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#ps also like. half the time i ALSO do not know what is going on in my tags đŸ„° so that makes two of us akdjskdn
mad-hunts · 1 month
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okay, so from what i've gathered, just for those who uhh. might be curious about what barton's type is for no reason in particular (yeah, it's for shipping purposes JSJSJ ) — he is probably simultaneously the least picky person whenever it comes to who he's willing to date out of all my oc's and i honestly find that kind of ironic, because of the fact that he's literally a SERIAL KILLER but... anyways, like i was saying (,: barton does seem to have a certain penchant for liking people / beings who are literally different in any way? and i mean different in a good way, OFC. oh, and he also seems to have a thing for redheads as well as blondes, but i'm going to be talking about the first thing for today 💀
this could also range from being just like different as in having an 'unusual' appearance / having mutant abilities or being able to practice magic. and, of course, being something a little bit more... significant, i guess you could say. because he would get with a supernatural being and fawn over them in a way that would make you think 'well, maybe they've known each other for a while, so that's why he's acting like he's completely whipped for them?' but nope. in reality, barton just sometimes seems to take one look at a being — who, for example, might be an eldritch horror creature or something — and thinks ' damn. i am in between wanting to study them in a clinical setting and wanting to study this species's courting rituals because i am trying to WIFE them up ' SKSKSK LMAO
nooo, but if any of my moots on here were to want to ship with me if you aren't already, but are nervous about asking me about me whether i'd be interested in doing so because they're like a supernatural creature or something... then please don't be afraid to HMU because barton is literally the most shameless monster hand-holder + monster kisser if i'm being honest
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crossbackpoke-check · 4 months
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hi! i do not particularly go here (hockeyblr) except through proximity (moots) but i just wanna say that i LOVE your tags. every time i see you in the notes of a post i’m like “i did not know this man’s name until approximately two moments ago but i Will read and enjoy every tag as if i know what’s going on”. i’m having a blast. anyway, thank you for sharing your thoughts!!!! have a good one <3
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that’s what i’m here for!! treasuring this message and i’m so happy you’re here having a blast with me đŸ„č
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ahundredtimesover · 8 months
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I Want You to Stay (04) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 11.4k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
PlaylistÂ đŸŽ¶: on the way home
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A/N: Hiii I'm getting slower with editing and writing so please bear with me moving forward! Also pls remember, this is a slow burn haha. But anyway, been loving your replies (I see you) and messages, thank you. I hope you enjoy this one!
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  đŸ„°
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
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The events of last weekend remain in your mind, as you approach Jungkook’s apartment the next Monday and feel like your heart will leap out of your chest. 
You remind yourself that he wasn’t angry at you; he’d even tried to apologize and didn’t make a fuss when you left the restaurant last Saturday. But still, the whole incident would make anyone feel agitated, and you know his capacity to feel and express that. He was inconvenienced and put on the spot, after all. 
You enter, and shortly after, Jungkook exits the gym then greets you with a nod when he sees you. He looks more tired than anything. He doesn’t have a hint of frustration in his eyes, and you could only hope that he’d forgotten about what happened or, like how he is when it comes to personal matters, he’d chosen not to acknowledge it. 
You bow in return, sneaking a glance as he walks towards his bedroom, with your throat drying up when he removes his shirt, briefly gracing you with a view of his glistening toned back right before disappearing inside. You wait half a minute before you follow him to prepare his clothes, giving yourself time to breathe before you have to face him again. You return to the kitchen and prepare his breakfast, looking up when you hear him walk in.
You approach him to do an act that’s become a routine for you, and for him as well, as he stands straight and unmoving while you tighten his tie and make sure he looks fine. Even when your fingers only graze his clothed chest, the memory from last Saturday becomes vivid, as you recall wiping his wine-soaked top, feeling the taut body underneath. 
You shake your head at the thought, realizing that there are more things about that night that you should not acknowledge at all, including the heat you felt at seeing him in the washroom, a little exposed and definitely sweaty. There was that tension and the dropping of formalities that felt too foreign and quite disorienting. You don’t know him as anything other than the ‘Mr. Jeon’ you assist; seeing him as just ‘Jungkook’ was different. But you suppose that that’s the man you help everyday, and you wonder how much of himself he leaves behind in the office and how much of him now is just
 him. 
As you go about your routine during breakfast, you’re reminded that for Jungkook, there doesn’t seem to be a difference. How he is at work is the same as how he is elsewhere - serious, quiet, and detached. Except maybe when he’s with those women he meets at clubs, though. Perhaps the thrill and pleasure inject a bit of emotion and passion in him. You wouldn’t know, but at least it’s a way for him to take a break from the responsibilities he carries. 
You scold yourself internally again. You’re not supposed to be curious; you’re not supposed to care. So you shake all of them away and remind yourself of who you are and your own distance that you should observe.
You get to your senses and proceed accordingly. You go about as usual in the morning with his meetings, and then he shuts his office so he could focus in the afternoon. You see his furrowed brows from the window, as he works on what seems to be the Arts Center again, given his requests for financial and marketing reports of the company's non-residential projects from the last five years.  
You’re busy with organizing his Singapore trip and coordinating with the CEO’s office about the upcoming Appointment Dinner to formally introduce the new appointees, when he exits his room and looks through the folders lined on the shelf behind you.
“Where are the portfolios of our collaboration projects from 2017?” He asks. 
“They’re in the archive room,” you answer, standing up to head there. 
But he does it first, beating you to the corner area just off the hallway to the left. Your steps are obviously not at pace with his, and he’s tiptoeing to reach for a large folder by the time you get there. He’s able to retrieve it, laying it on the ledge as he goes through some pages. 
“I could’ve gotten that,” you say softly, and Jungkook turns to you and wishes he hadn’t, as your pout makes his insides melt. 
There’s something about your disappointment that you didn’t get to help him that makes his heart race a little, and while he knows it has everything to do with you thinking that he’d think you’re not doing your job properly, he still likes to keep the thought that you’d wanted to help him in the first place.
“It was heavy,” he explains. 
“I’ve carried and pulled and pushed things way heavier than that folder,” you scoff. 
“Really?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, trying not to show amusement on his face. “My cousin let you do all those things, huh?”
You frown at his attempt to catch you slipping. “I do many things in the background during events, Mr. Jeon, things that get everything functioning properly while Mr. Jung engages with the guests.”
Jungkook can only imagine how much work you put into getting those events hosted by the VP’s office running. Perhaps retrieving heavy folders is no big deal for you. But still, he doesn’t want to come across as a jerk for making you do something he can do on his own. He already was, he reminds himself, and you also definitely think he is;  he doesn’t want to add to that any more, not after everything that’s happened. 
So he just nods. “It’s a simple task I can do.”
Jungkook looks at the labeled boxes and folders. He’s got materials and design points to finalize by tonight. There are some more past projects he wants to go through to take inspiration from, and he finds another one he wants to look at, underestimating its weight, which is why he jerks in surprise when he feels how heavy it really is.
You’re there on cue, as if you knew it was gonna be too much. And if he’d asked you, you probably would’ve told him so. 
You’re standing much closer to him, your fingers grazing against his as you hold onto the folder. It’s almost familiar, only because you stood this close to him that night at the restaurant, too - when you cleaned him up, and then when you handed him his clothes in the washroom. You actually stand this close to him everyday when you fix his tie. Perhaps after all that, it’s only dawning on you just how little space between you two there are sometimes, and you’re suddenly hyper aware - of the distance, of his scent, of the way he’s looking back at you when you turn to look at him. 
“It was heavy,” he admits. 
And for some reason, you laugh. Maybe it’s the slightly embarrassed look on his face or it’s just your defense mechanism when you feel tense but you let out an amused sound, with it fading as the time goes by and you realize you’re actually laughing at your boss. 
“Making fun of me, Ms. Cho?”
“I
 I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you stammer, stepping away. 
You’re about to mentally curse yourself until you see his slight smirk, and the thought of him making fun at you by scaring you like that makes you feel better. He may have some sense of humor after all. 
Still, you bow in apology, and there’s a moment when you meet his eyes, with something not anger or frustration in them, that you both linger, as if there are things both of you feel that need to be said; you just don’t know what they are.
“Did the dry cleaners get to remove the wine stains?” You manage to get some words out, turning away now as you bring up last Saturday night. 
“Uh, yeah,” he responds. There’s a pause before he continues. “Did
 did you get home okay?”
You’re too stunned to be able to answer right away but you eventually do. “Uh, yeah. Jimin, Soomin, and I just bought food and then went to my apartment. And you?”
“I did,” he nods.
“Did
 did Hajoon bother you again after we left?”
“No. Well, he just kept giving me the death stare but he didn’t do anything else,” he says. 
“I really don’t know what got him so worked up,” you sigh, feeling bolder at having to share this much. “He’s not usually confrontational and he knows I hate it. That shouldn’t have happened.”
“People have their reasons for getting angry. They’re not always valid, though, and definitely not always warranted,” Jungkook replies, briefly looking away. “Whatever it is, at least he didn’t throw a punch.”
“Oh, if he did, that is it for me,” you chuckle, feeling unfamiliar with being able to talk to Jungkook so casually like this. “Goodbye, job; goodbye, Seoul. I will probably just work as a librarian somewhere.”
Jungkook wants to say he wouldn’t accept your resignation for that reason, that he doesn’t want you to go anywhere, actually. But that’s too much and probably inappropriate to say given the circumstances. So he just hums and turns back to the folder and looks through them. 
“I’ll need these back in my room,” he says, carrying one while you take the other. 
You appreciate the topic change, knowing you won’t know how to handle more if the conversation deepens. You both walk back quietly, as it dawns on you that the casual nature you both talked to each other is a little disorienting. 
You’re not used to him sounding concerned.
He’s not used to you being honest and open. 
Perhaps seeing a different side of him isn’t all that bad, you think. 
Jungkook wants to believe it’s your way of forgiving him, too, even if he hasn’t actually apologized for anything. 
The minute it takes to return to your respective desks ends, and Jungkook is back to focusing on his designs while you get back to making reservations. You peek inside his room every once in a while to check if he’s okay, if there’s anything else he needs, if there’s anything you can do for him. 
The frustrated look on his face isn’t new, but the fact that it isn’t directed at you, is. So is the worried feeling you have for him. You’re a mix of emotions from everything that’s happened this past month, so you can’t deny that the way he’s been acting towards you has left you confused, maybe even doubtful. You have to be cautious, you think, and not fall into a comfortable dynamic with him so easily. 
The next day, he’s back to being serious once again, as you sit to his right in the restaurant that will be catering the upcoming VP event. Jungkook decided for both of you to have the food tasting for lunch, and so a spread has been prepared for him to make the final decision on the menu. 
You’d like to think that you’ve developed quite a sophisticated palate, all thanks to the numerous events that Hoseok asked you to organize in your three years working under him. With this upcoming dinner party a sort of introduction of Jungkook and the project to the art world, he wants to make sure that he serves only the best to the guests, which is why he carefully tastes each dish, trying to determine the best combination that’s both delicious and creative. 
You give your comments, some of which he acknowledges, and you feel like you’re both making headway in terms of the menu, as well as with his disposition for the day, given that he’s looking more comfortable and relaxed than he was half an hour ago.
That is, until he sips his wine for the first time, and clears his throat.
“I believe I specifically said that lunch today is a work matter, Ms. Cho,” he says sternly. “You’re on the clock and this isn’t a break.”
“Y—yes, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, curious as to the reason for his statement.
“Then why is your boyfriend waiting outside the restaurant, trying to catch your attention?”
“What?” You exclaim, turning around and spotting Hajoon standing by the lamppost, his sullen eyes getting a bit of light in them once they meet yours. “I
 I don’t know,” you respond. “I haven’t spoken to him since Saturday.”
“How did he know you’re here, then?”
“His restaurant is just up the street,” you sigh. “He must’ve seen me when he was walking there. This area is his usual route. Please just ignore him.”
“I can’t when he’s in my peripheral vision. He’s still the man who got in my face the other night. He clearly wants to speak to you and I don’t think he’ll go away,” Jungkook reasons. 
You look at him, waiting for his instructions. 
Jungkook doesn’t like that Hajoon is there and he also doesn’t want you to speak with him during work hours, especially if it’s going to affect you for the rest of the day. But the man seems desperate and persistent; he really doesn’t seem like he’ll just let this moment of seeing you pass.
“You have five minutes,” Jungkook says. 
You don’t exactly want to go out there; there’s a reason why you haven’t returned Hajoon’s texts or calls these past days. But you can imagine that it’s a worse look for him to be staying around; a distraction during this work matter that you know Jungkook would not appreciate one bit. So you stand up and tell him that you’ll be back shortly.
Jungkook returns to the dish in front of him, noting that the Japanese mushroom risotto is a good addition to the set menu. The event his office is planning includes a sit down dinner and then an offering of canapĂ©s and champagne while guests walk around the venue to see the presentation of the Arts Center in large boards and on screens. It will be a good way for him to socialize - something he’s incredibly nervous about because it’s not his strongest suit, nor is it something he enjoys, unlike his cousin. The primary goal, though, is to introduce the project. Jungkook needs important people on board so they can be involved in the launch and the succeeding special activities.
He tries to think about that night and how he wants to design the place. He tries to think of other things, too, like the music and decor, even if he’d said that’s for both of you to plan next week. He’s even thinking of a follow up already, even if his management support team is in charge of that and would be dependent on how this first one is gonna go. 
