and i were both really drunk and things got a bit out of hand….but it looks worse than it is. i swear on my mother’s grave that nothing happened.
please call me back, baby…..i’m so fucking sorry….please.
it’s not christmas without at least hearing your voice.
….
track 4: river by joni mitchell
(winter — age 23)
it’s hard to believe that hours ago, you were kissing vi backstage and showering her with praise after the concert. she was happy to indulge in your excitement, even though she was all sweaty and her ears were still ringing from the crowd.
more than happy, in fact. phone sex can only go so far, and it’d been too long since vi had seen you writhe and heard you whimper for her firsthand.
“i missed you so fucking much,” you groan, tightening your grip on vi’s hair. it’s now an inky black instead of fuschia — the band’s starting to lean more punk rock.
a particularly hard thrust is her way of telling you that she missed you too. so fucking much. she throws your legs over her shoulders, pushing the strap deeper inside you and digging her knees into the mattress as she coaxes you through another orgasm. you pull her down for one last searing kiss, your tongue searching each crevice of her mouth.
“i can’t believe you’re here,” vi continues a few moments later, after you’re both cleaned up and getting dressed. she wants to add something along the lines of i love you, but she bites back the sentiment. she’ll save that sappy shit for later tonight, when she finally gets down on one knee for you.
you glance back at her from where you’re pulling out a sparkly silver dress from your side of the closet (and isn’t that such a slip of the mind? your side, as if it’s a shared closet and a shared bedroom and a shared home; if she thought about it more, though, she would realize that, though she has no problem asking you to marry her, she’s still terrified at the thought of staying in one place for more than a few months).
“me neither,” you smile.
vi walks over to you, presses her half-dressed body against your lingerie-clad form (vi’s sure you wore this fuschia set just to drive her insane; it’s working). she lodges her hand behind your ear and pulls you in closer, kisses you deeply because you’re here and she missed you so fucking much and she’s so ready to make you her wife.
she could write a whole record just about the taste of your lips: the sweetness of vanilla chapstick, the saltiness of sweat and the headiness lingering from the wetness you lapped up from between her legs.
you pull away first. vi tries not to stare at how your chest heaves, your breasts straining against intricate lace.
“we, um.” you clear your throat. you slip your hand underneath vi’s blazer, and she groans when you make contact with the exposed, burning skin of her abdomen. vi thinks you’re about to suggest another round, or two, or ten, but instead you untangle yourself from her and say: “we should probably get ready.”
the after party is going well. the club’s busy, the music’s good, and the drinks are flowing.
you seem to be having a great time until someone (probably cait or maddie, on cait’s behalf) lets it slip that the band’s heading to london later in the month to start recording their new album before the end of the year….something vi decidedly did not want to tell you until later tonight, after the high of the proposal, after she’s promised you that she’s dedicated to this relationship, that she’s always been dedicated to you.
instead, vi’s trailing behind you as you angrily stomp towards the bathroom, her mind scrambling to come up with a way out of this argument.
there’s a line, but you cut in front and slip inside as soon as someone walks out.
“wait, what the fu —”
you slam the door and lock it behind you once you’re both inside, ignoring the subsequent banging and jiggling of the handle.
“please, baby, let me explain —”
“i can’t fucking believe you,” your voice is steady, measured, and for some reason that makes vi even more nervous. “you give empty promise after empty promise that you’ll be more present, but something always gets in the way, is always more important than —”
“don’t you dare say that you’re not important to me. i offer to fly you out anywhere to be with me, but you’ve only taken me up on the offer once. twice, now.”
“it’s been five years, vi. five years of us staying together because….god, at this point i don’t even know why — ”
“do you not understand how much i love you?” vi raises her voice over the sound of the club music outside. “i was gonna propose tonight.”
you stare at her, then start to laugh.
“please tell me you’re joking.”
“i’m not.”
“if you think marriage will save us, then you’re delusional. what was your plan — call me your wife while we’re thousands of miles apart, but not even have the time to answer my calls? we’re barely in a relationship now, vi. all that’s left between us are missed calls and voicemails —”
“oh that’s really all that’s left between us?”
“i love you, violet. i have since we were kids. but, now, there’s also all this — the parties, the crowds, the fame….you’ve gone all over the world, and you can’t even be bothered to visit your family during the holidays.”
“well i’m sorry that my ambitions are bigger than that nothing town we grew up in,” vi snaps. “i can’t believe you’re throwing a tantrum because i’m not making it home for christmas. for what? so we can all reminisce by the fireplace, pretend that we can be kids again, even though things can —” vi chokes back a sob, soothes it with a healthy dose of anger. “things can never be the same. you need to grow the fuck up.”
“maybe you should be the one to grow up!” you finally yell. “convincing yourself that this relationship is working, meanwhile you’re running away from everything and everyone you grew up with because it reminds you of your —”
“at least i’m not afraid to actually go after my dreams,” vi cuts you off before you can finish that sentence, uses the broken shards of your words against you. “don’t you want more for your life than finger-painting with a bunch of kindergarteners? you’re gonna end up just like your deadbeat mom, going nowhere, drinking yourself to sleep, all alone, with nothing to show for the life you’ve lived.”
as soon as the words leave her mouth, vi wishes she could take them back. you don’t bother swallowing your tears, letting them rush down your cheeks. vi digs her nails into her palms to prevent herself from reaching out and wiping them. it wouldn’t make sense, anyways. she’s the reason you’re crying.
you take a deep, shaky breath.
“yeah, well, i’m glad that your mom isn’t alive to see what a selfish asshole you’ve become.” there’s a pause, and vi feels her stomach turn at your casual cruelty, your quiet anger. “i’m gonna pack up my stuff and catch the first flight out of here. merry fucking christmas and happy fucking new year. have a nice life.”
vi screams and throws the velvet box against the door you’ve slammed shut behind you. the hot tears that were building in her throat finally boil over. the engagement ring clatters onto the floor.
…..
vi? it’s me. not sure if you’ve blocked my number. i wouldn’t blame you. i know it’s been, like, a year, but it feels weird not hearing your voice for this long, especially around the holidays. well, i guess i could just turn on the radio….it’s not the same, though. anyways, merry christmas. happy new year, too. and….and i’m sorry.
please come home.
…..
track 5: i’ll be home for christmas by dolly parton
(winter — now)
karaoke at the last drop used to be one of vi’s favorite christmas traditions, so you decidedly avoided it at all cost since the breakup. vander always tried to convince you to join, but he understood and even made sure to not give you a shift during that time after you started working there at 21.
you kept the job because, evidently, high school art teachers don’t make a ton of money, and you would one day like to move out of your mother’s house.
which, as it turns out, might happen sooner rather than later. you applied for this artist residency in new york, and, yeah, you put time and effort and heart into your application, but you were sure that you’d be rejected. while you got your acceptance email this morning, and you were so fucking overjoyed at first, the thought of leaving still terrifies you, so you’ll postpone worrying about that until after the holidays. that’s what they’re for, anyways: a break from reality, a peek into a cozy snow-covered world where everyone is festive and joyous and worry-free.
right now though, you’re feeling neither festive nor joyous. gert called in sick, and no one else is able to cover for them, so you’re stuck at the last drop on christmas eve, listening to one of your old high school classmates drunkenly fumble the lyrics of darlene love’s ‘christmas (baby, please come home).’
about three verses in, vi walks into the bar with mylo and claggor, flakes of fluffy snow melting into her grayish pink hair. you’re already pouring their drinks before they reach the counter. mylo and claggor offer their sincere appreciation, chattering away as they leave to snag a booth in the corner. vi stares at her drink before grabbing the beer glass.
“you remember.”
“are you surprised?”
vi smiles. “no. it’s just nice. cait keeps insisting i order gin martinis instead. says it’s classier.”
something sour curdles in your stomach. “yeah, well. i’ve always liked you the way you are.”
that probably ended up sounding like you’re still pining after vi (which you’re….not) rather than the bitter comment you intended it to be.
vi’s soft blue eyes search yours.
“i better get back to the boys,” she finally says. “maybe sign up for a song or two.”
you’re busy clearing a table when you hear her voice again. actually — a silence fills the bar, and it’s replaced by the lush rumble of vi singing ‘last christmas.’
you watch her as she performs, eyes locked on yours, and it’s over before you know it. you feel like you should go say something to her, but then there are a bunch of excited fans that she has to attend to, signing autographs, taking photos.
as you swallow your disappointment, the normal chatter of the bar resumes. you’re walking back to the kitchen when you feel someone pinch the back of your thigh, right under your ass. you whip around to find that old classmate who butchered a christmas classic an hour or so before (james, you think his name is, from ninth grade science), with the most arrogant smirk.
“hey, gorgeous. my friends and i were just arguing over who should take you home tonight.” he gestures towards a table of guys who look like equally preppy assholes. “i won the chugging contest.”
“good for you,” you say, balancing a tray of empty glasses. “grope someone in here again, and you’ll be sorry you did.” you turn around to get back to work, but james grabs your wrist and stands up abruptly so you’re chest-to-chest.
“i don’t think you understand what i’m offering, baby.” you gag at the nickname and the stench of beer on his breath. you’re a bartender, you’re used to getting hit on, but creeps like this are the worst.
you rip away from his grasp.
“i’m not interested,” you snap. “and i’m not your baby.”
“listen.” james puts his hands on your shoulders, and if both of your hands were free, you would promptly push him away. everyone’s having a good time and you don’t wanna cause a scene, so you try to think of ways to get this asshole out of the bar and into the snow without much of a fight. “you know, santa might come down your chimney on christmas eve, but if you’ve been a good girl this year i’ll come down your —”
“there you are!” powder’s voice is loud over the sound of someone singing another generic christmas carol. she knocks into your side, breathless. “sorry we’re late. had some car trouble.”
“well, hello.” he removes his hands from your shoulders, shifts his predatory gaze from you to powder.
oh, fuck no.
“powder,” you keep your voice steady even if your heart is racing. “go back to the table. i’ll be there in a sec.”
james reaches out for powder, but you punch him square in the jaw before he can so much as touch her, the tray of glasses crashing on the floor.
james’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only egotistical, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a blow to their ego.
in fact, he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face.
you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but powder manages to catch you before you tumble into the broken glass. she holds you as people start yelling. you think that vander rushes over, too, shouting at james to get the fuck out of his bar and never step foot in it again.
you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is all a bit fuzzy. powder tries her best, but you slump your body weight into hers and she almost topples over.
“i’ve got her.” vi’s surprisingly calm voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you.
somehow, you find yourself in the bathroom, sitting on the counter as vi stands between your legs. she carefully examines your injury, but you notice how she avoids making eye contact.
you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while.
“remember teaching me how to throw a punch?” the question slips past your lips before you can stop it.
vi looks slightly amused, and she finally meets your gaze. “‘course i do,” she hums. “you tried to convince me to help you start an all-female fight club at school.”
a smile creeps onto your face, despite the pain from your nose.
she remembers.
somewhere within her, vi holds on to fragments of you.
“thank god the principal vetoed it. would’ve been a disaster,” she continues.
vi wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of her silk red button-down now stained a darker crimson. “how’s your hand?” she asks.
you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”
vi smiles sadly. “i guess you’ve been the one protecting my sister while i’ve been away.”
while i’ve been away.
the reminder feels like a stab to the heart.
vi’s back home, sure, but only for a limited time.
her fingers graze your cheek, and the breath hitches in your throat.
“you know, i only wanted to start that fight club as an elaborate plan to spend more time together,” you confess, opting to preserve the delicate bubble of nostalgia you’d stumbled into together. “we were each so busy….i had studio, and you were always away at hockey games. it wasn’t realistic in the end, though.”
“i would’ve stayed if you asked,” she tells you, and you wonder exactly what she might be referring to.
you swallow the lump in your throat. “it’s what you loved, though.”
“but i - i loved you, more. you had to have known that.”
“yeah, well. i loved you, too,” you explain, and it’s clear that neither of you are talking about a lesbian fight club. “whether it was hockey, or music….as long your heart was in it, it was more worth it to let you go, to not stand in the way of your dreams.”
“you were my dream.”
you scoff, cheeks heating up, and look away. “you probably say that to all the girls.”
“no.” vi guides your chin towards her. “just the one.”
it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on vi’s— messy, urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. she cradles your face in her hands, and you wrap your legs around her waist to bring her closer. you taste beer on her tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the adrenaline, but dizzy from her. vi’s gaze is heavy on yours as she traces your top lip with her thumb.
“vi,” you whimper, itching to kiss her again.
“you’re still bleeding.”
vi wipes away the blood with the sleeve of her shirt. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. vander, wondering if you’re okay and if maybe you could hurry up and get back to work.
you can’t sleep that night. before, staying up on christmas eve was an elaborate operation to catch santa. now, it’s overthinking a very hot kiss and all the unresolved tension between you and your ex-girlfriend next door.
logically, you knew that you missed vi, everything about her and who she is, the way you would laugh and argue and make love. but the rush of feeling her tongue licking into your mouth, her body melding into yours after being apart for so long….
you’re scared that she won’t feel the same, but you’re even more terrified of letting the moment slip through both your fingers without at least trying.
so, you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to her, when by some christmas miracle you get a text from her.
she climbs through your window not long after, wearing plaid boxer shorts and a zaun university sweatshirt you’ve been looking for, for about five years. you didn’t bother to change, either, only wearing an oversized shirt. you sit cross-legged on your bed as she waits by the window. vi stares at your chest for a good few seconds, and you remember that you’re wearing one of her band’s concert tees, faded from years of wear.
“so, um,” vi starts, her voice as soft as the well-worn cotton of your shirt. “we have so much shit to talk about and figure out, but, i, uh, can’t stop thinking about early tonight —”
“vi.” the swarm of butterflies in your stomach is replaced by something more delicate, more urgent. “do you wanna come sit?”
vi swallows thickly, looking between you and the still open window. a winter breeze rushes through. you shiver, thinking she might just turn around and disappear into the cold night. instead, she shuts the window, removes her snow-covered boots, and settles onto the bed next to you.
you place a tentative hand on her cheek, still cold and slightly flushed. she shudders when you run your thumb over the tattoo under her eye.
“i know there’s a lot we have to work through.” you take a deep breath as she shifts closer, suddenly dizzy from the familiar scent of her winter pine old-spice body wash. “right now….right now, i just want you.”
“yeah?” vi smirks, her shyness melting away. she settles a warm hand on your bare thigh. “how do you want me?”
you exhale sharply when her hand travels higher, dull nails scraping at the fabric of your underwear.
“it’s cute that you’re flustered,” she quips, leaning in even closer. her breath is warm and heavy against your lips. “because i’ve spent so many night replaying all the dirty, nasty things we used to —”
you tug her sweatshirt and pull her back onto the bed, feeling her body solid against yours. the vibration of her groan shudders through your body when you crash your lips onto hers with such hunger, you’d think you had been starving without her.
“how’s about an encore, superstar?” you drawl.
you bite your lip hard at how vi nods at you desperately, eyes all dark and lustful.
“you read my mind,” she breathes. by now, her hand has reached the hem of your shirt, and she pushes up the cotton to reveal the supple skin of your stomach. you give her permission to remove it, leaving your top half exposed.
her lips nip and suck down your body until she reaches the waistband of your panties. she pulls it up with her teeth, the elastic snapping back when she lets go. you whine her name, and she looks up at you with dark eyes.
“can i?” her breath fans over your navel, her nails digging into your hips as she waits for your answer.
“yes. please.”
you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel vi smirk against your inner thigh before sinking her teeth into it. you whimper, and vi salves her tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. she positions your legs over her shoulders for better access to where you need her most.
vi moves her tongue and fingers in all the ways she remembers makes you shake, curl your toes, and grind down on her face. in return, you grip her pink hair, tightly, and utter praise in all the ways you remember makes her shake.
“just like that, pretty girl,” you encourage, practically melting into the mattress. it feels so good — dangerously good, intoxicating, even — to be devoured by vi. “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”
vi’s moan vibrates throughout your body and she becomes faster, reaches her tongue deeper, bringing you over the edge. she leaves a few more bites on your body on her way up to meet you and when she does, vi’s lips and chin are shining with your release.
you lean forward slightly to lick it up. you ghost your mouth over hers.
“your turn,” you taunt and run your thumb over her tattooed cheek.
you twist your calf around vi’s leg and flip your positions. she lets out a yelp when her back hits the mattress. once you’re hovering over her, legs and arms on either side of her body, you do what you’re sure you’d never get tired of doing: you kiss her, passionately, deeply. you bite her lip as you pull away.
there was always a bit of jealousy that gnawed at you, became your very-own shoulder devil that you just couldn’t shake when you were together, no matter how hard you tried. it was no secret that vi was admired by many, that girls around the world were crushing on her, hoping they’d catch her eye, get their chance with her. you never felt like she was yours, and yours alone.
but you do get a deep satisfaction knowing that right here, right now, you’re the only person who gets to see her like this — pink hair splayed across the pillows like her very own halo, but the rest of her telling a much less-angelic, much more sinister story: her lips swollen and kiss-bitten, her cheeks a devilish shade of red, her eyes dark and lustful and waiting for you to make the next move.
"you want me to have my way with you?" you whisper, voice honeyed with desire.
vi whimpers, a sound that fuels the fire in your abdomen. "yes."
you practically rip off her sweatshirt, kiss down her jaw, her neck, her exposed chest and sternum down to her stomach. vi lifts her hips from the bed so that you can remove her boxers, and you’re delighted to find nothing else underneath.
you’re greeted by her glistening pussy. blowing onto her folds, you run your tongue from her hole to her clit, loving how you already feel her slick coating your lips. vi spread her legs even wider, and you take the opportunity to sink two fingers into her cunt. you know her body, as well as you know your own, as well as she knows yours. you flick your gaze up, view slightly blocked by the pink curls of her bush, but you can still picture it — how her eyes roll back, how her mouth opens to release a perfectly delicious gasp.
"god, i've barely touched you and you're already about to cum. did you miss me that much?" you tease, feeling her clench around your fingers. as if you aren’t subtly rutting your hips against the mattress, eager to ease the throbbing between your legs.
all you get in response is whine. it’s muffled, and you crane your neck upward to see her biting down on her knuckles, so hard you’re worried she might break skin.
unacceptable.
the rest of the world gets to hear her every day, any time they please. you want to be serenaded by the lyrics of her want, the notes of her desire. all for you and you alone.
with your other hand, you reach up to pinch one of her pierced nipples, always so sensitive. "answer me, violet."
vi props herself up on her elbows to look at you, just as you remove your mouth from her.
"yes!" she sings, practically sobbing. you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the throbbing between your thighs intensify, hearing the frantic lilt of her voice — like she needs you and only you. "i missed you so fucking much. please, just do something."
at her request, you move up the bed so that the two of you are face to face, one of your hands holding her chin while the other is two fingers deep in her cunt. you add another, just to reveal in the timber of her sultry moan. she tries to bring her hand back, to quiet herself, but you shake your head.
with your thumb, you trace over her lips, uneven and scarred and imperfectly beautiful. "open."
vi obeys you instantly. you spit in her mouth, heart racing as you watch her swallow the combination of your saliva and her cum without question.
you continue fucking her with your fingers until she moans, louder and louder as she reaches her peak.
removing your fingers from her pussy, you lock eyes with her as you bring your syrupy fingers to your mouth and suck off her juices. then, you kiss underneath her ear, lips sticking slightly to her skin, and you whisper: "now i know why they say you have the voice of an angel.”
“fuck,” she exhales, the breath turning into a chuckle as you kiss underneath her chin, where you know she’s ticklish.
"one more time for me, okay, pretty girl? i want to feel you against me," you whisper. "i want to watch you fall apart, knowing that i'm the one who makes you feel this good."
vi nods, allowing you to adjust your positions so that your cunts are touching. you start fucking her down into the mattress and she sits up slightly so that your nipples brush against each other, the cold metal of her piercings encouraging the roll of your hips, her nails digging into the curve of your ass to bring you impossibly closer.
“i missed you too. so fucking much,” you finally admit. you flick one of the silver rings before leaning down and wrapping your lips around her nipple.
“i missed these, too,” you add as you release her nipple with a pop, and vi moans. you’re grinning from ear to ear because, holy shit, vi is here and you’re together and you’re both happy, if only at the ecstasy of your silken cunts gliding against each other, at the taste of the other slicking your tongues, as thick as nectar and twice as sweet.
she laughs — love and magic and everlasting bliss — and you have to capture her lips now if you want to swallow the sound. you feel it bounce through your ribcage, awaken something deep within you that you feared was lost to time.
vi thrusts her hips upwards, presses harder against the seam of your cunt until you’re gushing against each other, not quite sure who’s making what mess.
strings of cum connect you as you remove your body from hers. for a few seconds, you both lay on your backs, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch your breath. vi drapes an arm over her eyes, chest heaving.
you throw on some clothes and leave the room, hoping that vi’s still there when you get back.
….
vi worries that if she opens her eyes, she’ll wake up from this dream.
she’ll be in some uncomfortable bed in london or tokyo or los angeles. the dull ache between her legs would be thanks to some girl who’d be eager to text all her friends and spill all the details about what vi likes in bed, or caitlyn who would tell vi to shave next time, darling, or i won’t let you fuck me again anytime soon.
instead, vi hears the creak of a door opening, feet tiptoeing along the floorboards. the mattress shifts with the weight of someone between her legs, though their body is not touching hers.
“vi, baby,” a gentle coaxing, a familiar voice, pulling towards something she forgot she needed. her heart soars when she finds you kneeling on the bed, holding a damp towel in one hand and a glass of water in another.
“yeah?” her voice is hoarse, but her throat doesn’t sting in the same way it does after a concert. it feels tender, well-used, well-loved.
you hold out the cup of water, watch vi eagerly gulp down half of it before she realizes what she’s done.
“shit, i — did you want some?”
you smile and shake your head. “i had some downstairs after my shower.” it’s then that vi registers the water dripping from the ends of your hair, soaking the fabric of her (fine, your) sweatshirt. “i’m gonna clean you up. is that okay?”
vi nods.
okay? okay? vi thinks she might have whiplash.
it’s been a while since someone has fucked her so well she’d be satisfied for years and then touched her so tenderly afterwards. you run the damp cloth over vi’s sticky, sweaty skin, occasionally leaning down to press soft lips where you’d left teeth marks and bruises before.
“there.” you throw the cloth on the floor. “so, um. do you wanna stay….?”
you bite your lip as you wait for vi to answer. you start picking at your nail polish, too. vi sits up and grabs your hand.
“i do,” she soothes. “do you want me to?”
your smile brightens the entire room and you kiss vi before muttering:
“i do.”
vi slips on her boxers as you settle into the bed next to her, leaving her top half bare. she notices the sketchbook on your bedside table, and she lifts it up at you, a silent question if she can flip through. you take it from her as you shift to sit between her legs, her chest warm against your back. the room’s only illuminated by the string of multicolored christmas lights you’d left on, but vi can see the talent, the passion behind your work as you walk her through your sketchbook. you tell her about the techniques you’ve been working on and new mediums you want to explore, about how you want to make the kind of art that makes people appreciate the beauty in the everyday.
“i always loved your art,” she muses. vi cranes her neck slightly, places a kiss on your shoulder then one on your cheek. “the world would be more beautiful if you shared it.”
you hum and place the sketchbook on your bedside table. you each shift to your sides, facing each other; vi notches a leg around your hips, and you throw an arm around her waist, fingers trailing down her tattooed back.
“ekko talked to you, huh?”
“i would have said that even if he hadn’t,” vi promises. “so….have you heard anything yet?”
“well….yeah,” you sigh, smiling shyly. “i got in, actually.”
“really? that’s amazing, baby.” she beams at you, excitedly cupping your face in her hands, leaving small kisses across your cheeks until you’re giggling.
“okay, okay,” you laugh. “i don’t know if i’m gonna go yet.”
vi hums knowingly. she presses her forehead against yours.
“i know you’re scared, baby,” she says softly. “but sometimes it’s just a leap of faith.”
“i know.” you pause, gnawing at your bottom lip while your eyes fixate on the scar on her upper lip. “can i ask you something?
“anything.”
“when you proposed to me….” her body tenses up, but you brush your hand over her bicep and the tension in her muscles dissipates. “was that a leap of faith? like, were you scared?”
“well, not at first.” she takes a shuddery breath, her voice suddenly small. “i always thought that we’d be together….i just didn’t think through how we’d make it work, i guess. i didn’t mean to mess things up, though.”
“hey.” vi leans into the hand you cup around her cheek. “we both messed up. we never actually talked, you know? but….i’m glad we are, now.” you swallow. “i still love you, vi.”
vi exhales. “you know, girls tell me that they love me pretty much every day.”
you can’t help it — you roll your eyes, and vi laughs. because, truthfully, her heart has felt more full at your admission of love just now than it ever has for an area of screaming fans.
“there’s a point to this, i promise,” she says, nudging her nose against yours. “i used to get such a thrill from it….but then i think about what you said earlier. my heart — it’s just not in it anymore. all the band is now is drama and gossip and compromises of fame over art, and…. i don’t know. it’s not really what i want anymore. i want to be with you. for real, this time.”
you blink at her; she can feel your chest pulsing against hers like a hummingbird.
“would you, um, if i were to take that leap of faith and do that artist residency, would you —”
“anywhere you wanna go,” vi promises. she thinks about it a bit more….how nice it’s been to be home for the holidays, how nice it would be to come home year round. “preferably close enough so we can have dinner at home on the weekends.”
“sounds like a plan,” you smile.
the two of you twist closer underneath the flannel sheets, sink into the mattress, and gaze up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to your ceiling until you fall asleep in each other’s arms.
you jolt awake a few hours later, several firm knocks on the door and ekko shouting:
“it’s christmas! get the fuck up before ziggy eats all the bacon!”
beside you, vi protects you from the frosty winter morning. her body radiates warmth, and her eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, as you gently shake her shoulder.
she groans, turning on her back, rubbing sleep from her eye.
“i better go.”
“....yeah.”
you flush when you glance over as vi’s slipping on her sweatshirt, rose-petal bruises delicate across her skin. she opens the window, hair still mussed up, and a gust of frigid air rushes into the room.
the image is so familiar: vi, one leg in your room and another out the window. you feel like a teenager again, scrambling to get dressed and avoid anyone hearing that you’d snuck your girlfriend into your room late at night. but there’s something else now, too — you imagine this becoming routine: waking up next to each other every day, swapping clothes, kissing over coffee and pancakes at breakfast. a place where the two of you might create some new memories, build a shared life together. and much more, so much more that feels like it could be your reality, sooner rather than later.
you’re so deep in thought that you don’t notice vi rushing back towards you. she kisses you and kisses you, until your lungs are burning.
"merry christmas, baby,” she mumbles against your lips.
you grin back at her. “merry christmas, vi.”
....
hi baby, i know you’re at studio right now, but i forgot to ask you this morning: how do you feel about sending out holiday cards this year? i know they’re kind of cheesy, but it seems like the type of thing married couples might do…..
anyways, we’ll talk about it when you get home. i’m test-driving this new recipe for brussel sprouts to bring to dinner at my dad’s.
i’ll see you later. love you!
#hope y'all had great holidays + + happy new year!!!#again i wasn't sure if i should post this bc it is VERY late#but i guess better late than never!!#my plan is to either work on that werewolf!vi au or spiderverse!vi au now#except rockstar vi still has a chokehold on me#so i think i might just write something along those lines but we'll see#saf writes#arcane#vi arcane smut#vi arcane#vi arcane x reader#arcane x reader#arcane smut#vi smut#vi x reader#vi fanfic#vi#vi league of legends#lesbian#wlw smut#wlw fanfic#vi fluff
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no more mister shy guy.
OP x fem!reader
in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you
i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3
songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff
2.8k words
you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.
oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.
he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.
oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.
it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.
but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.
“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.
“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.
oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.
you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.
“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.
“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.
panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.
“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”
“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”
“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.
you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.
your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.
“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.
“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”
oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.
he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.
“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”
the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.
“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.
“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.
painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.
he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.
“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.
you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.
you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.
you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.
his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.
��oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.
he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.
“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.
“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.
“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.
oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.
“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.
“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.
“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.
his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.
“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.
oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.
“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.
“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.
“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.
“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.
oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.
“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.
“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.
“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.
the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.
“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.
“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.
he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.
thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.
“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.
you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.
“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.
“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.
“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.
“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.
“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.
“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”
“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.
“there he is.” you sigh happily.
when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.
-
whoops? lol
-
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jump then fall (into you) | part 1
banner by the talented @jimilter 💖
pairing ↠ jungkook x reader
genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut
word count ↠ 52k (split into 3 parts | pt 1. 24k)
18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., nipple play, protected sex etc.
summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?
note. i'm backkkkk...?! with a disclaimer too:
I’ve been writing this on and off for pretty much two years so 1. it's not proofread bc i have not got the attention span to do that for 50k+ and I never got to read over what I previously wrote before working on it again so it might be a bit mismatched…? 2. I can’t say I’m hugely happy with this fic because it wasn’t a continuous workflow, it just doesn’t match the standards I have for myself but i tried and I’ll do better for the next ones which I’m excited about ;)
please interact and tell me how you find it! <3 it's been forever and i've missed you all 🥺
due to tumblr text post limitations, I’ve had to publish in three parts — links for part 2 + 3 can be found at the end.
↠ a part of the seven seas collab hosted by the wonderful yannie @ressjeon 🌊🥰 two years late but I made it :’)
part 1
“Gosh, Y/N, it’s a three week trip, you’re not going for a year!”
The frustration in Jungkook’s voice has you whipping around, a pair of Valentino’s in one hand, Manolo’s in the other. “It’s Alex’s wedding cruise, Jungkook. Everyone and their parents are going to be there, mine included!”
“Not mine!” he huffs, putting the last of your swimsuits into the suitcase open in front of him. You don’t blame him for being so frustrated, after all, he has been folding your clothes for the last hour while his single suitcase sits ready to go downstairs in the foyer.
“Actually in case you’ve forgotten,” you start, stepping carefully through the piles of clothes in your massive closet to go towards him, “my mom has fed and even bathed you once after that time you wet yourself, so technically she’s as good as yours too.”
“That was one time, and I barely even remember it so it doesn’t count.”
“I do,” you smile, coming to stop in front of him.
He sighs, looking down at the stilettos you’re holding. “We’ve been packing for hours already, you should’ve done this nights ago if it was gonna take this long.”
Now it’s you who’s sighing. “It’s been an hour not hours, besides we’re almost done now.”
Jungkook arches his brow, folding his arms in front of him. “Then what’re all your clothes doing on the floor?”
“They just need to go in one of the suitcases,” you smile. “See, we’re almost done.”
Unconvinced, Jungkook looks around at the mess but eventually nods. “Fine, but you can finish yourself, I’m going to eat—“
“No, wait, you can’t leave me!” you exclaim, reaching for Jungkook as your eyes go wide as a doe.
Telltale traces of a smile on Jungkook’s features let you know he was expecting this. He looks down at you, a loose curl hanging over his forehead. There was once a time when you were the taller one, but that only lasted a few years before Jungkook got in a good few inches between you.
Both of you were just turning six when you first met although it always felt like Jungkook was a little younger to you in the first few years of your friendship, probably because of his naturally introverted nature which he more often steps out of when he feels comfortable to do so. But back then, he was just a wide eyed six year old who hid behind his mother as she came to work on her first day at the estate you call home.
Knowing Jungkook was the same age as you and from a single parent household, your mom suggested that he could stay with you instead of his mom needing to hire someone to look after him while she worked. That was probably one of the best things that ever happened to the both of you. Jungkook became a better friend to you than many of those at your private school full of elementary school kids who wished they were ten years older than they were, and as the years went on there was nothing you didn’t do together.
Naturally, your family got to know Jungkook well and being the little smartass he’s always been, Jungkook impressed your father so much that he helped him to apply for a scholarship position as you moved into high school. Of course Jungkook got in, and though it was only a partial scholarship, your father insisted on paying the rest of his fees which his mother found hard to accept but Jungkook promised your father to pay him back in the future. Fast forward a little more than a decade and Jungkook has paid back all of the fees thanks to being CEO of an affluent software company developed from his love of gaming.
He struggles to fight his smile and you can see he’s contemplating going down or not, having to choose between food or you. “What do you even need me for?” he asks, taking the smallest step closer, so small you don’t even notice.
“Fashion advice?” you shrug, keeping an iron-like grip on his arms.
He narrows his eyes. “You told me my fashion style is shit.”
“Was,” you correct, sliding your hands up his arms and down his chest with a satisfied smile. “Now is different though, I’ve rubbed off on you.” You glance down at his figure too, checking out his outfit.
Jungkook chuckles as he follows your gaze. “Why would you need my help when you have yourself then, hm?”
Pouting at him, your arms slip around his waist and squeeze him in a hug. “You’re Mr Muscle, who else is gonna help me carry all this stuff?”
He pouts back sarcastically. “Is princess gonna break a heel if she carries her own suitcase?”
As you shrug, your brows remain furrowed. “Maybe, or a nail,” you say, letting one hand off his waist to show off a fresh manicure. As you wiggle your fingers ahead of him, he breaks into a smile.
“You know you have a bunch of dudes in suits downstairs, just waiting to help you with this stuff. I’m pretty sure it’s their job.”
“Yes, but they don’t give me fashion advice like you do,” you respond with a cheeky wink.
Jungkook takes the heels you’re holding off of you. “Here’s some advice — pack light.” He throws the heels behind him somewhere in your closet, earning a frown from you as your eyes follow where they land in the middle of your blown out closet.
“Fine,” you sigh, looking back up at him. “I’ll lose the heels if you promise you’ll stay with me now.”
As a small smile grows on his lips, Jungkook’s arms find their way around your waist too. “Only if you promise you’ll make me a sandwich before we go?” His smile grows knowingly as he gives in to your charm — you’ve always found it’s easy to encourage Jungkook to go along with whatever you want, he just can’t seem to say no to you.
“PB and J?” you ask with a smile that matches his.
He nods once, eyes shimmering as he still gazes at you.
“Of all the foods you could ask for, it’s always PB and J,” you laugh.
He shrugs, letting go as you move to finish packing. “There’s nothing else I want.”
Arching a brow, you throw a few pairs of linen pants towards one of the suitcases in your closet. “We literally have a live-in chef, you know, Frederico, the guy you have a secret handshake with?”
“Yes, what of him?” Jungkook says huffing.
“And you still want PB and J when he can make you anything?”
Jungkook steps towards your suitcase and picks up a pair of pants to roll. “I know that, but I just need some food in me and quick, so the simple option is best.”
Stepping forward, you take the pants off of him and roll them yourself. “If you would be patient enough to wait a few more minutes then you could have a sandwich that’ll fill you up for longer than half an hour.”
“And if you didn’t have more clothes than half the country combined then we would probably already be on our way to the airport,” Jungkook responds sassily, cocking his head.
“Don’t get smart with me or I won’t make your sandwich,” you sass back.
“I’ll just ask Freddie to make it for me and you don’t get Mr Muscle.”
Grumbling, you shove the rolled pants back into his hands as he laughs, taking them to place in one of the open suitcases. Not long after, all of your suitcases are packed and in the car, ready to go.
The drive to the airport takes a little under an hour and upon arriving, the car takes you straight to the jet. Apparently you did take a little too long packing as your mom so pointedly lets you know after arriving, but luckily for you there’s a few others missing from the families you’re taking the jet with. With time to kill, Jungkook and you have a few idle chats with the others, most of whom you went to school with so the conversation comes easily but eventually you settle into the seats opposite your parents.
“How was your drive here, darling?” your mom asks while closing her bag after a little skin TLC.
“It was fine,” you answer, pulling out your own bag full of the skincare you deemed necessary to carry for the plane trip.