Jungkook tries to think of anything, really, just so he won’t constantly be glancing at you in his periphery, as you talk to the man from the other night and possibly make up. You did leave him at the restaurant last Saturday; you also did clarify that you’re not together. You just said you haven’t spoken since then, so it’s safe to say that both of you aren’t in good terms. 
Jungkook can only assume, though. He doesn’t know the story, nor would he ever; he reminds himself he shouldn’t be thinking about it in the first place. He was never one to be privy to his staff’s personal lives; he spent most of his time with Lucas but didn’t know more than his family's composition. Jungkook doesn’t even recall knowing if Lucas had a partner, or if his then-assistant even mentioned it. 
But clearly, Hoseok knows more about you than Jungkook would’ve expected. Perhaps it’s just how his cousin is, or maybe the time spent together just created that environment where it’s natural or normal. Maybe it’s the culture that his father encouraged; his old man is quite close with Mr. Ri - his former chauffeur and bodyguard - and Mrs. Myung - his executive assistant, after all. 
But it’s not what Jungkook is used to; it’s not how he spent his few years in the Singapore office because like always, all he did was work and party. His mentor in graduate school also advised him that professional lines are ones he shouldn’t cross. Though Jungkook never really knew what exactly those were, he just dared not get close to anyone or be remotely interested at all, and that never caused him any problem. He’s always been safe where he was, guarded and unbothered.
But ever since you walked through those doors at Hoseok’s office that first Friday, Jungkook has been finding himself skirting near the boundaries far too often, and it’s only been a month. It began with making sure you’re eating well and that you’re safe on the way to work; he convinces himself that’s human decency, although he never really bothered much before. 
And between wanting you to get proper rest before your trip to your hometown, to seeing you with that man from last weekend and being so bothered by it that it caused a scene, Jungkook’s internal alarm bells are ringing, telling him that he’s getting too interested, too close. It doesn’t help that he finds you attractive, something he doesn’t have control over. What he does have a say in is how he responds to it, and that has been incredibly tough, especially given the weekend he’s had. 
He’d spent the rest of it trying to keep his mind off you - the way you looked in that outfit, the way your touch sent shivers down his spine, the way you’d looked at him worriedly
 And when you walked out of that restaurant, he wondered what you were thinking, how you were feeling, how you’d be spending the rest of the night, and if you were gonna be home okay. He hasn’t really stopped since.
Even now, as he stays in his seat and tightly grips his glass of wine at the scene unfolding outside. 
You’re standing with your arms crossed - setting the boundaries, and perhaps signaling your detachment, though he can’t see your face. The man, on the other hand, seems emotional, the tinge of sadness evident on his face. But there’s a mix of frustration and anger, too, as his arms flail around. He points at you, then at himself. His voice seems raised; Jungkook swears he can see the veins from the man’s neck popping out while you
 you’ve got your head turned to the side, your body not eliciting much of the emotion the way the man’s is. 
Jungkook stops himself from making an excuse for you to come back inside, just so he can pull you away from a conversation that you don’t seem to be wanting to have. But he knows it’s not his place, and the man might make a scene again if Jungkook decides to step in. You know how to stand up for yourself; you’d done it to him, he reminds himself. You’ll do what you need to do, whatever it is.
The man heaves, as whatever monologue he was giving ends. He reaches out to you, perhaps making a final plea, but you step back, widening the distance. It’s what prompts him to bow his head and turn around, leaving you by the lamppost on your own. 
Jungkook sighs in relief now and he waits for you to return, but he’s surprised when you stay rooted in your spot, your arms wrapping around yourself despite the heat outside. He worries when you enter, your head bowed down and unable to look at him. 
He wants to ask how you are, but he’s unsure if he’s ready for your answer, knowing that there isn’t much he can do anyway. So he goes with what he knows - detachment. 
“I’ve chosen the last two dishes,” he says. “They’re serving the desserts soon.”
You turn to him immediately, your misty eyes painted with worry meeting his own.
“I didn’t think I was away that long,” you state, worried about the time you left your boss waiting while dealing with a personal matter that for the first time made you wish you were stuck with Jungkook instead. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon.”
He didn’t expect you to look so upset. He’s terrible at comforting people, but even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t know if he’d manage to comfort you. So he just shrugs and says that they were straightforward dishes. 
You both try the desserts then the canapĂ©s, exchanging thoughts about all the options before shortlisting your chosen dishes. By the time the food tasting is over, you’re stuffed and set for the rest of the day. 
You try not to look at Jungkook. You don’t know if he’d seen how your conversation went with Hajoon, but if he had, he could probably tell what was going on even if he couldn’t hear anything. 
He’s had his moments, but you’ve never seen Hajoon look that upset and emotional, and you stood there, afraid to face all his feelings that you didn’t know what to do with, all those words that you didn’t know how to take. You’re usually one who’s able to let negative things said to you just go over your head, but something about what he’d said today hit you; you know it’ll take you until tomorrow to get over them.
But you try to get through the rest of the day the way you usually do - going through reports, organizing schedules, finalizing tomorrow’s presentation, and then working on the revised interdepartmental guidelines that Jungkook tasked you to do. 
There are draft letters you send to him, thinking that you’ll work on some administrative matters while he reviews them, but you’re surprised when he calls for you 10 minutes later, saying the letters are approved and you can send them in the morning. You’re left wondering, given that anything you submit to him usually goes through intense scrutiny. Perhaps you’re not used to this easy pass, but you try not to overthink it, given the day you’ve had.
“You can go home, Ms. Cho,” he says as he types away. 
It’s 5:30 PM. Usually this time, he’s still handing you things to review or instructing you on what else to do. 
He seems to pick up on your silence, as without looking at you, he clarifies. “I don’t need you to do things you can do tomorrow. We’ll have meetings all day so I understand if you want to stay behind but you don’t have to.”
He doesn’t seem like he’ll be finishing soon, and you’re really not in the best mood so you nod and bid him goodbye.
The conversation with Hajoon stays in your mind all night and lasts until the next day. You’re in Jungkook’s penthouse the next morning, preparing his breakfast while he takes a shower. 
With your phone snug under your neck, you relay to Soomin what happened yesterday. She was too busy last night for a call and she’s been bugging you since you got in the car - that you continue to ride as per your boss’ instructions - so you finally picked up, knowing how long it usually takes for Jungkook to finish.
“It started with him apologizing, then wondering why I haven’t been picking up his calls, then justifying his actions from last Saturday as him, standing up for me,” you narrate. “Obviously, I didn’t take those too kindly.  But he said he wanted to be with me, like, have an actual relationship. And I said I didn’t want to then he just
 he kinda just said everything he’s been keeping in.”
“Which is what?” Soomin asks.
“That I’m selfish, that I don’t think about what my actions may mean to others, which is silly since I was clear from the start about what I wanted from him,” you sigh. “He said that I act independent but that’s just a front, that deep down I’m a lonely woman who’ll probably push away every person who’s shown me they care until I have no one left and that’s why I’ll be alone forever, which he says is a deep fear that I have because I apparently told him that when I was drunk. And even after all that, he said he still cares about me, that he wants to try to be something for real this time, that if I just let him, he’ll love me right and make me happy and I just backed away, like, why would you—”
The clearing of the throat cuts you off, and you nearly drop the expensive plate due to panic once you look up and see Jungkook standing by the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry for taking a personal call, Mr. Jeon,” you say immediately, putting away your phone. “It won’t happen again.”
You bow your head down in apology, which is why you don’t see the way Jungkook’s eyes soften as he looks at you. Words like that hurt, and he can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like for you hearing them. Still, you went about yesterday with your accomplished tasks and completed deliverables like it didn’t happen, displaying a kind of strength that he could only hope to have.
“Yesterday was a tough, I suppose,” he states, choosing to ignore your apology. 
“It was a normal one,” you brush off, walking towards him to fix his tie, not meeting his gaze. 
Jungkook doesn’t reply, knowing you don’t want to acknowledge that he’d overheard your conversation, which he didn’t mean to walk in on. It did bother him, too; he suddenly wishes he’d fought back if that man was just going to speak to you that way. 
There’s a sadness in your eyes that he tries not to mind and which you try to trivialize. Perhaps the man matters that much to you for you to be feeling this bad; Jungkook doesn’t really know what to do with that thought. So he tries to brush it off, too, telling you instead to be ready for today’s meeting with his father. 
You ask if he’s checked the presentation you worked on, as you added things from the last time. He nods and says he only added minimal details that he came up with last night, and you check to find that he indeed just made minute changes, another thing that you’re thankful for yet wary of, especially given how critical he was about your work in the beginning. 
You continue with your morning routine of debriefing about yesterday’s meetings, then you finalize the Arts Center event’s menu in the car. When you arrive at the office, you wait patiently as he goes through some reports that you’ve checked, then he reviews some memos that he asked you to work on. 
The last one finishes faster than you expected. It seems now that his comments are what you look for, only because it reminds you that he hasn’t changed; somehow that seems like a better thought to have than him suddenly being lenient or lowering his standards for you for some unknown reason. He’s definitely witnessed some of your low moments; you don’t want to think those have anything to do with how he’s been lately.
The meeting with the management support team ends before lunch time, and you work on the minutes and the other things Jungkook had asked of you during the time that he meets with Yoongi in his office. That takes another half hour, and by the time they’re done, you’re done with your tasks, too, so you send those documents to Jungkook for checking in the afternoon.
Another one off the list, you think to yourself. At this point, you’re just going over all your deliverables with a focused mindset and waiting for the day’s end so you can spend time for yourself, just on the couch watching variety shows and movies until the weekend comes when you can do that for longer hours. 
Having your friends over or traveling to Daegu are the only other things you look forward to. You used to look forward to spending the night at Hajoon’s, too; you could at least feel something pleasurable - the closest you could get to any form of intimacy that didn’t require you to bare yourself other than your body. But that’s a thing of the past now - there’s that amazing life-changing toy that Soomin got you last Sunday that’s got you thinking that you’ll be fine being alone for the rest of your life.
“Long day, huh?” 
You look up and see Yoongi, his curious eyes scanning your desk full of papers, folders, and half-eaten biscuits.   
“It has been,” you sigh.
“I see. It’s also only just 12 noon,” he points out.
“What a shocking revelation, Min Yoongi,” you grunt. “I don’t need to be reminded that I have another six hours here.”
“Hmm, just like me. So, what are you looking forward to when you clock out?”
“My leftover stir-fry for dinner that I’m going to add beef to,” you respond. “And The Zone. I missed it last Monday.”
“You and your variety shows,” he chuckles.
“What other reason do I have to laugh, hmm?”
“I’d say me, but you don’t find me funny.”
“You aren’t, sorry,” you smile, your first of the day, and Yoongi smiles back, knowing you haven’t been doing it the past few weeks.
“So–”
“Ms. Cho,” Jungkook’s voice cuts Yoongi off, as your boss stands by his open door with curious eyes that flit from you to the man in front of you. He recovers though, as he instructs, “the minutes are fine. Send it to the team now so they can work on their tasks.”
“You’ve read it?” You speak too soon, realizing a second too late that the words didn’t stay in your head. Your widened eyes don’t help you though, as Jungkook scowls at you.
“Are you asking me if I’ve read the file that I just approved and instructed you to disseminate?”
Yoongi purses his lips to hold off a laugh, and you glare at him because his teasing isn’t really what you need right now. 
“I meant, uh, you’ve reviewed it already, sir? I
 thought
 you were going to prepare for the lunch meeting instead,” you reason, which isn’t even a lie. 
“I have. Father hasn’t called me up so I just reviewed the minutes while waiting.”
You look at the file and see that nothing has been added. “And? That’s it?”
“Ms. Cho, are you questioning my ability to review?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he starts to look displeased, although they seem harmless compared to his frustrated expressions from the past. 
“No, Mr. Jeon, I apologize,” you say. “I was wondering if you didn’t have anything more to add, that’s all.”
“There’s none,” he clarifies. “Just send it to the team and uh
 get ready for the meeting.”
He glances at Yoongi before closing the door.
“Questioning your boss’ ability to review now, huh?” Yoongi teases.
“Shut up. He’s just been weird,” you pout.
“That’s new. How so?”
“He hasn’t been an asshole for a few days.”
“Well, that’s quite the standard but I get you, I guess,” Yoongi hums. “In what way has he been out of character?”
“He just
 hasn’t been pointing things out and correcting my submissions or asking a lot of questions about the reports I review,” you say. “Or just
 you know, he hasn’t been him. He makes Mr. Ri pick me up every morning, he doesn’t email on the weekend, I get to leave on time, I get to eat properly
”
“In short, he’s been a decent boss recently?”
“I guess
 I mean, it’s been two weeks since my mishap. He’s been quite tolerable these past few days. Maybe he hit his head and some loose screws tightened. Maybe he had a bad dream and the ghost of the future me visited him. Maybe he had a change of heart
 though that’s highly unlikely. Maybe he–”
“Realized he hasn’t been good to you and doesn’t want you to go through the horror of another Mrs. Byun,” Yoongi interjects. 
Your curious eyes prompt him to continue. “We had a meeting the other day and I saw a folder on his desk with her name on it. Formal complaints are only available in physical copies; other personnel files are stored in the server, so the only documents he’d have of her are the ones of her investigation. And he’d only be interested in that because of you. Those include your written statements.”
“As do you yours,” you point out.
“Yes, he’d totally be interested in how his design lead witnessed a manager’s abuse of power three years ago,” Yoongi sarcastically says.