“And how did you find it, Jungkook?”
Jungkook shrugs. “It was good.”
“Lovely,” she smiles. “It’s going to be a wonderful trip.”
From beside her, your dad sighs, putting away his tablet. “Do we know how long the flight is to Marbella?”
“Oh, honey,” your mom frowns disapprovingly. “Don’t be such a grumpy lump before we’re even in the air.”
Jokingly, your father looks at Jungkook and you, and then gives your mom a side eye. “I just had a few important meetings that Chris accidentally scheduled for today so I’m wondering if I could still make them online.”
Dismissively, your mom waves her hand. “No work talk, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”
“Alright, you’re right,” your dad concedes. “Maybe to start we could get a few drinks then, eh?” He raises his brow at Jungkook who approves with a big smile and both of them flag down a flight attendant.
Once there’s a drink in everyone’s hand, your parents settle into conversation with Jungkook and you.
“So are you excited to see Alex, Y/N?” your father asks.
“Absolutely,” you smile. “Though I think I’m more excited to see Sophia and Alias, it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to spend time with them.”
“Oh, Jungkook, you must be excited to see Sophia too,” your mom says with a bit of a cheeky smile.
Jungkook chuckles nervously, glancing at you though you’re sporting the same smile as your mother. “I mean, yeah, we’re good friends.”
“Well if you weren’t, things would be pretty awkward,” your dad laughs before helping himself to some food he ordered with the drinks.
“Yeah,” Jungkook mutters, managing a small laugh.
“Oh come on, guys,” you laugh, nudging him. “She’s happy you’re coming too.”
He nods appreciatively before taking a sip of his drink. “It’s her parents I’m more worried about.”
At this, your mom laughs too. “Oh, Leon and Helena love you really, dear, it’s all just for a laugh.” She leans forwards and squeezes his hand with her usual tender smile. “Though if it really bothers you, we could have a word with them, without letting on it’s coming from you of course.”
Smiling, Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, that’s really sweet of you but it’s alright, I can take the daggers I get from them,” he chuckles. “After all, what I did was pretty awful.”
“You were sixteen,” you say, patting on the last of your moisturiser.
He shrugs. “I know, but she’s their little princess.” He looks across at you and then glances at your parents. “It’s like someone doing that to you, your parents would be mad.”
At that, your father hums in agreement.
“Heck, I’d be mad,” Jungkook adds.
Looking at him, he shrugs again and smiles. Before you can say anything, he carries on. “Sixteen or not, I literally left Sophia on one of the most important nights of her life.”
“Yeah, it was pretty awful at the time,” you sigh, remembering the night as clear as day.
Almost ten years ago now, the night of both yours and Sophia’s entry into society, the debutante ball. For you, the night was a bit of a blur with it being the first night Alex and you made things official in your relationship, sealing it with a first kiss and many more that evening. It was a magical and whimsical night, and although Alex and you didn’t last, your love for each other still remains as best friends and you couldn’t be happier for him getting married to his dream girl now.
For Sophia, the night went a little differently... She'd had a crush on Jungkook for a while since, being Alex’s younger sister, she’d seen him often with you. After he found out, he asked her to be her escort to the ball. She of course said yes and everything seemed to be going perfectly until the moment Jungkook was supposed to escort her down the stairs but he had completely disappeared. Sophia was left all alone and completely embarrassed, even after Alias, the ever caring older brother, stepped in and acted as her escort. Jungkook still hasn’t told you the reason he left so abruptly that night. All you remember is not being able to reach him the whole weekend, even when you tried going to his house he was never home. When you finally saw him, he told you he didn’t want to talk about it so you didn’t.
Of course, everyone else forgot about the incident and even Sophia forgave him after he apologised profusely and endlessly, but Mr and Mrs Cirillo were less forgiving for a while, but after many years it’s just become a joke between them. The fact that he’s invited on the cruise just shows it’s all in the past now.
However that doesn’t mean Mr and Mrs Cirillo ever pass up an opportunity to remind him of the past…
“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N, dear,” Mrs Cirillo says, bringing you in for a hug.
Mr Cirillo stands behind her, taking your hand as soon as his wife lets go. “How was the flight here?”
“It was good, I slept for most of it really.” Stepping away, you turn to look at Jungkook as he approaches them with a meek smile.
Mrs Cirillo smiles back, her words carrying a playful lilt. “There he is, the heartbreaker.”
Jungkook lowers his head at that and you can see his nose scrunching a little. “That’s me, unfortunately,” he says, stepping into Mrs Cirillo’s arms for a brief hug.
When he takes Mr Cirillo’s hand to shake, the older man shows the same playfulness as his wife. “Nice to see you again, Jungkook. My favourite and least favourite man on board.”
Jungkook chuckles and Mr Cirillo pulls him in for a hug. “Stay out of trouble, yes?”
“Of course,” Jungkook smiles, stepping away to stand next to you as your parents walk out onto the main deck.
Their eyes light up as the old friends all greet each other and you take Jungkook’s hand and slip away together before you get roped into a conversation.
“You alright?” you ask casually as you scan the people all on the deck.
“Good, thanks,” he responds with a gentle squeeze of your hand. He knows that you know how he finds it a little tedious sometimes every time Sophia’s parents mention the past, but he knows he messed up so he doesn’t ever complain about it. In a way, it annoys you when the Cirillo’s always mention it but you know it’s not your place to say anything, especially if Jungkook hasn’t said anything.
Looking around, you take in many of the familiar faces while scanning the crowds for Alex or one of his siblings. There’s no unfamiliar faces on this part of the deck, and seeing all the waiters walking around offering canapés and drinks, you realise the Cirillo’s must’ve rented out this part of the deck. The excited buzz amongst everyone extends to you as you turn to look out past the balcony towards the sea, stepping towards it and taking Jungkook with you.
Taking a deep breath of the fresh sea, enjoying the warmth glowing from the sun as a steady breeze blows. Exhaling, you turn around to Jungkook beaming.
It seems like he was already watching you, waiting as though he knows you’re gonna say something now. Seeing you smile, his corner of his lips turn too. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
“Very,” you nod, turning around to look out again, lowering the sunglasses from your head to stop from squinting.
“Y/N!” A familiar voice calls your name and you turn around, breaking into the biggest smile when you see Alex approaching, his arms outstretched. “Jungkook!”
You meet him halfway, excitedly skipping into his hug. He hugs you tight, releasing a sigh as he lets go and hugs Jungkook. “Gosh, it’s been so bloody long, I’ve missed you guys.”
“Missed you more, buddy,” Jungkook smiles, patting Alex’s back before he lets go. “Congrats on the wedding too, we’re well excited to be here for you.”
Alex laughs, flashing his perfect pearly smile. “Honestly, I’m happier to have you guys here. Half of the people here haven’t even spoken to me in years.” He glances around before adding, “you know how it is.”
“Mhm,” you nod, squeezing his arm. “You’ve got us though, we’re here for you every step of the way.”
“Thanks,” he responds, taking two drinks from a passing waiter to give to you both. “You were allowed plus ones though, when do I get to meet them?” He looks across at both of you expectantly, though you see a subtle raise of his brow matched with a small smile that seems to hint he already knows the answer.
“Well, we didn’t really get the chance to ask anyone,” Jungkook answers, looking sideways at you. “So we just thought we’d come with each other.”
“Ah.” The smile on Alex’s lips grows. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Because you know how busy we’ve both been,” you say, shrugging lightly before taking a long sip of your drink.
“Hm, that’s it,” Alex says quietly.
“BOO!” Large hands tap your shoulders before the man himself jumps in front of you.
“Alias,” you squeal excitedly, returning the hug he’s already given you. Slightly more wild albeit still as focused as his younger brother, Alias is the eldest of the Cirillo siblings and has become more of an older brother to you over the years.
“You look like you’ve grown,” he says, moving back and beaming as he pulls Jungkook in for a hug. “Both of you.”
“We literally saw you like a month ago,” Jungkook chuckles.
“Really?” Alias raises his brows in surprise. “Damn, you kids grow fast.”
“I could say the same thing about that moustache of yours,” you say.
He smiles smugly. “Looks good right?”
Shrugging, you lean against the balcony. “I think you looked better without it.”
Alias frowns, hand coming up to stroke his moustache subconsciously. “Really?” he asks, looking at you in time to see you raising your glass to your lips to hide your smile.
“I knew you liked it,” he laughs. “Apparently a lot of people do.”
“Ah, Alias, no one wants to know,” Alex grimaces at his older brother.
Before Alias can defend himself, Jungkook says, “I do.” Alex and you both look at him and he shrugs. “Might grow mine out.”
Alias laughs, throwing his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “C’mon buddy, I’ll tell you all about it.”
As Alias pulls him away, Alex steps to stand next to you and both of you watch them walk away with Alias talking in a hushed tone as though no one else can find out.
As you watch them walk away with a fond smile on your face, Alex turns to you. “So, how have you been?”
Still absentmindedly watching Jungkook and Alias, you hum. “Great.”
“How’s work?”
“Mm, I actually just secured a deal with Park Motors last week.”
Glancing at Alex, you see his brows raise. “Impressive.”
“Yeah, it was a pretty big win for the company and dad was proud of me.”
Alex smiles. “And were you proud of yourself?”
As Jungkook’s head disappears from the crowd, you turn to face Alex too, taking another sip of your drink. “I know people think I’m just riding off my parent’s success, which yeah, it’s true for the most part, but after doing this all myself I was pretty proud.”
“Good,” he grins. “You should be. You may be one of the most princess-ed girls I know,” he adds with a teasing lilt, “but you’re also one of the most hard working.”
Laughing, you nudge him lightly. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” He leans against the balcony too, pulling down his shades as he turns towards the sea where the sun shines down on the horizon. “What about things with Jungkook?”
Shrugging, you take a small sip. “He’s good.”
Alex glances at you from the corner of his eye with the curve of his lips growing. “Hm, anything else?”
Levelling his face, you break into a smile. “Oh, Alex, you’re never gonna let this go are you?”
He smiles, shaking his head. “Not as long as I see it’s there.”
Straightening your expression a little, you tilt your head. “But there’s nothing there.”
“Y/N, there’s everything there,” he says, matching your tone.
“Alex, come on,” you say quietly, traces of a smile returning.
He shrugs. “I make a perfectly valid point.”
Turning towards the deck again, you sigh. “I don’t see it.”
“I do!” Alex almost exclaims excitedly. “And I have for the longest time.” Letting out a small laugh, he puts his arm around you and squeezes gently. “His big doe eyes used to torture me all the time when I was dating you.”
You can’t help but laugh at that. Jungkook does have doe eyes but you don’t remember seeing them often while dating Alex.
“Seriously,” Alex says, fighting his case onwards. “I dated you for what, almost a year I think and I’ve never seen anyone sulk for that long.”
“He wasn’t sulking.”
“Listen, I’m almost a married man now, Y/N, and I can tell you all the looks of love…”
When you arch a brow quizzically, Alex sighs and continues. “That boy was sulking for weeks because he hated seeing you with someone else.”
“Oh come on, maybe he had a crush in the past but he’s a grown man now and has had plenty of his own romances.”
Now it’s Alex who’s looking at you with his brow raised. “Like who?”
It takes you a moment to think of a name but a few still come to mind. “Remember Alia, the intern from my dad's company?” you ask rather smugly, although Alex’s reaction shows no surprise.
“The girl who he went out with like five times.”
You shrug. “That counts for something.
“It really doesn’t,” Alex says matter-of-factly. “Anyway, who else?”
“Hmmm… ooh, Rachel, that super hot secretary!”
“Y/N, that was a one night stand, it literally doesn’t count.”
Sighing, you rack your memory for more, and then comes the answer. “Valentina.”
Alex almost snorts, prompting you to frown at him.
“What?” you question. “That was a real romance, there were feelings there.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alex almost snorts again. “The most real thing about that relationship was the Chopard watch Valentina tried to use to bribe Jungkook back to her.”
Wincing, you remember the finer details of that supposedly real romance. You turn back out to face the horizon, pulling your own shades down. “Alright, I guess I see your point.”
Gently pushing his point, Alex carries on. “Not to mention that I was your last serious relationship, which was how many years ago now?”
You simply shrug. “I’m not looking for anyone.”
Alex hums thoughtfully. “Or you’ve already ‘found’ your someone.” This earns a glare from you but Alex ignores this. “He’s practically your boyfriend already!”
“In what way?!”
“You do almost everything together!” Alex exclaims back. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had sex already!”
“Alex!” Something in your stomach curls unbidden at the thought. “We haven’t had sex!” you whisper hotly, glancing around to make sure no one heard.
“Sorry,” Alex mumbles, looking over his shoulder too. Luckily there’s no one nearby, everyone seems too busy engaging in their own excited conversations about the weeks to come.
Everything you’re hearing now isn’t news to you, you know plenty of people have questioned the relationship between Jungkook and you, and you totally get why, but you’ve been friends since such a young age and that’s perfectly okay. Neither you nor Jungkook have made a move to take things further and maybe that’s just how things are meant to stay, despite what Alex seems to think.
“Also, what friend agrees to come on a 3 week long cruise for you, knowing full well my father doesn’t miss a single opportunity to roast him.”
“Here’s here for you, not me.”
“Actually,” Alex raises a finger, “I invited him before you and he said he would meet us in Italy because things were busy with the company. I invited you after him, and the next thing I know is Jungkook is calling me telling me he’ll be coming with you from the start.”
As your eyes narrow, you start to think of how that happened. After Alex invited you, you texted Jungkook straight away to ask if he’d come with you as a date to the wedding. As soon as he said yes, you started waffling on about how fun the trip was going to be and it must’ve been after that that Jungkook told Alex he’d come sooner than he previously planned.
“Well, any best friend would do that,” you say simply.
Alex pushes his lips out, brows raised. “I’m your best friend and I wouldn’t do that for you.”
“Hey!” You shove him hard but he barely moves.
“Oh c’mon, you wouldn’t do it for me either.” Alex looks at you with a smile.
“Yeah,” you relent. “I probably wouldn’t unless you really needed me.”
Just then, you see Jungkook walking towards you, holding a platter of something. He simply beams when you frown at him in confusion.
From beside you, Alex raises his glass to his lips. “I’m telling you, the boy is whipped,” he says quietly before taking a sip.
Jungkook comes within ears width before you can say anything. “Y/N, look,” he holds out the tray he’s holding, “they have those little cracker things you like with capa, uh, capa-something.” He pushes it closer, gesturing for you to take one while looking pleased with himself.
Looking at the platter, your lips curl mindlessly into a smile. “Caponata,” you say, correcting him gently.
It’s when Jungkook remembers the little things like this that his place in your heart grows and you’re grateful for having him as your best friend.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” he smiles. “Here, I got them for you.”
Your brows furrow together as you look down. “The whole platter?”
“Well, yeah,” he says looking down too. “You like them and I’m sure there’s more going around for everyone else.”
From beside you, Alex starts coughing and you’re more than certain you hear the word “whipped” coming out of his mouth. One glance at him proves you’re right as he raises his brows before looking away.
Jungkook, not having noticed the word Alex let slip, is eating one of the canapés before holding one out for you too. Smiling and thanking him, you take it.
“Good right?” Jungkook asks, his mouth full as you also eat one whole.
“So good,” you mumble, brows furrowed as you keep eating.
Jungkook holds the tray towards Alex. “Want one?”
“I’m good,” he smiles. “I’ll leave you two to it though, I’ve still got some guests I need to greet.” His smile seems weary though you don’t blame him, sometimes the supposed family friends in your circle don’t seem very much like friends. After saying a temporary goodbye, he takes his leave, leaving Jungkook and you to continue devouring the canapés.
For a moment, you’re both quiet, save the sounds of pleasure from eating, then Jungkook speaks. “Sophia’s not coming with us by the way.”
Eyes wide, you turn to look at him. “What?!” you question, mouth half full.
Jungkook takes one glance at you and chuckles. His thumb comes up and wipes something close to your lips. “She’s joining us later, from Nice.”
“Oh.” Your lips turn into a pout. “Who am I gonna hang out with?”
“You-bo-me,” Jungkook says with his mouthful again.
“No,” you sigh. “I don’t got you. As soon as Alias is about, you and him turn into Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”
A small laugh escapes Jungkook's lips and you frown at him.
“I’m sorry,” he laughs again, placing the mostly empty tray down on a nearby table. “Look,” he takes your hands and squeezes them, “I promise I’ll stay with you, we can just hang out with Alias too.”
“Yeah, I know,” you say looking up at him. “It’s fine though, you can hang out with whoever you want. You don’t have to stay with me.”
Jungkook hides an amused smile. “I’ll stay with you, we can’t have our princess being alone,” he chuckles again, letting go of your hands to squeeze your cheeks.
“Mm, my makeup,” you mumble, prying his fingers off your cheeks. “And you can stay with me if you really want to,” you shrug, hiding your smug expression.
Jungkook scoffs, laughing as you put your sunglasses back on. “I changed my mind.”
“Hey!” you exclaim, and before you get another word out, Jungkook is laughing, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in.
“I’m joking, now let’s go say hi to the Morgan’s, they’ve been looking this way since Alex was here.”
“They’re probably just judging us,” you grumble.
Jungkook smiles, turning you around and walking with you. “More reason to say hello.”
Most of the first day is spent the same way, greeting some families who you like and some who you don’t but at least you get to do it with a glass of champagne and Jungkook by your side. By the early evening, everyone is settling into their cabins and exploring the cruise ship which feels more like a palace.
It’s well past midnight when Jungkook is walking you to your cabin which unfortunately is on another level to yours – Alex mentioned he couldn’t get your cabins closer since Jungkook was supposed to be joining later.
“I am so ready to knockout,” you yawn, pulling out the keycard.
“Make sure you don’t forget to take your makeup off,” Jungkook says as a gentle reminder.
Turning around at the threshold of your door, you look at him as he leans against the wall opposite. “I won’t, and you don’t forget to shower, you still stink of chlorine.”
Jungkook chuckles quietly, careful not to disturb any of the neighbouring cabins who are most likely asleep. Alias and him decided it would be fun to cannonball into the deck pool during prohibited hours and subsequently ended up running away from some of the cruise crew and you just happened to be with them even though you refused to jump in because it’s breaking the rules.
“I’m making you join us next time,” he says.
“That’s never gonna happen.”
Smiling slightly, Jungkook tilts his head. “That sounds like a challenge.”
Laughing, you step out of your room towards him. “I wouldn’t try, Jeon.” Raising your hand, you pinch his nose. “You’ll just fail.”
“Or,” Jungkook raises his brows, taking your hand into his, “it could be one of the best nights you spend here, plus running away is fun,” he grins.
“You call that fun?” you laugh.
“Tell me it wasn't.”
You shrug. “I have fun whenever I'm with you anyway.”
Jungkook smiles, and so do you. It’s not hard to be honest around him, it never has been. That’s probably why you’ve been best friends for so long. “So all the time?” he says.
“All the time,” you repeat, laughing.
Lips still holding a gentle smile, Jungkook looks down at you and for a second you wait for him to say something but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he releases a small sigh and pulls you into a hug.
You feel your body relax in his embrace, the weariness of today’s jet lag and socialising and cheeky antics slowly melting away as you breathe in the comforting smell of his cologne. Even though it’s tainted with chlorine, his arms around you seem to make it worth putting up with.
His hands slide up your back, patting you softly. “I’ll see you in the morning, hm.”
“Just don’t wake me up before noon,” you mumble.
He laughs, pulling away. “Breakfast ends at 11.”
Groaning, you step towards your door again. “I wish Freddie was with us.”
Chuckling quietly, he starts to make his way towards his cabin. “Good night, Y/N.”
“Night,” you wave, seeing him disappear from view as the door closes. You almost collapse onto your bed but manage to trudge to the bathroom to wash off your makeup and get into your pyjamas before finally sinking into bed and falling asleep.
Knock knock knock
Knock knock.
“Y/N?"
Knock knock knock. “Y/N!”
Grumbling, you pull your pillow over your head.
There’s a few more impatient knocks before you hear Jungkook. “Come on, or I’m going down without you.”
“Go,” you groan, tossing in bed. “I’ll eat later.”
Then you hear a series of whining outside the door. “It's already almost 11, it's embarrassing going by myself you have to come with me, please.”
With one final groan, you force yourself out of bed and open the door. “I said not before noon, Koo.”
“Please,” he says, lips forming an effortless pout. “I’m hungry.”
Well you can’t say no now. Sighing, you step aside for him to come in. “Give me twenty minutes.”
Jungkook slumps onto your bed, already dressed casually in a white tee and black shorts. “You have ten.”
With Jungkook rushing you, you meet halfway and manage to get ready in 15 minutes instead. It seems the Cirillo’s spared no expense and managed to keep an entire upper deck private for all of the meals served on sea days. There’s a breakfast buffet laid out inside but before you can even grab yourself a plate, you see your mom frowning at you from her seat outside. She raises her brows and points to her wrist, her not so subtle way of reminding you you’re late.
With a big smile, you mouth sorry and she just laughs to herself, shaking her head.
“Y/N,” Jungkook calls your name. You look over at him and he’s already standing behind a few people up for seconds, waiting his turn. Walking over, you take a plate and glance down at the table ahead of you.
“This looks good,” you think out loud.
“It does, doesn’t it?” Jungkook says, glancing around. He frowns at something, moving his head to get a better look.
“What? What’s wro–?”
His eyes widen and suddenly he’s crouching enough to remove the inches difference between you, hands gripping your arms. “Hide me.”
“What?”
“Hide me,” he repeats, the insistence in his voice clearer than before.
Putting your plate down, you push his shoulders lower. “I am,” you whisper harshly. “But why?” you say, glancing around.
“No, don’t look,” Jungkook says, his tone becoming something like a whine. “She’ll come over if she sees you.”
“Who?”
Jungkook groans, eyes closing. “Why is she here?”
Ignoring his request not to look, you turn around and scan the room, looking for any familiar faces while your mind goes through a mental list of names of people who could make Jungkook want to hide before a whole breakfast buffet. Just as your name arrives at a potential suspect, the woman herself comes into your view.
“Oh.”
Tall, glamorous and even graceful, Valentina Forero struts her preppy, perfect figure, dressed head to toe in designer and a handbag so small you’re sure not even her phone can fit in there.
Immediately, you look away from her and down at Jungkook. He’s already looking up at you with a weary expression. Your lips form an apologetic smile and he sighs, a string of curse words coming out from his mouth in the form of a hushed whisper while he stays pressed against your side trying to hide himself from view.
Of all the things that could possibly go wrong, this has to be the single worst thing.
Valentina is Jungkook’s ex friend with benefits of almost a year. They met shortly after college at your grad party and they started off as casual and eventually there were some feelings involved but they never really bloomed.
When Jungkook tried to end things after some months, Valentina had a lot to say and for some reason just didn’t want to let him go even though she wasn’t looking for something real.
You don’t blame her, Jungkook attracts people like a magnet, but their relationship was a little more on the toxic side with some jealousy and so many stupid arguments no doubt stemming from the feelings that budded but never grew. It was better for both of them to call it quits, so they never made things official but to call Valentina anything less than an ex would be an injustice to some of the things they went through.
Stealing a glance at her again, you watch for a few seconds as she makes her way through the families, greeting each one with a bright smile.
As she moves, Jungkook moves too, trying to stay hidden from her view behind you. His head presses against your arm, cheek almost against your left boob.
“Um, Jungkook,” you say, smiling. “I get you’re trying to hide but uh, I don’t think this is a good look…”
“What?” he says, still distracted as he glances towards where Valentina is.
“We’re standing at a breakfast bar on a family cruise and your face is pretty close to my boobs.”
He looks up at you, eyes widening when he realises. “Oh, sorry.” He stands straight, turning to face the bar instead.
“It’s cool,” you answer, picking up your plate again and nudging him to move forward. “”I’m sure we’ve given the Collins something to talk about for today.” Turning to your right at the eyes ogling you, you smile plastically at Mr and Mrs Collins.
“Sorry,” Jungkook mutters again absentmindedly as he slowly fills his plate.
“Jungkook,” you say, nudging him again as you fill your own. “It’s gonna be fine, there’s so many people here I’m sure you won’t see each other that much, and even if you do, you have me.” You’re already beaming when he looks at you, and his own eyes crease in the corners and he smiles too. “Thanks. I guess you’re right but please don’t ever let me be alone with her.”
“I won’t,” you laugh. “Although once she knows you’re here, I’m sure she’ll try to hookup with you at least once.”
“I hope not,” Jungkook sighs. “She’s not a bad girl but I just don’t wanna go back there, y’know?”
“Mhm, I know,” you say, turning towards the table your parents are seated at. “But what I don’t know is how we’re gonna get to sit without her seeing you.” You nod in the direction of your parents.
Jungkook glances around. “Let’s go sit with Alex and Thalia,” he says, nodding in the opposite direction.
Stealthily, the two of you make your way out onto the deck and approach Alex and his fiancee unseen.
“Oh, Y/N,” Thalia beams, leaning in for a hug as soon as she sees you. “You look beautiful.”
You snort. “I woke up half an hour ago, I definitely look awful.”
“Absolutely not,’ Thalia says with a gracious wave of her hand before Jungkook gets up to greet her too. “You both look lovely and I'm so happy you’re here!”
“Of course,” you say, smiling at both her and Alex. “We’re even happier to be here and so excited for you.”
“Thank you, angel,” she winks.
“Jungkook, are you okay?” Alex asks quietly, frowning as he watches Jungkook carefully. Glancing to your right, you also notice Jungkook is hunched over his food.
“You’re just drawing more attention to yourself like that,” you let him know before turning back to Alex. “Valentina is here,” you say with a small raise of your brow and both Alex and Thalia immediately let out a little “ah”.
Thalia winces apologetically when she glances back at Jungkook. “I do believe that may be on me. My mother is in the same club as her mother so it seems an invitation was deemed non-negotiable, unfortunately,” she adds, placing subtle emphasis on the last word.
Jungkook shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, I was gonna end up seeing her again eventually at some point.”
Alex coughs, his expression changing. “I do believe that time is coming sooner than you want though.”
Jungkook frowns but you understand what Alex means, as does Thalia as you both look up just in time to see Valentina a few feet away, approaching your table.
With a smile that’s far too innocent for her, she stands at the edge of the table closest to Jungkook. “Well, hello there.”
Alex, being the sweetheart he is, is the first to respond to her greeting, and without surprise, Thalia follows quickly. “Thank you for coming,” Alex says as he gives her a quick hug.
“Thank you for having me.” Valentina steps to the side to greet Thalia too. “And congratulations, I’m so happy for both of you!”
“Thank you,” Thalia says with a genuine smile. As she takes her seat, you get up to greet her too.
“It’s nice to see you again, Val,” you say as you meet her in a brief hug, although you can’t say you mean it but you hold no animosity towards her.
“You too, Y/N,” she winks.
Before she even releases you, Jungkook is getting up and already avoiding eye contact with her. “Hey,” he says, just as she leans towards him too.
“Hello, Jungkook.” When she gives him a hug, it’s a little longer than your own but Jungkook doesn’t push away despite his expression looking like he wants to.
Alex, Thalia and you have to fight to keep your smiles contained.
“Gosh, it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” Valentina says as she steps back and takes a seat.
“I guess,” Jungkook says, showing little expression as he sits back down and resumes eating his breakfast.
“Oh, come on, it’s been almost two years.” She gives him a knowing expression before flicking her hair behind her shoulder with a flamboyant flair that’s signature for Valentina. “I’m sure you missed me.” She leans her elbows on the table. “I know I’ve missed you.”
Seeing Jungkook’s constipated expression, you step in to help him out. “We all missed you, Valentina,” you smile. “It’s impossible not to.” That’s not a lie either, although she was a big personality to deal with sometimes, she still knew how to have fun and was great to talk to.
“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, returning your smile before turning her attention back to Jungkook. “You still look as good as you always have too, Kookie.” She leans forward and squeezes his bicep, maybe one too many times. “You’re still going to the gym I see.”
Jungkook stiffens next to you, meanwhile, your eyes are fixated on her hand on his arm. In a gesture of support, you discreetly slip your hand behind his elbow.
Sitting across from you, your friends both notice this. Then, the cogs in the brilliant mind of Alexander Cirillo turn and he comes up with what can only be a genius idea. Perhaps it's all the romance he’s been experiencing recently with his own fiancee, but Alex is convinced that this can only have one outcome, the only possible outcome – the one that’s been written in the stars since Jungkook and you met so many years ago, he’s sure of it.
Beaming, Alex looks at Valentina. “Don’t they look so good together?”
She pauses then frowns. “Together?”
Your own expression matches Valentina’s as you glance at Alex too.
“Yes, together,” he repeats as a fact, smiling at Jungkook and you before looking at Valentina.
“You’ve heard, no? Jungkook and Y/N are together.”
From next to you, Jungkook swallows hard and your hand subconsciously tightens around his arm. Both of you are staring at Alex and he just gives you a subtle raise of his brow.
“Oh, my,” Valentina smiles, and although there’s some kind of genuinity to it, there’s more you can see but haven’t got the mental capacity to try to decipher right now when you’re still trying to figure out what Alex is doing.
“I should’ve known this was gonna happen, you always were inseparable,” she says with somewhat of an eye roll.
Jungkook laughs awkwardly, but he’s not stupid and he knows Alex isn’t either. This is one surefire way he can keep Valentina and any of her advances away from him for the next three weeks. All he has to do is pretend to be dating you… how hard can that be?
“Yeah, I guess it was meant to be,” he says, sounding a little stilted.
You’re still sitting a little dumbfounded but Thalia also gives you an expression that tells you to improvise better. The most you can manage is a meek smile.
Jungkook responds almost as awkwardly, putting his arm around you which makes Alex laugh.
“Oh, don’t be so coy,” he says, sneaking in a wink to you as Valentina’s eyes remain locked on you both. “It’s been almost what? Eight months?”
“Uh, yeah, almost,” you answer, suddenly feeling shy with the way Jungkook’s hand is gripping your waist.
It’s not like he’s never had his hand on your waist before — his face was all up in your boobs only fifteen minutes ago — but the feeling remains. It makes your cheeks go warm, your heart races a little faster and your fingers go fuzzy.
You’re sure it’s showing on your face but Valentina doesn’t seem to notice, or if she does, she must think it’s down to you finding this awkward.
“Well, congratulations to you too then,” she says, wearing a smile that doesn’t actually seem anything less than genuine, but you’re aware there’s more to her words.
“Thank you,” Jungkook and you say in unison.
Valentina nods, taking it as her cue to leave. “I’ll see you all around, and except for the engaged couple who get a pass, let’s keep the pda to a minimum please,” she adds airily, words directed to Jungkook and you as she saunters off.
“Can’t promise anything with these two,” Alex calls out after her.
When he looks back at you, he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Thalia purses her lips in a smile that resembles a child trying not to laugh while they’re getting told off.
Turning to them, you burst. “What the hell was that?” you say hotly, seeming more flustered than anything else.
Alex shrugs. “Sorry, it was the best thing I could think of.”
“It could be worse,” Thalia adds with a smile that’s supposed to be apologetic but the gleam in her eyes tells you she’s finding this just as amusing as her fiancé.
Then, Jungkook shifts from beside you and only now do you realise you’re still holding his arm. “Well,” he says, briefly glancing down as you let go, “I guess we’re dating now.”
With a small raise of your brows, you shrug lightly and try not to show any signs of how flustered you’re feeling. “I guess so.”
When you meet his gaze, for a second you go still and think of what it means, how might you be expected to act with Jungkook — but really, it doesn’t seem that much different from how you already are now. Except of course, if you ever had to indulge in any public displays of affection, cheek kisses, lingering hugs, maybe even a peck on the lips…
The thought of it all sets loose a swirl of butterflies in your stomach and only then do you realise that your gaze is still locked on Jungkook, and he too, is still staring at you.
With those butterflies still swarming, you abruptly break away from his gaze and notice the tips of his ears are turning pink. You wonder if he’s thinking the same as you right now.
“See, already believable.”
Alex’s voice interrupts your thoughts and when you turn to flare at him, he’s got a smug smirk on his face.
“You’re supposed to be smart,” you say with a sigh, pushing down the butterflies that it almost seems like Alex knows all about. “Couldn’t have come up with something smarter?”
“This is smart,” Alex says with a hint of sass.
“How?” you sass back.
Leaning back, he puts his arm around Thalia as his smirk grows into a smile. “You’ll see, just give it some time,” he sighs, punctuating his sentence with a wink.
The end of the first night in Cartagena is celebrated with a formal dinner at a private venue with the most beautiful view of the coast.
The Cirillo’s had a special menu created of authentic foods from the town and the dishes were nothing less than exquisite. So much so that Alias and you are both slumped on a hammock on the balcony with bellies full and happy. A few of the guests walk past and side eye you both, probably because Alias has ungraciously undone the top button of his suit pants but it doesn’t bother either of you.
“Probably shouldn’t have eaten so much,” you mumble, looking up at the night sky.
“We’ve still got dessert,” Alias sighs, patting his belly.
“Well sitting there isn’t going to help,” Jungkook’s voice says from behind you.
Turning your head, you smile when you see Jungkook with two dessert plates in his hand. He comes and sits next to you, handing one to each of you.
Alias still manages to devour his serving in silence, but you take a little longer to eat, wondering if Valentina might be somewhere near now that Jungkook is here; you’re certain she’ll be keeping a closer eye on you both so you ought to be making a conscious effort to act more like a couple but you’re not really sure what else to do. Jungkook bringing you dessert seems couple-ish enough, even though it’s what you would do on a usual night anyway.
The three of you fall into a comfortable silence and you give Alias the rest of your dessert to finish as you collapse into the hammock again. As you do so, you feel Jungkook’s hand brush against yours and immediately you glance down at your hands, noticing how your arms and thighs are touching too. Again, it’s nothing unusual for you, but you start to wonder why it feels a little different now you’ve noticed it.
“Don’t look now,” he says, voice barely a murmur, “but she’s watching us.”
When you hum quietly in acknowledgement, his fingers brush the back of yours tentatively again and for some reason unrelated to the wind that’s blowing, you feel your skin prickling. Releasing a small breath, Jungkook curls his hand, fingers slipping between yours. The pads of your fingers press against him and you return your focus to the night sky above rather than the weird way your heart is beating now.
From your other side, Alias lets out a satisfied sigh before sitting back beside you. “So,” he says without missing a beat, “what’s up between you guys?”
“Hm?” You look at him with a small frown.
“You heard me,” he repeats with the signature boyish grin that he and his brother share. It’s enough to let you know that he knows.
“We’re, uh, together,” Jungkook answers.
Alias snorts. “You gotta sound more convincing than that, Jungkook.”
“I’d like to see you pretend to date someone,” you say, nudging his side.
Shifting to face you, Alias raises a brow. “That’s easy, watch and learn, lover boy.” He leans closer, arm moving across your chest to touch some hair behind your ears.
You get his point – Alias is close enough to lean in and kiss you if he wanted to, and the small action seems intimate enough since you’re almost laying down with him beside you.
His hand gently traces down your cheek and you giggle, finding it funny as he keeps glancing at Jungkook who shoves him back before he goes any further.
“Alright, I get it,” Jungkook says, somehow shifting even closer to you.
When you glance at him, you can’t help but giggle at his expression. He looks a little annoyed, and although you don’t think it, anyone else might think he’s crossed the fine line to jealous — Alias certainly does.
“Alright, I know, hands off your girlfriend,” he says, raising his hands in surrender.
Rolling his eyes, Jungkook mutters, “Yeah, whatever.”
Alias just chuckles, leaning back and resting his palm behind his head but unlucky for him, his moment of rest is short lived.