You sigh to yourself. You’ve never told Jungkook about your experience with Mrs. Byun, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok or even Yoongi has mentioned it to him. It’s an experience you don’t like to think about; you were a young woman who had everything to prove, who had a lot to lose, and conceding to someone taking advantage of you seemed like the only way to survive. Not once did you put your foot down, and not once did you stand up for yourself. You experienced all those then went home to an empty house and found comfort in your own warmth and your own breathing. 
You don’t want that experience to determine how others would treat you after. Hoseok was all things gentle and warm and you know that whatever you went through wouldn’t have determined how he treated you. 
But Jungkook
 Jungkook is different. This isn’t his default state. This isn’t how he normally is. This isn’t how you started. The last thing you want is for him to feel pity for all that you went through - in the past and recently - and then treat you differently because of it. He’s been less critical, less judgmental, and less doubtful of your capabilities. You only wish it isn’t for anything that he’d read or seen you experience. 
“I doubt it,” you shake your head. “A man that perpetually displeased doesn’t just decide one day that he’d give the bare minimum of decency to his assistant.”
“Look, ___. Jungkook is a lot of things. He has a lot of feelings that he doesn’t want to deal with, and a lot of emotions he doesn’t know how to express,” Yoongi tries to explain. “I wouldn’t be friends with him if I didn’t believe there’s an ounce of goodness in him. And there is. Maybe him showing it just isn't good timing. He’s terrible at that, too. In fact, he’s terrible at a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t try. It doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of kindness.”
“Kindness,” you huff. That’s quite a reach, but Yoongi’s always been a good judge of character. You do want to believe what he says about Jungkook; it’s just not an easy switch to flip. “I’m just trying not to care much at this point,” you sigh. “I come to work, focus on my tasks, do whatever I’m asked, go back home, rinse and repeat.”
“Is it satisfying, though?” 
“When was work ever satisfying, Yoongi?” You laugh bitterly. 
“Well, I could at least recall seeing you enjoy organizing those events for Hoseok and even joining him in some,” Yoongi points out. “I
 I saw you smile a lot. There was a bit of satisfaction there, yeah?”
“Somehow, I guess. But I just had to make do. Hoseok was great, but this is also my job, really the only thing going for me.”
“What are you working towards, then?”
“I don’t really know. Maybe at 30 I should know but I really don’t.”
“Then why are you still here?” He asks, softly, desperately. “Why do you stay?”
“And find out who I am outside of all this?” You wonder out loud. “What if I don’t like her? What if she isn’t good?”
“Then this place hasn’t been good for you if you doubt who you are outside of what you’ve done here,” Yoongi says. “You’re just 30; there’s a whole world out there where you can learn who you are and be someone you actually like. I don’t know what’s stopping you.”
A lot of things, you think to yourself. But when you find comfort in discomfort, when you find security in chaos, and when you find companionship in loneliness, it’s not that easy to leave all this behind, even if deep down, you know it’s what you have to do.
“I don’t know, too,” you lie. “Maybe I’ll find a good enough reason one day and that would be it; I’ll be out of here and then I can find out if I like myself outside of everything I know.”
“I think you would.”
I did, Yoongi thinks to himself. He knows you’d laugh and agree; he’s moved on from you and things can’t be any better than how your friendship is right now, but he also knows you’re not the best at feelings, a similarity he realizes you have with the person you supposedly dislike. 
“I won’t know until then, I guess. So I just gotta bear with who I am now,” you say.
There’s so much of you that Yoongi doesn’t know. It’s why he wanted to, why he asked you out for coffee and why he felt a bit of a heartbreak when you turned him down. But there are parts of you that he does know, that you let him see, and sometimes he finds himself wishing you’d find someone you’d feel safe enough with to share everything else you keep to yourself. 
He keeps these things to himself, too. He’s learned that the only way to keep you close is to keep his distance; you’ll reach out if you need to, even if it’s something you rarely do. But what’s important is that he’ll be there just in case; what matters is you know that there’s a hand available when you need it. 
So he just nods and takes your word for it. You’ll find yourself somehow, in whatever way you will. And you’ll find a reason to leave, whenever that is. He could only hope it’s a decision you’d make on your own, one that you won’t regret, and one that’ll lead you to find whatever it is that you’re looking for.
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“So what, they want to put a stop to the Arts Center? They’re not the ones working hard for it. And quite frankly, I don’t need their help in any way to make it happen.”
Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, anger manifesting in the way he clenches his jaw and groans repeatedly. It’s a sight you’re familiar with by now, and for the first time, you feel for him. It feels as if with this project, he doesn’t seem to have anyone on his side, aside from Hoseok, who’s been encouraging and helpful in many ways. 
“They don’t want to stop it, son,” CEO Jeon says. “They’re merely questioning some of your decisions about the prices you’ve set out.”
“In short, they’re undermining me,” Jungkook groans. “This is my project. We’ve done the necessary research. If they read the report, they’d know. But clearly, they just want reasons to doubt all this, to doubt me.”
“It’s just the first project of its kind,” his father reasons. “The arts institution from 2017 was a collaboration and it wasn’t this big. The Arts Center just isn’t the usual commercial establishment that the VP office undertakes. The Board just wants to be clear about the profits because it’s not as straightforward as the others. They want to know how the property will earn.”
“Exhibition entrance tickets, bookings, rent,” Jungkook replies. “What’s not straightforward about that? Might as well say they don’t understand or even value arts and culture because that makes money, and if done right and respectfully, it can make a lot of money. I know what I’m doing.”
“It’s not like I didn’t make those points, son. It’s your first big project. I think they just—”
“Don’t believe I can manage it on my own.”
“They don’t think you can make the necessary connections on your own,” CEO Jeon finally says. “We all know how important that is. They doubt you’d be able to forge good relationships with professionals in an industry we don’t really have strong connections to. And with a project this big, it’s the company’s resources and reputation on the line.”
There’s silence in the room, as Jungkook seems to process the core issue that the Board has with him. You can tell it’s affecting him so much, as the anger in his eyes slowly turns into resignation. 
It’s no secret that Jungkook’s way of engaging with others leaves a lot to be desired. From what you can see, he’s used to thinking more, envisioning, planning - the concepts and designs are amazing in his head and there are others tasked to sell that idea, to make it connect with people, to express why it matters, and to make sure it earns. That’s what Hoseok is good at; Jungkook never seemed like the type who enjoys that aspect of the work. 
“You should’ve thought about my outstanding interpersonal skills before appointing me as Vice President, then,” he says bitterly. “Clearly that’s what the Board and everyone else value more than anything.”
“Hey, Kook. We know you’re good for this role,” Hoseok comforts. “And we believe in your project, we really do. Just focus on that. Make sure you’re constantly adjusting and refining the plans, and remind the Board that your ideas are even better when they’ve come to life. You’ve done it with your other projects before. Eventually you’ll be able to show them that you’re more than capable of forging relationships, too. That’ll come naturally. But in the meantime, you just have to give them something to make them believe it’ll be good for the company and our image in the long-run. Make them envision it.”
“I have,” Jungkook argues. “And I’ll keep doing that. I just need father to be on my side. I just need him to back me up, to trust me and every single one of my decisions.”
You’ve never heard desperation in Jungkook’s voice until today and you’re surprised with how much it’s affecting you, not just because you know how much effort he’s put into conceptualizing the place but because you’ve come to believe in it, too.
“Ms. Cho.”
CEO Jeon’s voice pulls you away from Jungkook, and you turn to the older man and ask if there’s anything he needs.
“Your thoughts,” he responds. “What would the Arts Center mean for the company? Do you think it will yield profits?”
They’re not questions that are new to you. Hoseok would often ask you these things about the smaller projects that go through him. CEO Jeon has asked you the same things in informal situations before, not so much to gain new insight - although he claims that your thoughts are interesting to him - but to gauge your belief in the project. He has a good read on people; you’ve observed him ask questions and pick apart not what they said but how they said it. You suppose that’s what he’s doing now, too.
“You’ve mentioned a few times that you want to expand the company’s market, Mr. Jeon,” you start. “And if I remember correctly, the Board agreed. Efforts to cater to expats and the middle class have been successful, but perhaps another type of expansion is in engaging the field of the arts and culture and its creators and consumers. More people from all walks of life and all over the world are gaining interest in Korean art and culture in all forms and the company has the resources to create a space for it. Like what the Vice President said, there’s an opportunity to earn from it while, of course, respecting it.”
You see CEO Jeon and Hoseok nod, a sight you’ve seen before as well. But Jungkook looks at you with curiosity, with a look of anticipation, as if he’s hanging onto every word you’re saying. 
“The Arts Center was conceptualized and designed to be a hub for all things creative,” you continue. “Making general admission free makes the arts accessible to people, and once that appreciation grows, they’ll pay to see it, to experience it. Just go to any online forum and you’ll see that the public wants to experience art, not just observe it. They’d travel for it. The Center has spaces for that. I think that’s the ultimate goal - for anyone to be immersed in it. And that can happen through art pieces in a gallery or in a garden, through books, music, or spoken poetry, or even a photoshoot. Patrons can book rooms for private events, they can buy from the gift shop, they can do art themselves. It’s like a canvas and they can take part in creating meaning for the space. That’s what we’re selling. And that’s something people are willing to buy.”
“I see your point, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says, nodding satisfyingly at you. “And it’s a good one.”
“It’s what Mr. Jeon has been saying all this time,” you counter. “It’s easy to understand and to buy into the idea
 if only the Board would listen to him. If only they’d open their mind to what he envisions.”
“Well, that’s one way to get through to them, then,” Hoseok voices out. “Invite them to the arts event, treat them like creators and consumers, not as Board members.”
“That’s a good idea,” CEO Jeon says. “Maybe then they can see how you engage with the guests, which I hope you’re working on. And while you’re at it, work on your relationship with them, too. That means initiating conversations, seeking them out
 It's part of the job, son. The Board are our stakeholders, too, you know this.”
“Aren’t some of them based in Japan and Singapore?” You wonder aloud, hinting at another suggestion that you want would come from Jungkook himself, given his scheduled plans to fly there.  
“Yeah. Maybe I can meet them the next time I go,” he says, picking up on your thoughts.
Jungkook isn’t really fond of engaging with them. He always just left the socializing part to his uncle who used to head the Southeast Asian office. When Jungkook would be in Seoul, he let his father, Hoseok, and Ji-woo deal with them, with nothing but an acknowledgment on his end. He tends to stay at the bar on his own just to drown out the sounds. Yoongi sometimes joins him but most times, Jungkook finds himself alone even during such events; being with a lot of people is tiring, lonesome, isolating. With this new role, he’s started to accept that he has to do more. It doesn’t mean he’ll enjoy it though. 
“I’ll have that arranged for you,” you tell him. 
“Well then, that’s one way to revamp your image,” the older man smiles. “You just have to keep that up moving forward. That’s why Ms. Cho is there. She’s used to these events and these engagements with them. You’ll be fine.” 
You give a reassuring smile to Jungkook - a genuine one, as you see it’s what he needs, given all that you learned from today’s meeting. He merely nods, and you think that should be enough of an acknowledgment from his end.
Hoseok wraps it up, going through a few policy-related items and then reminding the other men about upcoming social gatherings that they all need to attend. He asks to briefly speak with Jungkook, whom he pulls aside, while the elder Mr. Jeon approaches you.
“Thank you for standing by Jungkook, Ms. Cho, especially since I haven’t been able to show my support the way I want to,” he says. “I know it hasn’t been easy.”
“It hasn’t, but he made me believe in his vision for the Center,” you respond. “I’m starting to see what he sees. And it’s quite beautiful.”
Jungkook overhears the exchange, as he zoned out on Hoseok once he heard his father address you. 
It’s something that his cousin picks up, as he repeats what he just said, totally unbothered by it. 
Hoseok, of all people, knows how important it is that you have Jungkook’s back. He also knows how difficult that must be for you, given how the man has been towards you all these weeks. 
But you’re unwavering. You’re able to withstand the challenges, and while Hoseok knows that you do have a tendency to also allow yourself to suffer through it, he also knows you’ve learned, and you’ll stand your ground if you need to; he’ll back you up, and he can only hope you know that.
You all exit the private room of the restaurant and head back to the office across the street. It’s 4PM by the time you return to your desk, given that Jungkook called for a meeting with the management support team after what transpired during lunch. 
You immediately work on the minutes and action points, finishing two hours later and then deciding that you’ll work on your next deliverable tomorrow. 
Jungkook exits his room, informing you that he’ll be leaving for an early dinner with Hoseok at a nearby restaurant, and that Mr. Ri can drop you off at your place. You’ve contested the service that was offered to you, and you and Jungkook settled on a compromise that you can go home on your own except for late nights.
“Mr. Ri will just be waiting for me anyway. No harm in driving you home tonight,” Jungkook says, knowing you were about to turn down the offer.
“Okay, sir,” you reply.
You do last minute things and pack up immediately to go home, taking this chance to get proper rest because you know the last two days of the week are going to be tiring. 
The next day, Jungkook does conference calls and closed-door meetings, leaving you to do summary reports and other administrative backlogs that have your eyebrows scrunched the entire day. If it wasn’t for Do-hyun reminding you about lunch that you promised to have with her, you would’ve totally forgotten. 
You’re in the zone as you go through the afternoon - two meetings straight that have Jungkook rubbing his temples constantly and you doing the same. But you pop in some aspirin and ginseng jelly next to his cup of tea, feeling satisfied when he takes them.