“Oh for goodness sake Alias!” The hushed whisper of Mrs Cirillo has all of your heads turning. She appears out of nowhere beside the hammock, a look of shock and horror on her face. “Is there a reason you’re basking in the sunset with your trousers half undone?”
“Actually,” Alias says unbothered, holding up a finger, “only the zipper is undone, so by the length of the trousers, mother, they’re nowhere near half undone.”
Frustrated, she glances around. “People must be thinking all sorts.” She looks at Jungkook and you who smile awkwardly, sitting up straight as you hope not to get scolded.
Mrs Cirillo is no stranger when it comes to teaching etiquette and given the many years of friendship between your families, she’s definitely not a stranger to teaching you a few things, and over the years, Jungkook too.
She sighs when she looks at you. “Darling, you look beautiful. Jungkook, you too, please teach my son a thing or two.” She sighs again impatiently and Alias grumbles next to you as he does up his zipper. “Now, when you’ve made yourself decent, please come with me, your father wants you to meet someone,” she says, not waiting for a response.
Alias groans. “Who? I thought I had met them all.”
“Not this one,” Mrs Cirillo replies airily as she’s still walking away. “He’s just joined us tonight.”
Like the dutiful son he is, Alias gets up and follows his mother, though not without groaning about it some more.
Jungkook and you watch him go, but just like Alias, your moment of rest is short lived.
“Um, Y/N…” Jungkook’s voice sounds apprehensive and when you look at him, his expression seems the same. He’s stretching his neck and looking out towards the opposite direction of the balcony towards the main hall. “Is that… Valentina, with your parents?”
Standing up to get a better look, you realise that Jungkook is right. Valentina is mid-way greeting your parents, your mom leaning in to give her a hug.
Looking down at Jungkook, you both realise at the same time – your parents don’t know about the two of you.
Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say anything and instead – with zero regard for the high heels on your feet – he grabs your hand and rushes you towards them.
“Ow, wait, Jungkook, slow down!”
“Can’t,” he says, although you feel his pace slow down a little. “She’s gonna say something, of course she is.”
Jungkook isn’t wrong and the look on your parents face as you’re less than a few feet away from them tells you that Valentina has just said it. Your dad looks confused and your mom is frowning, her head tilting in the way it does when she’s not sure she believes something.
“Mom!”
She turns her head to the sound of your voice, as does Valentina and your father.
“Dad,” you smile, catching your breath as Jungkook and you stop in front of them.
Jungkook chuckles awkwardly next to you and you feel his hand go around your waist. “Sorry to, uh, interrupt…” he purposely avoids Valentina’s gaze. “We just, uh,” he glances at you, “we had a question.”
“Well, so do we,” your dad starts, looking at you with the same confused expression. “What—”
“The dresses for the couple dance!” you blurt, knowing exactly what your father was about to ask. It would totally blow your cover if it seemed like your parents didn’t know about Jungkook so you need to come up with something fast. “We need to know the colours of the dresses for the couple’s dance, for the wedding.”
If your dad looked confused before, he looks almost dumbfounded now. “A couple’s dance?”
“Y/N, what couple dance?” your mom asks somewhat impatiently and you’re certain she wants to ask the same question your dad was about to, which is most likely about Jungkook and you.
“The one for the wedding,” Jungkook answers for you. “All the couples are doing a dance after Alex and Thalia, you know? At the wedding.” He squeezes your waist gently and you chuckle.
“Exactly,” you say, taking your mom's hand discreetly. “Since Jungkook and I are dancing together, well, he needs to know the colour of my dress and I’ve forgotten.” You say it with no hesitation but with the way you’re squeezing her hand repeatedly, your mom still seems confused.
She glances at Valentina who is now staring at Jungkook’s hand right around your waist, before glancing back at you.
Taking advantage of Valentina’s momentary lapse in attention, you give her a subtle raise of your brow and hope that mother-daughter telepathy is a real thing.
“A couple’s dance?” your father asks again. “Honey, I didn’t know about this,” he says to your mom.
“Well, yes, I suppose I forgot to tell you,” she says, squeezing your hand back and you let out a grateful sigh of relief, as does Jungkook.
“Y/N, your dress is periwinkle blue for the party,” she says to you before looking at Jungkook. You can see the apprehension in her expression though it’s only noticeable to you. “Jungkook, sweetheart, I’ll make sure your suit is matching with Y/N’s of course.”
“Thank you,” he nods, lips pursed.
Together, you glance at Valentina who already seems bored.
“Well, I’ll come find you later, Mrs L/N,” she says, already turning to step away.
Your mom says a quick goodbye before Jungkook and you are left alone with her and your dad.
“Is there a reason I didn’t know about this couple's dance?”
Letting out a small laugh, Jungkook pats your dad's shoulder. “Sorry, we made that up, there isn’t a couple’s dance.“
“There isn’t?”
“No, there isn’t,” your mom answers, her brow raises as she looks between Jungkook and you. “But what I would like to know is why we just had to lie and why on earth is Valentina congratulating your father and I about you two and your relationship?”
“It’s because of me,” Jungkook answers immediately which prompts a look of surprise from your parents. “I just wanted an easy way to keep away from Valentina and saying I’m with Y/N was the best way for me to do it.” He lowers his head looking a bit ashamed.
“Well it was actually Alex who said it first,” you say, stepping forward. “He pretty much roped us into it with Valentina right there, we were clueless.” You take Jungkook’s arm and smile at your parents. “It’s just a little white lie and honestly as long as Jungkook and I are okay with it, then it’s harmless.”
“And you are okay with it?” your dad asks.
“Sure.”
Your mother frowns, the apprehension still not having left her expression. “And Jungkook… you’re okay with it too?”
Jungkook nods. “Very okay with it.”
“Alright then, but just be wary.” Your mom glances between you both. She opens her mouth as if to say more but shakes her head instead. “Who else knows?”
“Alex, Thalia, Alias, and now you both.”
“Hm, if you want to keep it a secret then I would keep it to that. The more people who know the more likely it is to come out.”
“Yes, I agree,” your dad says, frowning as he thinks. “Although I do think it would make sense to tell Leon and Helena.”
Your mom agrees with him. “I suppose it does but it’s up to you both.”
“Are you sure?” you ask, brows raising. It’s not unusual for your parents to share something with the Cirillo’s, but when it’s something like this, a lie, you don’t imagine your parents telling them.
Jungkook shuffles awkwardly. “Uh, they’re coming over now.”
Your mom looks up, smiling as they come over. “Yes, Y/N, after all it’s not really such a big lie. Jungkook and you do everything together anyway, how much more different can this be?”
“Right,” you nod, confused by the sentiment those words make you feel — perhaps Alex isn’t so wrong, maybe you do do everything with Jungkook. It must be giving the wrong idea to people…
Though that doesn’t matter now since you need to seem like you’re dating him.
“Just who I was looking for,” Mrs Cirillo beams as she approaches, but instead of looking at your mom, she’s looking at you.
“Me?” you ask, surprised.
“Yes.” She looks at Jungkook too. “And you.”
Jungkook shares the same expression as you. “Me?”
“Oh, yes, and don’t act so shy either of you.” Her smile seems rather cheeky, as does Mr Cirillo’s who stands beside her. “What’s this I hear about you two dating now, hm?”
“Oh.” Smiling hesitantly, you prepare yourself to tell them the truth as well. This feels a bit different though because you can see the excitement in Mrs Cirillo’s face, even in Mr Cirillo.
“I mean it’s about time,” Mr Cirillo says with a deep chuckle, looking at your parents to agree.
Jungkook looks rather pained as he looks between them both. “Who told you?”
“Alias, of course,” Mrs Cirillo says. “He said you’ve been keeping it a secret for some time though I don’t see why, this is wonderful news!”
She waves her hand with the statement and with it, a part of you suddenly feels like you’re being let down by yourself. It’s odd to see them so happy for Jungkook and you, only for it not to be real.
You don’t blame them though — you’ve only been pretending to date Jungkook for a day but you’re already starting to see Alex’s point a little bit more. Having Jungkook by your side just feels right.
Come to think of it, if anyone else asked you to pretend to be their girlfriend for a few weeks, you’d definitely say no. It would be hard to act so close with someone not only emotionally but physically, whereas thinking of the way Jungkook was so close to your side just a little while ago on the hammock, fingers curled around yours, you feel yourself coil at even the thought of being with anyone else.
That’s not unusual though, right? The only reason you can’t imagine it with anyone else is because Jungkook is your best friend. He’s the guy you’re most comfortable around and so you feel safe with him. Thoughts pausing, your gaze drifts to him as you briefly zone out from whatever joke Mrs Cirillo is making.
Jungkook still looks on hesitantly and the way his bottom lip moves, you can tell he’s waiting to say something. As soon as he sees his chance and quickly gets a word in. “Oh, well, actually, Mrs Cirillo, it’s not really real.”
She looks towards him and frowns a little. “What do you mean?” There’s disappointment in her tone that you (for some unknown reason) can relate to.
“It’s more of a make believe relationship, if that’s one way to put it,” your dad answers albeit looking confused himself.
Mr Cirillo appears to be on the same brainwave as your dad as he looks confused too. “That’s absurd. I believe it very much.”
“Yes, yes,” Mrs Cirillo says, nodding. “Who wouldn’t?”
Pushing aside your own confused feelings, you help clear up this mess. “What we’re trying to say is that it’s not a real relationship.” You glance at Jungkook who looks at you and nods. “We’re just pretending to date.”
“Oh.” Their expressions fall, small frowns replacing the excitement in their eyes.
“Why would you do that?” Mr Cirillo asks.
“My ex is on the cruise,” Jungkook answers. “You probably remember her, Valentina?”
There’s a few seconds of quiet until Mr Cirillo finds the name familiar. “Ah, yes, tall girl, Forero if I’m not mistaken?”
Jungkook nods, lips pursed.
“So she’s the reason you’re doing this?” Mrs Cirillo gestures between Jungkook and you.
Jungkook nods again.
She sighs quietly. “Honestly, it all seems a bit fuddy duddy, Valentina is harmless. There’s better ways to keep someone away, Jungkook, wouldn’t it be better to just ask her to stay away from you?”
“That might come across as more rude than this,” you say with a shrug. “Also, we ought to mention that this was all Alex’s idea.”
“Alex?!” Mrs Cirillo exclaims. “Did he even ask you first?”
“Nope,” you shake your head with a smile having absolutely no qualms throwing your best friend under the bus.
“Oh, why didn’t you say so sooner?” Mrs Cirillo turns and reaches for her husband's hand. “Leon, I do believe that boy is getting almost as troublesome as his older brother.”
Mr Cirillo laughs. “Oh, it’s just a little fun, besides, having Jungkook and Y/N pretending to play house can’t be all that bad.” He turns to Jungkook and you and winks.
You return his cheek with a smile. “It’s actually easier than it looks.”
“I’m sure it is,” he quips with a quick raise of his brow. His smirk seems telling but you don’t think anything of it at the moment as you feel Jungkook’s hand on your arm.
“Just don’t tell anyone please,” he says, chuckling nervously.
“Of course not,” Mrs Cirillo says. “I think Alex may have been onto something anyway.” She glances towards your mom and they share a smile. “Let’s get something to drink, hm?”
Your mom laughs, taking her arm. “Yes, please, I need one.”
Together, they walk off and to you it looks like they’re high schoolers sharing secrets again — you’re sure they’re going to have lots to talk about again today.
Mr Cirillo chuckles as they go off. “Three guesses what they’re talking about,” he says quietly to your dad who shares a smile with his friend before they both turn to Jungkook and you.
“Well, I think I’m going to go and look for more dessert,” you say, slowly taking a step back to excuse yourself and Jungkook.
“Yeah, I’m gonna do that too,” Jungkook says, nodding his head at your dad and Mr Cirillo.
“Of course, I’ll see you later on,” your dad smiles. His eyes fall to where Jungkook’s hand is holding your arm and his smile grows just a little wider but before you can think anything of it, Mr Cirillo makes a comment.
“That’s a nice suit you’re wearing, Jungkook.” He nods, looking visibly impressed.
“Thanks.”
Mr Cirillo continues. “I remember when you would wear your suits from those high street stores with the cheap labels but look at you now, kid.”
Pausing in your slow retreat, you blink. You’ve known Mr Cirillo all your life so you know that the comment really holds no ill intent, and also bearing in mind the fact that you know just how much he has come to admire Jungkook and cares for him as much as he does for you, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for Mr Cirillo to make a comment like that.
Jungkook only smiles, though he doesn’t need to say anything for anyone to see that the backhanded compliment isn’t appreciated. He continues to step away but now you’re rooted firmly in the spot.
“Well with a personality like his and far more brains than most people combined, Jungkook has never needed material to make him look good, wouldn’t you agree, Mr Cirillo?” Your expression is friendly enough but your tone? Not so much.
He smiles awkwardly, immediately having understood his mistake. “Does that mean the opposite for myself?” he asks lightly.
“Oh, I’ve never thought so,” you say, smiling plastically. “Those words came from your own mouth.”
Mr Cirillo laughs. “You’re a sharp one, Y/N. That's why I like you a lot.”
“Likewise, Leon,” you wink, reaching for Jungkook’s arm. “Now we’ll be off.”
Mr Cirillo still chuckles and you catch your dad smiling at you as you walk away with Jungkook.
“Did you just call him ugly?” Jungkook asks with a small laugh once you're out of earshot.
“I didn’t call him anything,” you shrug.
He laughs again, coming to a stop with you near the dessert table where you both browse the selection. “You know I could’ve answered myself though,” he says after a moment.
Taking your pick, you turn to him with a small pout. It’s not the first time someone has made a comment about Jungkook that has annoyed you more than him, and you know that Jungkook prefers to pick and choose his battles wisely, unlike you always feeling as though you have to say something.
“I know, sorry,” you wince a little. “Force of habit.”
“It’s okay,” he smiles, taking a bowl of Eton mess.
Together, you start walking towards the same hammock you were previously sitting at.
“I actually think it’s kinda cute,” he adds.
Your brows raise inquisitively. “Having me as your knight in shining armour?”
He shrugs, taking a spoonful into his mouth as you both sit down. “More like my princess with her many privileges.” His lips curl into a smile as he says it.
Laughing, you lean back comfortably into the hammock. “Well, of course, Mr Cirillo wouldn’t dare say anything to me.”
“And no one else other than you would insult Mr Cirillo to his face.”
Holding up your fork, you laugh again. “I only implied, there’s a difference.”
Jungkook hums, leaning back next to you. He takes a big spoonful into his mouth, eating this slowly while you steal some of his. Swallowing, he sits up a little beside you. “You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Looking up at him, you frown. “Do what?”
“Pretend to date me.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to?”
He shrugs. “If it makes you uncomfortable, or even if you just don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind,” you say, sitting up with him.
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, watching your expression for any signs of a lie. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” you repeat.
With those words, Jungkook seems to relax. “Okay.” Faint traces of a smile appear on his face as he leans back.
“The soap here smells amazing,” Thalia says, bringing her hands to her nose to sniff again a few times after drying them.
Tossing your used hand towel in the hamper, you take a sniff too. “Mm, it does. I smell coconut.”
“And yuzu,” Thalia says, still inhaling the smell.
Laughing, you pull her hands away from her nose as you walk out of the washroom together.
The corridor is dimly lit as you walk back towards the restaurant but you’re very impressed by the interior, the burgundy and golden interior of this part of the venue complimenting each other well, especially with the many plants lining the corridors.
“Where’s Alex?” you ask.
“Somewhere around here,” Thalia answers. “Honestly I lost him an hour ago after he went to check out the golf course here.”
“There’s a golf course here?” you ask, surprised. Though really you don’t know why you’re surprised, walking to the bathroom was a mission on its own, this place is huge.
“Yeah they have everything, tennis courts, basketball, there’s even a riding school.”
At that, your ears perk up. “Are the horses available to hire?”
Thalia turns to you with a smile. “You wanna go for a canter?”
“Can we?” You ask, eyes lighting up too. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been riding.”
“We’ll have to ask but I’m sure my dad could sort something out for us. Although we have booked a resort for when we get to Barcelona and later on in Malta too. They’re renowned for their riding instructors.”
Laughing, you walk around the next corner together. “How have you booked resorts while we’re on a cruise? I bet Mrs Cirillo had something to do with it,” you add, knowing that she always has to have everything and the best of it for her kids.
Thalia nods with a smile. “My mom and yeah, Helena. They’ve been planning this for a year, of course there’s going to be something for everyone.”
“Strippers?” you ask, brows raising.
“Except that.”
“Hm, fair,” you say, frowning as you walk around another corner. “Anyway, I don’t really care for the instructors but it’ll have to be Barcelona. I just wanna ride, it’s been so long since I last went.”
Thalia agrees. “Sure, I’ll ask my dad, I’m pretty sure he’s already friends with the owner of the one in Barcelona so it should be easy.”
“Great,” you smile, excited by the thought, though your smile turns into a frown as you realise you’re walking by the same door you just walked out of a little while ago.
At the same time, Thalia slows down. “Are we lost?” she asks.
Looking up at the women’s washroom sign, your frown deepens. “Yeah, I think we’ve just gone in a circle.” You look up and down the corridor, taking a few steps in the opposite direction from which you just came to follow a different path. “Maybe we should try going left from here instead?”
“There really should be a clearer exit,” Thalia huffs. “My feet hurt.”
Laughing, you glance back at her. “I don’t think anyone was taking into account the fact that people might be walking in 6-inch heels down these corridors– oh.” Mid-sentence, you bump into someone as you’re walking around the next corner. “Sorry,” you say, looking up at the guy as you feel steady hands on your arms to stop you from stumbling.
“I’m so sorry,” he says at the same time, looking down.
Oh.
His brows knit together before a smile breaks out on his face. “Y/N?”
“Lawrence!” A smile appears on your face embarrassingly fast. “Hi!”
He chuckles softly, taking a step back and taking his hands with him. You don’t know whether to appreciate the sweetness or be sad they’re gone.
Lawrence Goldman is one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid eyes on with a personality to match, and he was your high school crush for years. He was everyone’s crush to be honest, but even in uni, you never were able to stop swooning over him, but that’s all it’s ever been, a crush. For some reason, you could never let yourself take it further despite him showing interest a few times.
“It’s been so long, my gosh, how are you?” he asks, eyes skimming your figure. “You look absolutely amazing,” he adds without a second thought.
“Hey again,” Thalia says, appearing beside you.
Lawrence gives her a smile, his attention quickly returning to you.
“I’m great,” you beam, “how are you? I’m surprised to see you, I thought you were working in Singapore?”
“I am,” he nods before looking at Thalia. “Well I was, but there was no way I was gonna miss this one’s wedding.”
Thalia laughs, putting her arm around him briefly. “Love you for it, Goldie.”
Lawrence rolls his eyes at the nickname and you smile. Thalia and Lawrence attended the same prep school before reuniting in college, and it’s through Lawrence that Thalia was introduced to Alex and the rest of you — your world is apparently a very small world so Lawrence being here really shouldn’t be a surprise to you, but with everything else going on, you may have forgotten about Lawrence.
“I’ve only just joined because I had a meeting I couldn’t miss yesterday,” he adds, eyes skimming down your figure once more while he thinks you’re still smiling at Thalia but you definitely don’t miss it.
“Ah, I see.” You can’t help it when you mirror his actions, noting how the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving a peak of the chain he’s always worn since he Longbottom-ed — he clearly knows the effect it has. “So you’re joining us for the rest of the cruise?” When your eyes meet his again, his lips curl into a smirk.
“Yes,” he nods. “I’ll be here.”
Noticing Thalia glancing between you both, you realise you ought to stop whatever weirdness is going on right now before she thinks there’s something between you, not that she won’t ask you herself anyway.
“Well that’s great,” you smile, taking a step closer to Thalia’s side.
“Mhm, I’m looking forward to spending time with you,” he says.
Your response is on the top of your tongue — “so am I” — and you intend to say it with a flutter of your lashes, but before you can say anything, Thalia answers for you.
“We all are,” she grins, hand winding around your waist where she squeezes with a light force when she says the next words. “Including Jungkook and Alex.”
For a second you’re confused but the mention of Jungkook sparks your memory and you remember everything that’s happened in the past few days.
Jungkook and you are dating — you realise now why Thalia interjected and she was right to do so, otherwise you might’ve made a silly mess by opening yourself up to flirting with Lawrence.
“Oh, yes,” you answer, perking up. “Jungkook will definitely be happy to see you I’m sure, it’s been a while since we all met last.”
“Yeah?” Lawrence casually responds.
“Of course,” Thalia says with a wiggle of her brows. “Y/N is his girlfriend, she would know of course.”
As you smile dutifully, you catch the confusion briefly show on Lawrence’s face before he quickly disguises it as surprise. “You and Jungkook?” he says, lips turning into a smile. It’s the kind of smile that could mean many things.
“Yep,” you nod, lips pursed in a smile.
Something resembling a sigh leaves him. “You guys will have to catch me up on that for sure,” he says.
“There’ll be lots to catch you up on,” Thalia grins, “but right now, can we figure out how to get out of here?”
Lawrence chuckles, stepping to the side. “Of course, I know the way.” He gestures towards the left, waiting for you and Thalia to pass.
As you fall into stride with Thalia on one side and Lawrence on the other side, you can’t help but feel some kind of disappointment at Lawrence’s reaction, though what did you expect?
Of course he’s not going to say or do anything differently, and as long as you’ve agreed to be Jungkook’s girlfriend, you shouldn’t want him to react any differently. You’re lucky Thalia stepped in when she did or you might’ve completely forgotten you’re supposed to be in a relationship with someone else and would’ve ended up blowing the story for Jungkook entirely.
“Ah, here we are!” Thalia skips forward out into the late evening night.
The view on the balcony now is even more beautiful with fairy lights adorning the trees along its perimeter. Everyone you recognise seems to be congregating towards one area as it’s almost time to leave to board the cruise ship again.
“Oh there you are.” Jungkook appears from the middle of the crowd, not seeming to have noticed Lawrence who’s more closely following Thalia. “We’re leaving soon, here.” He hands you your purse you left with him a while earlier.
“Thanks,” you answer, taking it and checking you haven’t left anything else. “Sorry, we got a bit lost inside.”
“Mhm, that’s fine, I was just about to come look for you anyway,” Jungkook says, looking at Thalia and only then does he notice Lawrence. The lines expressing concern in his face deepen into confusion.
Seeing this change, Lawrence smiles. “Hey mate.”
In a split second Jungkook’s confused frown changes to a smile. “Lawrence!” Reaching forward, the two share a pleasant exchange.
“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?”
“Not bad, yourself?”
Jungkook nods. “I’ve been alright.”
“Better than alright from what I hear,” Lawrence says, brow raising as he glances in your direction.
Jungkook’s gaze follows and you smile with a little shrug, subtly nodding at Jungkook.
“Ah.” Jungkook chuckles, taking a step towards your side. “Well, yeah, better than alright,” he confirms with a very believable smile.
Lawrence laughs, looking between you. From behind him, you catch Thalia standing beside Alex as they watch the interaction play out.
“I think it’s amazing,” Lawrence says, patting Jungkook’s arm. “You two are great together.”
“You’ve only just seen us again,” you say with a smile.
“Hm, I’ve seen it for years,” Lawrence replies with a nod of his head and a small sigh as he looks at you. He’s still smiling but when you look at him, the brightness in his eyes has faded. “Trust me,” he says quieter than before, “I was always watching.”
Pursing your lips, you smile but you still feel self conscious as his gaze on you doesn’t budge. “That sounds a little stalker-ish, Lawrence,” you chuckle.
Laughing, he shrugs. “Might’ve been. I always was a bit of a recluse.”
“I wouldn’t say you were a recluse.”
He arches his brow, lips morphing into a cocky smile. “Then what would you say I was?”
Mirroring his expression, you scoff. “What d’you want me to say, huh? Tall, handsome and mysterious?”
“Took the words right from my mouth,” he says smugly.
“Ha,” you laugh. Despite it being somewhat true, you respond to say otherwise. “You wish.”
Lawrence smiles. “Ah, I guess those words are reserved for this one, huh?” He nods towards Jungkook.
“Hm…” you look towards Jungkook who smiles with his lips pursed. It’s not his usual full smile and behind it there seems to be a reservation that tells you he’s being more quiet than usual. Nudging him gently, you beam when he meets your eyes. “Nah, I’ve got better words for this one.”
He nods and chuckles quietly but only briefly.
You wonder what’s caused the shift in his mood since he seemed so bright only a moment ago when greeting Lawrence.
“Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about it, I’m interested to hear how things happened between you,” Lawrence says.
Humming quietly, you nod as your attention remains on Jungkook. “Some other time, I think we need to get moving now,” you say, nodding towards the crowd of moving guests ahead of you.
“Ah, yes,” he answers, turning to look behind him. “I’ll see you around though, yeah?” He places his hand on your arm.
You don’t pay much attention to it but feel Jungkook pull on your hand gently.
“Yeah man, we’ll see you around,” he says, reaching to pat Lawrence’s arm.
Lawrence nods, throwing you a smile before he turns and joins the rest of your party.
As he walks away, Jungkook turns to you. “Shall we go too?”
You nod, allowing him to lead the way, hand still in yours. There’s a hum of conversation around you as everyone makes their way back towards the cars to take you to the port, but you’re grateful no one interrupts the two of you as you walk alone, a little behind the rest.
“You okay?” you ask after a quiet moment.
Jungkook answers almost right away. “Yeah. You?”
“Mhm.” You watch him as he kicks some of the sand beneath his feet with every step. “You sure though?”
He turns to look at you, a smile on his lips though his brows furrow a little in the middle. “Yeah, why?”
“Just,” you shrug. “I thought you seemed a bit quiet back there with Lawrence.”
Jungkook turns away and shrugs. “I’m all good, no reason not to be.”
It’s not exactly convincing to you, but you take his word for it. If it’s something he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you in his own time if he wants to. Or, it’s actually just nothing and you’re overthinking this for no reason. After all, there is no explanation that you can think of for Jungkook to be upset with Lawrence, especially when he was so happy to see him just now. Yes, you’re just overthinking it.
“Y/N, Jungkook, please be on time for breakfast tomorrow and not an hour late like last time,” your mother scolds airily as she waves her hand behind her.
“Yes, mom,” you smile as she turns into her cabin.
“Will do,” Jungkook nods, raising a hand to say good night to your parents.
Once their door is closed, Jungkook continues to walk with you towards your cabin.
“You better wake up earlier this time,” you yawn, pulling out your key card.
Jungkook scoffs, coming to a stop next to your door. “Me?!” He rests his hand against the door frame, leaning closer. “You’re the one who was still sleeping when I came down.”
Smiling, you shake your head. “You have no proof.”
He matches your smile, cocking his head. “Alright, I’m recording you tomorrow morning, don’t get mad at me when I get your bed head and dried dribble face on camera.”
“Hey,” you pout, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t dribble.”
Jungkook shrugs, smiling. ”Tomorrow I’ll have proof.”
You narrow your eyes at him, internally vowing to wake up early so you can be ready before he comes to you. “There’s no—“
“Oh, Jungkook, Y/N!”
The sickeningly sweet cotton candy voice has your smile faltering. Jungkook winces, his face hidden from Valentina as she approaches from behind you.
Slowly, you turn around to face her.
“Well isn’t this just perfect,” she beams, coming to stop beside you both. “We’re neighbours here!”
Chuckling, you nod your head. “That really is perfect.”
Valentine smiles again, glancing between the two of you before shrugging. “Well,” she sighs, opening her purse to look for her key card. “Don’t mind me, I was just grabbing a few things. You two enjoy your night.” She waves airily but doesn’t move.
“Mhm, you too,” you nod.
As she pulls out her key card, she’s just about to walk away before she pauses to focus on Jungkook and a delicate frown appears on her face.
Glancing at him, you’re not surprised to see she’s frowning. Jungkook hasn’t said a word and he looks rather pained right now.
“Jungkook, are you okay?” She tilts her head. “You look a little…” She steps closer, frown deepening as she moves until all of a sudden she stops. “Oh.” Her eyes widen, an apologetic pout appearing on her face. “I see, was I interrupting something?” She asks, pointing between you both.
For a second you’re confused — yes, she interrupted your conversation with Jungkook and she knows that already — but then you remember that you’re supposed to be in a romantic relationship with Jungkook, and the expression on Valentina's face tells you she thinks she’s interrupted something else.
Jungkook is obviously just as confused. “Huh?”
“You’re both going to bed now, are you not?”
He frowns. “Uh, yeah…”
“Yes, I thought so. Apologies then…” She glances down towards Jungkook’s crotch as the words that follow imply it — “oh, sorry, I must’ve put that fire out.”
A strangled noise escapes Jungkook’s throat and he looks relatively mortified. “What?— no!” He takes a step closer to your side while you somehow pull him closer to your side protectively in an attempt to hide him from her.
Valentina doesn’t respond to the expressions on neither of your faces and only sighs disappointedly, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “I remember there was a time when I was the one to ignite the fire in your loins.”
The same strangled noise comes from Jungkook and you have to stop from bursting out into laughter.
“Val,” Jungkook says, “were you not going somewhere?”
“Oh, yes.” She perks up, smiling brightly again. “Well you two lovebirds go ahead.”
Just when you expect her to walk away, she doesn’t. In fact she stands there waiting for Jungkook and you to go into what she thinks is your shared cabin.
“We will,” Jungkook says with the fakest smile you’ve seen on him.
Valentina only nods, still waiting.
Jungkook is about to say something again but you know there’s no point. Unlocking your door, you pull him into your room with you. “Bye, Val.”
“Good night,” you hear her respond as the door closes shut.
Turning around to face Jungkook, you look at him with an expression crossed between shock and amusement. “Oh my God, how did you ever date her?!”
Jungkook groans, collapsing face down onto the end of your bed. “I swear she isn’t that bad, she’s doing it on purpose,” he says, muffled into the sheets.
Humming, you sit at the end of your bed beside him. “I guess so.” You lie down so you’re level with him.
Lying beside him, it’s quiet for a moment as you replay the exchange in your head. “So, she must’ve really been something if she was igniting the fire in your loins.” You can’t help but snort after saying it and Jungkook laughs beside you too, head still buried.
Now that Valentina isn’t here, you allow yourself to laugh at it and you’re glad Jungkook does too. By the time you’re done laughing at it, you’re wiping away tears.
Lifting his head, he shakes his head. “This isn’t gonna be easy,” he says.
“Yeah, she really doesn’t make it easy,” you respond quietly.
Both of you fall silent for a moment again, listening carefully to see if you can hear her footsteps.
“I can’t hear her anymore,” Jungkook says.
“Me neither.” You turn to look at him.
He props himself up on his elbows. “So what now?”
“Well, we could wait till she goes away and then you sneak out,” you think aloud. “But how are we gonna do that every night?”
Jungkook nods, understanding. “So I should just stay?”
“I’m cool with it if you are,” you shrug.
For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, then he looks at you with a soft frown creasing his forehead. “Are you sure?”
“Totally sure,” you nod, rolling onto your side to lean on your elbow. “Besides, it’s not like we’ve made things easy for ourselves,” you add with a laugh.
The lines seem to have disappeared from Jungkook’s face but when your eyes search for some kind of clue to his feelings, you find something you can’t decipher hiding behind the brown of his eyes.
He smiles, releasing a soft breath as he does so, and only now do you realise how close your face is to his.
“Promise me you’ll tell me if you feel uncomfortable?” he says.
Nodding, you lift your pinky finger.
He raises his own hand and closes his own pinky finger around yours.
“I will,” you promise him.
His smile grows and oddly, you feel your heart do a little flutter in your chest as a warm feeling spreads through you. You’re suddenly reminded of how you felt earlier on in the evening as you lay on the balcony with Jungkook… has he always made you feel this way? Before you can let yourself think about it, Jungkook is leaping off the bed and with him, the feeling disappears.
“So, I don’t plan on having your mum tell me off tomorrow morning so I’m going to sleep.” He turns to look at you, placing his hand on his hips. “Slight problem though, my clothes are in my cabin.”
“Then go get them, duh,” you answer.
“What if Valentina is still outside?” he says, pointing to the door. “It’s only been a few minutes, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s trying to eavesdrop on us right now.”
“Hmm…” you can’t deny he has a point. “Well I guess,” you say, dropping your voice to a whisper, “you won’t know until you try.”
“Alright,” Jungkook sighs, grabbing his phone from the bed.
You follow him to the door and you’re actually almost surprised when he opens it to reveal no one is there. Jungkook turns to look at you sporting a similar expression on his face and shrugs before stepping out.
“I guess that makes things easier for us—“
You’re interrupted mid-sentence as Jungkook immediately turns back into the room with a slightly panicked expression, barging into you.
“Jungkook!” Losing your balance, you feel yourself falling backwards with Jungkook stumbling forward. Your ass hits the floor first and you just manage to bring your arms behind you in time but your head still hits the carpeted floor behind you, and Jungkook who seems to fall in slow motion with you, eventually lands on top of you.
“Oh I’m sorry,” he mumbles, pushing himself up onto his forearms.
“That really hurt,” you groan, squirming on the floor. You’re grateful the floor is carpeted but both your head and ass still hurt.
Jungkook looks down at you with concern replacing any previous features. “Where?”
Rubbing the back of your head, you frown at him. “Everywhere. Why’d you turn back?”
“She’s right there!” Jungkook suddenly whispers instead. “She was practically having sex against the wall with some guy.”
Still recovering from your fall, you look at him confused. “What?”
Jungkook grimaces. “She was outside her room with some guy.”
“But we just saw her!” you respond in a hushed whisper.
“I know! He must’ve been close by and they were making out like their lives depended on—”
“Well, this is interesting.”
Rolling your eyes at the sound of her voice, you let your head drop back onto the floor while Jungkook scrambles to move off of you. Moving beside you, he reveals Valentina standing at the door, her lipstick smudged and her hair a bit messier than it was a little while earlier.
She narrows her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. “Foreplay on the floor is new to me, and leaving the door open…” She looks directly at Jungkook. “I didn’t know you were into voyeurism.”
Jungkook visibly freaks out, getting up and pulling you with him. “No, gosh, it was an accident.”
Valentina frowns. “I don’t judge, Jungkook,” she says matter-of-factly.
“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he replies almost exasperatedly. “But this was just an accident, we fell over.”
“Hm, okay,” she says with a shrug as she glances at the bed.
You know she doesn’t believe him but really there’s nothing else you can say to make her think otherwise. Besides, you don’t really care what she thinks while your head still hurts.
“Well, anyway, I’ve got to go.” She looks back at you with a smirk. “How about we both do our best to keep it down tonight, hm?” she winks before turning and fluttering her fingers. “Ta-ta angels, see you in the morning!”
As soon as she’s disappeared from view, you go shut the door behind her, leaning against the wood.
“Okay, she is so doing it on purpose.”
“I know,” Jungkook agrees almost immediately. “I don’t get why though.”
“I know why,” you say, raising your brows. “She probably still isn’t over you.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “If anything, she’s just not used to people moving on from her. Her exes were always all over her when we were together.”
“So she expects you to go crawling back to her?”
“Pretty much,” he shrugs. “She’s really not helping herself though. Maybe I should talk to her, tell her to just give me space…” He looks at you, raising his brow in question.
“You could, but I reckon she’ll just act innocent and pretend she has no clue what you’re talking about.”
“True,” Jungkook sighs.
“Look, it’s fine,” you say, walking over to the drawer. “It’s just Val, nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” Throwing a set of satin pyjamas on the bed, you turn around to face him again. “Besides, I’m tired now, my head hurts and I’d like to sleep.”
The frown on Jungkook’s face doesn’t disappear. “It still hurts?” he asks, coming over to you.
“Yeah, you knocked me over pretty hard, my ass hurts too,” you pout.
Jungkook chuckles, hands coming to rest on your shoulders and he squeezes gently. “Want me to massage it?” he jokes.
“Ooh, good idea. Let’s leave the door open too,” you laugh.
Jungkook smiles, still giving you a shoulder massage and you feel yourself letting go slowly.
“Mm,” you hum softly, head relaxing. Jungkook steps closer and you let your forehead rest against his chest.
You don’t realise as Jungkook’s hands stop working and gently make their way around your waist, holding you up as you get lost in the warmth of his embrace.
“Should we go to bed before you fall asleep here?” Jungkook says after a moment.
Pulling away from him, you smile with tired eyes. “Dibs on the bathroom first.”
Jungkook obliges and sits down on your bed while you go first. When it’s his turn, he goes quickly since he has the most minimal night time routine, one of which you’ve always been envious of.
You’re just finishing brushing your hair when he’s coming out.
“What time is it?” he asks, stepping out as he dries his face.
“Almost two,” you respond, getting up to walk over to your pyjamas on the bed.
Jungkook turns around without being told, facing the opposite direction. “D’you think I could go get my clothes from upstairs now?”
You pull on your pyjama bottoms. “Probably not. I don’t think I have anything that would fit you either.”
“What do I do then?” Jungkook asks, his confused tone making you laugh.
“Don’t act like you don’t sleep naked half the time, Jeon.”
“Well when I’m alone, yeah. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” he says.
“I’m not, don’t worry.” You clamber into bed, pulling the sheets up to your shoulders as you get comfortable. “Just get into bed.”
Still facing away from you, Jungkook shrugs before pulling off his top. You don’t realise you’re staring at him strip until he starts pulling down his pants.
Abruptly, you pull the covers up even higher so you can’t see him. You hear him shuffling and then he stops but you can’t feel him getting into bed.
“Really?” he says. “My abs offend you that much?”
You can’t help but laugh, still keeping your eyes closed as you move the sheets down but place your hand in front of your eyes instead. “Actually, they make for pretty good eye candy.”
Jungkook gasps scandalously, still shuffling about the room. “Have you been checking me out, Y/N?”
Cocking your head, you smile. “Now what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t appreciate you and your God given looks, hm?”
“A terrible one.”
“Exactly.”
“So why are you covering your eyes?” he asks, his voice growing louder as you feel the covers move beside you.
“Because there’s another friend of yours that I don’t think I should be seeing as your best friend,” you say, ignoring the way you feel your cheeks go warm when you say it, and especially the way Jungkook’s deep chuckle sounds as you notice the bed dip beside you.
“He’s covered,” he says quietly.
“Not enough.”
Jungkook laughs again and this time you can feel his body beside yours. “That friend is hidden safe and sound, Y/N. You can look now.”
Peeking your eyes open slowly, you see Jungkook right beside you in bed. He’s sitting up, smiling down at you with his abs eye level to you. You’ve seen Jungkook topless before plenty of times, but being this close and being in bed with him is new to you. You’re sure it’s the reason you feel your heart rate rising.
“Good,” you say, turning away. “Now hide the eye candy please. It’s bedtime, I’ve brushed my teeth and I’m not trying to get a cavity.”
Jungkook laughs, sliding down further into the bed to cover himself up to his shoulders.
“They’re that sweet, huh?”
“I’d be disappointed if they weren’t, all that time in the gym would just be a waste.”
“Now that’s true,” Jungkook says with a smile, shifting in the bed so he’s more comfortable.
You hum quietly, staying still as Jungkook moves. Only once he’s found his comfortable position, then you do the same, turning onto your belly facing him.
Jungkook happens to be facing you too and he smiles sleepily as his eyes close. “Good night, Y/N.”
Your eyes remain open for a few seconds as you look at him a little longer. “Mhm, night Koo,” you whisper, smiling even though he can’t see you.
He looks pretty when he sleeps. You take in every one of his features, unaware that there is still a smile on your face as you do so.
Catching you unaware, Jungkook winks an eye open. “What’re you looking at, hm?” he asks softly with a teasing lilt to his voice.
You feel flustered, eyes going wide. “There’s something on your face,” you say quickly, brushing nothing off of his face. “Eyelash or something,” you mutter, subconsciously shifting away from him a little since the close proximity definitely isn’t helping.
“Uh-huh,” he nods, hiding a smile.
You’re not sure what it is about his smile that makes your heart skip a beat and your senses go fuzzy like they’ve done so more than once now because of Jungkook. It’s odd, he’s not doing anything different, yet you feel different. Mentally, you officially dub this The Jungkook Effect.
There’s not much you can say to defend yourself so you press your eyes shut and fight back a smile yourself. “Well, anyway, good night.”
“You sure you wanna sleep?” Jungkook teases.
“Oh shut up,” you say with a laugh, you pull one of the pillows out from behind your head and place it in the small space between your torsos.
Jungkook lifts his own head off his pillow and looks down at it with an amused smile. “Is this really necessary?”
Lifting your own head and resting on your palm, you arch your brow at him. “I’ve read enough books to know what happens when two people who aren’t dating share a bed.”
Jungkook mirrors your expression and dares to move an inch closer. “And what’s that?”
Smiling like the little know it all you are, you answer, “They wake up in the morning with someone’s cute ass, which would be mine in this case, conveniently pushed up against someone’s dick.”
Jungkook clicks his tongue and the smirk on his lips is clear as day. “Ah, which would be mine,” he says, briefly looking down. His lips look wet when he says it and for some reason you find yourself wanting this conversation to continue on the same wavelength it is right now… but it’s also at this moment you realise you’re lying in bed and practically flirting with your best friend.
“Exactly,” you say, letting out a small breath as you fall back into your pillow, looking up to the ceiling.
Pursing his lips, Jungkook hides a smile. “Well I guess we definitely don’t want that to happen.”
You stifle a laugh as you lightly whack him with the pillow between you before putting it back in its place. “Shut it, Jeon.”
He chuckles, falling back into his pillow. “Just kidding,” he murmurs, sliding further beneath the covers and getting comfortable. “Good night, Y/N.”
With a tired smile, you hum. “Good night, Koo.”
The stops at St Tropez and Nice both pass as quickly as the first few cities in Spain and before you know it, you’ve visited all the cities scheduled for France too. The stop in Barcelona has been your favourite so far though — the resort the Diamindis’ booked for the families on the cruise most definitely did not disappoint and the riding you got to do was just a big bonus, especially watching Alias struggling with his mare.
The whole Jungkook situation has been pretty easy to navigate too. Now that the important people in your life know it’s not real, it makes it easier and Jungkook and you only need to behave as you normally do so you’re both happy. On top of that, you’ve noted that you haven’t had any more experiences with the Jungkook effect, though you’re not sure you can say that pleases you.
It’s also been a while since you’ve hung out with Lawrence. He seemed to stay close in the first few days but you figured it must be his parents encouraging him to socialise with some of the other families since he’s not at home much. This became true enough when you saw him stuck at a table in some fancy restaurant in Nice with the Maddison’s.
Although you did hope to get to spend some more time with Lawrence, at least for old times sake, you can’t say you care much, especially since Sophia has finally joined you.
“Why don’t we go to the pool?” you say, raising your brows at Sophia. It’s almost midnight but you’re still lounging on a quieter deck with Jungkook and Alias. Since it’s a sea day tomorrow, you don’t need to be up early and it seems like it’ll be more fun than the last time now that Sophia is here too.
She perks up at that, turning towards you. “It’s closed right?”
“Yep, but that just makes it better,” you smile, ignoring Jungkook and Alias scoffing at your change in opinion — last time you were adamant that you should be following the rules.
“Okay, let’s do it.” She looks at Jungkook and Alias. “You guys joining us?”
“Sure,” Alias hops up. “It’ll be fun to see Y/N break the rules,” he grins at you.
Sassing him, you get up too. “This time I’m pushing you in.”
“I’d like to see you try.” Alias tenses, flexing his biceps. “I’m 73 kilos of this,” he nods.
It’s no secret that Alias has an impressive figure, but unwilling to cave, you just roll your eyes and playfully swat his arm. “Whatever.”
“Alright, let’s meet at the top deck pool in ten minutes?” Jungkook says hopping up from the lounge.
“Make that fifteen,” Sophia says. “I don’t know where I put all my swimsuits.”
Agreeing, you all head towards the upper decks, only splitting up to go towards your respective corridors to your cabins. Sophia and Alias go right towards the corridor where their family cabins are situated, while Jungkook and you still need to walk a little further to get back to your shared cabin.
Surprisingly, it’s been easy to share a cabin with Jungkook. Most days you come back from whatever activity you had that day and knock out easily since you’re so tired. On top of that, your pillow idea seems to be working perfectly and you haven’t experienced any awkward or uncomfortable moments. There have, however, been a few times you’ve mistaken the pillow for Jungkook and in the split second it takes you to realise it’s only the pillow, you can swear your heart skips a beat and your pulse races. The disappointment that follows is something you can’t seem to explain to yourself.
“So Sophia comes and all of a sudden you’re Little Miss Daredevil, huh?” Jungkook says, as you walk together.
You glance at him and note how handsome he looks today. After spending some time in the sea while in Nice, his dark locks are curled and framing his face perfectly. He walks with his hands in his short pockets and the linen material of his shirt blows in the evening air giving the occasional glimpse of his lean figure. It occurs to you that this is going to be coming off in a short while when you go to the pool—
Oop. You pause your thoughts, realising that the little flutter you just felt down south was definitely due to picturing your best friend topless. A part of you feels guilty wondering if Jungkook would be embarrassed, but you also know that Jungkook knows what you think of his physique. You pretty much said it all the other night and he’s caught you looking plenty of times before that, even making jokes about it when you did.
“She brings out that side of me,” you sigh, smiling as you descend the steps that lead towards your corridor.
“Alias and I aren’t good enough for you, huh?”
“Don’t take it personally,” you joke, and Jungkook just laughs quietly so he doesn’t wake up anyone as you walk past some cabins.
Once back at your own, you quickly change into a bathing suit and throw on a hoodie and shorts so in case any staff see you, they don’t suspect you’re planning on going to the pool.
Alias is already waiting at the top deck and you can also see he’s brought some drinks along with him. He’s chosen not to cover up and is revealing his washboard abs for the whole world to see, and let’s not forget those killer thighs of his.
“Beat you here,” he says without even thinking.
“Who was counting?” Jungkook says, bumping shoulders with him on purpose.
“I was,” Alias responds, and quickly the two resort to their childish antics as Jungkook pulls him into a headlock. You choose to sit and watch, dipping your toes in the pool as you throw your hoodie to the side.
“Guys, shut up, we can hear you from a mile away,” you hear Sophia’s voice from behind you as she climbs the steps to your deck.
Jungkook and Alias stop mid-wrestle and you get up to pull your shorts off.
“Huh?” Alias frowns, pulling himself free from Jungkook. “We?”
Once Sophia is standing on the deck, you see someone else coming up behind her.
Lawrence.
Sophia steps to the side as he steps up. “Yeah, we,” she repeats.
“Hey guys,” Lawrence says with a harmless smile, glancing across at you all.
“Hey,” you smile back.
“Oh, hey man,” Alias waves.
Jungkook smiles too with a nod of his head.
“I saw Lawrence on the way so I thought I’d ask him to join us,” Sophia explains as she too pulls off an oversized hoodie.
“I hope that’s alright,” Lawrence chuckles awkwardly.
“The more the merrier,” Alias says with a shrug. “So,” he looks at you, “who are we pushing in first?”
“You,” you smile.
Alias spreads his arms, inviting you. “I’d love to see you try, babe.”
Glancing to his right, you subtly raise your brow at Jungkook who smiles back at you. In a split second, Alias is being lifted from the ground and tossed into the pool.
Sophia and you jump into the pool right after, surfacing close to Alias.
“I thought we were friends,” he laughs at Jungkook splashing water towards him. “Gosh, I forgot how whipped you are.”
Jungkook just laughs and shrugs. “Sorry, man,” is all he says.
“You getting in?” Sophia asks Lawrence as she joins you next to the pool, dipping your toes first.
He nods. “I guess.” He glances around looking at the empty surroundings. This top deck is pretty big considering it’s wholly private.
“What?” Alias holds out his arms. “We’re not good enough for you?” he jokes.
“Of course you are,” Lawrence says before he shrugs, lips curving into a smile. “I just think with all this space, we could do something more.”
“Oh.” Sophia raises her brows, intrigued. “Like what?”
She speaks for all of you as you all look at him.
“I risk sounding like a five year old,” he says with a small laugh, “but how about hide and seek.” He looks around again. “We’re on a ship, we’ve got plenty of hiding spaces.”
The rest of you glance at each other and it’s clear that you’re all in agreement.
Alias jumps out of the pool. “Alright, but it’s hide and seek chase.” He grabs a towel and dries himself off. “I’m it first,” he adds with a devilish smile.
“Even better,” Lawrence says, pleased that everyone is on board. “Are we splitting up or staying together?”
“I’ll go with Y/N,” Jungkook says, approaching your side as you get up from the side of the pool. The air is chilly to your wet skin but you quickly warm up as Jungkook helps you pat dry.
“I’ll stay with Lawrence,” Sophia says, walking over to his side.
“Alright let’s stick to the top two decks when hiding, but if I’m chasing you, we can go anywhere,” Alias says, pulling on a linen tee.
“Where’s the base?” you ask, covering yourself up too.
“Here?” Sophia proposes.
“Or only inside the pool,” Jungkook adds to the suggestion with a shrug.
Lawrence nods in agreement, as do the rest of you.
“Alright,” Alias smirks. “Ready?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before starting to count down, “one hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight…”
The rest of you bolt immediately knowing that 100 seconds with Alias will only be 50, if that.
Sophia doesn’t even wait for Lawrence’s confirmation before running in the direction she came from but he follows her anyway.
With a tight hold on your hand, Jungkook pulls you in the opposite direction, already running faster than you can keep up with.
“Slow down,” you laugh, squeezing his hand.
“C’mon,” he says without turning back and without slowing down. “We gotta get away first, he’s only gonna count to ten.”
Just as you suspected, even with the distance that’s been put between you already, you can hear Alias yell out for you all to hear.
“Ready or not, here I come.”
You’re just grateful there’s no cabins near here.
It feels like you’re running for a mile, starting outside before Jungkook takes you through a door and down multiple corridors and even two smaller staircases you had no idea existed. He’s slower now which comes and a relief to you, but you’re still panting from all the sprinting.
“Koo, where the hell are we going?” you ask, tugging on his hand to make him stop.minutes, you find yourself on a part of the ship you’ve never been to before.
“You’re lost, aren’t you?” you say, not really caring about being lost because you’re just glad Jungkook stopped running.
“No, I’ve been here before.” Judging by the way he’s walking, it does seem like he knows where he’s going. “We’re near our cabin.”
“Really?” You look around, frowning at your surroundings. “I don’t recognise it.”
“Yep,” Jungkook takes your hand as he taps his pass on a door to go down a corridor which you still don’t recognise but from the smell, seems to be near the kitchen.
“Wait, Jungkook…” you pause, looking back at a small sign above where Jungkook tapped his card. Staff only. “How?” you ask in bewilderment.
Jungkook just pulls you forward with a smug look on his face “Alias gave it to me. He got one for himself and Alex too.”
Of course he did. “He’s trying to get us kicked off, I swear.”
“It’s just for a little fun,” Jungkook grins. “Besides, this way, we can win the game.”
“Yeah, except Alias can get in here too then.”
Coming to a split in the corridor, Jungkook stops. “Oh yeah,” he mumbles. “Well,
“Hey!”
Jungkook and you both turn on the spot to the sound of a voice from ahead of you. It’s a member of staff, the same one from the night Alias and Jungkook jumped in the pool. He seemed pretty mad at the time and seeing his expression now as he starts walking towards you, he seems the same. You don’t blame him, he was chasing you guys for the better part of ten minutes.
“Run?” Jungkook whispers, his fingers clasping yours tightly.
“Run,” you nod.
Before you know it, your legs are moving as Jungkook leads you down the closest corridor.
“Hey! Stop!”
You almost feel bad about running away, but at the same time, you know that the guy is only trying to stop you to feed whatever power trip he’s on, so you keep running as fast as you can to try to keep up with Jungkook.
“Do you know where you’re going?” you huff, looking over your shoulder.
The guy is right behind you.
“No,” Jungkook laughs, slowing down as he sees a corridor to his right.
“Keep going,” you laugh too, pulling him down the corridor before the guy can catch up.
“Oi, I said stop!” he yells.
“What d’you think, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, though he shows no sign of stopping. “Should we listen to him?”
“Never,” you respond, glancing back again. He seems to be slowing down but you don’t stop yet. This time, you take the lead and go down a smaller corridor which you realise leads to a staircase.
“Up,” Jungkook ushers you, letting you go first. Luckily it;s a short one and Jungkook comes up close behind you.
“Left or right?” you ask, glancing down the corridor. The left leads to a door which heads outside, the right leads to a door which seems to hide a dimly lit corridor.
Jungkook takes your hand again, going left. As he pushes the door open, you hear the guy is still coming close behind you. “Stop,” he yells.
You’re honestly surprised he’s still chasing you but you’re also tired now and really just want to stop. “Koo, I think I have asthma,” you breathe out, feeling your steps slow down.
Jungkoook chuckles, looking back at you. “Y/N, we’ve been through this before, you don’t have asthma.”
You would pout because you know he’s righ and you still want to stop but you also don’t want that guy to catch up to you.
Still, Jungkook glances around while jogging as though he’s looking for something. “Ah, there!”
You’re too tired to ask what, only letting Jungkook lead you across the deck to a door which takes you back inside. As you enter, you see the staff still coming behind you. Gosh, he’s bothered. After only a few yards, Jungkook uses the staff pass to open a door on your right. Inside is a small room with a few shelves lining the walls and one big one in the middle; it’s full of rescue equipment.
“What the hell, Koo?” you laugh, letting him take you inside as he closes the door quickly.
He takes you to hide behind the biggest shelf in the middle of the room. With your back pressed against it, he stands close in front of you so he can still see the door.
When you look up at him, you see a massive grin on his face and that mischievous gleam in his eyes that you love.
“You’re crazy,” you murmur, restraining a laugh.
“Shh,” he whispers, placing his hand beside your head as he takes the smallest step closer, one that’s enough for you to feel the warmth of his breathing as his chest rises and falls so close to you.
The sensation makes you fall quiet anyway and you’re sure that even if you did speak, no one from outside would be able to hear you, but you’re rather enjoying the feeling of having him this close to you. The smell of his perfume – your favourite – fills you with every heavy inhale as you catch your breath too, and suddenly, you find this feeling familiar.
That damned Jungkook effect.
Since you’re stuck here hiding for a few moments, you can do nothing but just embrace it as it comes. Apparently you’re embracing it a little too much as you don’t realise your eyes close and your head slowly moves closer to his chest. It just feels so good being this close to him – feeling his warmth, smelling him… his body is so close to yours, you wonder what would happen if you just took another step forward and–
“You okay there?” Jungkook’s voice comes out low with a humorous lilt.
‘“Hm?” Your eyes go wide as you realise your head was resting on his chest. “Sorry,” you mumble, suddenly feeling your cheeks go warm. “I’m tired, it’s late.”
“Mhm, that’s okay.”
Looking up, you see the mischievous gleam in his eyes has changed to something playful.
“You can use me as a pillow anytime,” he adds with a wink.
Scoffing, you poke him in the chest. “Well I gotta put these pecs to use somehow.”
He laughs quietly before poking his head out to the side. “Come on, I think he’s gone and we’ve got a game to get back to.”
You follow him to the door and find the corridor empty, thankfully. “Alias has probably already found the other guys.”
“That would make us the winners.”
“Mm, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to get back to base first.”
“Oh, yeah.” Jungkook pauses, looking around. “Where is the base from here?”
“Um…” Stopping beside him, you look around too. It’s hard to tell when it’s dark but there’s some parts of the deck which look familiar to you. “I think we keep going forward.”
“Actually, I think we’ve passed the way up.”
“What?” you frown, looking up confused.
“Well the pool was at one of the top decks and there’s one way up which we missed, no?”
“I don’t think so.”
Jungkook looks down at you, his brows raised. “Really?”
“Really,” you say, taking his hand to tug him along, except he doesn’t move. When you look back at him, you see he’s got his brows raised with a smile, one that only spells a challenge.
“Oh, c’mon, Koo,” you sigh.
He shrugs before swinging your hand. “Let’s see who gets there first then,” he says in a sing-songy voice.
“Fine,” you shrug, already turning away from him. “Just be careful Alias doesn’t get you on your way.”
“I’ll be fine, just look out for yourself,” he responds as he already starts skipping back the other way.
Shaking your head, you turn back to look at your surroundings. You’re sure there’s a small staircase somewhere near here that you’re supposed to go up which should be close to the pool. It’s when you’re glancing around now that you realise it’s actually quite scary being alone on an empty deck late at night with no company but the sea.
Taking a few steps back, you look down the way you came to see if Jungkook might still be there but of course he’s not – he’s probably running to make sure he gets back before you.
Sighing, you continue down the path that seems familiar to you, only to hear a small bang from somewhere in front of you. Immediately, you’re relieved to see Lawrence coming around the corner ahead of you.
He smiles when he sees you. “Hey,” he says, voice hushed.
“Hey,” you answer, looking behind him. “Was that bang you?”
He looks back, confused for a split second before he nods. “Oh, yeah, I just jumped down the last few steps when I was coming down.”
“Right. Where’s Alias and Sophia?”
“Well Alias tried to get me just a little while ago but I lost him,” he says, looking proud of himself before he frowns. “Where’s Jungkook?”
“We split up,” you answer with a smug smile. “He thinks the base is back this way.” You point in the direction that he went in. “But I know it’s this way.” You point in the opposite direction.
Lawrence chuckles, looking at you somewhat endearingly though it goes unnoticed by you. “Uh, Y/N, it’s the other way.”
“Huh?” you frown, looking back. “Really?”
“Yep,” he nods, hiding an amused smile. “I can show you the way if you like?”
Sighing in defeat, you agree to go with him. “It’s not like I have any chances of beating him now.”
“Ah,” Lawrence sighs as he falls into stride beside you. “Still got the competitive streak I see?”
“Me?” you laugh quietly, glancing at him.
“Mhm, you,” he says matter-of-factly, still sporting a smile.
Looking at him now, you note how relaxed and care-free he seems. You’re not sure whether it’s because his usually swept back hair is now falling freely, or if it’s because of the glow on his face from the light sheen of sweat from the humidity of the evening air. It’s nice to see him like this, even the smile is a difference – growing up he always seemed so mysterious and quiet which no doubt had to do with the pressure he faced as an only child and a big family name to live up to.
“Well, it’s good you remember. I won’t be losing today either,” you say with a playful nudge.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he laughs. “If we bump into Alias, I’m ditching you fast.”
“I hope so, you’re dead weight to me.”
“Hey!” He nudges you back as he still laughs, loosely running his hand through his hair.
“Mm, remember when we were kids?” you say, suddenly reminiscing. “We used to do this stuff all the time.”
Lawrence nods. “I do,” he says with a smile. “There was one Christmas, we all went up to that chalet in… oh, where was it?” he frowns, looking at you. “Courchevel?”
“Hm…” You shake your head as it rings a bell. “I don’t think so, there was only one year we celebrated Christmas abroad all together and it wasn’t in France.”
“Switzerland?”
“Yes!” You say, pointing your finger at him as you suddenly remember the finer details of the trip. “At St Moritz, we had that massive suite at Kempinski.”
“That's the one,” Lawrence says with a smile matching yours. “D’you remember those nights we would always want to go out but our parents never let us? So we used to run around hiding from them.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “I remember Leon and Helena would get so mad, even I was scared of them but their own kids never even cared.”
“My parents got mad too but we still did it every night,” Lawrence laughs, his walk slowing down as the two of you approach the bow. “I wonder how he were so brave,” he continues, “I bet it was Alias’s idea, all the fun stuff was always his idea.”
“Mm, actually, I think it was yours,” you say, tilting your head towards him.
“Really?” Lawrence questions, brow raised as he walks closer to the ledge overlooking the tranquil evening sea though you can’t actually see much besides a distant glittering coastline.
“Mhm, really,” you nod, coming to stand beside him.
Lawrence turns so he’s facing you, a thoughtful expression on his face but his lips are still curved in a smile as they have been this whole time. “I’m surprised you remember.”
You shrug. “I remember a lot of things.”
Lawrence opens his mouth as though to say something before closing it.
“What?” you ask, turning to face him too.
He shakes his head. “I was about to ask something but it’s probably gonna sound stupid.”
“Stupid questions are my favourite to answer,” you say with a smile.
He arches a brow, his smile changing to something more timid. “D’you remember a lot about me or just everything in general?”
You laugh, not having expected that. Lawrence isn’t really the conceited type so you don’t think it’s coming from a place of vanity, and the shy hesitancy he says it with almost makes him seem cute — like he wants you to say him.
“Both I guess,” you answer honestly.
He laughs too, one that reminds you of the days you spent daydreaming about him. It feels almost nostalgic, certainly not the same. If this was a few years ago you might’ve gotten butterflies from just hearing that laugh but now you only feel happy to see him letting his guard down and smiling which is a rare occurrence with him.
“Are you surprised?” you ask.
“Well, yeah,” he says, still with a shyness. “I thought I just went unnoticed in school.”
“Unnoticed? You were without a doubt one of the most popular guys in school.”
He shrugs. “Never felt like it.”
You scoff in amusement. “Yeah, because imagine being the one to receive almost 100 cards on Valentine’s Day every year, not to mention the endless notes in your lockers.”
“Ah,” Lawrence laughs softly. “Okay I see your point.” He glances towards you. “Never got one from you though.”
“I was too shy,” you say, trying to hide the truth a little with a tone of sarcasm.
“Probably would’ve said yes if it was from you,” he says with a playful smirk.
“Thanks for telling me this late,“ you laugh. “But wait…” You look at him in amusement, having just processed some of what he’s said. “So you’re telling me you had no idea that I had a crush on you in school?!”
Confusion is the first and only emotion you manage to catch on Lawrence’s face, the rest passing in a second. “I had no idea!” he says, half laughing while still in what can only be surprise. “You liked me?” He looks at you and you notice a tinge of pink colouring his cheeks.
“For a long time,” you laugh. “Though I don’t know why, you never paid me much attention until college.”
Lawrence doesn’t skip a beat when answering. “I had to! I’m two years older than you, any attention I wanted to give you throughout school might’ve just caused problems and I didn’t want that for you.”
“Well, how thoughtful of you to not want me to be the subject of stupid rumours, meanwhile I was left to pine over you,” you say somewhat sarcastically but still humourful. “If only I knew that you were being so considerate…” only now do you realise exactly what it is that Lawrence has just said… “Hang on.” You pause, brows creasing as you turn to look at him. “You what?”
Lawrence suddenly hesitates, timidly. “I had a thing for you,” he mumbles after a few seconds.
“You did?”
“Mhm, for a while. It’s always been there… still is.”
Your head is reeling… you could’ve had Lawrence. You still could have Lawrence – he’s telling you as much – but…
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask softly, still dumbfounded.
“I wanted to,” he admits with a small smile, just about managing to look at you now. “Your first year of college, but you seemed so carefree and I didn’t wanna be the older guy tying you down. Even though it’s just one year, everyone has fun in first year so I wanted you to have that too.” He purses his lips before releasing a small breath as he looks away.
“I wouldn’t have cared about that,” you say quietly with a laugh.
To your relief, Lawrence laughs too, albeit awkwardly. “Really?”
“Yeah,” you shrug.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I tried again in my last year, your third.” He glances at you before shrugging. “I don’t think you cared for it though.”
It’s easy to remember what he’s talking about now — there’s no way you wouldn’t remember all the times Lawrence tried to shoot his shot with you, especially because you could never figure out why you denied it to him and yourself.
Lawrence continues in your moment of silence. “I always thought it was because of Jungkook.”
All the thoughts come to a standstill in your mind…
“Now I know I was right,” Lawrence says with a wistful smile.
Is this your answer? The reason you never wanted to pursue Lawrence even after having a crush on him for so long — because of Jungkook?
It’s even crazier to you that right now, it doesn’t seem so bizarre.
Jungkook has always felt right. Maybe you do care about him in more ways than you realised, maybe everything Lawrence is saying is true, and maybe everything Alex has been saying for months now is true. There’s obviously a reason you’ve started to feel differently around him, not to mention you’re always finding any and every excuse to be with him.
Lawrence continues, unaware of the thoughts unravelling in your head. “I just wish I’d had the courage to say something sooner, but it’s my fault.” He takes a step closer and the feeling of his hand brushing yours draws you back into this moment.
Looking up, you meet his gaze to see soft eyes and furrowed brows.
“Now it’s all out there though,” he says in a voice quiet enough to be a whisper, “I have to know…”
His eyes search yours and he hesitates for a brief moment before you feel his fingers lace between yours. “It is too late, right?”
note. please interact with all parts and share your thoughts with me! <3 part 2 here
#jjk#jungkook x reader#jungkook bts#jungkook fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jeon jungkook#bts fanfic#jungkook best friends to lovers#bts fic#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#jungkook oneshot
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A/N- finn is hot- don't try to fight me on this
Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 25
Word Count- 3.2k
Warnings- mentions of STDS, sex, condoms, bananas, THEO, decapitation, Kardashians
“Why are you smiling like that?” I finish applying the lipstick Rebekah sent me as an apology gift for attacking Elena, and glance over to Theo leaning against the doorframe.
“I just had a good dream,” I mumble as I stand up from my desk and grab my jacket.
Theo hums.
“So it has nothing to do with you letting that mutt slobber all over you last night…or his brother coming over right after and spending the night with you… I must say sister, juggling two bitches,” Theo wipes away a fake tear, “I’m so proud of you.”
I whip around and glare at him, “Theodore Monty Y/l/n, watch it!”
Theo smirks at me and raises his hands.
“All I’m saying is that like 3 weeks ago the only side piece you had on your arm was Elena, and now you’ve got two brothers. Upgrades sister, hell ya!”
Theo throws out his palm for me to high-five. I don’t. Instead, I walk around him and down the hallway to the front door.
Theo continues to speak.
“Now I know you’ve had zero playtime soooo I think we should chat about this. For example, we should have the talk.”
I freeze.
“Theo, I will smother you in your sleep if you continue to talk.”
“Y/n, I don’t like children, I don’t want any nieces or nephews running around.”
I glare over my shoulder at him, “They’re vampires, you dimwit. They can’t have kids.”
Theo thinks to himself for a moment before nodding, “Okay. Well, what about STDs? What if there are vampire STDs you could catch? One look at that mutt from last night and I bet he’s got something you can catch other than fleas.”
I feel my face drop as Theo continues to mutter things to himself about vampire sexually transmitted diseases.
I shake my head, open the front door, and leave the house, hearing Theo call from behind me.
“Fine run! But don’t think for a second young lady that we won’t be discussing things later! And trust next time I see either one of those fools I will be asking them about Vamp STDs!”
At that exact moment, our 82-year-old neighbor Shelley, exits her house. I’m pretty sure her look of pure shock and horror mirrors mine.
“Oh hi Mrs. Davenport,” Theo yells happily.
—
“Hey Bonnie, how are you?”
The phone line is silent for a moment as I hear Bonnie closing a door.
“I’m fine…I guess. My mom’s going to finish her transition,” Bonnie’s sad voice makes me frown as I stare at the red light in front of me.
“I’m sorry, Bonnie,” I think back to last night and try to shake away the image of Esther’s decapitated head from my head, “If I would’ve known your mother…”
“Don’t apoligize, Y/n. It’s not your fault. And ya… it sucks she has to become a vampire but…it beats losing you or Elena. And I swear, Y/n, as soon as Damon told me that if the originals died, you would die with them, I tried stopping the spell. I would have never done it in the first place if I knew you’d die too.”
Bonnie’s earnest voice makes me smile, “I trust you, Bon. And thank you.”
I hear someone say something to Bonnie and she sighs, “I’ve got to go.”
“It’s ok, Bonnie. We’ll talk soon. Give yourself some time with your mother before coming back to this mess over here. You deserve it.”
“Okay, thank you. And when I get back we’ll find a way to get you out of that soul bond mess and away from the Mikaelsons.”
“Uh, ya, ok. Bye, Bonnie.”
I end the call and pull into the Grill’s parking lot. As I step out of my car, cross the street, and enter the grill, one thought won’t leave my head.
“What if I don’t want to break the bond?”
—
“Y/n?”
I stop walking and smile when my eyes meet Finn’s brown ones.
“Hey, Finn,” I slide into the seat in the booth across from him and can’t help but smile at the obvious discomfort he has plastered on his face.
“You look…”
“Uncomfortable…yes I know. A lot of things have changed since I was last part of civilization,” Finn fiddles with the ring on his middle finger and it reminds me of the anxious tic I do quite often.
“We could’ve met somewhere else. I know that being in big crowds like this unsettles me too,” I smile softly at him.
Finn eyes a group of passersby wearily but still shakes his head, “No…I’m alright. If I’m going to be a part of this world I’ve got to learn to live with these things.”
I nod, “Okay. So, why exactly did you have Rebekah call me to meet you here?” Finn turns his attention away from a drunk woman who seems to be having the time of her life, “You said you’d help me find my Rose.”
Oh…ya I did.
I cringe slightly, “So here’s the thing Finn,” I’m about to tell Finn that there is no way in hell Bonnie would agree to bring another old ass vampire to Mystic Falls after what just went down, but as I look at the helpless expression on Finn’s face and the loneliness in his eyes, something in my breaks, “My witch is currently out of town for a family thing,” Finn’s shoulders sag and his face drops, “But, she said she’d be happy to help as soon as she gets back.”
Finn eyes me for a moment before a soft smile on his face appears, “I’ve waited 900 years for her…a little longer will be fine. Thank you for helping me, Y/n, I know you don’t have to but…”
“Finn we’re friends, that’s what friends do,” I say simply and Finn frowns.
“Friends?”
The way he says the word aloud is as if he’s never heard it before.
“I mean you don’t have to be my friend, I was just-”
“I would like it,” Finn interrupts me, “It’s just that I’ve never really…had one before.”
His words bring back memories of me crying in my room, wondering why no one ever wanted to be around me and it makes me realize just how much me and this 1,000-year-old man have in common.
“Well, I just got my first friend like 3 months ago, so I’m pretty new to this whole friend thing too.”
Finn frowns, “I don’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to be friends with you.”
I shrug, “I’m peculiar, remember?”
Finn’s upper lip twitches, “That we are.”
—
“Wait… so Kim is the oldest?”
I groan at Finn’s words, “Finnias, no! We’ve been over this Kourtney is the oldest! Kim is the one dating Kanye.”
Finn nods thoughtfully, “And we don’t like Kanye?”
I shake my head, “No because he was mean to Taylor Swift.”
I watch as the wheels turn in Finn’s head as he continues to piece together all the information on pop culture I’ve given him in the past hour.
“Alright, I think I’m understanding. Actually…remind me again who Hannah Montana is?”
“Well, don’t you two look comfy together!”
I roll my eyes as I turn to see Demon Salvawhore smirking down at Finnias and I.
“What do you want, Demon?”
“I thought his name was Damon,” Finn questions me with a confused look.
“It is, but I still haven’t seen him and Lucifer in the same place at once so I call him Demon.”
Finn nods but looks down at his hands with a confused look.
“I just saw you two here chatting it up so I thought I might come say hi.”
“Well, we’re kind of in the middle of something here. So feel free to take your leave,” I glare at him.
“It’s alright, Y/n,” Finn says and I turn to see him getting out of the booth, “I should probably get back to make sure my siblings are still alright. But…thank you, for today and helping me.”