You go home on time, not wanting to be offered a ride for a consecutive night, and you get proper rest to face the final day of the week. 
It’s all going well, as you find a rhythm early on as you work on your deliverables while Jungkook remains focused on his own tasks. You’re the one who reminds him now to eat his lunch, and seeing the blueprints sprawled on his desk, you offer to buy him one yourself. 
He nods in appreciation as you state his usual order for confirmation, and you eat your sandwich while waiting for his curry rice bowl in the food hall. You get back to your tasks, thankful for the unusually quiet and uneventful Friday. 
You see now how hyper focused Jungkook could get. He’s got his blinds closed but you can tell that he’s immersed in his designs and proposals and plans. He’s not allowing calls or visitors, and he only rings you to ask for coffee, which you’ve given him four times so far. Towards the end of the day, you’re the one who asks to go in, informing him that the Board meeting has been moved to a week earlier than scheduled; it’s two Fridays from now, which means his team has to finalize everything soon.
It’s his first one since becoming Vice President, and given how he used to question you, you’re surprised when he asks your proposed timeline to prepare for the meeting. 
“Manager Lee is already consolidating all the departmental reports,” you respond. “You can instruct him to finalize the VP report with all those by Wednesday; the presentation can be due on Friday so you can go through all of them. We can submit the report for CEO review the Monday after that and then you can prepare for your run through until the meeting.”
“Sounds good,” he replies. “I’ll send them an email with the instructions shortly.”
“Noted, sir,” you say. “I’ve also submitted the minutes of the past two days’ meetings as well as the policy guidelines you asked for.”
“Oh, right,” he says, taking his iPad. “I’ve looked through them. The minutes are good; you can disseminate them accordingly. I’ve highlighted the parts for the condensed version you’ll send to the CEO and the President. I also have minimal corrections and remarks on the policy guidelines and I’ve edited them directly on the file. Just proofread again and then affix my signature once you’ve finished.”
“Y—you’re done?” You ask. You hope he doesn’t pick up the shock in your voice.
“Yes, and I’ve read them. Thoroughly,” he answers.
You smile in embarrassment after the other day. 
“Does that bother you?” He follows up. 
“N-no, sir,” you say, knowing he’s waiting for an answer. “I guess I was expecting you to take longer because, you know, more comments. And you’ve been busy all day, too.”
“More comments
 Is that what you’re expecting?”
“Sort of,” you admit. “I mean
 you made a lot of them before.”
You pout in reflex as you realize how you sound. You’re basically pointing out how critical he used to be, and if you’re being honest, you do wish he still was. At least that tells you that he’s still the same, that no knowledge of your past experience with your former boss has made him change his disposition towards you. 
Jungkook sees your pout, and he crosses his arms and legs to keep himself from doing something as stupid as wiping it off you. It’s a little disarming for him, if he’s being honest. 
“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” you clarify.
Liar, you think to yourself.
“Well, if I used to do it a lot and I still do that after a month in, wouldn’t it reflect poorly on you and me if you still haven’t learned from all that?” He asks.
You think about it and eventually nod. He does have a point.
“You’ve adapted. I’d be worried if you continued to do things the way you used to,” he adds. 
You nod again, taking in all his words. Much as you appreciate them, there’s another thought still bugging you. 
“May I be honest, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, your heart beating fast now as he looks at you curiously. 
He nods anyway and asks you to continue. 
“I don’t think you’d lower your standards or anything when it comes to my work,” you start. “So I don’t want to believe that you pity me just because you know what I experienced in the past.”
He looks at you questioningly, as if to ask what you’re talking about.
“I spotted Mrs. Byun’s files on your table,” you lie. “I assume you’ve read about how she treated me. And I
 I don’t want to be pitied, Mr. Jeon. If it’s that, please don’t. Please don’t let it affect how you’d treat me. It wasn’t even that bad—”
“It was,” he interjects. “This company doesn’t tolerate people who abuse their power. I only knew about your case because I’m thorough with my work. And that includes looking into my staff and their past. I did it for everyone,” he lies as well. 
Hoseok and Yoongi had mentioned something about a past experience and Jungkook did dig deep. It was so he could help you professionally, he convinced himself.
“You should also know that I don’t make compromises when it comes to the quality of work of my staff and that means I don’t pity people if they fail to meet my standards. But I suppose you think that I do because of how I was in the beginning,” he continues, surprising you. “I admit I was being too critical. And I don’t have an excuse, just that I absolutely hate change. I’m not good at managing it and I reacted in a way that I’m used to, which is not a good way at all. I know now that I was not fair to you.”
The apology doesn’t come, but you know that the admission means enough already. It’s definitely taken a huge burden off of you. You didn’t dream up all those incidents and it wasn’t entirely on you. That itself gives you relief. 
“My father and cousin were right. You’re a fast learner. You pick up on the comments, work on them immediately, and adjust accordingly. It’s a good trait to have, Ms. Cho.”
“I appreciate that, Mr. Jeon.”
“May I be honest, too?” He asks, surprising you again.
You nod, anticipating what he’d say, knowing he’s never been this quiet nor looked this nervous in all these weeks you’ve known him.
“What you said to my father about the Arts Center the other day, I appreciate that, too,” he says. “I guess you could’ve said something general or basic but you didn’t.”
“Your father wouldn’t have minded what I said,” you reply. “What mattered was how I said it. I guess as the person who’s privy to a lot of things about the project, he sincerely wanted to know what I thought about it, if I genuinely believed in it.”
“Well, it was a good way to convince him. And it seemed like he believed you.”
“I’m not a good actor, Mr. Jeon,” you chuckle. “He believed it because I meant it. And he saw that I was on your side. As I should. I still meant it, though.”
“That’s
 encouraging,” he huffs. “At least one person is.”
“I’m sure he does, too.”
“It’s ironic that people like Mr. Ri think that my father and I are so alike, yet we don’t see eye to eye most of the time.”
“It’s because you are alike. You both think you’re right all the time,” you joke, teetering on the edge and sighing in relief when he laughs, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard. 
“You make a good point,” he smiles a tiny bit, something you also don’t think you’ve ever seen him do. “But I’m still adjusting to working directly with him, and in a bigger role, too. We'll probably butt heads a lot.”
“You will. I already know it. In fact, I can already see it,” you laugh again. 
It’s a moment you share with him that you didn’t imagine you ever would. He’s being honest about his concerns and you’re giving comfort in the way you know how and neither of you seems to mind. 
“I’m
 I’m gonna need your help, Ms. Cho,” he says so softly, his eyes turning away from you. “I’m gonna need your assistance. Not just in seeing the Arts Center through but in everything - navigating this role, dealing with my father, dealing with people. I
 I know what I’m good at. So I don’t really focus on the things I don’t do well in but this position forces me to confront those and I
 I’ll need help.” 
For someone who doesn’t seem to like being vulnerable in front of others, seeing this side of Jungkook makes you sympathetic. The soft tone of his voice, the lack of eye contact, the crossed arms
 they’re familiar because it’s how you are, and you know it’s difficult to be this honest with another person, especially when it’s about what you need. 
More than wanting to help him because it’s your job, you find yourself wanting to see him succeed, too, to see him manage it all. That way, when you do eventually leave the company and search whatever it is you’re looking for, you can rest easy knowing that he’ll be okay, that the team will be okay, that the Arts Center will be all that he imagined it to be. 
“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I’ll do my best to provide you with the assistance you need.”
“Thank you,” he mutters, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say those words with such sincerity to you, too.
You bow in acknowledgement and head out, leaving Jungkook in a haze, as he realizes that in your presence, he’d done what he's been trying to avoid ever since you walked in his life - be honest. He’d told you his concerns, his needs, and it seems that his honesty is something you appreciated as well. There was that acceptance that he wouldn’t have expected from you, not because you aren’t the type to give it but because he hasn’t given you a reason to. But you gave it regardless; you let him feel that it was okay. 
It’s another half hour before he’s packing up to head home. It’s been a tiring week and he just wants to have a long bath, watch sports, and drink a cold beer over grilled meat. He’ll probably get some work done but maybe he’ll drive to some resort out of town, have a good workout, get in a sauna, and have a massage. He’ll have a nice meal with his friends and then go to a club. Or maybe he’ll just stay in. There’s something about being honest that makes him want to keep to himself for a while. He’ll start with that tonight, as he turns down Taehyung’s invite to another one of his client’s party.
Jungkook walks out and sees your desk empty, but he does hear your voice coming from the management support team’s room, telling them about your weekend plans as well.
“I’m going to the film festival in Incheon,” you say. “And probably just stay at a hostel.”
“Are you going by yourself?” Do-hyun asks.
“Uh, yeah,” you reply. 
Hajoon was supposed to go with you. He invited himself, actually, and you should’ve read into the fact that he’d wanted to experience your interests with you. You hadn’t minded, and that’s clearly out of the picture now. 
“I usually go to them by myself,” you add.
“Well, if you decide you want to invite one of us or hang out, you can always let us know,” Chin-sun teases, knowing you probably won’t. 
“Let’s wait until we’re not too tired and busy, okay?” You chuckle. “That way, we can afford to do whatever we want on the weekends.”
“Yup, that’ll probably never happen,” Do-hyun pouts. “When are we not tired and busy? It’s probably worse this time because we don’t get to laugh and joke around like we used to. Are we even getting a holiday? Will we have an out-of-town team building? Or dinners and karaoke like how Mr. Jung used to treat us to?”
“The team-building is budgeted so yes, we’ll have it,” you tell them. “And dinners? I can maybe suggest that to Mr. Jeon. And come on, no one’s stopping you from laughing or joking around. You can still do all that.”
“Yeah, but sometimes I feel like I’m not allowed to because it might seem like I’m not serious about my job because our boss is too serious and it doesn’t seem right,” Do-hyun whines. 
And for the first time, you feel genuinely bad for how they think about Jungkook. You don’t blame them though, but the man you saw earlier who broke into a small smile is definitely capable of laughter; you just don’t know how to elicit it from him again. 
“He’s just been under a lot of pressure, but he doesn’t prohibit you from finding joy in anything,” you say. “Just
 give him some time, okay? He’ll come around. Let’s just focus on our work and then focus on ourselves when the weekend comes. So all of you, pack up now and go home to your families and your pets. We’ve got a long few weeks ahead.”
Jungkook hears a collective okay then heads out right away, the initial thought of saying goodbye to the team having dissipated. He can’t blame them for voicing out their frustrations over the change in how they’re being managed. Hoseok was loved. He built a competent team whose spirit Jungkook is afraid he’s now breaking. But he’s not like his cousin, and he doesn’t know how to reach out to them in a way that’s genuine. He let the pressure get to him too much early on and while he’s not the type to forge connections with his staff, he’s seeing now how important it is for him as Vice President to do that. 
But it’s too much to think about for today. He’ll let this affect him a little bit and then figure things out. Based on what he heard though, he’s not on his own. You were on his side again, even when you thought he wasn’t around. There’s something about the way you stand up to him and stand by him that’s refreshing. There’s honesty there, too, and he’s learning that it’s what he needs. 
He makes it to the elevator but then holds the door once he hears rapid footsteps. You mutter your thanks as you enter, and he feels the tension build as you’re together after the exchange earlier. He hasn’t gotten over that yet, so he’s unsure how to talk with you. 
It seems like so are you, as you drum your fingers on the strap of your bag and focus on the door while you both wait to make it to the ground floor. Jungkook is tempted to offer you a ride with him but he decides against it. Even then, he slows his steps so he could walk alongside you, as you both head out the main doors.
“Get some rest, Mr. Jeon,” you finally say. “And have a good weekend.”
You look at him with sincerity in your eyes, your smile soft and assuring, something he’s never seen you direct at him before. It’s even different from earlier. There’s more understanding, he thinks. Perhaps there’s care.
“You, too, Ms. Cho,” he replies before entering the car. “Get home safely.”
You bow to him and wave at Mr. Ri before walking down the pathway to the street that leads towards the bus stop. 
Jungkook lets himself be comfortable in the seat while he forces the image of your smile out of his head. The sun has set and it’s Seoul at its busiest on another hot Friday evening. There are more cars than usual and so movement is slow, but that’s how he sees you - walking down the sidewalk in the midst of all these people. And there you are, somehow looking at peace. There’s an air of isolation that surrounds you, but you don’t look lonely. Just
 alone. There’s still that warmth in your eyes and your smile that he finds himself wanting to see more of.
This is when he realizes he might be in trouble. There’s a line he shouldn’t cross, but there’s this desire to get to know you, to know your thoughts and your feelings and your words. He reminds himself that he needs you, in a way that an authority figure needs support and assistance. He needs you to be focused and capable, and he needs to be the same. 
With his attraction that he can’t get over, he knows that the only way to make sure that he keeps things professional is to keep his distance - not just physically, but more so emotionally. You’ll definitely be spending more time together and he needs to constantly remind himself of who you are and who he is. That much as he feels safe and honest with you, he can’t go any further; he can’t let you get any closer. He doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but that’s one other thing he’ll figure out.