I smile up at Finn, “Anytime, Finnieas. And I’ll talk to Klaus about buying you that phone so I can show you how to text.”
Finn nods his head, smiling, and then walks away.
My smile falls as I glance back to Demon.
“What do you want?” “Why are you avoiding me?”
I blink slowly at him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Damon gives me an “Are you serious” look.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Pukey. I’ve tried calling you all night last night and all this morning. Only to find you here with yet another original.”
I stand up and glare at him, “Finn is my friend.”
“Ya? Just like Elijah and Klaus are right?”
This bitch.
“I’m not doing this with you right now, Damon. Leave me alone.”
I turn and walk away but Damon’s hand grabs my upper arm.
“Y/n, stop.”
“Is there a problem here, Y/n?”
I turn to my right to find Rebekah at my side, glaring at Damon.
“No, Rebekah. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Rebekah smiles at me but doesn’t move.
Damon drops my arm but doesn’t leave, “Why are you mad at me?”
It’s my turn to give him an “Are you serious” look, “Really Damon?! You almost killed the Mikaelson yesterday, which almost killed me, and then you actually did kill Bonnie’s mom who is now turning into a vampire?!”
Damon rolls his eyes and I fight the urge to slap him.
“Bonnie’s mom needed to die,” He says simply and I glare at him.
“And why was that?”
Damon doesn’t blink, “Because it came down to you or her,” His voice comes out strong, “And I’d pretty much kill everyone in this town if it meant my best friend stayed alive.”
Oh, Jesus Christ, I’m going to cry.
“Oh…”
Damon tilts his head, annoyed, “That’s all you have to say. Oh?”
The next thing I know I’m throwing my arms around him.
Damon doesn’t move for a moment, but after a few seconds his arms wrap around me and he pats my head awkwardly, “Ya, okay, Pukey. Love you too.”
I let go of Damon and fight back tears in my eyes. Damon rolls his eyes and fies his jacket trying to act tough.
“You’re too emotional,” He says nonchalantly.
I punch him in the arm, “You just called me your best friend. Not takebacks, Demon.”
Damon rolls his eyes dramatically, “Ya whatever, Pukey.”
He reaches out a hand and messes up my hair before turning around and walking away, not before I spot the small smile on his face.
“You guys are odd.”
Rebekah’s British accent makes me remember she’s standing beside me.
“Ya, kind of.”
Rebekah rolls her blue eyes and a wave of jealousy flows through me. How is it that someone can be this pretty?!
“So…Elijah didn’t come back until early this morning,” Rebekah’s lips morph into a smirk, “Do you know anything about that?”
I feel my face heat up, “Um…nope.”
Rebekah raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure? Because the smile that was plastered on his face all this morning says otherwise.”
I furrow my brows, “What does him smiling have to do with me?”
Rebekah gives me an “Are you serious” look, guess it’s common today, “Maybe because the only time my older brother smiles is when he’s around you…And he was really smiling this morning.”
At her tone I freeze, “Wait…do you think that we…” I move my hands around, “Y’know…”
Rebekah raises an eyebrow at me, “Well, didn’t you?”
I shake my head viciously, “No! All we did was kiss and then he watched Coraline with me until I went to sleep!”
Rebekah’s face falls, “Seriously? You’ve got my older brother all giddy after one kiss.”
I shrug, “I doubt he was “giddy”.
Rebekah nods her head, “Oh trust me, he was practically singing when he was making his morning coffee.
I snort out a laugh at her words and try to imagine Elijah singing.
“I like seeing him that way…happy. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of my siblings like that.”
At her solemn voice, I frown, “How are you doing? After everything…”
Rebekah shrugs, “I’m fine. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be.”
Her dismissal has me frowning deeper, “Bekah, you’re mother died. I know that she tried to kill you but it doesn’t change the fact that she was still your mother.”
Rebekah looks at me but her face doesn’t betray how she’s really feeling, “I’m fine, Y/n. Finn was the mummy’s boy. I don’t give a damn about that woman.”
I nod but still don’t believe her, “Well if you ever do need to talk to someone. You can always call me.”
Rebekah eyes me for a moment skeptically, then nods, “I won’t need to but…thanks. I guess,” Her attention strays for a moment, “There is someone I need to go talk to. Goodbye, Y/n.”
“Bye, Rebekah.”
—
I pull into my driveway but feel a frown come over my face as I notice an unfamiliar expensive-looking black car in my usual parking spot.
I park beside it and hurry into the house, worrying about Theo.
“Theo! Are you okay-”
“So, both of you have your bananas, and these right here are condoms,” I turn the corner and my jaw drops as I see Theo holding up a banana and a Trojan condom. An unfamiliar sound comes out of my mouth when I look at the two figures sitting on the couch before him with bananas in their hands and annoyed looks on their faces. Klaus and Elijah.
“Theo what the hell are you doing?!?”
My yell of utter horror catches the three men’s attention.
“Oh, goody! Sister, I’m glad you’re here,” Theo drops his banana on the coffee table before Klaus and Elijah, a table that is covered in condoms and STD pamphlets, “After our little talk this morning I got to thinking and decided that if you and I aren’t going to talk about the elephants in the room, I’d just call up your boyfriends and have that chat with them myself.”
I stare wide-eyed at Elijah and Klaus, “And you both agreed to this?!?”
Elijah releases a deep sigh and Klaus glares at my little brother, “Your infant here called us and said we had to get over here because you were in danger.”
Theo raises his hands, “YES! In danger of catching a vampire STD.”
“Theo! Those don’t exist,” I screech at him.
“That’s exactly what we’ve tried to explain to him for the past 30 minutes, Elskan. For some reason, it isn’t sticking,” Elijah raises his head and shoots a dirty look at my brother.
“Thirty minutes!? You’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes letting my 16-year-old brother have the sex talk with you!?”
“Well, 15 of those minutes were filled with threats,” Klaus mutters.
I glare at him, “I thought I told you to stop threatening my brother.”
Klaus turns his glare onto me and raises his hands in exhaustion, “The threats were from him, Love! And they were quite imaginative.”
“Thank you, I’ve been working on them for a while now,” Theo smirks at Klaus, and the hybrid growls at him.
“Niklaus, please,” Elijah sighs.
Theo turns his attention back onto me, “Well now that you’re here,” He drags me over to a chair and pushes me down into, “I can finally give you the talk.”
“What talk,” Elijah asks confused.
Theo looks at him like he’s stupid, “The sex talk, dumbass. Since you,” He points to Elijah, “Like to spend the night in my sister’s bed without asking me permission. And you,” He points to Klaus, “Like to slobber all over her like the dog you are. I thought it would be a good idea to have this discussion before things move further. Now gentleman pick your bananas back up.”
“Theo! NO!”
Theo ignores me and smiles at Klaus and Elijah, who haven’t moved.
“One more dog joke out of you, Theodora and I swear I’ll-”
“Niklaus!”
Elijah and Klaus eye each other and Theo just stands there tapping his shoe on the hardwood floor.
“Theo go to your room, right now,” I stand up and glare at him, “We are not having this discussion right now…or ever!”
“But the vampire STDS!”
“Theodore there are no such things as vampire STDS! GO TO YOUR ROOM!”
My yelling has all three men looking at me wearily.
Theo raises his hands in surrender, “Ok, fine. Just trying to help.”
“And leave the condom here!”
Theo halts and turns back to the table and Klaus, Elijah, and I watch as Theo empties maybe 30 condoms from his jeans.
“Bloody hell,” Klaus mutters.
I glare at Theo as he skips out of the living room and down the hall to his room. As soon as I hear his door close I run a hand over my face.
“Elskan-”
I raise a hand stopping Elijah before he can continue.
“Nope. Whatever you’re going to say…just nope.”
“Well, I’m never going to look at a banana the same way,” Klaus’ says sarcastically and I’m silent for a moment before a loud laugh escapes my mouth.
I move my hands from my face and find Klaus smirking at me, and Elijah smiling softly at me with a bright look in his eyes.
“Why didn’t you both just leave,” I asked incredulously, “You two are the strongest and oldest creatures alive, and yet you stayed to have a teenage boy teach you how condoms work?!”
Klaus and Elijah side-eye each other.
Elijah stands from his seat and fixes his suit jacket, “When we heard that you were in danger we hurried over here as fast as we could…but when we came inside and found this,” He gestures to the table of condoms and bananas, “We were going to leave.”
“And then Theodora locked the door behind us and told us that if we didn’t sit down and shut up he’d never give us his approval. And then said that we can bet our asses that if we don’t have his approval, you’d never speak to us again. I of course told him to go to hell but my brother here sat down like the good boy he is,” Klaus says and rolls his eyes.
“And yet you’re still here,” Elijah mutters.
“So let me get this straight,” I look to both of them, “You endured Theo’s company for 30 minutes, just because you want his approval?!”
“If his approval means you accepting us…then of course we did.”
Klaus mutters something about Theo and daggers, but I ignore him.
“You really care that much?”
Klaus and Elijah both give me “Are you serious” looks.
“Love, I thought we made our thoughts about you quite known,” Klaus says as he stands, “We want you. Even if that means you come with a less than exceptional little brother as baggage.”
I snort at Klaus’ words and Elijah walks across the table and over to me, “There is nothing in this world I desire more than your company and happiness, Y/n. Please believe me when I say that.”
I feel my face heat up at the attention of the two men and I nod.
“I believe you.”
“Great,” Klaus says then pauses, “Also…I was just wondering what exactly was discussed by you and Theodora to warrant all of this,” He gestures to the table with a smirk.
Oh fuck.
#damon salvatore#klaus mikaleson imagine#klaus mikaelson#athenamikaelson#elijah mikaelson#thecwshows#klaus x reader#the originals#author#the vampire diares imagine#tvd klaus#klaus mikealson x reader#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson imagine#stefan x elena#elena gilbert#bonnie bennett#thevampirediaries#the vampire diaries#davina claire#damon salvatore imagine#kol mikaelson imagine#kol mikaelson icons#kol mikaelson x reader#caroline forbes#rebekah mikaelson
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Diamond Dolls | Joel x stripper!f!reader
Chapter I : Diamond Dolls Club
Series Summary: Running from the past led you straight into the arms of club owner, Joel Miller. He’s quiet, respectful, and devastatingly handsome. He’s nothing like any man you’ve come across, and it’s so hard to keep your heart guarded when he’s tearing down the walls. Chapter Summary: After fleeing Miami, you find yourself a spot at Diamond Dolls, and meet Joel Miller. The man who can change everything. Rating: 18+ Word Count: 7.2k Warnings: No-Outbreak AU, Joel is in his early 40s reader is in her mid-20s, mentions of alcohol, strip club setting, nudity, sexual tension, mutual pining, eventual smut, explicit language… more tags will be added as the story goes A/N: Well, a very belated hello to everyone! I've been in the darkest recesses of a writers block, and had to drag myself to the surface to finally finish this one out. It's a slow start, but it's something nonetheless. Anyway, love you all lots and i hope you stick around for this lil story <3 xoxo
Masterlist | Ko-Fi
One week ago
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. You were holed up in the bathroom of a shady hotel, listening to the sound of pleasured moans coming from the bedroom. Your friend, Diana, had been going at it with some stranger for the last half hour, and you were scared. Private parties were typical for the dancers. In fact, Richie loved it. He loved being the type of owner who showcased all his dancers in whatever way he pleased. But you knew something was off when you stepped out of the black Escalade and into the hotel lobby. This type of party differed from the rest; you had this nagging feeling it would all go wrong.
And it did.
**
The sound of heels rattling inside your bag drifted through the empty parking lot as you neared your last resort. Diamond Dolls. Your gas tank—and lack of money—only got you as far as Austin, Texas. It wasn’t an ideal place to end up, but beggars can’t be choosers, so it would have to suffice.
It was early afternoon, no doubt the slowest time of day since only a handful of cars were parked in the lot aside from yours. With the sun still shining, the neon pink lights of the sign above the door were turned off, but it still looked inviting. Diamond Dolls was already far different than your club back in Miami; it was different in a good way.
At least, you hoped it was.
Cracking open the front door, you shuffled your bag over your shoulder and took a deep breath. This was your only shot at putting your life back on track, and you prayed you’d be given the chance to set things right. You couldn’t go back to Miami. Not now…not ever. The bridges you burnt could never be rebuilt; running away would only take you so far.
A few patrons turned their heads your way when the sun streamed through the hazy club, no doubt an annoying reminder that the world still existed outside this tiny place. The entire club was drenched in low neon blacklights, the purple and pink hues painting the shadows in a sultry ambiance. Above you, diamond chandeliers hung from the ceiling, twinkling lights refracting off the gems that clung to the metal branches curving upward. The black leather couches around the stage were shiny and clean, another sign that this club was far better than where you came from.
High-top tables scattered the open areas in the club's corner, tiny tea lights flickering on their marbled counters. Everything was meticulously detailed, as if whoever owned it had put all their effort into making this space unique and beautiful.
Across the back was the bar; the counter stretched from end to end with an array of liquors stacked on glass shelves that hung from the wall. Behind the counter was a lone bartender busying himself with cleaning glasses.
Perfect, you thought. This was your opportunity.
“Hey,” you cautioned, walking up to the black countertop. “I was wondering if you guys are taking in any new dancers.”
“Can’t say for sure,” the bartender shrugged.
He had a snug black top stretched across his chest and dirty blonde hair that stuck back along his scalp with too much gel. A few tattoos marked up his forearms, disappearing under the cuffs of his shirt and reappearing along the column of his neck. Instinctively, you knew he was well paid by any female clients who came into the club late at night. A few drinks and maybe a few flirtatious conversations made him a wealthy man by the end of his shifts.
“Who should I be asking then?” You questioned, tapping your nails along the edge of the counter.
The bartender glared at your nails as they tapped repeatedly on the counter. You retracted your hand with an apologetic look, letting your arm hang heavy at your side. He bristled at your presence, obviously unamused by your friendly antics. Charm wouldn’t work here…noted.
“Joel’s up in his office. Why don’t y’go bother him.”
“Joel…” You echoed.
“The owner?” He cocked a brow, almost annoyed that you didn’t know who Joel was.
Obviously, you didn’t fucking know.
“Gotcha,” you nodded.
The bartender slung the drying rag over his shoulder, retiring the glass he had been cleaning to the other stack of dishes. He pointed down the hall near the stage toward the black-painted door to the right.
“You’ll find him in there,” he said.
You muttered a quick thank you before walking down the hall and past wandering eyes. Smoothing down your hair, you inhaled sharply before rapping your knuckles against the door.
“Come in!” A deep voice called out.
You timidly turned the doorknob, peeking your head around the door with a sheepish smile. An older man, probably no more than forty, leaned back in a leather chair. He had on a simple black button-up, the sleeves rolled up his tan arms, exposing the muscles and veins that spidered from his fingers to his biceps. You lifted your eyes to his face, brown scruff covering his jaw, small patches of gray threading through the wiry hair. His plush lips curved into a slight grin, his bottom one plush and pouty—a very dangerous thing to see when you realized he could potentially be your new boss.
“How can I help you?” He asked, clearing his throat.
Your eyes shot up to his, immediately pulled under the dark brown waves that swam through his irises. You expected the club owner to be less appealing, maybe even a bit sleazy, given your track record of who you’ve met in the business. You didn’t expect him to be this attractive.
You stepped over the threshold, unsure if you should shut the door behind you. You didn’t know Joel, nor could you trust him to be different from the other men you had encountered over the years. Despite your weariness, he motioned for you to shut the door and extended a hand toward the chair in front of his desk.
“I was, um, wondering if you were taking any new dancers?”
You didn’t mean to word it like a question, but your uncertainty got the best of you.
“Might be. Y’from here?” Joel asked, his southern drawl thick with each syllable.
You slid down into the chair, letting your bag drop to the ground by your feet. Joel tracked your movements, watching you squirm under his heavy stare while he waited for your response.
“Miami, actually. Just drove in this morning.”
“What brings ya’ to the Lone Star State?” He asked, a grin teasing the corners of his mouth.
“Family,” you lied a little too quickly.
Everything about being a dancer was a lie, and you weren’t about to change your ways for some owner you didn’t know. Joel stretched his arms over his head, his biceps flexing as he interlocked his fingers behind his neck. It should be a crime for someone to be this handsome; clearly, he knew what you were thinking because his lips twitched with an amused grin.
“Y’got experience in a club?”
“Yep,” you nodded. “Worked at my last one for three years.”
Joel’s eyes raked over you, lingering on your glossy lips and finally trailing back up to your eyes. Your skin flushed under his stare, your ears burning the longer he drank you in with slow, deliberate passes over your body as you crossed and uncrossed your legs behind the shield of his wooden desk.
“I’m assuming you’ll want to see me dance,” you said, filling the dead air between you.
“Not necessary.”
You stared at your hands in your lap, crestfallen. This had been your last resort, and you were down on your luck now. You barely had a hundred dollars in cash left in your wallet, and you told yourself it was for emergencies only. You weren’t even sure it was enough to cover more than a night's stay in a motel somewhere in town. There wasn’t anyone you could call. There was nowhere else to go.
A soft creak of his chair stirred you from your swirling thoughts, and you looked up to see Joel bracing his elbows on the desk. He was so much closer now, his age materializing into something softer as he studied you. Worry lines creased his forehead, smoothing out around his temples where his brown hair curled behind his ears. Even if this meeting was all for nothing, at least you got to enjoy a small glimmer of hope dressed as a beautiful Southern gentleman. You reached for your bag, ready to beeline it out the door and back to your car before you could make any more of a fool of yourself.
“I don’t need an audition, sweetheart,” he said softly.
You blinked up at him, both confused and hurt. He didn’t need to kick you while you were already down; he made it very clear you weren’t getting a spot in the club. You lifted your bag into your lap, shoving the chair back hard enough to make the legs scrape against the floor.
“I appreciate you taking the time to meet me. Have a good day.”
The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth, and they didn’t sound much better either, but you didn’t care. There was nothing for you here, and you needed to search for a place to stay before the day slipped away. Clinging to whatever dignity—and hope—you had left, you turned for the door without another glance over your shoulder.
“Wait.”
Joel’s voice radiated through the room as your hand hovered over the door handle. You half-considered dismissing him and continuing with your hopeless day, but a nagging voice inside your head told you to stay. Steeling your emotions, you turned to him with your arms folded over your chest.
“Come back at nine. You’ll be on stage tonight,” he offered, rising from his seat.
“What?” You balked. “You just told me you didn’t want to see me audition.”
Joel shoved his hands in the front pockets of his dress pants, his shoulders lifting slightly with a shrug. You waited for the other shoe to drop, for him to laugh in your face and shove you out the door. But there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his tone nor a look of deception in his soft eyes.
“I never ask my girls to audition,” he explained.
“Why? What if I’m bullshitting you?”
“I’ll find out if you are, but I got a feelin’ you won’t let me down.”
“Okay,” you nodded. “Well, thank you. I’ll see you tonight.”
Joel dipped his head toward you, his lips curving at the corners under his thick mustache. You were in deep shit, knowing you’d get to see that warm smile every day. With nothing left to say, you muttered another thank you and opened the door, disappearing into the hallway before he could retract his offer.
An upbeat tempo thrummed through the air as you passed by the stage, and you took a quick peek at the girl spinning on the pole, her blonde hair falling in a cascade of curls down her bare spine. The handful of patrons you had spotted coming into the club were now crowded around the stage, enthralled in her body as she moved to the rhythm of the music. Crisp dollar bills scattered the glass stage, falling at her feet as she lowered herself onto her knees. Your steps faltered as her eyes connected with yours, a friendly smile ghosting over her face before she returned to her routine. Digging through your bag, you reached for your wallet and dished out a couple of bills to toss onto the stage. It wasn’t much, and you knew better than to lessen your savings, but it was enough to show your respect for her hustle. She understood this life as much as you did.
**
You spent the better part of the afternoon driving around the city, familiarizing yourself with the sidestreets and small shops you would come to frequent. There hadn’t been much luck finding a place to stay for the night, but you hoped you’d have enough money after your shift to afford a room, at least for the weekend. You were more than ready to sleep anywhere that wasn’t your car and even more ready to have cash in your pockets again.
Anxious to start your first shift, you circled back to the club much earlier than Joel had asked. The sun was barely kissing the horizon as you put your car in park, the neon lights above the building flickering to life as the night swallowed the sky. You were two hours too early, but you didn’t want to wait any longer. You wanted to be on the stage now.
Searching through the bags of your belongings stuffed in the trunk of your car, you found your pile of club outfits and began piecing together different options to wear for the evenings. You laid out a matching pink lingerie set, the bra entirely rhinestoned in refractive colored jewels. It had done numbers on stage, a perfect outfit for making first impressions. You scoured for one more set—a just-in-case outfit—and found a thin, black lace teddy at the bottom of the pile. You could pair it with your taller heels and use it as your outfit for your second dance on stage. If you got that far. Everything else looked unappealing, but you’d have time and money to shop during the weekend for new clothes. New everything, if you were being honest. You were starting from the ground up in Austin.
As you tucked your clothes in your bag, you heard the sound of car keys jingling behind you. It was instinct to tense up at any noise in a parking lot, and your defenses were always up to foreign noises. Spinning quickly toward the sound, you came face to face with the same blonde you had seen on stage earlier in the day.
“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you!” She apologized.
“No, it’s okay,” you assured her, releasing a shaky breath.
She was wearing an oversized shirt and gym shorts, her feet stuffed in a pair of fuzzy blue slippers. With her hair pinned up and most of her makeup wiped off, you knew her shift was over.
“You must be the new girl Joel told us about. I’m Monica.”
She extended a hand toward you, and you quickly introduced yourself.
“Sorry, I probably look like a mess. I just got in today.”
Monica looked over your shoulder into the trunk of your car, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the mess. Everything left of your life was stuffed into only a few bags; it was embarrassing, to say the least.
“Do you have family in town you’re staying with?” She asked.
“I do,” you lied. “I just haven’t had time to stop by yet and drop my things off.”
Monica looked between you and your car, skepticism crossing over her features. Dancers were great at lying but even better at discovering one. She saw through you in less than a minute.
“Let me give you my number,” she offered, pulling her phone from her purse. “When you’re done for the night, just call me. I’ve got an extra room you can crash in for a couple of nights if you need it.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. That’s, um, that’s way too kind of you,” you stammered.
She bristled at your words, shoving her phone in your hands to exchange numbers. You typed with shaking hands, the numbers mixing up as you deleted and retyped repeatedly. Handing the phone back to her, you waited for a text to ping through the air, and it did.
You made your first friend in the new town and only hoped things wouldn’t end like they did in Miami.
“There’s plenty of girls still here for the night,” she started. “They’ll set you up in the dressing room and make sure you’re taken care of tonight. If anyone gives you hell, just tell them Monica’s looking out for you, and I’ll set them straight.”
You laughed softly at her gentle threat. You weren’t expecting such hospitality so quickly, but it was refreshing to know someone cared about you. After a few more minutes of casual conversation, she parted ways for the evening, and you were left standing in front of the neon lights beckoning you inside.
Showtime.
The crowd inside the club had doubled since you had left earlier in the afternoon; the couches and bar tops were littered with groups of men and women all drinking high-priced drinks and shadowed in plumes of smoke. Three bartenders worked behind the counter, their routine flowing together as they worked in tandem, taking orders and making drinks.
As you walked down the hallway by the stage, you noticed Joel’s door shut to the club. It confused you since the club was ramping up for the night; owners were usually out mingling with customers and dancers. You considered knocking on the door and thanking him again, but the thought passed just as quickly as it came, and you found your way to the dressing room.
The room's bright lights were stark in contrast to the rest of the club, and you had to squint your eyes to adjust to the sudden change. Only two girls occupied the room, working on their hair in front of the vanity. The second you entered their eyesight, they turned with wide grins.
“You’re the new girl!” One squealed, her brown curls bouncing around her shoulders as she ran up to you.
She quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, her heavy vanilla perfume floating around her body and onto yours.
“I’m Heather,” she said, pulling away. “And that’s Carolina.”
She gestured back to the other brunette, who gave you a shy wave. She was shorter than Heather, her hair cut into a sharp bob and streaked with caramel highlights. You waved back, introducing yourself to them both. Heather bounced back to the vanity, moving her array of makeup to the side to make room for your things.
“There are open lockers to the side over there, so feel free to stash away anything you need,” she explained. “If you need a curling iron or hairspray, you can always grab mine. And Carolina has extra body glitter, too, but I’m guessing you have your own.”
“Yeah, I’ve got some in my bag, but thank you. You guys are really sweet.”
You sat next to Carolina, dumping your makeup bag on the counter. Carolina worked at fixing her black nipple pasties, both of them on display under her sheer red bra. Her curves filled out her mini-skirt, the red material matching both her bra and Pleaser heels. She was fiery; you liked that.
“Joel said you’re from Miami,” Heather started. “This has got to be way less exciting than your old club, huh?”
You tensed up at her question, deciding on what to divulge. Heather and Carolina were sweet, but they were still strangers, and after last week…your guard was higher than ever. Pulling out your foundation and eyeshadow, you quickly started your makeup routine, dodging any invasive questions they tried to ask.
“How long have you both been working here?” You asked, flipping the focus onto them.
Heather fluffed her hair in the mirror, adjusting her purple halter top over her breasts before turning back to you.
“I’ve been here since Joel opened the club, so almost five years,” she stated.
“And I’ve been here for a little over a year,” Carolina said beside you.
“How is Joel?” You asked. “As an owner.”
Heather and Carolina let out a little giggle, clearly something private between them that went unsaid in response to your question.
“We like to say he’s like a recluse,” Carolina explained. “He hardly ever comes around during business hours. He just stays quiet and tucked away in his office. We pay him house fees at the end of our shift, and he leaves us alone.”
That piqued your interest. How could a club owner be so hands-off? Or maybe this was normal, and everything you had experienced in Miami was incredibly unprofessional. It was unprofessional, but you only assumed parts of it were like having your boss pimp you and other girls out for drugs and money.
“Isn’t that weird, though? I mean, most club owners don’t do that. They’re usually—.”
“Creepy and a bit unsettling?” Heather offered.
You nodded slowly, focusing on yourself in the mirror as you lined your lips with a pink lip liner.
“Joel isn’t like that, I promise you. He’s probably the most respectful man I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t even think he’s seen our tits,” Carolina giggled. “I can’t even tell you the last time I saw him outside his office during a shift.”
You shuffled off the vanity chair, returning to your bag to pull out your first outfit. As you peeled your shirt off, you mused over their casual information on Joel. You couldn’t make sense of it; how was Joel real? He must be too good to be true. He had to be.
“But how does he know what’s going on around here?” You pressed.
“His brother, Tommy, comes around, checks in on us, and reports to Joel if there’s anything worth knowing,” Heather shrugged.
“That’s it?”
“Yep!” Both of them said in unison.
Carolina strolled to one of the lockers behind you, retrieving a red garter from her back to tie around her ankle. You eyed her as she tightened the straps of her heels and adjusted her bra one last time. As she flounced to the door, she looked over her shoulder and gave you a slight wink.
“You’ll be just fine here, doll. I promise.”
The moment your heels clicked against the glass floor of the stage, everything in your mind turned off. You gave the DJ— Bradley, call me Brad, doll— your music of choice before stepping onto the stage: a slow, sensual track that made the crowd turn their heads in curiosity. Until then, Heather and Carolina had taken turns onstage doing routines to high-tempo songs, keeping the crowd engaged and rowdy. But that wasn’t your forte.
You started things slowly, wrapping your hand around the pole and teasing the crowd with meticulous movements of your body that swayed to the beat of the music. Your fingers teased the outline of your breasts, cupping them seductively as you made eye contact with a few men sitting near the edge of the stage. Their undivided attention on your body was exhilarating; the promise of money dropping at your feet was enough to keep you going. Hooking your leg around the pool, you pulled yourself up, spinning in gentle turns as you flowed with the music. Everything you did was unrushed, and you took your time commanding the stage.
Eventually, the tips started piling up on the stage. More clients drew closer, their eyes hungry and watchful. You slid onto your knees, crawling toward a younger man who hovered by the side of the stage, his button-up shirt disheveled and wrinkled—no doubt from a private dance he paid for only an hour ago. You graced him with an inviting smile, swaying your ass back and forth behind you.
“Hi, beautiful,” he crooned, his voice barely audible above the thrum of the music.
“Hey, sweetheart,” you replied.
You knew how to bait them and make them chase after you. The thrill of it all was intoxicating, like the world was a blur around you, and all that existed was just the stage, the money, and your ability to make men crumble at your feet. Dragging yourself onto your knees, you coasted a hand down your abdomen, grinning as he tracked your fingers as they dipped over your navel. The money roll in his hand caught your attention, but you refrained from staring too long. Eye contact was crucial—if you kept him reeled in, the money would come to you.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” You asked, breathless.
“More than you know.”
He curled a finger, beckoning you closer. You didn’t like when clients reached for you, but you saw the crisp fifty-dollar bill hiding in his palm. Like a moth to a flame, you drew closer to the edge of the stage, letting his fingers work at the waistband of your thong. He didn’t prod or explore; his touch was respectful and gentle. Blowing him a kiss, you tucked the money under the thin fabric before returning to the center of the stage to finish your set.
The music drifted to an end, the applause from the crowd around the stage rippling above the sound as the DJ returned to his playlist of choice. You gathered the tips off the stage floor, stuffing them into your moneybag as you left your set.
For some strange reason, you were disappointed to see Joel’s office door shut off to the club despite Heather and Carolina’s words. You understood he didn’t come out during business hours, but part of you wished he had watched your first routine. Wasn’t he curious? And why did you care to have him watch you perform? It wasn’t like you were trying to impress him…Okay, maybe you were…
Passing the DJ booth, Brad gave you a proud smile and a small congratulations. You hurried back into the dressing room, frantic to change into your next outfit. Heather lounged along the benches in front of the locker, her nails tapping against her phone screen as she typed furiously.
“Ugh!” She exhaled. “Men suck.”
You giggled as you plopped beside her, enjoying the simple camaraderie of being in another sisterhood with other dancers. You missed your girls in Miami, but that wouldn’t stop you from making new friends. And from what you’d already experienced in your short few hours at Diamond Dolls, these girls were genuine and caring.
“Who’s the guy?” You asked.
“His name is Michael. We’ve been seeing each other on and off the past year, and he’s just… I don’t know. I feel like I give all my time and energy and get nothing in return. You know what I mean?”
“I do.”
You knew it too well. You had never been lucky in relationships; they were messy, and it was hard to come across a man who truly understood your field of work. Some of them loved the idea of having someone overly sexualized and, in their words, slutty. They considered every stripper to be the stereotypical version of a woman, all glitz and glam and naked on display. You were more than that, but none stuck around long enough to find out.
“Can I give you some advice?” You offered.
Heather stopped her typing, giving you her full attention.
“Men don’t deserve shit. If he’s not going to give his time and dedication to you, then he doesn’t deserve an ounce of your respect. You’re worth more than that. You deserve someone who will treat you like a queen.”
“Those types of men don’t exist,” she laughed. “They’re all sleazy and just want their dick wet.”
“I don’t know. I think there could be some good ones out there.”
Unwanted images of Joel flashed through your mind. There was no way you actually were thinking of him in this setting. You knew nothing about him or the type of man he was, so you couldn’t let your mind wander to the thought of him as a love interest, nor did you want that. He was a stranger and your boss.
“Well, if you find one, send him my way.”
“Absolutely,” you smiled.
As you both sat in comfortable silence, you worked at sorting through your wad of cash from your set. Smoothing out the bills and organizing them, you counted out over two hundred dollars. Not the best for your first routine in the club, but it was more than you had walked in with. And it was enough to hopefully find a place to stay over the weekend. However, Monica’s offer still remained in the back of your head.
It was well past three AM when you decided to call it quits for the night. After two more sets on stage, you collected another four hundred dollars, leaving you satisfied for your first shift. Clients were generous, and the atmosphere inside the club was intoxicating. You wanted more, but you wouldn’t be greedy. Not yet, at least.
After peeling off your clothes and replacing them with the sweats you had walked in with, you said your goodbyes to the girls and made your way to Joel’s office. A flight of butterflies swarmed in your stomach as your hand wavered over the door. Why did he make you so nervous? You were never nervous around men; you were usually quite the opposite. But Joel…You couldn’t get a read on him. You didn’t know what to expect, which made it so much worse.
“Hi,” you said quietly, softly cracking the door open.
You peered into the office, spotting Joel hunched over the desk, rifling through some papers. He glanced up quickly, his eyes shifting back down to the papers…Then, immediately right back up to you. You didn’t miss how his gaze drifted down your body, the hunger flickering to life behind his irises. You were in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but you might as well have been naked with the way he undressed you with his heavy stare.
Your name fell softly from his lips, his mouth curving up in that same grin you melted over earlier.
“Heard you were the star of the show tonight,” he smiled.
“I don’t know about that,” you laughed.
Sliding into the office, you shut the door behind you, leaving only a few feet of space between you and Joel’s large frame. Somehow, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his gravity pulling you forward.
“No need to be modest, sweetheart. Everyone was talkin’ ‘bout you out there.”
“How do you know that? The girls told me you stay in here all night.”
Joel leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. He wore that snug black button-up, and the soft material still deliciously clung to his muscles. His biceps flexed under the shirt, and you trained your eyes on him to keep the temptation of looking at bay.
“Don’t worry, I hear everythin’ inside this club. Got eyes and ears everywhere.”
“How’d you get into the business?”
“That’s a story for another time, sweetheart. It’s late, and I’m sure y’wanna get home,” he chuckled.
A mystery. That's what Joel was: an absolute mystery. You couldn’t dig under his walls, and you sure as hell wouldn’t let him dig under yours. If he kept his life close to his chest, then you’d do the same.
“What’s your price for house fees?” You asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Flat rate of twenty dollars. You can tip out the bartenders and Brad if y’want, but I pay them well enough that y’don’t have to worry ‘bout it.”
“Twenty?” You gaped.
His brows furrowed together, trying to understand your shock. You pulled a twenty from your money bag and walked toward his desk to slide it to him.
“They charge you less in Miami?” He questioned, reluctant to take the money.
“No, it’s not that. They charged a lot more…Like over a hundred some nights.”
It was Joel’s turn to stare at you dumbfounded; his lips parted in confusion. Wasn’t it normal for house fees to be that high? Or had you been lied to all these years?
“You’re fuckin’ with me, right?”
“I swear I’m not. That’s what the club owner charged us down there.”
Joel ran a hand down his face, his eyes squeezing shut. You swayed awkwardly, your fingers digging into the material of your money bag.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized. “Didn’t mean to cuss at you like that. Just surprised me, that’s all.”
“It’s okay,” you replied quietly.
“M’gonna take real good care of you here, ‘kay?”
His words shouldn’t have affected you, but heat crawled up your neck as you tossed his words over inside your head. Once again, Joel was proving to be far different than what you were used to back in Miami, but you wouldn’t let yourself overthink it.
“Thank you, Joel. I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t gotta thank me none, sweetheart. Y’get home safe. I’m sure your family will be happy to see you.”
You cringed at the statement, another reminder of the web of lies you were already weaving. You’d tell him the truth eventually, or maybe not at all. You wouldn’t jeopardize your chance at a new life here.
Joel’s eyes did one final pass over your body, and your anxiety nearly drove you right into the door when you turned to leave. He needed to stop looking at you like that. You didn’t need any more fuel to the fire burning inside your stomach.
**
You spent far too long hovering your finger over Monica’s contact information, debating whether or not to take up her offer of a place to stay. You had enough money for a hotel room, but the idea of saving it and tucking it away sounded more appealing. You didn’t know Monica— or any of these girls— but her willingness to help you earlier proved how loyal these dancers were to one another.