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Series Masterlist
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thatsdemko · 1 year
Text
junipers dad- g.russell
pairings: George Russell x albon!fem!reader
fc: lyssieloooloo (from ig and TikTok)
requested: y - “What about something to do with all the pets the Albion’s have?? I think it would be super cute if George was trying to soft launch the relationship but because he’s such good friends with Alex people just assume that he’s hanging with the Albon family. And then it just culminates into either Albon!reader (or maybe Alex😂) just getting tried of George’s moping that his long planned out soft launch isn’t going to plan so they just decide to hard launch.”
a/n: a little something to lighten to mood xx— ps happy non-red bull podium!!
f1updates
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liked by albon_pets, gr63updates, lilyandalexlover, & 6,794 others.
f1updates: it seems like George is hanging out with the Albon’s this weekend after Silverstone! he posted this cute picture of an albon cat â˜ș
400 comments
f1lover22: I love that George and Alex hang out!
charleslechair: Alex and George two besties that can’t be separated
alblondo: is that y/n?! that’s so cute that George is friends with all of his sisters
princessgeorge: I’m also p sure that’s y/n’s cat juniper!
—
he sits cross legged in the chair, juniper sound asleep in his lap while he scrolls through Instagram for inspiration of his next launch. the last one was an ultimate fail considering half of formula one fans believed he was just hanging out with Alex. didn’t they know juniper was your cat?
“what’s got you so consumed online?” you peer over his shoulder, he’s searched high and low on the instagram tag ‘#softlaunch’ and it makes you giggle that he’s warped into introducing you properly to his instagram.
“why don’t you just post a picture of me and juniper? that way it looks more like you’re hanging out with me than with Alex.” you take the sleeping cat out of his lap, an alarmed grunt comes from her lips as you hold her in your arms for a picture.
“that outta do it right? Alex is nowhere to be seen.”
—
georgerussell63
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liked by alexalbon, lilymhe, y/nalbon, & 77,931 others.
georgerussell63: spent some well needed time off
509 comments
albon_pets: đŸ±â€ïž
maxverclerc: omg did George spend the weekend with the Albons?!
lewrussell: obsessed over that he and the albon siblings are friends
mercedesgeorge: everyday George proves more and more that he and Alex are still besties
—
“I don’t get it, why does everyone think we are friends?”
“well to be fair you did post a picture from junipers birthday party and everyone remembers that day.” you say it in a matter of fact tone that makes him groan as he scrolls through the comments.
albonlover: george was adopted by the albon family and I think that’s so cute
britcedes63: does he regularly hang out with them? I wouldn’t be surprised! he and Alex are really close
he shuts off his phone and watches you play with juniper. the fish on the stick being her worst enemy as she attempts to tackle it down in the air when a brilliant idea comes to his mind.
“why don’t you post me? that way everyone will be suspicious on who you’re dating!”
you roll your eyes playfully at his comment, but when you look over at him he’s handing you your phone to take a picture of him and juniper.
“if this will make you happy, then why not?”
—
f1gossiplover
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liked by russbuss63, checorbr, yukisuzuka, & 7,250 others.
f1gossiplover: photo submitted by anonymous! y/n albon seems to have a new man who looks awfully similar to George?? what’s everyone’s thoughts!
300 comments
hamilton44: that’s not George that’s some imposter
gaslycharles: too short to be George
gr63babes: I know George and that’s not him
—
“what do they mean that’s not me?! that’s so clearly me in the picture.” he huffs in annoyance, phone balanced against his water bottle as he eats breakfast. the recent topic of your posts for each other is all he seems to be able to talk about, and you’d had enough. you’d really thought that semi hard launch would’ve been enough to make fans suspicious, but nobody budged.
you curse Alex for being such close friends to George, that way it was ten times harder for you to actually post the relationship like normal couples.
“why does it matter so much to you again?” you sit beside him, reaching over you take his phone and toss it into the empty chair beside you. he’d spent enough time on the device than paying attention to you.
“I just want to do it right. I don’t want to hard launch you and you realize it was too soon.”
you smile at his concerns and reach to grab his hand, “you’re too cute, Georgie, but truthfully I don’t care how you post me, but it seems to be upsetting you very much, so I have an idea.”
—
y/nalbon
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liked by albon_pets, georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1, & 6,530 others.
y/nalbon: juniper enjoyed some sun with her dad @ Georgerussell63
300 comments
albon_pets: uncle George has been promoted!
georgerussell63: daddy loves you juni!
roscoelovescoco: playdate soon?
mercedesamgf1: petition for juniper to join us in the paddock?
williamsracing: not on our watch!
lewishamilton: where do I sign up to get me and Roscoe matching sweaters?
alexalbon: don’t hold your breath she’s still making George and me our matching jumpers
tags: (sorry to lazy to tag everyone just gonna tag a few) @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @oconso @motorsp0rt
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wlntrsldler · 7 months
Text
poisoned mercury | end up here
a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.
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iv. end up here by 5sos
series masterlist | previous | next
“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 
luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 
anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 
luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 
“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 
“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 
“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 
“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 
you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 
as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 
when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 
“five star, 
i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 
ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 
luke :)” 
the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 
and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 
you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.
after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 
you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 
“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 
“well, i did help organize it.” 
“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 
“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 
“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 
“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 
“are you cold?” 
your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 
luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 
“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”
always so stubborn, luke thought.  
“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 
“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 
luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 
when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 
he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 
he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 
“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 
“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 
“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 
“did you write it?” 
luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 
“you need to stop doing that.”
he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 
“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 
“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 
“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 
you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 
luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”
you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 
you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 
he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”
you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 
you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 
“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 
“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 
“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 
“18.” 
“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 
you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 
“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 
there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 
he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 
you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 
he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 
you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 
the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 
–
“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 
the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 
then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 
luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 
he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 
“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 
“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 
connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 
luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 
you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 
“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 
you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 
the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 
you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 
but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 
“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”
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wholoveseggs · 7 months
Note
Hi babygirl!! I’m back yet again đŸ€­ I’ve got a spicier one for you this time.
Okay so y/n (aka me bc why not) and Rebekah are bffs, talking like usual in her room when y/n one day asks her if she had always been with men only, maybe if she dated women she’d had found love or whatever. Bex says she’s not into women but she has experimented with them before. Elijah and Klaus are in the family room, minding their business when they hear noises. Both brothers have always have a huge ass crush on y/n, Bex knew about it, but they never told her because they didn’t know how to. Rebekah decides to take full advantage of this and fucks y/n, knowing damn well her brothers can hear how loud they are. So from the family room, they follow the noise to Bex’s room & find the two girls scissoring. They watch quietly and jack off but when Klaus moans, both girls hear and quickly turn to the door, catching both brothers redhanded. This obviously leads to a 4some. {kinks: double penetration, voyeurism, breeding, boob play (lots btwn the girls), praise, degradation, choking, and ofc scissoring for the girls}
MĂ©nage Ă  Quatre
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Just a quick little ménage à quatre with Rebekah & the boys...
♡♡ Thanks for the request sweet Aurora! This was so much fun to write & also a bit of a challenge (lots of moving parts haha) ♡♡
5.3k words - Warnings: pure smut, foursome, NO INCEST, girl on girl, fingering, handjobs, oral sex, scissoring, double penetration, voyeurism, choking, lots of praise and a sprinkling of degradation, my Elijah favoritism shining through, Klaus and Elijah being a little rough, Rebekah likes to watch...
PS: This is unofficially extra-extra-extra-extraordinary ~lol
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Rebekah's room was always your favorite place in the Mikaelson compound. It was feminine and elegant, and had beautiful pieces of furniture. Whenever you would go to your best friend's bedroom, you couldn't help but admire the view; and the woman.
She was beautiful with her long blonde hair and stunning features, not to mention that gorgeous accent of hers. You had always harbored a bit of a crush, but kept it to yourself, afraid to ruin the friendship.
As always, you were both sitting on her bed, legs crossed and telling each other the latest gossip. And today, you found yourself telling Rebekah about a recent fling and hook-up.
Rebekah was listening intently as she rummaged through her closet, tossing you some clothes she wanted you to try. You always felt a little shy getting undressed in front of her but you got more comfortable over time.
You pulled on a vintage pleated mini skirt from the early 2000s, it didn't even cover your buttcheeks. 
You gave Rebekah a spin while giggling, "How do I look?"
She laughs, her eyes gazing over your body appreciatively. "Sexy, as always."
You blush under her gaze and pull off your top, rummaging through the pile of clothes to find a new shirt.
"Try this on," Rebekah suggests, holding up a lacy red push up bra.
"Sure," you reply with a shrug, taking off your own plain white one and throwing it across the room.
As you put on the new bra, Rebekah took the opportunity to admire your half naked figure. You bite your lip, feeling the tension building in the room.
You sat down on the bed, leaning against the headboard, her eyes followed you closely. Your skin felt hot under her gaze and your heart beat faster in your chest.
"I have a question for you, love," she says softly, looking down at her fingernails casually, acting as if nothing happened.
"What is it?"
"Elijah and Klaus are both quite taken with you. I've heard them talk about you before," Rebekah replies. Her voice is low and her eyes dark, she looks up at you from beneath her eyelashes. "Did you know that?"
"Really? I don't know
" You can't stop your eyes from widening in surprise. "But they've never said anything to me
”
"Is it so hard to believe they are attracted to you? You're beautiful. Sexy. Any man would be lucky to have you."
Your entire body feels hot under her gaze and you're unable to form a sentence. But to your luck, you don't have to answer her as she speaks again.
"Or maybe," she drawls, slowly starting to crawl towards you on the bed. "You're into women."
You gulp, paralyzed by her hypnotizing gaze. Before you can think of anything witty to say, you're pinned against her pillows, soft fabric squished under your back.
She pushes her knee between your legs, straddling you in the process. You gasp at her boldness, lust taking over your mind. She leans closer, so close that her lips are almost brushing against yours.
"So which one would you choose?" she asks softly, her breath ghosting over your face.
"Choose?" You repeat breathily.
"My brothers. Which one?" she clarifies, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
"I-I" You stop to clear your throat, trying to swallow down the sudden nerves. "Probably Elijah, he seems more gentle than Klaus," you mumble.
Rebekah chuckles, enjoying the effect she is having on you. "He would be thrilled to hear you say that. But," she stops, bringing her lips next to your ear. "I was hoping you'd choose me," she whispers.
It takes everything in your body not to moan when her soft lips move over the sensitive skin on your neck.
Her hands slide up your body before cupping your breasts through the lacy bra. She kneads your flesh firmly before pulling the cups down. Your breasts spill out, nipples pebbling under her ravenous stare.
"I didn't realize it was an option," you breathe.
Rebekah grins at you, eyes flashing dangerously before dipping her head.
"It's always been an option," she husks.
Her attention shifts to your exposed tits, nipples pink and puffy from her touch. She gives them a little smack, knocking the breath out of you.
Her actions instantly cause a throbbing between your thighs as you subconsciously try to close them.
Without warning, she leans down and swipes her tongue along one nipple. Her saliva leaves a cool coating over your skin as she works her way across your chest to give the same treatment to your other tit.
She hums softly against your skin before she bites down lightly, causing your body to arch up towards her, a breathy sigh leaving your lips.
You close your eyes, savoring the sensation of her touch. You want to touch her too, feel her soft skin beneath your fingertips, hear her delicate moans in your ear.
Your hands slowly slide up her thighs, teasing the exposed skin. She doesn't stop you as your hands travel higher and higher, crawling up the slope of her stomach.
She takes your wrists and guides your arms over your head, pinning them against the headboard with one hand, biting her lip in concentration. Her stare is intense, dark and arousing, lust and hunger burning brightly in her eyes.
"Not so fast," she murmurs, kissing the side of your mouth, then quickly withdrawing. "This is all about you,”
Her free hand dips underneath your skirt, reaching the damp fabric of your panties, and pushes it aside. She grins as her finger runs up and down your slit, teasing and prodding your entrance, you let out a soft moan, arching into her touch.
Her lips attach to the skin on your neck, suckling at the tender flesh. She grazes her teeth across the fluttering pulse point, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body.
You tried to stifle your moans, suddenly becoming aware of your surroundings. There was a possibility others in the house could also hear you. Klaus and Elijah were only just downstairs, and with their vampire hearing they could definitely pick up on your moans, even through the closed door. And that thought, of them listening in on you and Rebekah having sex, turned you on even more.
Rebekah grinned, as if she was reading your mind. She removed her hand from between your legs and moved back a little on the bed, grabbing your skirt and pulling it off before pulling off her down clothes. You feel the cold air hit your now bare pussy as she tosses her garments onto the floor.
"Come here," she said softly, grabbing your hips and pulling you under her.
She pressed her chest to yours, the soft skin of her breasts brushing against your own. Your nipples brushed against hers and you both moaned softly. The two of you gazed into each other's eyes for a moment before capturing her lips.
Her tongue pushed in roughly, exploring every inch of your mouth. You reciprocated eagerly, humming against her lips and gripping her waist to pull her closer.
Rebekah slides her hand down your body and between your legs, and begins to slowly stroke your clit. You arch your back, moaning loudly. She chuckles and slowly pushes a finger inside of you, then another.
She thrusts her fingers in and out of your dripping cunt, curling them in just the right way to make you squirm.
"You're so wet, darling," she coos, licking her lips. "Tell me what you want."
"More
"
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Elijah was sitting in the courtyard, book in his lap, enjoying one of the rare moments he had to himself. Klaus was sketching something, and the silence was comfortable.
But their moment of peace was interrupted by the sounds of giggling coming from upstairs.
"Sounds like someone is having a good time," the hybrid muttered.
"Yes, I suppose so," Elijah agreed, trying not to listen to the noises.
They are both a little jealous of Rebekah's bond with you, she seemed to have a connection with you that they couldn't achieve. And while they were both aware that the two of you were just friends, sometimes it was hard not to feel left out.
"Maybe we should go see what's going on," Klaus suggested, glancing at his brother.
"No, leave them be, they are probably just trying on clothes again," Elijah replied, trying to focus on his book. He wasn't actually sure what the girls were up to, but he didn't want to disturb them.
Suddenly there's a loud moan, followed by a giggle, and the brothers are unable to ignore it anymore.
They both looked at eachother then got up, heading for the stairs. They could hear the girls whispering and laughing, the sounds getting louder as they reached the door.
Klaus stopped Elijah before he walked in, pressing his index finger to his lips and listening.
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You were flushed and trembling, Rebekah between your legs, teasing your pussy with her tongue.
"Fuck," you gasp, grabbing her hair and pulling her closer.
Rebekah loved this, having you at her mercy. You were so hot and responsive, and she couldn't get enough. She could hear her brothers downstairs, questioning what the two of you were doing and she decided to put on a show. 
Torture them a little.
Your breathing grew faster as you bucked your hips, riding her face as she kept sucking your clit, your pleasure climbing higher and higher, the tension building in your core.
"Bekah, I'm gonna-"
She pulled back and looked up at you, her smirk the most mischievous you've ever seen.
"Don't come yet, beautiful," she coaxed you, grinning wickedly. "I have one more thing to show you,"
She grins and leans forward, her breasts pressed against yours, she gently positions one of your legs over hers, pulling your bodies flush against each other. She kisses you softly, her hands tangling in your hair, pulling a little before breaking the kiss.
She takes her hands and intertwines them with yours as she starts moving her hips slowly, gently sliding her wet pussy against yours. You gasp at the feeling and move your hips, trying to match her rhythm.
Your eyes close and your head falls back. Rebekah looks down at you, smiling proudly at the effect she has on you.
"Just like that," she whispers. "Feel me move against you..."
You looked down at the sight of your pussies grinding together, and groaned, biting your lip. It was so erotic, and you can't get enough. The way her clit brushes against yours, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.
The bed creaked beneath you as you moved faster, trying to chase the high that's just out of reach. It was too much, the pleasure building deep within your belly, your muscles clenching tight. Just when you are about to reach your peak you hear a noise coming from the hallway and you freeze.
Both of you look towards the door, waiting for it to open, and sure enough, the knob turns, revealing the intruders. Klaus and Elijah, of course.
"Looks like we have company, love," Rebekah teased, continuing to grind on you.
They both looked a little caught, as if they didn't expect the door to be unlocked. They stepped in sheepishly, the both of them looking over the two of you, their eyes darkening.
"Hello brothers, it seems we have a new toy to play with," Rebekah stated, eyeing them intensely, her smile full of mischief. "Would you like that darling? To be shared between the three of us?"
You let out a soft moan as Rebekah moves her body in a particular way that has your eyes rolling back into your head. When you speak, you almost sound like you are begging, desperate for their touch.
"Yes," you breathe.
You watched Elijah and Klaus eagerly undress, their eyes still lingering on the two of you, hunger evident in their gaze.
"Look at how you're blushing," Klaus teases, chuckling and moving closer to the bed.
"Such a pretty little thing," Elijah agreed, his lips turning up in a knowing smile.
Rebekah continued to move her hips against yours. "I know," she moaned, running a hand through your hair. "You really are beautiful."
You moan louder as Klaus begins running his hands over your exposed body. Elijah soon joins him, moving to your other side, fingers tracing the outline of your lips. He pushes the tips of his fingers into your mouth and you immediately suck them, eyes fluttering shut. You moan around his fingers, pulling them deeper inside.
Rebekah groans, watching you swirl your tongue around his skin, the wetness gathering between your thighs growing, and you whine, rutting against her to create some friction.
"How desperate," Rebekah smirked, slowing down her movements so that the friction isn't enough to satisfy you.
Elijah removes his fingers and moves to kiss you, his tongue exploring your mouth, hungrily tasting you. Klaus touches your breasts, squeezing and playing with your sensitive nipples. You moan into the kiss, arching your back to rub your skin against his calloused fingers.
You are trapped between the three of them, completely at the mercy of their hands and mouths and you’d never been more turned on.
"I want to see her cum," Klaus murmurs, nipping your earlobe, making you shudder.
Rebekah increases the pace, grinding her clit into yours over and over. You mewl in pleasure, bucking your hips, begging for more. You look up and notice that Elijah has already started stroking his cock, his eyes fixed on you.
"I bet her pussy feels incredible, don't you think?" Klaus asks Elijah huskily, pinching your nipple between two fingers and pulling on it.
You yelp from the overload of sensations, your whole body convulsing. You can't hear what Elijah says because Rebekah reaches between your legs and circles her index finger around your swollen clit, pushing you over the edge.
Your pussy contracts, clamping down around nothing, convulsing against Rebekah's thumb. She sucks in a ragged breath, her hips spasming and rocking back and forth, your hips moving together. Your clit brushes against hers and you let out an embarrassing noise of surprise, coming at the same time as her.
Rebekah collapsed, sweaty and shaking. She buried her face in your neck, mumbling your name over and over, her body still pulsating with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
She pulls back, her blonde hair cascading around her shoulders. She smiles down at you and leans in for another kiss, this time it's slow and gentle, filled with affection.
"You look so beautiful when you come," she whispers against your lips, pressing another soft peck on the side of your mouth. "I think I'll let my brothers have a turn with you now," she gently nips at your skin, tickling you, making you giggle.
Then she moves from the bed and sits on the armchair across the room, watching with dark eyes. Her legs spread as she watches the show, hand finding her clit and rubbing it slowly.
Elijah guides you to lay on your side facing him, while Klaus presses himself to your back, their strong hands gliding along your curves. Elijah wastes no time and leans down to kiss you, pulling your tongue between his lips and sucking it.
Klaus bites down on the skin of your neck, leaving hickeys along the area from your collarbone to the junction of your neck.
Their hands wander over your curves. Elijah's hand cups your breasts, toying with the hard peaks. "Such a pretty little slut." His voice is low, and he smirks at the way your body reacts to his words.
You can feel Klaus' hard member pressing against your back, along with Elijah's length pressed against your front.
You palm Elijah's cock through his boxers, stroking him in slow strokes, loving the way he feels and smells. His dark eyes watch you with adoration as he gives a gentle thrust into your hand.
"Do you like that?" You ask, your voice soft as you continue to pump him, occasionally bringing your hand higher up his shaft and teasing his sensitive head.
He nods eagerly, his fingers tangling into your hair, pressing his hips into you with more urgency. You can feel the veins on his cock pulsate under your touch as his breathing becomes erratic and shallow.
Klaus turns you so you are lying on your back between them, your free hand reaching for his cock, mimicking what you are doing to Elijah.
The feeling of having their cocks in your hands at the same time drives you crazy, you love being surrounded by them. They start kissing your neck and shoulder blades, leaving little marks of their own. You feel them getting harder and harder as they rut into your hands.
The heat between the three of you begins to rise, moans, gasps and whispered praises filling the air. They tease your breasts, letting their fingers and lips roam your body, softly caressing your nipples.
Rebekah groans at the sight and starts rubbing her clit faster, her breath catching as she watches you from across the room. You turn your head slightly, your eyes meeting hers, and you bite your lip, your hand speeding up, stroking them faster.
Elijah's hand wanders lower, touching your inner thigh and his mouth is pressing lightly on your neck and jaw.
"Fuck, just like that darling," he breathes, slowly circling your clit with the pad of his finger, pulling a small gasp from your lips, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.
"You like that?" Klaus whispers into your ear, biting on your lobe as he does.
You look towards him and lean over, capturing his lips and teasing him with your tongue, keeping up the movements of your hands on their cocks. He takes control easily, taking charge and deepening the kiss.
"Why don't you come sit on my lap," Klaus murmurs against your lips, brushing back the strands of hair away from your face, smiling down at you with affection.
You let go of them and let yourself be maneuvered so that you were straddling him, the tip of his thick shaft pressing against your entrance, teasing your soaked pussy.
Before you can slide onto his cock, his thumb brushes against your slit and gently taps your swollen clit, causing bolts of pleasure to pass through you, you suck in a gasp and start riding his finger, feeling tiny pleasure sparks shooting through your body.
Your nails dig into his shoulders, and he grabs your hips roughly pushing you down onto his cock, causing you to moan as the pleasure of being filled so deep hits you. You lift your hips and his cock slides out a little bit, before you push yourself back down on him. You move slowly, adjusting to his large size. The way your muscles tighten around him makes him groan in pleasure.
Klaus smiled wickedly, his hand coming down to smack your ass, making you yelp and fall forward, burying your head into the crook of his neck.
Rebekah rubbed her clit as she watched you bounce on Klaus' cock, her chest heaving and a desperate expression on her beautiful features.
"Ride him properly now, he's not a particularly patient man," she teased.
Klaus chuckled and smacked you again, harder this time, his other hand wrapping around your throat. You positioned your legs on either side of his and started really moving. Rolling your hips, clenching, using his thighs to your advantage. Each time you pushed yourself down you clenched hard, dragging a long low groan from his parted lips.
"Such a perfect little whore," Klaus grunted as you picked up your pace. His grip tightened around your neck and his other hand squeezed your breasts, twisting your nipples roughly. Your rhythm grew messy, your hips moving in earnest, searching for friction.
Rebekah couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene, watching you fall apart in Klaus' lap had her chasing her high too.
Elijah gazed fondly at the two of you, moving behind you and licking along your back, grabbing your cheeks in his large hands and massaging them before smacking them harshly. You whined loudly, gripping Klaus' forearms tightly, both men chuckled at your responses.
Klaus slowed your movements as Elijah pressed his chest against your back, you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his muscular arms wrapping around you. He wrapped one hand around your body and traced small circles across your clit. You gasped and ground against him, desperate for more friction, he ignored your frantic pleading, holding your trembling thighs steady, growling commands in your ear telling you to settle down.
Elijah's hands moved over your hips then between your ass cheeks and slowly circled the edges of your tight hole.
"Have you ever had two men take you at once?" he purred, your blush deepened, and you shook your head.
"Well then we have so much to teach you," Rebekah cheered, spreading her legs further apart.
Elijah leaned back and spread your cheeks further, teasing the hole and coaxing a litany of pleads from your pretty mouth. Your hole was tight and sensitive, only the tip of Elijah's middle finger slowly inserted inside, pushing against your walls to the first knuckle. Klaus's hand tightened around your throat, his eyes glued to your face. Elijah applied more pressure, before he began to move his finger slowly in and out of your ass.
"Shit, Elijah," you groaned, the sensation making you squeeze around Klaus' cock.
With Klaus's grip on you, there was very little range of movement and Elijah smirked at your efforts, removing his finger altogether for a moment.
You weren't sure if you were relieved or frustrated by this.
You let out a shaky gasp as his fingers circled the tense ring of muscle once again, your nails digging into Klaus's shoulders harder when you felt a second finger at your entrance, the slight burn adding to the never-ending list of sensations flooding your mind.
"Relax, sweetheart, take a deep breath." Elijah said softly, kissing the side of your neck and letting his breath fan over the sensitive skin.
You couldn't stop yourself from trembling as Klaus and Elijah shared a chuckle at your eagerness.
"Do you like the thought of having two cocks inside you?" Klaus said, letting go of your throat and twining his fingers into your hair instead. "Of being stuffed full, stretched to your limit, our little whore?”
You could practically feel Rebekah rolling her eyes and grinning.
"Aren't you glad you indulged Rebekah now." Klaus pressed his mouth to your cheekbone, nuzzling the skin until your eyelashes fluttered. "Can't get enough, can you love? So greedy."
"Y-yes," you stutter, feeling Elijah's cock brush against your hole.
Rebekah made a pleased noise at your shaky answer, but didn't make any indication to interrupt, instead just slowly circling her clit, watching with rapt attention.
"Tell them what you want, darling," Rebekah asked quietly.
You turned and stared into her blue eyes and Rebekah breathed out heavily at your desperate gaze. "I want you to put both your cocks in me, I...want to be stuffed full, please," you rambled breathily, shutting your eyes and gasping out when your reward for those begging words was Elijah slowly easing his cock into your ass.
Your back arched slightly and you let out a loud moan, Elijah wrapped an arm around you, the other on your hip, gently urging you to move.
"Good girl, I'll go slow." Elijah's voice sent a shiver of want through you as he continued pressing in more of his thick length with an agonizing pace that left you begging and gasping.
"If only Elijah could see your pretty little face." Klaus chuckled, slowly thrusting up as his brother eventually bottomed out with a low groan, slowly shifting inside you so as not to hurt you.
After a moment, Elijah guided you with small rocks of his hips, kissing your neck and running his hand through your hair and cupping your chin. You sigh into a kiss, and with a few slow experimental pumps of his hips, the painful stretching turned into waves of pleasure.
"Oh, she likes it," Klaus laughed deeply, using his hands to roll your hips into Elijah's, guiding your hips with the upthrusts of his own.
You were completely overwhelmed as you let Klaus guide your hips. You moaned softly with each movement from either side. You had never been filled so deep. You could feel your climax rapidly approaching and all at once you wanted nothing more than both their cum buried deep inside of you.
The two of them used their combined strengths to pound you at a faster, harsher pace.