Dialing her number, you tapped your fingers against your steering wheel, watching through your dirty windshield as patrons filed out for the night. You wondered which of these cars belonged to Joel and promptly stopped yourself from wondering about anything else. Why was every thought beginning and ending with him?
“Hello?”
“Hi, uh… Monica?” You reintroduced yourself, stumbling over your words like it was your first time speaking.
“Look who made it out alive in her first shift!” She said cheerily. “I’ll shoot you my address, and you can drive over. I’ve already got the guest bedroom set up for you.”
“Are you sure? I really don’t want to intrude on you.”
“Oh, don’t be silly! You’re not intruding at all, honey. I’ve got the house to myself this weekend and could use the company.”
“I really appreciate it, Monica. Thank you.”
The city was nothing like Miami at night; the streets were empty, and the air was silent and calm. You kept the volume low on the radio as you drove to Monica’s house, enjoying the sound of the breeze as it drifted through the crack in your window. You focused on learning the street names as you passed every intersection, replacing the thoughts of Joel’s warm smile with things that would prove to be more important to you. But the memory of his eyes and smile still lurked in your mind, and no matter how many green lights you sped through, you couldn’t escape it.
Monica’s home was tucked away in a residential neighborhood nearly half an hour outside the city, her tiny home the only one with a porch light still flickering under the dark sky.
You barely opened your trunk when you heard Monica’s voice trailing down the driveway.
“Hi!” She squealed.
You turned to find her bounding down the pavement barefoot, her blonde hair tousled into a high ponytail and her pajamas hugging her curves. Setting your bag on the ground, you emptied your arms to welcome her into a hug, which should have felt awkward given you had hardly known her less than a full day, but with Monica…It felt normal.
“Thank you again,” you exhaled, your body slumping into her tight embrace.
“Oh, don’t even mention it. My ex has the kids this weekend, so the place is extra lonely.”
“You’ve got kids?” You asked.
It wasn’t an accusatory question; you had danced alongside several women who were single moms supporting their children. Not to mention, Monica looked way too young to have kids, let alone more than one.
“I’ve got two,” she explained with a tired smile. “Twins, actually. Jackson and Luke. They just turned three in June.”
You shuffled your overnight bag over your arm while Monica led the way to the front door. The moment she opened the door, you were welcomed into a very lived-in home. Kid's toys littered the ground, while mismatched socks and shoes lay around in other spots. You smiled to yourself, seeing such a cozy place; you missed being in a home. Living in shady apartments and hotels left you bitter and yearning for somewhere to call home.
“Sorry it’s such a mess,” she laughed absentmindedly. “The boys tend to destroy any clean area in the house.”
“You don’t have to apologize at all. I love it.”
She glanced back at you, quirking an eyebrow at your statement. It was true; you did love it. And you loved being welcomed into a home without feeling like a total burden. Monica gave you a small tour of the house before guiding you down the hall to the guest room. It was set up with a queen-sized bed and a small vanity in the corner—perfect for a night or two to get you back on your feet.
Once settled in, you returned to the living room, where Monica was lying on the couch.
“Thank you so much again,” you said, collapsing into the cushions.
“Of course, girl. I tend to be the motherly one out of the group, so if you ever need anything, you can always come to me. How was the first night?”
You stretched your legs out along the sectional, burrowing further into the pillows as you let your body unwind. Monica mimicked your movements, curling up under the small blanket draped over her body.
“I didn’t know what to expect,” you admitted. “Being in a new club is always scary, you know? But everyone has been so welcoming, and the customers are great. And Joel is…” You trailed off, biting your lip.
“Joel is what?” Monica pressed, giggling slightly.
“He’s amazing. I’ve never met a club owner like him. He really cares about all of you girls, and it shows. I’m not used to that.”
“You had it bad out there in Miami, huh?”
You shifted slightly, trying to mask your unease with the question. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Monica; she hadn’t given you a reason yet not to, but the question was too fresh to answer. Glimpses of that night suspended themselves in your head, moments you couldn’t shake and only hoped you’d never have to relive. Everything you saw… everything you did… you wanted to forget.
“Is it alright if we don’t talk about it?” You asked, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap.
“Of course, honey,” Monica said softly. “Whatever happened out there, just know it’s in the past, and you’re okay now. You’re safe here with me. I’ll take care of you, and so will Joel.”
Joel.
Everything kept circling back to him. He was an enigma dressed in all black with a warm smile and a country twang. You were used to men being nice; they almost always had an ulterior motive for their kindness, but not Joel. His kindness wasn’t self-fulfilling, as far as you knew, and you could see how serious he was about the safety of everyone in the club. Maybe things would turn out differently here; maybe things would be okay.
The early morning sunlight slowly began to seep through the living room curtains as you and Monica fell into endless conversation. Eventually, she mumbled something about needing a few hours of sleep before needing to run errands, and you took it as your sign to retire to bed. As you settled under the covers, you forced your mind away from the wandering thoughts of Miami. It was easy to forget everything that had transpired in the hotel room when you kept yourself busy, but in the silence, there was nowhere to run from the memories.
“Alright, which one of you are we fucking first?” One of the guys asked.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, undoing his belt, as he asked the question. Your stomach rolled with nausea as the realization hit you; Richie had pimped you out. This wasn’t a party; this was a setup. You swayed in the corner of the room, eyeing the door to figure out how to escape without being snatched up by one of the men. But there were too many of them and just the three of you to try and fend for yourselves. What did it matter, though, when your two closest friends were already drugged out of their minds?
You couldn’t have slept more than one or two hours. The sun was too bright inside the bedroom, and your body was coated in a thin sweat as you jolted from the bed. You were safe. You were in Texas. You were at Monica’s house. You repeated those reminders as you rolled out of bed and entered the guest bathroom. The reflection in the mirror felt like a stranger; your eyes puffy and your face pale.
“You’re okay,” you whispered to yourself.
Splashing cold water on your face, you took a few minutes to gather your bearings. The days spent on the road running from Miami were catching up to you, and so was the anxiety that you had kept at bay.
“Hey!” Monica called from somewhere down the hall.
You braced yourself against the bathroom sink, swallowing the startled gasp that threatened to bubble out of your mouth.
“I’m headin’ out to the grocery, so if you want me to grab anything for you, just shoot me a text! I left breakfast on the kitchen counter for whenever you’re hungry,” she continued.
“T–Thank you!” You stuttered.
Dammit, you were okay.
You waited until you heard the sound of the front door closing before emerging from the bathroom. In your slim hours of sleep, Monica had cleaned up the house from the night before. Toys were piled in small bins beside the couch, and the miscellaneous clothes and shoes had disappeared, most likely to their respective places in the laundry or kids' bedroom.
The lingering smell of breakfast led you into the kitchen, where a plate of eggs and bacon sat neatly on the counter. Monica was truly a godsend, and knowing you were in good hands settled some nerves. Settling onto the kitchen barstool, you inhaled the aroma of the plate of food and reached for the fork. Your hand wavered as you spotted a piece of paper tucked under the plate's corner, dainty handwriting scribbling across the note.
In case you need it, here’s Joel’s number.
You stared at the series of numbers before you, your throat dry. Joel. The man that was giving you a second chance at this life you had decided to live. Joel. The man with a kind heart and even kinder eyes. Joel.
The one person who could change everything.
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel x stripper!reader#joel miller x stripper!reader#joel miller tlou#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel x f!reader#joel x female reader#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au
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convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)
summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store
warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness
genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer
a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.
“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.
a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.
you also had no idea who william blake was.
“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.
“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”
maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.
you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”
“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”
“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.
“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,
“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”
“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.
“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”
“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”
she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.
you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.
you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.
“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”
he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.
“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.
it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.
“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.
spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,
“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”
emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.
“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”
“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.
“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.
spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”
you were not just someone.
“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”
“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.
“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”
you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.
“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.
“no, this is fine.”
this? them? you thought this man was articulate.
you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.
“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.
it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.
“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”
you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.
“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.
you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.
“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”
there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.
the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.
she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.
“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.
“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.
he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.
“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”
you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”
logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.
“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”
spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.
all you have to do is talk.
spencer is great at talking.
“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”
it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.
“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.
“spencer-“
“dude just ask her out.”
spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,
“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.
logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.
you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.
you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.
you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.
“$2.50.” you grumble.
you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.
“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”
“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”
you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.
“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”
logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”
“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”
you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”
the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.
“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.
suddenly your apartment felt lonely.
so did spencer’s.
he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.
“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”
“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.
“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”
spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.
“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”
“you mentioned that, lover boy.”
pt.4
taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker
#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#cm#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid series
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bf jj and virgin reader doing it for the first time !!!!!
he literally just baby's her without belittling her because he knows she dosent fw vulnerability like that
i got you babe.
pairing — jj maybank x fem!virgin!reader
word count — 2.0k
warnings — smut minors dni, loss of virginity, p in v, protected sex, fingering, oral (f rec), fluff, aftercare.
synopsis — jj is nothing but a sweetheart during your first time, and it’s everything you could’ve imagined and more.
notes — i love this idea he would be so sweet and tender and just so perfect for ur first time
you were nervous. you obviously trusted jj more than anything but it didn’t help ease the anxiety that was building inside of you. you didn’t want to look like a fool or ruin anything with jj.
but it had been nearly 3 months of your relationship and the most you’d done together is some under the clothes groping and grinding, leaving each of you to go home and finish yourselves off.
jj would never pressure you into anything, or look at you differently for taking your time, he understands how fragile virginity is and how you want your first time to be special, but he can’t help but leave each heated make-out session feeling more desperate than the last time.
you’ve thought about it all week and you’re sure that tonight is the night. it’s his birthday and you want to make it even more special.
he opens the silver chain you gifted him, eyes going wide at the gesture, “holy shit, babe! where did you get the dough for this thing?”
“nunya,” you flash a grin at him, heart fluttering at how excited he is to put it on. “you like it?”
“baby i love it,” he looks like a child in a candy shop, “it’s fuckin’ awesome.”
“good, i’m glad,” you hum proudly. setting the scene is going better than you’d imagined. jj sits on your couch, expecting that to be the only gift he’d receive. with his birthday being january 14th, you picked out a couple of new hoodies for him since his other ones were getting extra ratty from overuse (and from him dropping the blunt on himself nearly every time he smoked).
you pull out two mid-sized gift bags from the side of the couch and hand them to him.
“holy- more gifts? how much did you spend?” jj gapes at you, eyes full of concern and a bittersweet happiness at how much you’re willing to go out of your way for him.
“i’m not telling you!” you huff out playfully, “open it!”
he rips the tissue paper from the first bag, discarding it to the side of him before pulling out the first hoodie. it’s a light teal-blue, with the ron jon surf shop logo on the back. “dude this is sick!” he flips it over to look at the front, noticing a tinier version of the logo on the heart.
“now open this one,” you grin, knowing he’d love this one even more.
he pulls it from the bag next, revealing a black hoodie, his favorite album plastered across the front, the artist’s tour dates and locations listed on the back. “no way!!”
“yes way,” you can’t stop smiling at this point, knowing that this is genuinely the happiest he’s been since you’ve met him. “happy birthday my sweet boy,” you lean towards him, giving him a kiss.
he leans into it, hands immediately coming up to grip you face, one resting on your cheek and the other resting in your hair toward the back of your head.
you embrace the kiss even more, allowing him to slip his tongue against yours as you nervously clamber onto his lap. you’re in a flowy mini skirt and long sleeve button up. he’s adorned in the brand new silver chain, a cut-off sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts.
you let your fingers glide down his chest slowly, nails dragging against the fabric before lifting at the bottom to pull it over his head.
he falters for a moment, looking at you curiously, “whatcha doin, baby?”
“i’m ready, jay,” your nervousness is plastered across your face but you mean it. you’re ready to go to the next level with him. and tonight’s the night.
“you sure? you don’t have t-“
“-i’m positive baby.”
“if you change your mind at all no matter how far we get just say the word, okay?” he raises his brows at you expectantly, a thousand percent serious in his words.
“okay,” you flutter your lashes.
“you promise you’ll tell me if you fell uncomfortable in the slightest?”
“pinky swear,” you hold your pinky out, heart beating in your chest as he wraps his own pinky around it, locking in the promise.
he uses the linked finger to pull you back closer to him kissing you as his hands then moving to rest on your thighs, thumbs massaging the interior while you begin grinding yourself on top of him lightly.
you begin feeling more sure of yourself, your hands gliding around jj’s pecs and biceps, “you’re so hot.”
“speak for yourself, y/n,” he breathes against your lips, cheeks flushed with need.
you moan softly when his hands slide up underneath your skirt, gripping at your ass roughly.
at this point, you’re dripping and you could care less about the slow foreplay. “i want it,” you whine quietly, your hands lingering at the zipper on his cargo shorts.
“you sure you can handle it?” he’s half-joking, of course.
“positive,” you nod quickly, “please baby?”
he groans through his teeth at the neediness in your voice, opting to flip you onto your back, gently resting your head against the arm rest of the couch. “you wanna move to the bed or stay here?”
“i don’t care,” you shrug, mind clouded with lust.
“pick one baby,” he replies, voice smooth and steady.
“mmm,” you begin thinking, “bed.”
he nods as he scoops you into his arms, letting your legs wrap around him, his hands supporting your weight as they grip your ass.
he lies you down at the head of the bed, resting you atop the comforter and your favorite pillow. he bites his lip in anticipation as he unbuttons and unzips his shorts, slipping them off and launching them across the room.
he spreads your legs slowly, eyes flitting back up to meet your nervous gaze, looking for your assurance before moving any further. you give him a quick nod, holding your breath as he slips your skirt off, his fingers gliding against the edge of your panties.
he unbuttons your shirt from the bottom up, opting to leave it on as your chest and lacy bra is exposed. he breathes heavily at the sight of you, eyes wide and full of lust almost fully exposed for him. his dick is on the verge of bursting out of his boxers, tip leaking and as needy as you feel in this moment.
his muscles are detailed, flexing and unflexing with each movement he makes.
jj leans down to kiss you again, one arm steadying himself next to your head, the other hand rubbing your sopping wet pussy through your panties. the sensation makes you moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up slightly toward him. he takes that as his cue to slip his hand under your panties, groaning at the wetness pooling between your lips. he gathers some of it at the tip of his fingers, trailing it back up to your clit before swirling them around the sensitive button.
your eyes flutter at the feeling, one hand flying up to the back of his head as you tug at his hair roughly. “fuck,” you whisper, head flying back. “feels so good baby.”
he continues the motion for a few more moments before slipping a finger inside of you, kissing you as he does it. he glides it in and out a few pumps before adding another finger, his lips trailing down to your neck as he licks and bites the sensitive area. he continues that, hooking his fingers up inside of you as he pumps, watching intently as you moan and gasp, head thrown back against the pillow, one hand gripping his bicep as the other grasps at the comforter below you.
jj slips the panties off you, readjusting himself so that his face rests just above your glistening pussy. “she’s so pretty, baby.”
you blush at his statement, hands roving around his wavy locks as he begins lightly licking and kissing your sensitive area. you gasp at the new sensation, fingers yanking at his hair. “fuck, that’s,” you groan when he starts full-force kissing and sucking at your pussy, his tongue drawing shapes along your clit. “oh my god.”
he hums, one hand grasping his dick as the other holds your thighs apart, the vibration bringing you nearly to the edge of an orgasm. at that, he stops, leaving you to whimper at the loss of the sensation, the edging only making you want him more. “why’d you stop?” you whine desperately.
“because i wanna feel you cum around my dick, baby,” he pulls the boxers off, watching as your eyes go wide at the sight of his member, veiny and rock solid, his tip leaking needily as he reaches for his wallet on your nightstand, pulling a condom from one of the pockets. he quickly rips it open then glides it over his dick. “you ready, angel?”
you nod quickly, “i need it, jay.”
“whatever you want, sweet girl,” he positions himself back between your legs, his chain dangling in front of your face for a moment before he begins kissing down the side of your neck as he guides himself to your opening expertly. you hold your breath as he inches himself inside, fingernails cutting into his biceps.
he goes extremely slow at first, inching in and out to get you used to him before going to town.
the first time he bottomed out inside you, you jumped, letting out a yelp, causing him to quickly pull out and look at you with concern. “you okay?”
“yea, i jus- it was a lot,” you fail to meet eye contact with him, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.
he grips your chin softly but firmly, forcing you to look at him, “hey. don’t feel embarrassed baby, let me know if i’m hurting you, it’s supposed to feel good, alright? remember our promise? i’m not gonna judge you for any of this. ever.”
you gaze at him for a moment, eyes full of love and tenderness. you nod and pull him back closer, this time using your own hand to guide him inside of you. you kiss him lovingly, teeth clashing together and tongues gliding in and out. it’s perfect, truly. you couldn’t have imagined someone better to have your first time with, and you’re beyond grateful that it’s someone as kind and nurturing as jj.
once he finds a groove that you both can enjoy, he begins going to town, thrusting in and out, leaving you clawing at his back.
“oh my god, jj you feel so good holy shit,” you cry out, face buried in the crook of his neck.
he groans, throwing his head back, “that pussy feels so fucking good, angel, you have no idea.”
he continues thrusting, watching you intently as your eyes begin rolling back, fingers clawing even deeper while your legs start closing in tightly around him. “that’s it, baby, lemme feel you cum around me.”
you let yourself revel in the feeling, the world around you disappearing for a moment while he groans, unable to stop himself from cumming with you. you feel him nut into the condom inside of you, pussy tingling at the sensation.
he holds his position for a moment, unmoving as you each catch your breath, just gazing at each other.
“wow,” you breathe out in awe, just beginning to get your normal headspace back. “that was awesome.”
jj chuckles, “glad you enjoyed, baby girl. i’m here anytime you wanna do it again,” he winks at you slyly.
you grin, wincing slightly as he pulls out. you watch him lovingly as he saunters to the bathroom for a moment to pee and dispose of the condom, heart fluttering when he returns with a damp washcloth to clean you up with.
he cleans you up before picking out a comfy set of underwear and pajamas and tucking you in under the blanket. he pulls you onto his chest after throwing his own boxers back on, his chest warm and comfier than ever.
“i love you,” you whisper, head resting atop his heart.
“i love you, sweet girl,” he kisses the top of your head as he scrolls through various streaming sites, looking for something good to watch.
“happy birthday baby,” you give him a brief squeeze.
“best birthday ever,” he huffs back, hand rubbing your back softly.
-> back to masterlist
taglist — @rubiehart
#jj maybank#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank smut#jj maybank fanfic#jj maybank fanfiction#outerbanks#outerbanks smut#outerbanks fluff#outerbanks fanfic#outerbanks fanfiction#obx#obx fanfic#obx smut#obx fluff#obx fanfiction#outer banks#outer banks fluff#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfic#outer banks fanfiction#☀️ poguelandia
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FORMULA 1
PAIRING race car driver!lee mark x fem!reader
WORDS 3.5k
SYNOPSIS mark just looks too good to resist after his race.
WARNINGS explicit sexual content (too lazy to add deets), car sex, fluff, friends with benefits, they’re in denial lol
NOTES my first fic on tumblr <3 my bb
You spot Mark across the airport track.
Sitting in his newly acquired Nissan Skyline GT-R 34, one arm hangs out of the window. He lifts the same arm to bring a cigarette to his lips, the cloud of smoke seemingly following in slow motion. His hair damp due to the forgotten rain from the hour before. The same cherry red hair, now longer and styled, no longer covering his forehead. A piece dangling in front of his eyes.
Individuals began dispersing now that the race had ended. Of course, Mark was the first to cross the finish line. He always was.
You often attended his races but not solely for him. The people were always friendly, and any kind of race was exhilarating to watch. The cars maneuver between each other, attempting to avoid collision. If anyone of the racers tried to pull a trick and it went wrong, it would turn into something much scarier than a race.
You loved watching him race, even more, the activities afterward. You two weren’t by any means exclusive, but the both of you hadn’t been with anyone else since meeting each other. People could call it a situationship. Some label it as friends with benefits. Whatever it was, Mark’s texts were what you looked forward to late into the night. But today, he texts you earlier than usual.
ML: Enjoying the view?
ML: I know I am
You scoff, looking back up and immediately locking eyes with him. A smirk adorning his smug face.
ML: Come here.
You: I’m not gonna run to you like a dog. You come here.
ML: Baby don’t be like that
You: Stopped by to watch ur race. It’s over now, so I’m leaving
You: Bye
Not sparing him another glance, you make your way off the track. Feeling his eyes on you, your hips sway with every step. The denim mini-skirt you chose to wear rides up, and the backless top reveals the perfect amount of skin as Mark's eyes are glued to your figure.
People are standing outside their cars, talking, eating, the usual at car meets. It’s almost like a tailgate before a football game. The atmosphere was always welcoming and it was easy to make acquaintances that could turn into close friends.
There’s one every week, and having gone to them for the past 2 months, there are many familiar faces. You’ve even made close friends with Ningning, another racer, who you bonded with due to her beating Mark in a race when they were still rookies.
There’s Jaemin too, who you met through Ningning. He always greets you with a smile, his eyes staying on yours a little too long after every response.
Your conversations with Jaemin never last longer than five minutes with Mark always making up an excuse for you to leave. And when you finish protesting to Mark, you look back, and Jaemin is already 20 feet away, grabbing another plate of food with Ningning.
You’d like to think Mark gets jealous. Maybe he does, but then, you remind yourself of the mutual agreement of ‘no strings’ and remember he couldn’t be. So you push any second thoughts in the back of your mind.
Unlocking your car, your fingers are wrapped around the handle when another hand grabs ahold of your wrist, spinning you around to your back.
The cold exterior of the car hitting your bare back causes goosebumps to appear all over your body.
You’re met face-to-face with Mark. He is so close you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning your face while his lower body is completely pressed up against you. He’s got you trapped in between his arms; his hands placed flat onto the hood of the vehicle.
“Leaving so soon?”
You smirk at his inquiry, knowing he always gives in.
“Just came by to watch the race. The race is over, isn’t it?” Your nonchalant response comes out softer than intended, but he doesn’t see through you.
Mark doesn’t utter a word while you continue with the act. His dark orbs stare into yours and scan down, stopping at the stained lips in front of him. Before disrupting the silence, he uses his thumb to smear the lipstick at the corner of your lips outward. “I prefer your lipstick messy,” he says softly.
All you do is continue to look into his eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards. His small meaningless comments have been igniting a fuzzy feeling in your chest lately. Even if it was playful.
You know what this means.
I don’t even want to think about it.
There was a mutual agreement, and you swore never to break it. But can one control it? If this unspoken feeling was true, you couldn’t bring yourself to end it, but your chest feels heavier every second you’re by his side. The walls you put up to protect yourself seem to crack a little more each time, worsening as you realize he doesn’t seem to have the same internal battles.
You think to yourself how it fucking sucks but suppress it because you’ll live.
Mark notices you’re thinking about something as your eyes dance around his face. He wants to ask you what it is that has you daydreaming, but he seizes the opportunity to admire you. You’re so beautiful. He wants to tell you, but you both know it crosses boundaries. The word was mutually agreed as too intimate, but it’s at the tip of his tongue. The urge to compliment you, to text you in the day rather than the middle of the night, to spend more time with you, he yearns for more. But you always play along with his games and seem content with what you both have now, so he doesn’t do anything to catch you off guard. It’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest when he sees you smile. This feeling is foreign to him, but Mark welcomes it.
“Wow, you have a way with words Mark Lee,” sarcasm oozing from your retort.
‘Fuck, say my full name again,” he exclaims as he throws his head back.
You fully laugh, your arm giving him a playful push to his shoulder. You’re both smiling ear-to-ear, the flirty mood turning into something different. It had been happening much more recently.
His body was still pressed onto yours, his arms caging you between himself and the car. Going onto your toes, you bring your lips to his. It’s a soft, sweet kiss.
As you lean back onto the car, Mark doesn’t utter another word. He simply kisses you again, a little rougher this time, and your arms immediately move around his neck. One of his arms snakes from the hood of the car to your ribcage, his fingertips slowly inching downwards and finally pressing harder at the curve of your waist.
The kiss was what you could say, electric. It was as if the spark began at your lips and the electricity followed down to Mark’s erect length, currently already straining against his jeans. What you didn’t know was Mark had been thinking about you all day. When he would see your face, when he would speak to you, and what you would say as he was in between your legs. All the unrequited feelings and lust you both felt pouring into this kiss and every kiss before and after.
Your lips fit each other perfectly, moving in sync. Mark swallows your moan when you feel your tongue caressing against his. He was so enamored with you, having difficulty coming out from the daze that is you.
You finally pull back to catch your breath; Lips swollen and the nude lipstick smudged. You’re panting heavily against his mouth and your fingertips feel as if they’re leaving crescent marks around his neck. The lust between Mark and yourself was something you never experienced before. Being turned on just from a short makeout was nonexistent until Mark. If you were to check your panties right now, you’re sure they would be soaked; feeling as if you’re losing sanity every second that passes.
“You know, if you were good and just walked over to my car earlier, I would have made you come twice by now.” He’s gazing at you with those hooded eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing while he swallows. You’re playfully trailing your nails against his neck and notice the purple marks that once covered it are now faded. I’ll have to fix that.
You then notice the goosebumps that appear on his skin as your nails graze his skin.
“Since when do you like good girls?”
Mark’s inked hand plays with the strands of hair that hover over your cheekbones and continue to trace your jawline until they reach your chin. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, lifting it to bring your face closer to his.
He’s still looking at you with naked lust. His head tilted to the side while his lips are practically touching yours.
“I did until I met you.”
“Shit,” you rasp against Mark’s mouth.
One minute you were standing outside and now you are in the backseat of his fucking brand new car making out like you both had not seen each other in months. It was always like this, aggressive and full of want. But you loved it. Mark knew you did, so he never hesitated on being rougher in bed.
You're straddling his thighs and it feels as if he’s everywhere at once. The feel of his warm hands palms your ass, guiding you as you grind on his clothed cock that becomes harder by the second. It feels too good, chasing euphoria every time you’re with him. “Oh my god,” you pant against his mouth. It isn’t long before you feel the grip of his fingers as he pries your mouth open, not hesitating to slip his tongue into it again.
Your fingers are running through his hair, pulling on his black locks as the makeout becomes more intense, and Mark grunts at the feeling.
His sounds turn you on even more. The kiss is still messy and hot as he slightly bucks his hips upwards, creating more friction. Your bodies mold together, fitting each other perfectly like a puzzle.
You break away from his lips to trail kisses from his jawline down his neck, sucking and nipping to leave fresh marks against his collarbone. His head leans further back against the headrest, closing his eyes to enjoy your touch. He’s panting harder now, the sounds erupting from his throat being music to your ears. It only encourages you further, but you don’t notice his hand skimming your inner thigh.
His fingers, which are painted in ink, shift higher in an attempt to move your panties underneath your skirt to the side, but they come directly in contact with your slick.
“Fucking shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?” he asks you, and you hum in response, still working at his neck.
“Slut. Slut who always just wants to fuck. Nothing else.”
“Your slut. Who always just wants to get fucked by you,” you whisper; Swollen lips grazing his ear as the words leave them.
He says nothing more with words, responding by slipping two fingers into you.
You gasped at the sudden force. It feels too good, but he doesn’t move. He just looks at you with a look you can't comprehend.
Your fingers inch up to move a curl out of his eyes. “Move, please Mark.”
“You’re beautiful, you know that?”
You were surprised by the sudden expression. One moment he was acting like he always does, then he offered you small compliments. Though it was weird timing to be sentimental, you couldn’t help but feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. It catches you off guard and the fuzzy feeling you never experienced before meeting him comes back. The same fuzzy feeling in your lower stomach came and went with certain words like these, not just his actions. It starts to scare you because every time, it seems you both stray further from the initial agreement.
“What’s gotten you so cheesy all of a sudden?” your eyes avoid him while you play with the same long curl.
“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know,” he offers a small smile. You swear you see a hint of something loving in his eyes. But it couldn’t be, you think. He’s just saying things in the heat of the moment.
You brush off what could be Mark’s slight falter from his strong persona; no longer avoiding his eyes, you connect your lips to his once again.
He gives in, both of you melting into the kiss. It's too intoxicating yet again. Both of your hands are on each other as if the other would somehow disappear.
His fingers begin to move, and you gasp against his mouth because you had forgotten Mark’s fingers were still inside of you due to his statement. Your surprise only allows him immediately to go for your neck; kissing your sensitive spots. Nipping and licking over it to slightly ease the burn.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.”
He speeds up the pace, curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot. The relief only increases as you get closer to your orgasm. Jaw slacked open as you pant against his ear.
“ Mark, right there,” you mewl.
His fingers are so deep inside you, and he finally adds a third finger. You already feel full, and think about how good his cock would feel after the satisfying burn. Of course, that wasn’t enough for Mark, so his thumb begins circling your clit, adding more stimulation. The sensation is too good to describe, and you roll your hips, grinding onto his fingers in hopes of increasing the amount of pleasure.
You’re a mess. Already feeling fucked out before taking his cock and your pussy continues to swallow Mark’s inked fingers as the arousal continues to drip down, the sound letting you know of the mess you’re making. But you don’t pay any mind to it, too focused on the feeling in your lower stomach increasing.
“Please Mark. Faster. Don’t stop,” you pant out as you chase the awaited high.
“Love it when you beg,” he whispers. His hot breath against your lobe.
Your eyes squeeze shut as the wave of your orgasm arrives before you can utter a warning. Mark continues to pump his fingers inside of you, the pleasure becoming more intense. You whimper against his neck as you ride out your orgasm.
Mark pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth. He makes sure you’re watching as his tongue licks a long stripe from his knuckles, finally wrapping his lips around his fingers.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he praises.
As the corner of your lips lifts, your hand is already unbuttoning his jeans. Slipping your hands in, you begin to palm his cock through his boxers, Mark attempting to suppress a low groan from your actions. The sound alone has you trying to squeeze your thighs together; even after the intense orgasm you just experienced. Only Mark could make you feel this way. He was the only one who could turn you on as much as he did.
“Don’t tease, slut.”
“Just having some fun,” you counter against his mouth.
As you help Mark slip his pants and boxers off, his cock is fully hard, the pink tip leaking precum. Mark’s dick was on the larger side, making you feel full every time you both would have sex. It had surprised you the first time, expecting it to be average, but it definitely was not. This motherfucker knew it too, assuring you that ‘you could take it’ as he roughly thrusted in and out of you.
“Spit on it,” he demands.
From the straddle position on his thighs, you lower your head, letting saliva slowly drip down onto his cock.
Mark gives praise with a ‘good girl’ as you stroke him. You finally reposition onto your knees beside his thighs, feeling his rough hands on your waist before helping you lower yourself onto him. As you’re slowly sinking onto his cock, you both gasp.
Mark roughly smashes his lips by pulling onto your neck as you adjust to his size.
The feeling was literal heaven.
Oh, how you could never get used to this.
His long fingers are wrapped around your neck, squeezing as you start to slowly grind against his cock. He swallows your moans and your fingers that were initially gripping his hair move to his shoulders and you finally pull back to begin bouncing on his cock.
Your pussy envelops his cock, squeezing at the intense amount of pleasure that runs through your veins.
Mark finds himself marveling at your breasts bouncing in front of him, immediately wrapping his lips around your nipples. His fingers dig into your skin as the pleasure increases for the both of you.
A breathy whimper emits from your throat and it takes everything to not close your eyes. Mark hated when you closed your eyes, always wanting to look at you as arousal bled through your orbs.
“How are you always this tight baby? Fuck,” he rasps. Looking at him, you can say he’s almost as fucked out as you. You knew Mark well enough to know when he was feeling more than he let on.
You whimpered as a response. The small moans and wet sounds of skin slapping filled the empty air of the vehicle. Mark continues to squeeze your throat, the pressure only heightening the feeling in your lower torso. At the inkling of your orgasm, Mark feels you clench around him and groans against your tits.
As you’re bouncing on his cock, Mark matches your rhythm and bucks his hips into you, hitting your g-spot. It’s rough and fast, the brutal pace causing your moans to heighten in pitch. You couldn’t take it anymore. The imaginary band in your stomach is on the verge of snapping again. You were so sensitive from the first orgasm that the second one was not far from reach.
“Ma-arkk, so close,” you yelp, emitting words that were almost incoherent.
“Come for me baby, milk my cock.”
Putting all your remaining energy into riding him, you feel Mark’s fingers leave your waist and trail down to your clit, pressing circles. “Fuck! Mark!”
This was all you needed to come undone, your eyes squeezing shut and your body freezing momentarily as the overwhelming high washes over you. Your pussy tightens around his cock, spasming but not stopping Mark from continuing to drive his length into you with renewed vigor.
“Fuck baby, you’ll make me-”
Your mouth is open in an ‘o.’ A moan threatening to leave your throat but nothing is heard.
“Shit, you’re so tight right now,” Mark utters, throwing his head back against the headrest. He lets go of your throat, placing both of his hands at your waist to now reach his high. As he continues to abuse your cunt, all is heard are your sobbed curses into his shoulder, the intense feeling still lingering.
Your body was loose, facial features neutralizing as you come down from your euphoria. You were tired, having difficulty helping Mark but tried your best to move. The burning feeling in your thighs came and grew stronger but you could tell he was close due to his features scrunching slightly, focus becoming blurred.
The tension building in his body was on the verge of snapping. He was so close, wanting it so badly for the reason that the high of the orgasm seeped through his veins like a drug.
“Inside of me. Want you to fill me up Lee,” your voice enough to be the last straw for Mark.
His body began to heat up, nothing but one last shout of your name as he came into you.
“Fuck.”
You were spent every time, your limp body falling forward onto him. Your cheek rested on his shoulder, nothing but silence and warmth pervading the air.
Mark’s slender fingers dance on your thighs, both of you savoring the comfortable tranquility before he reaches up to your chin to bring your face to his.
“Lemme take you out on a date. For real. A real date.”
You chuckle at his confession, mistaking it for a funny gag. “Ha-ha very funny.”
“I’m being serious. You don’t think I like you?” he replies slightly taken aback.
“I just thought you didn’t want anything serious. What changed?”
His orbs stare into yours for a few seconds before he responds. “You. I wanna take you out on a date because I really like you.”
“I like you too, Mark.” It was a relief to finally be able to say it out loud.
“But you just came in me, so maybe date talk later?” you chuckle.
“Okay, bet. I can work with that,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours once again, never getting sick of the enigma that is you.
#nct 127#nct u#nct dream#nct#nct smut#nct hard thoughts#nct x reader#nct x y/n#nct x you#mark lee#lee mark#nct mark#nct mark lee#mark lee smut#mark smut#mark lee x reader#mark lee x you#mark lee x y/n#mark lee fluff#mark lee fanfic#nct fluff#nct fanfic#nct ff#nct fic#nct fic recs#nct female oc#nct mark x reader#nct mark smut#nct mark fluff#lee minhyung
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all i do i think about mean!abby i need her </3 her strap game would be toooo good
nsfw!