"S - shit. Fuck." Your hands started roaming your own body; touching every part of you they couldn't while on the search for release, you pinched your nipples and Klaus dipped his fingers to your clit, furiously strumming the bud in rough circles.
All three of them watched you squirming in pure ecstasy and grunting as their pleasure crashed. The heat was growing intense, leaving you weak and desperate. They didn't stop as your walls began to tighten, continuing at their hurried pace until you finally fell over the edge, taking them with you.
For a moment, everything went hazy as they filled you with their cum, their moans echoed in the room and they caught your shaking body, murmuring praise and reassurances until you regained your ability to think.
Elijah pulled out of you and Klaus caressed your thighs with his hands, his thumb rubbing circles across your skin. He kisses you gently on your forehead and moves you off his lap, laying you down on the bed.
Rebekah laid down beside you, kissing your cheeks and making you giggle. She looked gorgeous, gently biting at her lip as she admired your blissed out expression. You wanted to make her feel good, since she'd been so left out in this adventure.
You pushed her gently on to her back, kissing her neck and lips. You move down her body, licking and biting and tugging. She threads her fingers into your hair and you shuffle between her legs, sucking on her nipples and swirling them with the tip of your tongue. She moans and bucks her hips.
"Thank you for being so patient Becca," you smirk and wink, sending a flush of color rushing through her pretty face.
Using both of your hands, you raise her left thigh higher onto your shoulder as you lick between her soft pussy lips. You glance back towards Rebekah's brothers, expecting one of them to take advantage of your inviting posture.
Elijah steps forwards and bends over you, kissing your ass cheeks before easing his cock into your pussy, moving with slow, lazy thrusts. His hands roam your ass, murmuring praise and making you blush.
Rebekah groans softly, and that is all the encouragement you need to start focusing your attention on her clit, slurping messily, loving the sounds you are pulling from her. You ease two fingers into her heat, curling your fingers as you thrust and swirl them inside her, drawing out more and more of the erotic symphony she makes.
You can tell she is close by the way her legs are trembling. You pull your mouth away from her core to let out a sharp cry as Elijah picks up the speed. You quickly re-attach your mouth to her pussy and fuck her fast and hard with your fingers. The rapid pressure of your fingers against her g-spot has Rebekah grabbing at your hair and trying to hold your mouth firmly to her clit as she falls apart, squeezing your head with her thighs.
She pulls you back by the hair and lets out a contented sigh, softly moaning as your fingers continue moving deep inside her.
Rebekah giggled at the look on your face, watching you being slowly fucked by Elijah, she could tell you were desperate for more.
"You love to torture her, don't you Elijah," Rebekah hissed, feeling the soft bites your teeth delivered to her tender skin. "You want her to beg for more, don't you?"
"She can hardly beg with your thighs clamped around her head," Elijah chuckled.
You moaned as Elijah's hand tangled into your hair, pulling you up so your face was pulled away from Rebekah's pussy, her wetness covered your lips and chin.
Klaus was watching the scene, stroking himself, smirking as you gasped when Elijah took complete control.
"You are ours," Elijah growled, nipping at your neck. "And we are going to show you just how much we love having our little play thing around."
His lips traced along your pulse-point before nipping his teeth across your flesh, leaving red and purplish bite marks as he went.
Klaus and Rebekah moved closer, both of them sitting up on their knees in front of you. You reached out to Rebekah, your fingers moving back between her legs. Her eyes fluttered closed, her breath catching in her throat. Your fingers found her clit and gently circled it.
Her hips jerked towards your hand as you continued to grind your ass back on Elijah's cock.
You took Klaus in your other hand and stroked his length, the four of you moving in sync, your hands, lips, hips and tongue working in tandem to tease and pleasure them.
There were so many different sensations and you were trembling from the intensity of it all. You had no control over anything, and yet you had complete power over the sensations they were all receiving. 
It was filthy, scandalous, but it felt so good.
Elijah sank his cock deeper into you and his mouth trailed kisses along the back of your neck. Klaus, Rebekah and you were panting and moaning, each of you edging closer to climax.
Rebekah came first, she threw her head back and moaned loudly, her body tensed, her muscles clenching around your fingers. You watched as she rode your hand, her cunt pulsing and you moaned with delight as her thighs tightened.
Klaus was next, and he grunted as he came, spilling into your hand. His eyes were glazed over and he grinned lazily.
Elijah picked up the pace, his thrusts growing faster and harder as he approached his own climax. "Going to fill your delicious little pussy up," he growled, his grip on your hips tightening.
He buried his cock inside you and came, causing you to buck and whimper. You felt his release fill you and you couldn't help but groan.
"Such a pretty little thing, so good for us," Klaus whispered as he stroked your hair. Watching your eyebrows arch as you came on Elijah's cock. Rebekah cooed in the background, smiling with pride.
All thoughts evaporated as the sweet tension took over and you let go, moaning long and low as your climax hit.
Elijah pulled out of you, letting you fall forward into Klaus' arms. Elijah smacked your ass, loving the way the light burn added to your fading high.
You giggled softly as Klaus laid you down on top of him, while Elijah and Rebekah snuggled up on either side of you.
All thoughts dissolved with the warm afterglow, and the loving caresses on your heated skin. You buried your face into Klaus's chest, Rebekah massaging your scalp, Elijah gently rubbing circles across your lower back.
"I think she's the best one yet," Rebekah yawned, her cheeks still red.
"Definitely," Klaus replied, closing his eyes.
Elijah murmured softly in agreement, breathing deeply through his nose. The brothers were quickly fading to sleep.
"You guys do this often?" You chuckled, listening to their hearts thump as they calmed down.
"Only occasionally," Elijah admitted sleepily, kissing the top of your head. "For special occasions with special people,"
You smiled contently, pleased with yourself and the three immortals surrounding you.
"So are you saying I'm special?" You teased, giggling at their groans.
"Yes darling, extraordinarily so," Rebekah sighed happily, nuzzling into your shoulder. "Please, don't leave."
"Ever." Klaus and Elijah grumbled.
"Never ever." You sighed contently, drifting off to sleep in the warm embrace of three, perfect lovers.
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gay-dorito-dust · 6 days
Note
Hii i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but if you areeee
Can you write smth about Ford x reader where they obviously got a crush on each other (but they dont confess they’re shyly dumb) but the crush got bigger bc reader decides to peck Ford on the cheek as a “Thank you” bc he helped them with smth, yanno yanno :33
Ps: I really really love your writing waaa keep up the good work!!
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The crush you harbour on Ford and him on you was the least subtle thing ever, everyone could see the way you looked at each other as though the other hung the stars in the sky; you were both smitten kittens but were too scared to admit it for one reason or another.
You didn’t know when exactly you started having a crush on Ford, you merely assumed that was always the case ever since you met the man with the beautiful brown eyes, and you were perfectly content with that but what you weren’t content with was how everyone wanted you to confess.
‘He doesn’t like me like that, I’m not sure he likes anyone within a romantic aspect.’ You’d use as your excuse whenever anyone brings up the fact that you had yet to bear your heart to Ford.
‘Then you haven’t seen the way he looks at you.’ They’d respond and you could only look at them as though they’ve grown a second head. However they spoke the truth as Ford was equally as infatuated with you and would find himself pushing back the work he didn’t think required all his attention, all in favour of spending time with you whether it be star gazing or anomaly hunting.
Ford couldn’t remember the last time he felt light on his feet, head in the clouds and as though he was thirty years younger then he actually was and it was all thanks to you. While he wants to confess he found himself unable to do so when he looked into your eyes and found everything he could ever wish for within them; only to end up speechless as your eyes flickered with multiple emotions at once as he remained stood still as a statue, staring at you with a fondness within his eyes as you spoke random things to fill the silence.
This half attempts to confess -or lack there of an attempt- was enough to annoy the people close to you both as Stanley wants to put his head through a wall, Dipper vowed to himself to never be this bad and Mabel was on the verge of screaming at you both to kiss and get it over with at this point; the slow burn was killing her with how hesitant or chocked up you both become in each others presence.
They just wanted you two to cut the bullshit and start being a couple, solely just to make up for the months they’ve all have to suffer from seeing you both obviously pine for one another.
So currently you and Ford were looking for a so called ‘flying pig that may or may not be waddles parent or ancestor’ as Mabel had said to you both that very morning. So when Ford asked dipper if this was true, you swore you’ve never seen a boy sweat as much as Dipper did when he tried his hardest to convince you both that such a creature exists within the woods; you and Ford shared a look that spoke your unwillingness to believe, before agreeing to go out and look for this flying pig that may or may not be waddles’s ancestor.
‘Even if this flying pig is waddles’s ancestor, wouldn’t waddles also have wings by that logic?’ You asked.
‘Not necessarily my dear as the wings could be a hereditary trait that can skip multiple generations and appear in someone later down the line.’ Ford replied as he pushed up his glasses that were slipping down his nose, ‘however even I have to admit that this flying pig phenomena being real is slim to none despite everything else we’ve encountered here.’ He adds and you couldn’t help but laugh.
‘Then the billboard should read as this: Gravity falls, we’ve got everything to satisfy a diehard supernatural fanatic, just no flying pigs.’ You said in a goofy voice as you playfully nudge Ford in the side as he smiled softly, looking at you and feeling his heart become full; but before he could say anything a demonic squeal echoed throughout the forest causing you both to stop just as the birds stopped chirping.
Ford instinctively stood in front of you protectively as you tried to deduct where the blood curdling squeal came from. ‘What was that?’ You whispered my resting your chin on Ford’s shoulder as he reached for the gun at his hip upon instinct.
‘No clue dearest but I believe we might’ve found our anomaly.’ Ford replied lowly for only you to hear, only for the sound of wings beating filled your ears as a plump silhouette of a winged creature could be seen from a distance. You couldn’t help stop yourself from commenting ‘that could be a thousand things before it could be a flying pig-‘ just before you could finish the sentence the plump silhouette must’ve spotted you as it started flying towards you both at high speed; it was downright frighting.
‘FLYING PIG!’ You screamed the moment the figure got close enough to identify as both yourself and Ford ran began to run away from it as fast as your legs could carry you. ‘And here I thought Mabel had eating too much of that edible glitter and hallucinated.’ You added as Ford quickly took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he pulled you with him to hide behind a random tree, pulling you in close to his chest where you could hear his heart against your ear.
The demonic flying pig flew past you and it was them did you notice how massive those wings were for a creature that was of the same size of an average adult pig, but still it was scary to see a pig with teeth as sharp as razors; what was even more scary was the fact that pigs would eat anything and everything. You cuddled up closer to Ford instinctively as he held you close in order to comfort you. ‘It’s okay my dear, it’s gone now.’ He whispered against your head, kissing it as his hands rubbed up and down your back. ‘It must’ve gotten mad that we were within its territory and felt the need to scare us off.’
‘Well consider this officially scared off.’ You muttered against his turtlenecks finding the honest comfort and protection within his scent as you allowed it to invade your senses.
‘We’ll go back home and forget that we were almost flying pig food and watch some movies while drinking hot chocolate. How does that sound my dear?’ Ford asked and before his brain could comprehend what had happened, you had kissed his cheek and Ford felt his cheeks blossom with heat and his eyes widened.
‘That sounds perfect as long as I’m with you to do all of that of course.’ You replied softly as you looked at Ford with a soft, almost pleading expression and Ford felt his resolve crumble to dust as he averts his gaze from you.
‘I would love nothing more my dear.’ He admits and you were quick to clutch his hand in yours and drag him from your hiding place and begin your walk back to the shack, all the while keeping your wits about you in regards to one flying demon pig. ‘Then it’s a date!’ You exclaimed as you could hear Ford choke on nothing behind you, which only made you smile.
You’ll tell Mabel that you didn’t see a flying pig, but got a date out of trying to make up for the disappointment.
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malusmagpie · 1 year
Text
Gentle Hands
Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Reader
Summary: Anakin doesn’t like being touched. Everybody knows they shouldn’t touch him unless it’s absolutely necessary. Until

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Word count: 6.5K
Trigger warnings: 18+ smut and drinking
A/N: Slow burn baby! It’s Clone Wars era Anakin cuz I’ve been watching Clone Wars a lot but just imagine early ROTS Anakin bc Hayden. Okay? Okay. Also we are so back. Ps, Zeltron spiced wine is an aphrodisiac. Just fyi. No relation to this piece of writing, of course.
It was a regular day. There was a soft buzz of commotion in the Jedi Temple. Nothing loud enough to annoy you but if it was gone you’d notice. Footsteps, voices speaking, the sounds of droids doing their business. It’s what normally woke you up everyday, the relative silence of the night would begin to turn into the early morning sounds of Jedi business. In all honesty, it made you feel excited to wake up. To see what new mission would be brewing, to hear the stories of the most recent expedition. The war had its effect on you and your Master but it never broke your spirit. You were proud to be who you were, to do what you do. You were even prouder to have Master Plo Koon as your teacher. He was the kindest one, at least to your knowledge. The two girls you often hung out with on your off time told you stories of how their Masters were very strict and had little to no empathy once the war had started. You deemed yourself lucky and even more so, grateful.
Your eyes watched the small skylight that was fixed to your ceiling. Being one of the older younglings, and now a Padawan, you got to move to your own living quarters in the main complex of the temple. They all had skylights and balconies whereas the younglings were bunked in big rooms in the lower levels of the temple so they would be harder to get to incase of an ambush.