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ mean!abby…omg i’m literally drooling thinking about how she’d make you ride her thigh and then teases you for leaving a wet spot. “you’re always making such a fucking mess, now i have to clean it up. no, don’t stop now. don’t stop until i tell you to.”
her strap game is impeccable by the way. she’ll sit you on her lap, slip it in nice and easy. watching your eyes roll back while you go brain dead on her cock. then she’ll stop thrusting and force you to ride her until your legs grow tired and numb. and when you’re begging her to help you reach your peak, she just crosses her arms. doesn’t even look at you! pulls out her phone and starts scrolling. “if you’ve got the energy to whine and beg in my ear then you’ve got the energy to finish yourself off.”
and this lasts like…two minutes because you’re literally struggling to move. she’s stretching your pussy open wide, cock covered in your slick juices. (and probably a mixture of your spit because she likes to watch you gag on her before she fucks you. you have to earn that prize.)
you can’t do it anymore. you’re shaking all over. so she groans, rolls her eyes, sets her phone down and grabs your chin. “you’re so fucking weak, can’t do anything yourself, huh?” and she doesn’t let you respond with a frantic “i’m sorry-“ before grabbing your hips and thrusting up into you. hands squeezing at your sides so roughly you’re sure she’ll leave bruises. pace unforgiving. she’s fucking relentless. she’s fucking you into next week.
and even after you come all over her and drip down her legs and your thighs, she doesn’t stop thrusting. she’s not going to stop thrusting until you come again and again and again. (that’s what you get for being so weak.)
plus, she loves how you sound when you’re overstimulated. <3
#bunnie can speak? ☆#bun’s asks ꕤ#bun’s anons ˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐#abby anderson#bun’s precious abby ✧.*#modern abby#abby anderson fanfic#abby anderson fic#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson imagine#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson headcanons#abby anderson drabble#abby anderson smut#abby x you#wlw imagine#sapphic writing#wlw fanfic#abby smut#— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
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*Han Calling You Clingy*
Pairing: Han x Reader (GN)
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Cursing, Alcohol, Reader Gets drunk, Not proof Read
Buckled up for this one yall it hurted me ngl. I also while putting it all together realized i in fact of course messed up a part of the messages. So I am sorry in advance 🥲
This is part of a series. Find the others here:
Bangchan, Changbin, Minho, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin
-🩵
Today was Han and yours 3 year anniversary. You had planned a nice dinner and a surprise for him after you both got home. You made reservations at one of his favorite restaurants and even got a new outfit for it. Hans been busy with the new album the last few weeks, he’s been super stressed and you know this would definitely help wind him down a bit.
You had told him a few times about the dinner because he forgets things easily. He was doing some work at the studio right now but he said he’d meet you there for dinner since he had to finish some things up. You put on your cute outfit and got yourself all ready to leave the house. You texted him “I’m leaving the house now! See you soon😘” before heading out.
About 15 mins had passed since you had gotten there for your reservation. You had gotten seated and gotten a drink. You were getting nervous that he had forgotten so you texted him a simple “hey babe did you leave yet?” It was radio silent after another 10 minutes you texted again.
Everything in you wanted to cry I mean you had a few tears but you quickly wiped them away. You sat there for a moment in honest shock of what to do. The love of your life is standing you up, yelling at you and forgot your anniversary. What the actual fuck. You waved the waiter over, got the check for your drink and left. You didn’t wanna go home you wanted to find jisung and punch him in his cute stupid face.
Driving home you stopped at a park close to your house. You sat there and cried. You cried hard your chest heaving feeling like your heart was thrown at the wall and smashed with a bat. You punched your steering wheel and just deflated. You had gotten a call from a friend of yours who asked if you and ji wanted to go to the bar with him and his gf. You sniffled trying not to cry on the phone but he knew something was up. He drove to where you were, him and his gf both were friends of yours. So when you saw them you just bursted into tears again.
The consoled you for a bit before asking what you wanted to do. “You know what- fuck it let’s go to the bar” you said. You wanted to numb the pain just wanted to drink everything away. To come home and just puke all of jisung stuff. The both nodded, they followed you to your house to drop your car off and drove to the bar. It didn’t take long for you to start taking shots back. You just wanted to forget the night and to forget Jisung.
It was late, you were plastered you had gotten a text from Jisung who must have just gotten home to see the surprise you had laid out for him. You had gotten him a new guitar that he’s been wanting it was placed on the bed with a note. The note read.
“Hannie! The actual love of my life. I can’t believe it’s been 3 years! Were you surprised? I bet you were! I just wanted to tell you I love you so much. I appreciate you and I know you’ve been working so hard so I hope today relieved some of that stress. I love you my sweets. Happy 3 years! I hope for many many more. -love your amazing loving girlfriend.”
Han choked back tears realizing what he had done. He had forgotten your anniversary but most importantly he had yell at you when all you were trying to do was make him happy. He broke down in tears, curled up on the floor in a little bawl. He could feel his chest tightening, he was scared. He didn’t know where you were, what you might have done or if you were safe.
Your phone ended up dying not knowing the floods of texts you were about to get. You didn’t know it but you started to cry. Your friends helped you to the car, the boy not drinking at all that night drove you to their place. He put you in the guest room while the girl put some water by your bed, a bucket and put your phone on the charger. You curled up knocked out cold from crying and the alcohol. You woke up around 5am feeling your head pounding. You couldn’t remember much of anything from the night.
You picked your phone up not even looking at the texts and called Jisung. He answered it immediately in a frenzy. “Y/n!” He said his voice horse from crying. Your head spun as you slurred “ji can come to (friend’s name) I wanna cuddle.” Jisung was confused but he didn’t ask questions “of course I’ll be there in 5.” He said basically sprinting to his car. “Mkay, ima gonna walk down to the door.” You said fumbling to get to your feet. Jisung drove like a madman he even ran a red light.
His heart dropped seeing you slumped over trying to stay awake at the door “hey I’m here” he said as he opened the door taking your hand. You fell into his chest holding onto him with a death grip. You started to sob, you cried so hard but in your dazed state you didn’t know why you were crying.
Jisung clung to you rubbing your back trying not to cry himself, he pulled you to the car getting you to sit in the back. Where you promptly laid down and just cried. Jisung drove just as fast as home one hand on the wheel and the other rubbing your head to try to calm you. Your cries had almost completely stopped as you pulled into your place. Jisung left out a soft sigh the tears he was choking back were bursting at the seems. He held them back until he got you safely into the room laying you down.
He wanted to leave you alone knowing you were hurting still but you quickly pulled him into bed with you. He curled up with you as you both laid there, your eyes half opened “I’m sorry for being so clingy” you said. Your voice sounded so sad so meek. “I don’t wanna ever be a bother to you” you kept going on. The tears he had choked back finally broke and it started to flood.
He held you close crying hard trying to get out the words he wanted to say “don’t you dare apologize” he croaked out. “You did absolutely nothing wrong, it was all me” he said rubbing your head. “Don’t you think for a second you did anything.”
You both ended up drifting to sleep both of your heads spinning as you woke up. You looked over at jisung his eyes puffy and his chest still heaving from the nights happenings. You read through all the messages he had sent and sighed softly. You were still hurt by his words and it was gonna take some to comeback from but he was genuinely sorry. The way he clung to you told you that alone. He was afraid you were gonna leave. That thought really never crossed your mind but he knew he fucked up bad enough that it could be a reason to leave. He’s never yelled before let alone said anything mean towards you. You knew he was hurting from what he said but so were you.
You thought to yourself though laying there in his arms “i do very much love him but he’s gonna have to do some heavy groveling to make it up to you” you smiled a bit.
💙 if you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open feel free to send me something🩵
#stray kids#skz#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#Han#Han jisung#han scenarios#han jisung scenarios#stray kids texts#skz texts#han jisung imagines#han jisung angst#han jisung x reader#skz angst#stray kids angst#stray kids imagines#bangchan#Lee know#changbin#hyunjin#felix#seungmin#jeongin#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#jisung x reader#jisung imagines
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Freckles (Part 3 - Grandpa's POV)
Life has changed a lot for me in the past nine months. You don’t realize just how much you miss about being young until you’ve got it back. I thought I had a good handle on things, swapping into Dylan every summer like clockwork. A week here, a week there—it was enough to scratch the itch, to remind me of what it felt like to have a strong back, quick reflexes, and boundless energy. But let me tell you, living in a young body for this long? It’s different. Night and day.
Kai—no, Theo now—was right. I’ll admit it. I was reluctant when he first said it to me, standing there in that smug stance of his, shirtless as always, grinning like he had the world figured out. “You clearly get a kick out of being in Dylan’s body,” he said, his tone dripping with knowing amusement. And damn if he didn’t have a point.
I hesitated back then, but looking at me now? I owe Theo a massive thank-you. Staying in Dylan’s body for longer than a week was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. For one thing, there’s a kind of freedom that comes with being young and I’ve been taking full advantage of it.
I live in Berlin now. Thanks to my little caveat—"Feel free to alter your body in any way you see fit during the year"—it was totally in bounds to do something like this. A new life, a fresh start. Berlin seemed like the obvious choice. The city practically begs you to reinvent yourself, to explore every side of who you are, no matter how deeply it’s been buried.
The real Dylan wasn’t thrilled about the move, but what could he do? We all already had Irish passports anyway, so it wasn’t like there were any logistical hurdles. He’ll get over it, I’m sure. Honestly, though, I think he’s secretly jealous.
Besides, this is the perfect place to explore my sexuality. Everyone here is so open—no judgment, no shame. I’ve had sex in all the clubs, even in the middle of Tempelhof Feld. Men, women—it doesn’t matter. And let me tell you, everyone wants my hog and body, which is in peak form.
But the best night I’ve had was one where I wasn’t taking the active role in the encounter.. I’d been getting into leather lately, exploring the scene and one night, I found myself at a warehouse party. Dim red lights, pounding music, the smell of sweat and leather mingling in the air. I was dressed for the occasion—harness, boots, nothing else.
That’s where I met them. A Swedish guy, tall and broad-shouldered, with blond hair and piercing eyes that pinned me in place. And a Bulgarian guy, muscular, his dark eyes smoldering with a confidence that left no room for argument. They didn’t ask; they just knew I would take it.
And I did.
They worked together like a symphony, positioning me between them with practiced ease. The Bulgarian was the first to push inside, his cock thick and unrelenting. I gasped, clutching at his shoulders as he filled me, stretching me in a way that felt like too much and just enough all at once. And then, the Swedish guy. His cock pressed against me, slick and insistent, until he slid in beside the first, my body opening up to take them both.
I’d never felt anything like it—the fullness, the weight of them moving in tandem, their rhythm so perfectly in sync it felt orchestrated. One of them reached around to stroke my cock, his grip firm and knowing, while the other’s hand moved to my chest, teasing my nipples until I was trembling. The pleasure was overwhelming, building in waves that crashed over me again and again, each one higher than the last.
When I finally came, it was like the entire world blurred out of existence. My cock pulsed in the Swedish guy’s hand, the orgasm tearing through me with a force that left me breathless. My legs nearly gave out, but they held me steady, their movements never faltering as they milked every last drop of pleasure from my body. By the time they finished, I was spent, my skin slick with sweat, my heart pounding like I’d run a marathon.
That night changed something in me. It wasn’t just the sex—it was the surrender, the freedom of letting go completely. Afterward, they helped me clean up, their touches surprisingly gentle, and we shared drinks at the bar, laughing and swapping stories like old friends.
And now? Well I think I’m officially a Berliner.
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Day 6; Intimidation.
╰┈➤"Being stared at by one of the Leech Twins could scare anyone at Night Raven College, even you, especially if there's no apparent reason behind it. Jade, on the other hand, believes his plan to hint his feelings for you is working greatly."
╰►Gender neutral reader, oneshot, 1.4k words.
╰► Character: Jade Leech.
╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.
╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.
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Jade Leech has got his eyes on you for two weeks now.
At first, it only happened when you were in the hallways, but you didn't think much of it because, there were a lot of students, why would he be looking at you?
Then it was at the cafeteria when you were surrounded by your first-year friends, but that meant nothing because they were pretty loud, there were a lot of reasons why he could be staring.
But then it happened at the library when it was just Grim and you, which was weird, but perhaps he was looking at your little friend, maybe finding ways to blackmail him into working at Mostro Lounge again.
You've made a lot of excuses about it, thinking that it'd be narcissistic to believe he was solely staring at you, but now, as you are seated at one of the few benches that were around the Botanical Garden, with Jade only a few meters away, you could feel his gaze piercing you.
And it was fucking scary.
He worked casually on some annotations as he looked at a few mushrooms in the area, which made you wonder how seemed to be deeply focused on it while still managing to feel like he was staring at your soul.
'I was just looking for a peaceful place to study, Great Seven.'
You sighed, already tired of such attention upon you, which only fuelled the frustration you already felt due to that damn alchemy assignment you couldn't do properly.
Once again doing the assignment incorrectly, you turned towards where your pencil case was lying, looking for an eraser.
"You did the third step wrongly."
The voice of vicehousewarden echoed through the garden, as you lifted your face to observe him, realising he was staring at the mushrooms instead of you, making you wonder how he was even able to see your notebook from so far.
“Thank you, I’ll correct it when I get back to my dorm.” You answered trying to be polite, an awkward smile on your expression, as you grabbed your pencil case to start packing up your things, instead of just grabbing the eraser. You had enough of that psychological torture already.
“A pity that you’re leaving so soon, Prefect.” He commented as you got up from your seat.
“Yeah, I’ve to run some errands today. Goodbye, Jade.”
“Goodbye, good luck with your errands.” The vicehousewarden spoke with his usual mischievous smile, as if he knew you’d go home straight away after leaving the Botanical Garden, away from his prying eyes.
What the hell was wrong with him…?
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You wished that was the last time you were under the petrifying gaze of Jade Leech, but as usual for your luck, it wasn’t. In fact, you already had started to get used to it. This was Night Raven College, having a second-year student stare at you like a predator to his prey probably wasn’t even on your top five of the strangest things you’ve gone through ever since you arrived.
"Do you think Trein's going to put the class of this week into the next test?" Deuce questioned, as you walked along him, Ace walking behind with Grim. All of the classes of the day were already finished, and Deuce offered his room to finish one of the group homework that Crewel assigned last week.
"I think he said he would." Ace answered, balancing Grim on one of his shoulders.
"You both talk like you'll study for the test, how cute." You commented, chuckling softly, your laugh stopping immediately as out of nowhere, Jade appeared in front of you.
"Prefect, it's nice to see you." The vicehousewarden greeted, ignoring the panicked expression of the Heartslabyul first-years beside you. "I was wondering if you'd come to Mostro Lounge tomorrow, after class." He questioned politely.
"Tomorrow...? At Mostro Lounge?" The question escaped your lips, as your mind wondered what he could want from you.
"Yes, that's what I said." He reassured, his smile more insistent than usual.
"Yeah, sure..." You answered, mostly out of uneasiness, considering how widely known was around the school about the terrors of those who made the Leech Twins get annoyed.
"Wonderful, I'll wait for you, please be punctual." The second-year remarked, before turning around to continue his walk.
...
"Prefect, did you get into a deal with Azul?!"
"What the hell did you do wrong?! Messing with Octavinelle is awful, man...You're probably working at Mostro Lounge for at least 2 months."
"But I didn't do anything!" You excused yourself immediately.
"You didn't...? Then why did Jade ask you to go to Mostro Lounge?"
"I've got no idea..." You mumbled, sighing in exasperation. First the stares, and now this...
"Maybe you did something without noticing." Deuce suggested with a nervous tone.
"If that's the case, you're screwed, Prefect. Good luck with that, we'll visit you at your shifts at Mostro Lounge."
"Thanks for the support, boys." You commented sarcastically.
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This was it, the moment of truth.
You walked through the doors of Mostro Lounge, your expression as confident as you could, even if you were behind scared. You wondered all day what exactly you did to be stalked by Jade Leech and then asked to come to his dorm, because there surely was an explanation for it. Still, when it came to Octavinelle's vicehousewarden, you knew it was safer to wonder rather than be involved with him.
"You arrived perfectly on time." Was the first comment from the second-year student as soon as they arrived. "Please follow me." He indicated the way towards a more secluded room of the Mostro Lounge, which you followed without complaint. You were already there, might as well you could try your best not to bother him.
As he stood in front of you, you wondered once again why could he ask you to come talk to him, perhaps it was Grim who got into a problem, maybe he wanted to blackmail you, or he even could want to persuade you into making a deal with-
"I asked you to come because I had a question for you, so I apologize if it was inconvenient for you at all." He started, your body getting stiff, as if getting ready for a fight. "I was wondering if you perhaps wanted to go on a hike with me this weekend?"
...
"A hike, you say?" You asked, startled, as he nodded. "You mean, just the two of us?" That was bad, wasn't it? What if he wanted to take you to a lonely place to make you disappear or something of the sort?
"Yes, just the two of us." He replied. "Or at least, that was what the book suggested-"
"What book?" You questioned, confused.
"Ah, just a book I read about human custom. It said humans usually liked dates on open spaces, or where they could do activities outdoors. Perhaps you aren't the kind of person that likes them? I could come up with other kinds of ideas indoors, if you'd like." The vicehousewarden explained, his voice steady as usual.
'Did he say date...?'
"No, I do like being outside and all of that, it's just that...You asked me to come here to ask me out?"
"Yes. My previous plans didn't seem to be working, so I figured it'd be best to approach you directly."
"What previous plans?"
"Well, the book explained that humans usually express interest through eye contact, is that correct?" The second-year questioned with a genuine expression that almost seemed adorable.
"Eye-contact...? Well, uhm..." You mumbled, wondering when you ever made eye contact with Jade at all. Wait. "You mean, like the times when you stared at me in class?"
"Indeed, was it effective?"
"It certainly caught my attention, for sure..." You mumbled, relieved to learn that his intentions seemed to be way less dangerous than you thought at first.
"I'm glad to hear that. Then, would you like to join me for a hike?"
You considered his words for a second, wondering whether it'd be a good idea or not. But after so much time being chased by his gaze, and so many hours thinking about the reason behind it, you considered a date wouldn't hurt, wouldn't it? He had perseverance, at least.
"I'd love to join you, Jade."
"I'm glad to hear that." He chuckled softly, surprising you with how cute he actually looked when he didn't stalk you through school hours.
"Jade."
"Yes?"
"From now on, if you want to learn about human customs, just ask me, okay?"
"In that case, I'll be more than pleased to be your student, Prefect." He replied, the small smile still on his face as he looked at you with his mismatched eyes.
Well, perhaps you wouldn't mind being the one staring at him now.
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#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland oneshot#disney twst#twst x you#twisted wonderland jade#twst oneshot#twst jade#jade leech x reader#lynnie's post
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Can you please write part of roommate reader? I've hoped it could be a new series 🥺🥺 I'm obsessed with that story lol😩😩😩
yes!! ofc!! 💗
Roommates Part 2 (fem)
MDNI🔞
Part 1 Part 3
Master List (✍🏽)
>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, squirting, dirty talk
2.3k word count
🏠
.
.
Two weeks have passed since König moved in, since the incident happened. You still haven’t talked to him much other than an awkward “hello” here and there. König has been understanding of your behavior, but he honestly wishes you both could move past it. He was wondering if maybe he should just move out.
Today, as you walk out of your room, the aromatic smell of coffee hits you. You see, König leaning against the sink, wearing only gray sweatpants. In his hand he holds a mug of coffee and in the other his phone as he scrolled on it. His blue eyes look up and land on you. A smile forms on his lips, shoving his cell phone into his pocket.
“Guten Morgen. Would you like some coffee? It just finished brewing.” He smiles and shows off his sharp canines.
“Um, no thanks.” You say awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with him.
Trying to ignore him as you walk to the pantry and grab a box of cereal. Then you hear the cabinet open and you see König grabbing a bowl for you. He holds it out for you and you nod in thanks. As you place it all on the table, you see König opening the fridge to get you the milk.
“You don’t have to do everything for me.”
“I don’t mind.” He looks at you as he places the milk on the table and lingers for a while. “I just feel bad for making you feel uncomfortable in your own home.”
“It- you did nothing wrong. Honestly. I’m just, well, mortified.” You say as you fidget with the flap on the box of cereal.
“You don’t have to be. I understand how awkward it must be for you, but please know I don’t judge you for it. If we could just start over and pretend it never happened, I’d like that a lot.”
König looks at you, waiting to see if you’d accept his offer. His eyes drift to your breasts as you look away, trailing up along the curve of your neck and back to your eyes as you look back at him.
“I’d like that.”
A wide smile creeps across König’s lips. “I’m glad.”
That was the start of a slow developing relationship. Eating breakfast together and chatting before bed became somewhat of a ritual for the both of you. Slowly, you both opened up to each other about life goals and past challenges. Without realizing it, you both have revolved your routines around seeing one another. The last few months together have been the happiest he’s been in decades.
Today, when you got home from work, there was a different vibe in the apartment. You kicked off your shoes and placed your bag down by the door.
König’s blue eyes trail up your body, not caring to be discreet. An open beer sitting on the coffee table in front of him. You both look at each other for a moment before you walk forward to the couch and sit next to him.
“Are you okay?”
König doesn’t respond right away; he leans back into the throw pillows. “I’m getting deployed soon.” His blue eyes meet you again. Usually, he wouldn’t care, but he’s been slowly building a relationship with you and now he is being pulled away from you. You’ve felt like the home he’s wanted all of this time.
“Oh, for how long?” You try to mask the disappointment in your tone.
“Anywhere from six months to a year.”
“That’s a long time.”
“It is.” König’s eyes trail down from your eyes to your lips.
“When do you leave?”
“In three days.” He says, reaching forward for the beer and taking a swig.
Your jaw drops, looking surprised to hear how soon he will leave you. It’s his job, but right now you feel selfish because you want him to stay. You’ll miss his company, miss him.
“The apartment will feel empty without you.” The words flow from your lips with a hint of sorrow.
König forces a small smile. “I really like you.” It was time you both stopped acting like shy teenagers and just got your feelings out there for one another. “I have feelings for you.”
This isn’t recent news to you; you’ve always sort of known he likes you. The way he gazes at you, packs lunches for you, and smiles when he sees you- it’s all very obvious. You’re pretty sure he already knows that you like him, too.
“I have feelings for you, too.”
König’s eyes light up as you confess your feelings are mutual. A smirk comes across his lips. A wave of confidence comes over him as he leans towards you, his hand cupping your face as he places a tender kiss on your lips.
It’s as if sparks go off and travel throughout your whole body as your lips meet. You kiss back eagerly, your lips pressing harder into his as one of your hands moves to his thigh. The feeling of your warm hand makes him shiver.
He slowly pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you. In his mind, he is running through the different ways he can ask you for more. Ask you to wait for him to come back. Give him your body so he can have something to remember while away, other than the mental image you squirting. Months have been wasted because he doesn’t think he’s deserving of you.
You can see the look in his eyes, your hand lightly squeezes his thigh. “Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”
“I want you.” He finally says. You’ll either agree or reject him. It felt as if a lifetime passed before he felt you move your hand up his thigh more.
“I want you too.”
Words aren’t needed anymore. He grabs your waist and brings you on to his lap. His mouth pressing into yours, opening to lick your bottom lip. You accept him into your mouth as your tongues swirl together. His gigantic hands caress your body, one trailing down the curve of your hip and the other under your shirt, climbing up to your bra.
You can feel his erection press into you, small moans leaving both of your lips into each other’s mouths. His hand slips underneath your bra and cups your breast in his hand. Your skin is so warm and soft. A groan leaving his mouth as his fingers pinch your nipple.
König pulls his mouth away from yours and lifts your shirt off of your body. His lips find yours again as he tosses the shirt on the back of the couch. He reaches around your body to unhook your bra as your tongues flick over one another’s.
He pulls back again and looks down at your glorious breasts. “Wow.” He looks at you, speechless, for a moment. His eyes meet yours as his mouth drifts to your chest. In one hand, he grips your heavy breast and brings it to his mouth. His tongue reaches out and flicks at your nipple. A small whimper leaves your lips before he wraps his lips around your nipple, latching on to it. Your fingers comb through his messy blonde hair as his mouth hungrily goes back and forth between both breasts.
His fingers fidget with the belt you're wearing, trying to pull your bottoms off of you as fast as he can. You assist him and unbutton your pants, lifting your ass so he can pull your pants off of you. Lips leaving your breasts, he lets his gaze roam over your body. He runs his fingers down your thighs. A little of prickly hair, but König couldn’t care less.
“You’re stunning.” He says, his voice lower than a whisper.
König stands with you in his arms, turning to place you on the couch. He lays you back, almost recreating when he walked in on you, masturbating. It’s all he’s been thinking about, fucking you in that position.
“It was a busy day at work.” You say bashfully, worried about your pussy maybe smelling.
“Perfect.” König says as he continues to kiss down your body.
A blush comes across your face as you look down at him kissing all over your belly, under your belly, your hips, and moving down… You let out a pleasured gasp as he kisses your pussy lips. His hands grasping your legs and spreading them apart, placing one over his arm and the other resting on the coffee table. He kisses up and down your pussy without kicking you. His eyes closed as if he was kissing a lover. Breathing in deeply and taking in your raw natural scent.
Finally, his eyes open and make eye contact with you. His fat tongue pressed down on to your pussy and swipes up quickly, parting your folds around his tongue. You taste fucking divine. He lets out a groan once your juices touch his taste buds.
Your hand reaches out to the back of his head, holding him against you. Moans flowing from your lips as he rapidly flicks his tongue over your clit. His free hand slides up your leg to your pussy. One finger circles around the entrance of your vagina. Slowly, he slips it in. His finger curved upwards as he slowly begins to move it in and out of it.
You close your eyes and drop your head back, letting your body fully appreciate the pleasure it’s receiving right now. Legs twitching as his tongue and arm moves faster. One of your hands moves to your nipple. You tug on it, catching König’s attention.
His cock is rock hard in his pants, absent-mindedly grinding his hips into the couch cushion. The moans you make match what he heard that day he walked in on you. A second finger slips in as his eyes watch you closely. Your hand moves from his head and squeezes the pillows behind your head.
“König, I’m going to cum.” Your voice is higher pitched.
“Are you going to squirt for your König?”
“Yes!” Your back arches as your body trembles. “Fuucckkk!”
König gets hit in the face by your squirting. He opens his mouth and drinks you in, finally being able to taste you. Removing his fingers from your pussy, he rubs them over your clit quickly. He shoves his face into your cunt and shakes his head back and forth.
“Fuck you’re amazing.” He growls.
His hands quickly pull down his pants. He pulls his shirt over his head to reveal his scarred body to you. Your eyes trace over his muscular but soft body as he stands and pulls down his boxes. You try to not act surprised seeing how hung he is when deep down inside you’re worried it will hurt.
König kneels on the couch in front of you, pulling your hips to him. He rubs his raw cock against your clit, getting himself covered in your cum. Since he is a big guy, this angle was a little awkward. One leg over his shoulder, the other one resting down, he lowers himself to kiss your lips.
“Beg for my pussy.” You look into his blue eyes.
König is absolutely shocked, but fuck was that hot.
“Please let me fuck your pussy.” He begs almost pathetically. Never has he been put in this position before. “Please I need to feel you.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing your neck softly. His hips rock against you, aching to thrust into you.
“Fuck me.”
König didn’t hesitate, he thrust into you. He watches your face as he does. Your face scrunches as you feel him bottom out inside of you. Shoving his 10-inch cock into you as much as you’ll take. Whimpers leave your lips and your eyes maintain contact with his.
“That’s it, Liebling. You can take me.” His voice is low and sensual. Slowly he pulls back and thrust into you again, harder this time.
“Oh my god! Please fuck me!” You’ve never felt a cock this good before, not even your toys can compare. His hips begin to slam into you.
Pathetic little mewls escape your mouth as your eyes flutter back. A cocky grin appears on his face as he sees you turn from that dominant woman to a cock hungry mess.
“You take my cock so well, meine Kleine Hure.”
Not speaking German, you’re unaware he just called you his little whore, but the tone in his voice excites you. Your eyes stay locked on his as his hips roll into you at a rapid pace. The feeling of your wet pussy wrapping tightly around him is pushing him to the edge.
“I’m going to cum Liebling…” He pants as he leans in to kiss on your neck. His cock begins to throb as he moans loudly, moaning out your name. You caress his body as he lays on you, catching his breath.
König sits up, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you up with him. Your body straddles his lap as you both kiss.
“I want you to be mine. I want to know that I have you to come home to. That your body and mind are mine.” He kisses your cheek softly, waiting for your response.
His words make you pause, you pull away to look into his eyes. You trace each scar that covers his handsome face, trying to memorize him and this moment, knowing he will be leaving soon.
“I’ll wait for you. I’m yours.”
“And I’m yours, Liebling.”
König leans in to kiss your lips again, addicted to the way you taste. Even the way your breath smells. He’s just in love with everything about you.
“What does Liebling mean?”
“Oh, it’s like calling you, my love.”
“That’s really cute.” You giggle and think back to sex. “What does Kleine Hure mean?” The German words come out pronounced terribly, but König understood.
König clears his throat and blushes, “Oh, uh-”
Part 3
#konig#konig x reader#könig#konig cod#könig x reader#konig x y/n#konig smut#könig smut#könig cod#könig mw2#könig x y/n#konig x you#könig x you#cod smut#konig x reader smut#smut#cod konig#könig call of duty
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Good In Bed
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
Summary: Jake has made it crystal clear to you that you're only friends with benefits, so why did he go and delete your dating apps?
Warnings: brief mentions of smut but not smutty, jake kinda being an asshole, reader getting upset and yelling at him, fluff ending all the way baybay
Notes: u have no clue how much i love u @roleycoleyland for literally being the reason this got finished <;3 <;3 <3 title from Good In Bed by Dua Lipa <3
Masterlist
Jake pumps his hips hard into yours one final time, before he at last collapses beside you, chest sweaty and heaving, his eyes closed and his face raised to the ceiling. Your position had shifted from the pure force of your fucking, and somehow your head had fallen off the side of his bed, leaving you hanging slightly as you too try to catch your breath.
“Damn, I’ve missed this,” he says a short time later, shifting himself fully out from between your legs, and tucking his hands behind his head, the afterglow of a good lay lingering on him beautifully. Once upon a time his words might’ve sparked pride or even joy, but now they’re just one more cut that stings painfully before being swallowed up. You note sourly he doesn’t say he’s missed you, despite the fact he’s been gone ten weeks now, and against your better judgement you missed him.
You lay there on his bed in the late evening and regret every moment that led you to this point. You shouldn't have picked up when he called tonight, you shouldn't have come over for drinks, and you definitely shouldn't have had sex with him again.
It’s not that Jake isn't a nice guy, well, he isn’t always, but for the most part he was a mile more decent than most of the guys you’d actually dated in the past. From the start he was straightforward and blunt with you about what this thing between you would be, how much he was offering you, and to his credit, he rarely seemed to step outside of that. And like an idiot, you’d gone and gotten feelings for him anyway.
You should have stopped seeing him long before his most recent deployment, and you shouldn't have been there the night before he left for him to hit you with another straightforward and blunt assertion that you were only fuck buddies, nothing more.
The thing is, you and Jake got on well, so well in fact most people assumed that you were an item, and at this point maybe you were blinded by your feelings, but you couldn’t exactly see why you shouldn't be, aside form the fact that Jake didn’t seem to be interested in any sort of commitment, despite what that offered was basically what you had now, only he didn’t have to go out of his way to break your heart once a week.
After the last time, before he’d left for ten weeks, you’d sworn off him for good. You put his name in your phone as ‘DO NOT CALL’, you downloaded a few dating apps, you’d even been on a few dates… and then Jake had sauntered back into your life, invited you over for the night and just like none of your progress existed in the first place, you’d come at his beck and call.
You lay there feeling pathetic as it sinks in what you’ve done, but swallow back your emotions for now. You were an adult, you chose to do this with him tonight, you knew what it would do. Warm fingers make you jump as they wrap around your wrist, and you glance up to watch as Jake effortlessly tugs you back onto the bed, closer to him, never letting his hand leave your skin as he releases you to skim his fingers up and over your shoulder, drawing you even closer until you’re almost cuddling. You nearly pull away.
Jake wasn’t a post-sex cuddler, not really anyway. Aftercare? No problem, but this wasn’t exactly the sort of session that required aftercare, so you’re more than a little surprised by his continued affections, staying still as he curls himself onto his side to face you, hand dropping to grab at your thigh, which he hikes over his, as if this was something you normally did.
“You may need to give me a few before we go again,” you tell him, realising this position was probably just him gearing up for round two. Jake peeks an eye open at you, and lifts an eyebrow as though what you’ve said is very funny.
“I don’t think I’ve got more to give tonight,” he says, adjusting your leg around him again, pulling you in even more. You refrain from frowning, if only to avoid explaining to him why. Jake closes his eyes again and lets out a contented sigh. His hand stays curled around your leg, though he begins rhythmically smoothing his thumb back and forth over your skin after a few moments, and you begin to wonder at what point he’s going to withdraw from you like he usually does.
Luckily you’re saved from the dreaded wait, your phone buzzing loud and distractingly. You use it as the perfect excuse to extract yourself from him, instead moving to a sitting up cross-legged position as you reach for your phone, and draw the screen closer to your chest when you see who it’s from. Jake seems only a little disgruntled by your movement, though gets over it quickly, replacing his hand almost exactly where it once was around your thigh.
“What's going on?” he asks casually, eyes closed again as you tap out a reply. You spare him half a glance, but don’t feel much point in lying to him about things, seeing as he’d never done so with you.
“Just this guy I met on Tinder a while back.” you tell him lightly, completely missing how his eyes pop open immediately and he stares up at you with an unreadable expression.
“You’re on Tinder?” he asks, voice blank, finally making you look down at him properly. You blink and shrug, before going back to your phone.
“Sure, I mean, I don’t know how else to meet people these days, I kinda don’t get out much when Dagger’s not around,” you inform him, shifting in your place slightly as he withdraws his hand from your thigh to lay over his sternum instead.
Feeling the mood shift, but unsure as to why, you force out a laugh and shrug.
“It’s been sorta nice, trying to get back out there again properly, not just, you know, settling or whatever.” that makes Jake react clearly, frowning at you while pushing himself into an upright position. “Settling?!” he repeats, though it’s not really a question. You stare at him in confusion.
“I don’t know, I guess I’m getting past the point in my life where I wanna be doing this,” you getsure between the two of you. “All the time.”
Jake blinks at you in clear offence, before quickly his entire demeanour seems to change all at once, and his expression falls into a somewhat familiar cocky grin.
“Alright, I get it,” he says, only further confusing you and you’re caught off guard enough that when he reaches out and plucks your phone from your hands, you don’t have time to react.
“Hey! Jake!” you protest, suddenly a little panicked as he very easily plays keep-away from you, using one of his hands to do something on your screen, while the other easily bats away you various attempts to swipe your phone back.
“You don’t need any of this shit, alright?” Jake tells you almost condescendingly.
“Jake!” you warn, your voice growing less calm by the moment.
“There, gone. Deleted.” he says proudly, before at last turning your phone screen around to face you, and letting you take it back off him, which you do hurriedly, snatching it away and standing up from the bed.
“What the fuck?!” you demand, looking agape between your now tinder-less phone, and Jake. The blond looks more relaxed now, and all of a sudden any thought of keeping your brooding and your feelings to yourself goes out the window. Your eyes prickle.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do that?!” you shout. Jake has the smarts to at least drop his smug grin, but now he stares up at you in even more annoying surprise.
“I was just–” he starts, but you don’t even care what he has to say anymore.
“You don’t get to leave for ten weeks after, especially after reminding me that you don’t want me, and then just show up again and ruin my chances at finding someone who actually does!” your raised voice wobbles, and you don’t bother trying to hide your sniffling as you continue to lay into him. “That’s not fair! You’re being unfair!” you cry. “How many girls did you take home while you were away, huh?”
Jake blinks at you, a shade of indignance colouring his features now.
“None.” he tells you, but you can only scoff.
“Right. And how many did you flirt with? How many did you buy drinks for?” he stays silent at those questions, either not wanting to answer or no longer seeing the point in the face of your tirade. You stare at him until your eyesight blurs completely before at last you reel back from him.
Gasping a little at the state you’ve worked yourself into, you turn half away from him and wipe desperately at your eyes.
“Baby–” Jake starts, his fingers brushing your wrist, but you jerk away this time, pulling your hand and your phone to your chest.
“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come,” you tell him, collecting your clothes quickly before escaping into his bathroom.
You can't help but feel a little pathetic as you cry harder once you’re in the relative privacy of his ensuite, a strange but familiar disappointment lancing through you when he doesn't come after you. However upon swinging the door back open once you’re dressed, you find Jake standing in front of his bed, sweatpants now fastened around his hips, and a determined expression on his features.
“I’m not letting you leave like this,” he tells you firmly, as if he has any say in what you do. You scoff at him, but don’t cover up your still dripping eyes. If anything, his resolve seems to strengthen.
“Look, be pissed at me, I deserve it, but I’m not letting you drive home when you’ve been drinking,” his voice leaves little room for argument, and even though in the back of your mind you know he’s actually being the decent version of himself right now, you can’t help but snarl at him in disgust.
“Fine! Then I’ll call an uber. I’m not staying here.'' You're aware you sound a little childish, and you feel a small pang of regret when Jake’s face flashes with hurt that is quickly covered up by sternness. Going against all the signs you’re putting out to him right now, Jake moves forward and stops your movements to find your shoes by laying both hands on your shoulders. When you look up at him, eyes still blinking away tears, he seems sincere and pleading.
“Just… just stay here, I’ll sleep in the lounge, alright? Just don’t go home like this.”
You want to snap at him that he has no right to ask that of you, but somehow you think he already knows that, and is still asking anyway. You realise dully, that just like you always wanted, Jake was chasing you now, though, you aren’t sure you really want it anymore.
“I wasn’t trying to upset you–” he cuts himself off, just as you shrug out of his hold.
“Please do not talk to me right now.” is all you can manage by way of agreeing to his terms.
You can barely bring yourself to look at him as he goes about collecting up his pillow and a spare blanket, and a part of you feels cruel, but the bigger part of you is proud that you’ve finally put your foot down. Maybe at some other time you’d let him talk, but right now all you can think about or hear is every moment prior to this night when he’s hurt you.
You’d hoped you’d at least be able to fall asleep somewhat fast, but the longer you lay there, the longer you go over and over every little detail of your night until you find yourself downstairs, wrapped up in the throw blanket from Jake’s bed, and standing a few feet away from him on the couch. He sits up immediately when he noticed you, chucking his phone down and focusing intently on you. You note he doesn’t open his mouth, or attempt to speak yet, and you almost regret telling him not to earlier.
You stare at one another hard, until you have to suppress a small hiccup, at which point you frustratedly wipe your face with the back of your hand and cross your arms in front of you.
“Why did you do that?” You ask, amazed your voice sounds as firm as it does. Jake stares up at you with a mixture of uncertainty and something you want to say is remorse but you can’t bring yourself to believe right now that he would be.
“I’m not good at this stu—”
“—No, tell me why you did it.” You cut him off, not willing to listen to his self-pity right now. Jake closes his mouth and blinks up at you, staring intently for a few moments before he shifts in his seat. “Did you miss me?” You prompt after he continues to stare, eyes somewhat pleading. You understand relationships and vulnerability are hard for him, you’re willing to give him this olive branch for now. To his credit, Jake immediately nods, his hands coming together across his spread thighs to wring anxiously.
“Yes. I’m sorry—”
“—If you ever try any of that shit again, I’m kicking your ass,” you tell him. Jake blinks, then straightens up, and nods again. Your lip wobbles and this time when he reaches a hand out for you, he doesn’t grab you, but waits for you to shuffle forward toward him before pulling you in.
He tugs you forward to come stand between his legs, and bows his forehead to rest against your abdomen, his hands anchored at your hips.
“I don’t want you to think I don’t want you,” Jake mumbles, loud enough for you to hear, and you know this is a big admission for him.
“I know it probably doesn’t feel like it, but you can just, you know, tell me that…” you reply, letting your hands fall into his hair where you begin to smooth down some of the mess you made of it earlier. “I want you,” you say, realising while he may subconsciously know that, you’ve also never told him before. “I would never have let you mess me around if I didn’t,” you add with a short laugh, and flick his ear gently. Jake huffs, and lifts his head so he’s looking up at you now, chin resting on your belly.
“I don’t want you to date anyone else. I should have told you that back when I realised it…” he says softly, looking for the first time since you’ve known him like holding your eye contact is uncomfortable for him. “Is that okay?” He asks even quieter.
“Only if you don’t half ass it,” you peer down at him with playful scepticism.
Jake’s fingers at your hips tighten and his eyes narrow.
“I don’t half-ass anything,” he tells you sourly, before making a face. “Tonight notwithstanding.” he adds after a moment. You can’t help it then, you chortle, and hold the sides of his face. Jake smiles, seemingly proud of himself for making you laugh, and he adjusts his hold on you, moving his hands down to tug you into him, so your knees buckle and you’re forced to catch yourself on his shoulders just as he manoeuvres you to sit on his thigh.
“I’m sorry,” he says, far more seriously, leaning his forehead against yours now that you’re face to face. You cup his cheeks again, and dip forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips.
“You will be out on the curb so fast if you fuck me around again,” you tell him cheerfully, making him laugh this time.
“Noted,” he says, before he steals another kiss, longer this time.
When he pulls back at last, you feel yourself relax fully against him, and move to rest your head in the crook of his neck.
“Can we go to bed now?” he asks after a few seconds. You nod, stifling a suspiciously timed yawn, and yelp a little when he scoops your legs under his arm and stands, grinning smugly all the way back upstairs.
#jake seresin x reader#jake 'hangman' seresin#jake 'hangman' seresin x reader#jake seresin#hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic#jake hangman seresin#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick
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AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART I
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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.5k || ao3 || Part II -> coming soon! || masterlist ||
minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only
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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”
***
Suguru tries to tame you.
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✧ SPRING FEVER collab masterlist ✧
cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader if you squint, biting, blood, marking, eventual forced bathing in later parts, eventual forced feeding in later parts, eventual smut in later parts; masturbation, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?
a/n: this is for @lorelune 's SPRING FEVER collab!! i have been working on this for awhile now and i am excited to share it! this should be about 3 parts...i am very close to finishing the whole thing so i should be releasing a part a week for the next two weeks!
thank you for reading!! i would love to hear your thoughts <333
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“I think you’d be perfect.”
Suguru’s voice is a caress, low and soft, as he sits across from you.
Somehow, he always makes you feel like he is just beneath the surface of your skin, even if there is a respectable distance between you. He always makes you feel as if he is lurking somewhere in the lowest parts of you, pulling at strings you once thought hidden to yourself.
You’ve kept your distance for this reason.
You swallow hard.
And then you manage to get your voice to unstick, to find it somewhere inside of you and bring it to life. It’s firmer than you’re anticipating and you’re proud;
“I don’t think I would be.”
Suguru looks at you in a way that makes you feel as if he’s seeing through you, pulling you open slowly to gaze at all the inner workings of you. His dark eyes are keen, so sharp, even if they’re shaded by half-lidded lashes.
He smiles pleasantly and indulges you, but you know he believes very firmly that he is, in fact, right, “why not?”
“I told you when I agreed to join you—all I wanted in exchange for helping you, was to be an unbound Omega.” You force yourself to meet his eyes and to not get sucked into the dark tide of them.
“You asked for my protection.” He reminds you.
Your eyes flash this time, heated, a little spark that skitters to life inside of you.
“I didn’t—“
“Is that not what you’d call it?” Suguru asks, “when I interfered, every time, to be sure no other Alpha got to you? Or when I scented you to keep them away?”
Prickling warmth dots your cheeks, can feel at the back of your neck, too, the tips of your ears. You try a different tactic.
“I’m not a homemaker.”
His smile is soft, “I don’t want a homemaker.”
“I’m not obedient.” You counter again, as if you could dissuade Suguru Getou once he’s made up his mind.
“You’ve been quite good for me.” Suguru says smugly and this time, a little noise of embarrassment or frustration eeks out of you. A short, sharp little growl from your throat, almost a groan of irritation.
“I—I’m doing your dirty work. That’s our agreement! You give me assignments that I complete and in return, I get my freedom.”
“I don’t know why you’re so opposed to this. Is it not similar already to what we have now?” He asks simply, “I’d still let you roam, if that’s what you’re so scared of.”
“No it’s that—that power and mentality that I don’t want you to have over me.” You snap.
“I already have it,” he says and it isn’t intended to be cruel, but certainly is, “how long do you think you’d last, without the protection of an Alpha?”
“I didn’t have any before you.”
“You were starving, injured, and constantly on the run before me.” You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off, “it would still give you what you want.”
“I don’t want to be yours.” You say frankly, perhaps to be cruel yourself. And then you show teeth a little, flash them in warning, “I don’t want your mark.”
Suguru looks amused, if anything, by your display.
His smile is knowing and insufferable. It makes your anger ratchet up inside of you, hackles rising. You feel a little growl working its way out of your throat. It tears out of you in annoyance, when he says, “I don’t believe you.”
You slam the door so hard on its hinges that it rattles the entire wall. You wish it would rattle all the world.
***
Your cursed technique rips to life like a star exploding outwards.
Beast that you are, it overtakes you, transforms you until you are all claws and dripping, little fangs. Your body elongates, elegant, and built for speed, viciousness. The horns atop your head are sharp, too, curled the slightest into a crescent shape. The beast in you stretches and pulls at your bones, fits your skin to it in a way that you have come to know well.
(“Cursed technique: Cursed Creature,” Suguru hums, “allows you to turn into a cursed version of yourself, a sort of,” he pauses, looking you over, “monster?”
“That’s right.” You tell him, body trembling all over, in dire need of food. Care. Sleep.
He places a large hand on top of your head, strokes gently, until his hand nudges your cheek, beneath your chin so you are forced to look up into his eyes. Depthless violet.
“You have a deal.”)
The sorcerer is cast backward with the force of your transformation. In this form, everything heightens, sharpening into brilliance. So much brighter, clearer. So much more overwhelming.
You are a flash of darkness when you move, a mass of lethality.
The sorcerer doesn’t stand a chance, the moment you dash past him with a deep swipe of your claws, you know this will be an easy match. You chitter in this form, excited, warbly little sound erupting from you before you careen towards him again.
This time, he is warped away.
But you are fast, changing your trajectory mid-step to catch up to where he was warped.
Except, this time, a white haired sorcerer takes his place.
Your claws meet air.
A growling hiss erupts from your throat.
Satoru Gojo.
Suguru told you to stay away from him. At all costs.
And speak of the devil, your name is called, whistled almost. Your head turns to find Suguru appearing, too.
Faintly, the more human part of you wonders what the occasion is.
For a moment, all you can see is threat. Your hackles rise as your growling gets lower, more sinister, your form moving behind Gojo as if you might circle him, unable to let down your guard.
“Call off your pet,” Gojo says.
Suguru calls your name again and there’s something else in his tone now, a little sharper.
(Fear, you wonder faintly, in some far away part of your mind. Is he worried Gojo would hurt you?)
You come to heel at Suguru’s side, remaining in this form, making a low, threatening sound still. Warning. Your claws still drip with the blood of that sorcerer.
“Go,” Suguru says to you.
Your head snaps to look at him, eyes narrowing. “I’m not leaving,” you snap and the words have a bite to it, around the curves of your fangs. You look back at Gojo. If this comes to blows, you don’t want Suguru facing Gojo alone–you don’t want to leave his back suddenly unguarded.
It’s counterintuitive to you, goes against all of your instincts. You don’t leave him, you don’t leave his side, his back.
“Go,” Suguru says, harsher this time and the command seeps into you. You waver. And then, “I won’t tell you again.”
When you hiss at him in that warbling way of curses, he smiles faintly, almost fondly, as your teeth drip with venom. But you do listen to him this time.
And with your heightened hearing, you hear Gojo underneath his breath as you slink away;
“How interesting.”
***
When Suguru returns to you, he is unharmed.
You’d paced the length of the hallway outside of his room in the compound until you could have worn a hole into it.
Few would be brave enough to wait for Suguru outside his door.
When he arrives, he is mildly surprised to see you, before his expression melts into a sort of—smugness. A knowing glint to his eyes.
“Why would you send me away?” You snap.
“You could’ve gone in, you know, if it would’ve soothed you.” Suguru says instead, head nodding towards the door to his suite. “Would you like a key?”
You blanche, taking a half step back, “I don’t—“
It allows him to get to his door and open it. You’ve been here before, in the privacy of his suite, but now it feels strange. A little different. He holds the door open for you.
You glance at the threshold and feel as if you’re making an important decision.
“Come on,” he says smoothly and before you can think twice about it, you are being led inside, his hand drifting somewhere near your lower back. He never touches you, the feeling is a phantom one, the impression of it. You shiver a little.
But you round on him again, “why would you send me away?”
He doesn’t acknowledge you, instead he goes rifling in a drawer, digging around a little.
His suite is larger than others. The living room is open and attached is the kitchen. It’s all light wood, with tall windows that overlook the courtyard. You know, despite never being inside, that his bedroom is down the hall and to the left. The bathroom is across from it. You’ve sat many times on the floor of his living room with him, going over assignments, plans that he has, and what he’d like you to do.
When he finds what he’s looking for, he makes a soft noise, before turning to you with a small, gold key.
“I don’t want a key!” You snap.
“It’s a spare, take it just in case.” He replies and when you don’t move to grab it from him, he takes your hand in his much larger one, and opens your palm to him.
He places the key in your hand.
And then his eyes catch yours, “you were worried.”
“No-!” you get out, “I don’t like being—I’m supposed to protect you.”
Suguru smiles, hand still swallowing yours, “isn’t that sweet?” he remarks, “an Omega attempting to protect an Alpha.”
Immediately, you jerk away from him.
The key is still in your shaking fist.
“Don’t start,” you snarl, low and vicious and hurt, “I’ve always been the one at your side.”
“Yes,” he agrees, hand falling back down to his side listlessly. “I already told you that.”
You’ve always been at my side, he’d said, when he was trying to convince you to–
“That’s not what I meant!” Your voice rises without your consent and you feel an embarrassed, angry flush through your face for being so worked up. The room is thick with your worry and anger and frustration, all of your pent up energy like a knot in your chest, in your voice. It’s in your heart and the way you look at him.
“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” Suguru says easily, “it’s still the truth.”
When you slam the door this time, you hear something fall from the wall.
But the key is still in your trembling hand, digging indents into your palm, and your heart is still a beast in your chest.
And behind the closed door, Suguru Getou smiles fondly, and retrieves the fallen, shattered frame from the floor.
***
For a while, you avoid Suguru.
You stuff the key he gave you in your nightstand drawer, far in the back, in an attempt to keep it out of sight and out of your mind.
And at first, you think he is respecting your boundaries; you receive assignments through others from him. You see him only in passing and he never speaks directly to you. He hardly acknowledges you.
But after a week and a half, it begins to feel like punishment.
And the key is starting to burn and itch in your mind. You think about it at night, tossing over in your bed; you think about unlocking his door at this hour. What would you find? Would he be asleep? Awake? Alone? Fully dressed?
You think of him half bare and lounging, hair slipping over his shoulders, and the scent of sandalwood and fig. Tonka or something woodsy, maybe. You know it well and it lingers long after he leaves you.
You suddenly miss it, crave it.
Him.
You twist beneath your sheets.
Why did he have to–
You make a soft noise of frustration, turning over again.
You’re restless.
Something beneath your skin begins to itch and squirm.
Previously, Suguru had hardly mentioned your status as an Omega. He rarely acknowledged it; you were too brilliant of a sorcerer for him to care, you thought. You were too powerful. The only instance he brought it up was to scent you, a form of caution in a particular instance, for a particular mission. The memory still simmers in your mind, the way he’d rubbed the gland on your wrist with a careful thumb. He’d given you clothes of his to wear. He’d had you sit in his quarters for long hours, until it seemed as if you were his, in some way.
But now that he’s actually brought it up, offered you his bite, to be his, it paints him in an entirely different light.
Had he always…wanted you?
Was he always planning this?
The naive, desperate parts of you want to believe this is a recent thought of his. Previous to this, he only ever saw you as another sorcerer, a powerful one that aided him. You had always been one of the closer ones to him, at his heel, his beck and call.
You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of Suguru this way; as an Alpha. An unmated one, who kept your company.
And he does, no matter how badly it burns to admit it, protect you.
You know he wards off Alphas.
You know he perhaps does more than even that.
But you don’t want—
You don’t want to be mated.
You don’t want to suddenly be coddled by him, held back, don’t want to be the little thing that keeps his bed warm.
Your face heats with the thought.
Images flash through your mind, flickering, melting together like film that bleeds and runs, of him overtop you. Shrouding you. His hair on your shoulders and back. You think of his mouth on your throat, teeth in your neck.
You rub at your eyes suddenly as if to clear them.
You know he leaves on a mission for a week in two days.
You assume, at some point, he’ll speak to you. And break this strange silence.
You’ll both return to normal then.
And then perhaps you won’t lose any more sleep over him.
***
Suguru never says goodbye to you.
It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does—you just figured he’d finally drop this silly little silence game.
You suppose he must’ve thought the same of you.
Besides, what were you expecting from him? An apology? It’s foolish to even entertain. You knew you weren’t going to apologize either. The least you’ll do, when he returns, is act as if all is normal again. Perhaps it’s better that way, not to address what he’s put in his head recently.
The more you speak of it, or think of it, the worse it unravels in your mind.
On the second day that he is gone, you realize you miss his scent.
You realize it has become such a staple in your everyday life that its sudden disappearance is almost alarming. It makes you more irritable, more vicious. You snap at the others faster, bite out insults and brutalities.
You—
Well, you miss it.
Him, maybe.
The admittance is a hard one to swallow around. It burns going down.
On the third day, you’re genuinely craving his scent in a way that makes your teeth ache. You had no idea you could even miss a scent like this, need it so bad that your body would betray you with a physical pain in your chest. Somewhere in your mouth, under your tongue.
You try to ignore it.
You go on with your life.
But by the fifth day, you are agitated and aggressive. Everyone knows something is wrong with you. You know something is wrong with you. You can feel it beneath your skin, crawling, squirming. It makes you want to tear out your hair, rip at your nails, or sink your teeth into something. You’re restless.
You can’t sleep.
You can hardly eat or think.
And as you lay awake in your bed, kicking at sheets, sweating and twisting, you know what it is you need.
You’ve known the whole week.
You throw back the covers and wrench open your bedside drawer.
The key rattles, hot, like it knows it’s finally about to be used. It’s musical sound a siren song, it’s been burning away in there the whole week.
You swipe it and turn sharply from your bedroom. From your own apartment.
It’s the middle of the night; not a soul sees you in the compound.
Like a person possessed, you walk. Your back is straight. Your steps are quick. Your mind is set, on fire.
Suguru’s door has haunted you the whole week.
The key in your hand digs into the flesh, carving it’s divots there like your hand might be the lock itself.
You try not to think about it–you unlock the door. You throw it open.
You shut it behind you, slide the lock back into place.
Darkness greets you.
You wander in like you know the place (you do, you do–)
You wander in like it’s yours to wander in.
Instantly, something loosens inside of you.
You exhale hard.
Inhale sharp.
The smell of him, fainter because he’s been gone, assaults your senses, sweeps over them. You take in a lungful like gasping for air, you smell faint traces of fig and sandalwood. Notes of tonka that you long for, that urge you to move deeper into his space.
In the dark, you make your way down the hall, towards his bedroom.
You haunt the arch for a moment.
Guilt or regret or embarrassment almost seize you. They make you pause.
Some sane part of you is clawing at your insides, wailing to turn around and leave. Leave now.
But he gave you a key.
He gave you a key, you think in circles, again and again. He gave me a key.
You cross the threshold.
You sink down into his bed and his scent is strongest here, even still, after several days it’s his.
You turn over the covers to get beneath them, cool sheets against your legs, sliding and smooth. You turn your face into his pillow and inhale.
A soft little groan works it’s way out of you.
Instantly, your muscles slacken.
Everything leeches from you; your anger and irritation and restlessness.
It soothes you so deeply and so swiftly it makes your head spin.
You curl beneath his blankets and take deep pulls of breath, squirming a moment if only to bring his scent tighter around you. You envelope yourself in it.You shroud yourself in it.
And finally, after five days of restless nights, you fall asleep almost instantly.
Not a single dream. Not one moment where you wake or stir.
You sleep deeply.
In the morning, the sun warms you through the broad windows like a content cat.
You stretch lazily like one, too.
Suguru will be home tomorrow.
You know you need to leave his bed, hope that your scent dissipates by the time he returns.
You didn’t do anything wrong, you know—he gave you a key.
He gave you a key.
But rather, you know he would never let you live it down. He would use it instantly, as ammunition for his argument, the debate that the two of you keep circling.
You don’t quite leave as quickly as you should still, though:
You linger.
You’re comfortable.
Calmed for the first time all week.
And when you do slip out, it’s silently, locking the door behind you.
Like maybe you won’t ever let yourself back in there, trying to shut it like it was a one time indulgence and gone now from your mind and body.
But his scent clings to you.
And little do you know, your scent clings to his sheets—and to Suguru, it’s sweet as can be and unmistakable—irreplaceable.
He collapses in his own bed when he returns and knows you’ve been all over it. He can smell the crush of dark berries, jasmine, the soothing note of vanilla that clings to you, that he’s come to adore.
He grins to himself and knows then, he’s got you right where he wants you.
***
For a moment, you think Suguru is going to make you be the bigger person and apologize upon his return.
Instead, he finds you.
And he doesn’t say he’s sorry for his recent behavior, but he does say;
“I’d prefer if you didn’t avoid me in the future.”
It feels like sorry enough.
And for some time, things return to a state of normal.
A version of it.
It isn’t quite like it was before—in fact, you seem to spend more time around him than previously. He calls on you more. He brings you into his space more frequently, often urging you to eat with him, beside him, at his table.
This is ideal for you. Close but not too close.
Although, he begins to ask, don’t you have your key? Can’t you let yourself in?
You say you haven’t used it.
He hums like he knows differently, but doesn’t press you.
Until finally he asks you to retrieve a notebook in his study and bring it to him.
Fetch, he says.
“It’s locked, isn’t it?”
“You have your key.” He answers simply, not looking up from the book he is reading.
For a moment, you almost protest, but something stops you. Maybe the twitch in his brow.
It’s a useless argument to pick, anyways.
You do have a key.
It would be fastest, easiest, to just use it.
So you do.
And you hand him the notebook he asked for, fingers brushing against his as he takes it from you with gentle hands.
“Thank you,” he adds, voice so smooth and low, almost tempting.
You swallow a little.
Then you quickly avert your gaze.
“Whatever,” you grouse, but he smiles fondly, amused.
And it opens another door, more than just the one to his suite.
***
Tentatively, you begin to come and go.
The first (second) time you use your key to enter without his order, he is careful not to react to you any differently than how he usually does.
His eyes brighten a little, though, like a leopard that’s caught something interesting in its sights and is waiting to see what it’ll do.
Still, you grow more comfortable entering his space on your own.
You claim portions of it; a corner of the couch. A particular cushion around his low table. All of the sunny patches in his suite become yours, scented with you, indented with you. More than that, some horrible, hidden part of you adores that your scent is all over his space.
It’s comforting to find it beside his scent.
It soothes a part of you that you don’t wish to admit to.
His hands grow bolder.
Now they’re always hovering at the small of your back, the nape of your neck. He tucks strands of your hair away from your face and though you jerk away from him, it’s often half-hearted. You snip at him and he only smiles.
Pleased. Smug. Knowing.
His hands guide you as you walk beside him.
You grow accustomed to his touch in some way—he makes sure of it.
Then, as if to prove something—
Another cult member begins to cause trouble with you; he is another Omega. He begins with snide comments and remarks that test your patience. He doesn’t stop until you are growling and bristled and ready for a fight.
And all it takes to stop you is Suguru’s large hand coming down on the nape of your neck.
His thumb rests atop one scent gland at your throat, fingertips pressing delicately into the one on the other side. Hand wrapped around the back of your neck.
“Easy,” he murmurs and just like that, you can feel some of your aggression slip from you, deflate like a balloon.
It’s involuntary, the energy and anger unspooling from your body in an instant. In the back of your mind, you’re alarmed; how easily it was for him to effect you. It’s terrifying.
You swat his hand away, lurching from him, another little growl in your throat.
But you don’t fight him or the look in his eyes, the way he tilts his chin up in the barest hint of dominance.
You storm off.
Instances as such continue to happen, though, where he’s able to sooth or quell your temperament with a touch. A word. A look.
It comes to a head while you’re eating dinner with him.
“You’re so wound up,” Suguru comments lightly, “your scent is so sharp with it. What’s bothering you?”
Reflexively, you snap, “you are.”
And it’s meant to be some sort of insult but Suguru’s lips twist into this hitched little smile. “It’s my fault you’re wound up?” He asks lightly.
“Don’t twist my words.” You respond, fixing him with a glare, “you bother me.”
He’s still deeply amused by this, you can tell by the twinkle in his eyes. The smug way he holds himself.
“Would you like me to help you?” He asks.
“No,” you say reflexively.
A beat of silence before he says, “come here. I’ll help you.”
There’s a command in his voice, laced there, and doing something strange to your head.
You hesitate.
He pounces, “just a massage.” He soothes, “I can tell your shoulders are knotted up and tense. I can see it.”
His voice has dropped into that soothing lull.
Warily, “away from my glands?”
He smiles, “of course.” And then, “come here.”
Your body moves easily now and he murmurs, “sit in front of me. Back to me—there, that’s it.”
It feels more vulnerable than it should to show your back to him, to sit in front of him like a child to their mother. You try to keep your posture straight and careful.
But then he sets large, warm hands to your shoulders. His fingers dig into the meat of them gently, pressing into your muscles which spasm and twitch in pain. You yelp, jerking away.
Suguru tsks, “see how tense you are? You’re in pain.” He scolds softly and you feel heat smart across your face, “sit still for me. I’ll be gentler.”
True to his word, he eases up, fingers careful as they run into your tense muscles.
He finds bundles of twisted up tension in your back and shoulders, pressing into them until a noise springs from you—a groan, a whimper, a little growl. He works the sounds out of you. You swear he’s doing it deliberately and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was all just to humiliate you a little.
But you finally loosen and slacken for him.
When you finally sink into his hands, he murmurs, “I don’t know why you fight this so badly.”
You let go of a heavy sigh, “you do know why. Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”
“Because you’re stubborn?” Suguru asks lightly and you snort, despite yourself, “because you don’t know what’s good for you?”
“You’re no good for me.” You respond.
Suguru’s turn to sigh and if he digs his fingers in to make you yip in pain, he’d never say it was purposeful.
“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”
Reflexively, you jerk away from his touch, you turn to look at him over your shoulder with a sneer.
“I’m not a pet.”
Suguru does not heed your warning and instead gently pulls you back towards him by your waist.
“No?” He asks lightly, fingers resuming their steady massage. You go completely still like prey, unsure, wary. Angry. Humiliated. “It’s not a bad thing to be a pet. You’re thinking about it all wrong.”
His fingers ease up towards your neck and you stiffen again.
“Suguru,” you say in warning as he nears your scent glands. Perhaps to what he’s said.
“You’re my pet now,” he continues, “though you don’t like to admit it. It’s not so bad, is it?”
Stubbornly, you don’t answer him.
But after a moment, you say, “if I’m already yours, why do you need this last bit of me? If you already see me as your pet, why do you want me so terribly, in this way—“
Suguru suddenly pulls you back deeper, into his lap, against his chest.
You squirm, but he holds you tight, hooks his chin over your shoulder.
Alarm bells ring frantically in your head now that he’s so close to the glands in your throat.
“Don’t play dumb,” Suguru muses, half-mocking, “it doesn’t suit you.”
“Let me go,” you snarl low and hot.
“What are you scared of?” Suguru responds, “that I’d trap you? If you’d take my Bite, I’d let you roam further than I do now. You’d be safe.”
“Liar,” you hiss, “I’m not dumb.”
“I’m not trying to stifle you, I’m trying to set you free.” Suguru almost purrs and his voice is warm and low and creeping up over your spine and trying to find its way inside you.
You begin to squirm this time, thrashing in his hold until you manage to wriggle free, falling forward onto your hands and knees.
Instinctively, you turn to keep your back protected, scrambling away from him. You bare your teeth at him.
“I don’t believe you.”
He watches this show of aggression with amusement, tilting his head slightly. And then he sighs, “I don’t think anything I say will convince you at this point.”
You narrow your eyes at the tone. Your hackles rise.
In an instant, he has grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you back to him.
Underneath him.
You shove hard at him, twisting and fighting as he settles himself over you.
You realize how solid he is, how strong, and large. He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Suguru,” you hiss at him, pushing as hard as you can on his chest.
“See how easy it was for me to subdue you?” He says then, voice smooth and low. “If I wanted to take you, I simply would’ve already. You’re no challenge to me; if I wanted to trap you, I would’ve.”
“Get off me!”
You thrash hard beneath him and in an instant, he has your hands uselessly pinned above your head, stretching you out beneath him.
His nose dips, near the scent gland at your throat. You squirm.
He squeezes your wrists, “stop squirming.” He murmurs low, “or my instinct will be to bite.”
Your stomach does a horrible flip, a flutter of—fear, excitement.
“Just—get off—leave me alone!” You get out, voice high and tight. You try not to arch away from the way he lets his face fall to the crook of your neck.
“Hush,” Suguru hisses, nudging his nose beneath your ear.
He’s scenting you.
He’s done this before and despite everything in you, you finally go slack. You force yourself not to tilt your head or offer up more, rather let him urge you into the way that he prefers.
He nudges his cheek and nose against your jaw. He lets out a relieved breath, fitting more of his body to you and you feel the push of chest into yours, his hips.
You squirm a little and a growl erupts from his throat.
You fight back the sound that almost works its way out of you now, swallow around it.
When he’s finished, he asks, “would you like to scent me?” And instinctively, you want to say yes, but you temper yourself. Then he adds, “I’m sending you away on a mission alone. I’ll be scenting you until the day you leave now.”
You catch his eyes, glinting.
“So, I thought it only fair if you’d like to scent me, too.”
You don’t know why, but something squirms inside of you, something a little hurt.
“You’re sending me away?”
Suguru hums softly, “I need you to take care of something for me. I only trust you to do it.”
You flex your hands a little in his hold, but he doesn’t budge.
He nudges at your jaw again, gentle, and murmurs, “this would be easier if you’d take my mark.”
You turn your head then to shield your throat, and face him. His nose nearly brushes yours and you look up at him through your lashes. You bite your tongue from any further complaints, dipping down to the crux of his throat now.
Easily, perhaps eagerly, he bares his throat for you.
Satisfaction erupts beneath your skin as his scent washes over you, dark fig and oud, sandalwood and musk. Carefully, your nose runs along the column of his throat.
“I’m not even—“ you huff, retry, “I haven’t had a Heat in—it wouldn’t take, anyways.”
“Ah,” Suguru says and you wish you hadn’t told him at all. Realization dawns over his features the way a cat might realize it’s caught its mouse beneath its paws. “Is this what you’re so scared of?”
“No—I prefer it this way. It’s another reason that you can’t. It wouldn’t work.” You say stubbornly and perhaps in your irritation, you burrow further down into the crook of his neck, tuck your cheek to his skin to nudge.
“I could give you a temporary one,” he murmurs, “I’d let you do the same in return, of course.”
You go quiet, brushing your lips against his skin, hesitating.
“I don’t need it.” You finally decide, even as you let the blunt side of a tooth nick gently against his neck. “I can protect myself.” You pull away to look at him again, “am I not one of your strongest?”
“You are my strongest.” He agrees, he praises. “But am I not also strong?” He asks, “and yet you still insist on protecting me.”
You open your mouth to protest, but he takes your chin in hand suddenly, words dying before they can escape.
“You are my strongest.” He says, “I would like the world to be aware of it.”
“I told you, I don’t want to be yours–”
“Then stop protecting me. Flee. Run away and never return.” Suddenly, his touch, his body, all of him is gone. He rolls off of you and onto his back beside you. Cold air sweeps in. You can feel his touch like burning imprints on your skin.
You turn your head to the side to look at him.
“You would hunt me down if I ran.”
A flicker of a smile ghosts his face.
“And if I ran from you?” He asks, “if I discarded you?”
Something twists so viciously and sharply in your chest that your eyes sting with it. You lock your jaw tight. You stare up at the ceiling.
“You refuse to speak but your scent is spiced with distress, sour with despair.” He turns to look at you, “not so easy to hear, is it?”
“I can’t stand you or your games.” You get out.
“There are no games.” He says evenly, “only the one you’re playing with yourself.”
You scoff, “which is?”
He sits up slightly, over you, looking down at you, the inky silk of his dark hair sliding over one shoulder.
“Seeing how long you can outrun what you want.”
You exhale roughly, in exasperation, and then you ask dryly, “and what do I want, Suguru?”
“To be taken care of.”
“I don’t need–”
He cuts off your growl before it can start, taking your chin in hand to turn your head towards him once more. “You never have, but it doesn’t mean you can’t want it.”
“I don’t want it either.” You snap. “You have some grand delusion of me in your mind that I am some weak, submissive creature in need of your care.”
“I’ve said none of that, have I?” He hums. “Now you’re twisting my words, being purposefully churlish–in hopes of, what? To scare me off?”
His palm opens up against your jaw, your cheek. His thumb touches your bottom lip.
“You snap and you snarl and posture as some ferocious, independent creature to scare everyone off. I don’t blame you–I am certain you protected yourself many times this way from lesser people.” His voice is soft, almost a lull, you allow his palm to open against your lips, to turn your face into the cup of his hands. “You don’t believe anyone can handle you and you hope if you bite hard enough, tear into them, they’ll run off. And then you’ll feel vindicated; you were right, you are too much to handle. You were right, you are a monster. You’re unworthy of care or companionship or protection.”
His hand moves upward, baring his wrist to your mouth now, “go on,” he encourages, “bite me. As hard as you like. Scream and cry and tear into me. Loathe me and scorn me.” He leans closer, over you, as he hushes like a mother to their child, “I’ll still be here, with the rings of your teeth marks littered in my skin. I’ll be the only one, bruised and bloody, still taking care of you–no matter how badly you fight me.”
Out of anger or frustration or something else entirely, tears prick your eyes. As if to hide them, you open your mouth against his wrist, gentle first–warm and soft lips and tongue. He looks enraptured. He looks starving.
You sink your teeth into his skin viciously.
He hisses in pain, sharp, but doesn’t pull away. “There,” he coos, leaning over you, sinking into the pain, “is that what you wanted?”
Blood bursts into your mouth in a way that is almost startling, sharp and metallic. It should be gross and horrible and–you whine a little, somewhere in the back of your throat and bear down harder.
If that’s what he promises, you’ll make him prove it.
If he wants to be the one beside you, you’ll make him pay.
He leans down to kiss at your cheeks, gentle, humming. You realize there are tears. Your jaw aches.
But you don’t let go and he doesn’t even flinch.
“Does that feel better? To get your teeth into someone who isn’t scared of you?” He murmurs, nudging at your tense jaw, kissing there. “Shall I do the same to you?”
You release his wrist and shove him off, hard enough that he gives and he goes.
You stand up and storm out of his chambers, slamming the door on its hinges as hard as you can. You hope it knocks over every painting on his walls. You hope the entire compound somehow hears it. You hope it breaks something in the same way that something has been broken open inside of you.
You wipe his blood from your mouth with the back of your hand.
Suguru doesn’t even bandage the wound. And he wears his sleeves high, so that all the world might see it.
#suguru getou x reader#suguru geto x reader#getou suguru x reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru getou x you#getou suguru x you#suguru geto x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#cw: omegaverse#cw: yandere#cielo writes!#cielo's writing!
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