You watched the thin clouds move across the bright blue sky quickly, telling you the weather was warm with a breeze. Your legs slid off the bed, your body following suit to bring you to a sitting position. The cold marble floor of your apartment was hidden by a single carpet right by your bed and your feet revelled in the feeling of the soft fibres keeping them warm.
The clock read 7:45 and you sighed. You only had 15 minutes to be up and outside before breakfast was served and with a sigh you walked on tiptoe across the cold floor into your bathroom.
With a lazy flare you brushed your teeth and washed your face. Your hair was still damp from the shower you had taken late last night instead of sleeping. You brushed out the damp curls and they turned into soft waves. You decided that was good enough before changing and heading out the door. The second you opened the door you were greeted by your Master.
“Glad to see you awake.” Plo Koon spoke with his arms crossed over his chest. You gave him a half smile as you reached out a joking fist to punch his arm lightly.
“You stalking me now?” You said and the sound of your own voice speaking for the first time today shocked you. It sounded like you just woke up for sure. A small laugh was heard coming from your Master and it brought a smile to your face. “What’s the plan for today, Master?” You asked in hopes to sway him from thinking you’d slept in.
He gave you a shrug. “Only thing I’m planning is breakfast. We’ve been on the go for weeks. You and I both deserve a small break.” He said as he peered into the space behind you. It was a mess. Your hand pulled the door closed with a nervous laugh.
“I could eat.” You replied with a shrug and he turned on his heels and you followed him to the dining hall. The two of you walked until your eyes landed on a taller figure. His dark clothes immediately made him stand out as he spoke to one of the Clones, you believed his name was Rex. With a shaky breath you watched as Plo Koon walked over to him. They spoke about something and you tried to unglue your feet from where he had left you standing. When you finally began to move toward them, Anakin glanced at you. Your breath caught itself in your throat and before you could take another step he nodded to Plo Koon and walked away.
“Your staring doesn’t go unnoticed.” Your Master said simply as he walked past you and it took every ounce of will in your body to move and follow him. As you walked you could have sworn you felt a pair of eyes on you and you whipped your head around to see Anakin talking to somebody you didn’t know, his back was turned to you and his hands were folded behind his back. You rolled your eyes, kicking yourself for being stupid enough to think he’d ever look in your general direction.
It wasn’t as if you two had never spoken. You were the same age, both partaking in the same level of Jedi training under equally fantastic Jedi Masters. Although, your interactions had never exceeded anything beyond polite and courteous conversation due to being in the same room as each other.
As the years went on, he became a bit taller, his hair grew and he chopped off his Padawan braid, his shoulders got broader, and your heart started beating a little faster every time he was around. It didn’t go unnoticed by you. It wasn’t some strange feeling that came out of nowhere. It was very prominent in your head at all times, your growing attraction to the boy. It was almost more aggravating to deal with when you knew it was happening. You’d fight yourself every day on repressing the thoughts that would populate in your minds eye at the sight of him. You’d heard multiple stories of his aversion to people. He didn’t like being touched, he barely even liked talking to strangers. You’d seen somebody try to give him a side hug once after he and Obi-Wan had successfully completed an assignment and the look on his face mixed with his blunt words of rejection made you fear ever coming close enough to touch him. The idea of touching him was reserved for your fantasies now.
The day had gone achingly slow and it felt as though your brain was far away from your body. Your master allowed you to go eat breakfast with your two friends and the three of you chatted and caught up, though you didn’t retain much of what they said. You barely even spoke, assuming a listening role, too busy thinking about the eyes you had sworn you felt on you earlier.
Once you had finished eating you returned to your Master who was sat amongst other amicable Jedi. The two of you walked through the gardens while Plo Koon gave you advice and some of literature to read up on. You nodded your head and made a mental note to visit the archives and pick up whatever he was talking about. He dismissed you, having no further work to give you. It had been three days since your last mission had ended and you thanked your lucky stars you hadn’t gotten a new assignment as you made your way across the long and beautifully decorated hallways of the Jedi Temple. Your eyes scanned the art that hung between every window. You heard quick footsteps behind you and your body turned in an instant, your relief was obvious when you saw the face of your friend who had clearly been wandering around looking for something to do.
“Where are you off to?” She asked as she slowed her pace, nearing you. You met her halfway.
“Just the archives. Master Plo Koon gave me some stuff to check out.” You spoke and she rolled her eyes.
“Just once I wanna hear you say you’re doing something normal.” She laughed and now it was your turn to roll your eyes. The two of you fell into step together as you walked toward the room full of all the information a Jedi could possibly need.
“Jedi’s don’t live a very normal life.” You responded and she simply shrugged her shoulders. She was a bit erratic and always had been an unconventional person. It had always been clear she longed for a normal life but she wasn’t from a good family nor a good place, she knew she was better off here.
“Well you’re not a Jedi yet.” She nudged you gently with a small smile on her face. You turned your body to face her as you walked in front of her with a look of mocked shock on your face. Turning the corner, you began to say something snarky in response but her hand reached out to you and her eyes went wide.
“Y/N watch ou-“ She pursed her lips, cutting herself off when you felt a light thud against your back. You felt hands grip your shoulders gently and you whipped around to see who you had so carelessly walked into. You were faced with a chest at first but with a small upward tilt of your head you saw the curly hair and blue eyes you spent most days thinking about staring directly at you.
Of course it would be him.
Your embarrassment was painted over every aspect of you. Your shoulders slumped and your cheeks reddened. Until you realized that there was no glare, no scowl. He looked down at you with what seemed like a hint of a smile. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest as you backed away from his touch. His hands seemed to attempt to linger on your shoulders before dropping to his sides. With a deep breath you began to apologize and he looked between you and your friend.
“Didn’t see you there, my fault.” He said gently as he slipped by the two of you. “Have a nice evening.” He finished. You looked back at your friend and you couldn’t imagine your facial features were much different from hers. With wide eyes and slightly parted lips you both shook your heads as he walked away.
“Sorry!” You finally blurted out behind him, causing your eyes to squeeze shut. You wished you could curl up inside yourself and die when all you heard in response was his distant chuckle. The two of you watched as he entered a room and closed the door behind him and the second he was gone, your friend began to cackle.
“Sorry.” She mimicked as you stared at her. “Man. I was expecting him to tell you right off.” She continued to speak through her laughs. You didn’t say anything. You shoulders were burning where his hands had been and your stomach felt like it had been tied into knots. Another deep breath eased you into being able to move again.
“He’s so weird.” You said, brushing it off in an attempt to neutralize her. It worked and you desperately tried to change the subject by asking her about herself. The two of you walked and she rambled on about some mission she had just come back from until you got to the archives. When you were done downloading everything onto a small device, you turned to her. “I have to go back to Plo Koon. I forgot to ask him something. I’ll see you tomorrow?” You lied, desperately trying to be alone. She nodded and said something about seeing you tomorrow, you weren’t listening, before leaving you to go find something else to do.
You rushed to your apartment in the Temple, finally letting out a deep sigh when you heard the door of your safe space close behind you. You tossed the small device that held all the information you needed on the small table in the middle of the apartment before sitting on the couch beside it. You felt as though there wasn’t enough air in the apartment for you to breathe in, which made no sense, but you opened your balcony door anyways.
The soft sounds of the fountain in the garden and the bustling of people below you didn’t seem to clear your head. You sighed, feeling as if you might finally be going insane. The thoughts in your head were clambering over one another in order to be heard as you paced the main room. You ran a hand through your hair and tightened your fist at your scalp with another weary sigh. Without a second thought you began to drop all your clothing off your body, leaving them behind you like a small trail to the bathroom. You adjusted the shower to be on the coldest setting and stared at the water, thinking of how water never looked cold or hot; it always just looked like water. Before you let yourself think your way out of it, you stepped in and a loud yelp escaped your mouth.
“Shit!” You yelled as the freezing water unrelentingly pelted against your skin. You cursed under your breath as if you were mad at the water for not realizing you were uncomfortable but you pressed your eyes shut and took heavy, pursed lipped breaths. When you began to feel as if you couldn’t take it anymore, your hand reached out to the faucet and you turned it to a higher heat setting. The sudden heat hitting your body made you feel like you could drop to the ground so you did. You let yourself sit on the floor of the shower and warm up. Your breathing became normal and your heart rate slowed. The thoughts got quieter but they were still there. The feeling of the hot water on your shoulders mimicked a feeling you’d felt earlier and that’s when you stood back up and turned the water off completely.
With legs that felt like jello you dried off and pushed yourself toward your closet and found something to lay down in. You’d sleep early tonight and forget about it all in the morning, you thought. Soft linen pants and an equally soft shirt adorned your frame and you decided a drink wouldn’t kill you. You settled into a spot on your couch with crossed legs, a large glass of wine on the table, and a salty snack you’d been waiting to try in your lap. Your hand reached for the small remote next to you and you watched the screen in front of you flicker to life at the press of a button. You let whatever was on the Holo play, not bothering to find something you enjoy. You just wanted something to distract you.
Hours passed and your eyes were yet to get heavy. There was no level of relaxation that could make you go to bed. You glanced at the clock on the wall and chewed at a piece of skin that had released its hold on your lip. You lifted the glass to your lips and found it to be empty. The bottle was on the table, empty as well. You rolled your eyes and let a breath out from your closed lips causing them to flutter and make a funny noise. You felt seemingly alright for somebody who’d polished a bottle of Zeltron spiced wine, you thought. With a swift motion you stood up and wobbled like a newborn deer.
You might have slightly misread your sobriety level.
It took a few steps to steady yourself but you did it. Your hand reached for your hooded robe on the hook by the front door and you slipped on your boots. The pairing looked silly with your pyjamas and you decided to tie up your robe in a small effort to hide it.
You opened your door slowly and peered around the dimly lit hallways before stepping out completely and closing the door behind you, locking it twice to make sure you did it. Your footsteps seemed so loud no matter how quietly you tried to walk, they echoed off the marble floors and high ceilings. It wasn’t a crime to be out at night but as a Padawan your Master should always know what you’re doing, and Plo Koon was definitely in the dark on your actions.
You wandered through the hallways and noticed how vastly different they looked without the natural light pouring through the ceiling high windows. The paintings almost had an eerie look about them and the dim lighting had the opposite of a warm effect on you. You ignored your paranoia, it was just the wars sick effect on you. You began to hum to clear your thoughts, a tune you remember from your childhood. You didn’t remember much other than your life at the Temple but you held on dearly to the small bits you remembered from before.
Without you even realizing, the hallway you had wandered into seemed to have broken light fixtures and it was completely dark. You slowed your steps and reached into the Force for a brief bit of direction. You felt something in front of you and you felt your heart begin to race. You froze in place and squeezed your eyes shut when you felt it get closer. A small thump made a yelp escape your lips as hands gripped your shoulders tightly. One hand left your shoulders and your eyes widened in fear, your mouth dropped open but no sound escaped.
The loud hum of a lightsaber igniting filled the air just as quickly as the blue light that illuminated the face in front of you. Your look of horror didn’t wash away when you saw who it was.
“Y/N, what the hell are you doing sulking around in the dark?” Anakin spoke in a hushed yet aggressive tone. Your mouth opened and closed but you couldn’t get any words to fall through. He raised an eyebrow, his shoulders dropped and he looked more relaxed now that he knew you were harmless. It seemed he had the same fear as you did, walking through the dark halls. “Have you been drinking?” He asked, his hand never left your shoulder and you turned your head slowly to look at it before looking at him again with a nod.
He laughed. Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow.
“What’s so funny?” You said, your voice barely audible.
“Nothing. Just the second time today you’ve walked directly into me.” He mused.
“I wasn’t walking.” You shrugged.
“All the same.” He shrugged back, his hand dropped from your shoulder and he made his way next to you, his hand now found a spot on your lower back. “Let’s get you back to your room.”
You shook your head. “I left my room for a reason.”
“And what would that be?” His voice had never been this quiet before, it made you feel safe.
“You ask a lot of questions. Why are you sulking around in the dark?” You built up the courage to speak to him like a normal person. Your drunken mind didn’t even notice that he hadn’t once let his hand fall away from your body since you had bumped into each other.
“I was going to the gardens to think.” He answered and it shocked you, you almost thought he wouldn’t. You looked at him for a moment before shrugging again, giving your head a tilt.
“I was too.” You said with all the certainty you could muster, which wasn’t much. He smiled again, it was rare you saw him laugh or smile and in the last minute or so, you’d seen both. It made your stomach feel warm and it wasn’t just the wines fault.
“Right. Let’s go then.” He played along, guiding you down the dark hallway with his lightsaber. He disengaged it when the exit of the Temple came into your vision. The door was pushed open by him and the hand he had on the small of your back, ushered you out in front of him. You realized his level of touchiness when he rushed over after you to place his hand back on you.
Your heart felt like it was making its way up your throat and you couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. Something in your stomach began to feel warm and your head felt so far from your body you thought you could faint. You didn’t want him to stop touching you so when you both got to a small spot in the garden, surrounded by bushes, you pulled him over by his arm and sat on the soft grass. He looked down at you with the ends of his lips curled and sat crossed-legged across from you. You mimicked his position and inched forward so your knees were touching his. Every single place that was touched by him went fire hot. You’d never felt like this. You weren’t sure if it was the wine or him, either way you would live like this forever if you could.
When he didn’t protest to your knees touching his, you looked at him. “Thought you didn’t like being touched.” Your words came out slightly slurred but you tried your best to hide it by articulating a little better.
“That is circumstantial, Y/N.” He responded, eyeing you. It seemed as though he was trying to read you. You felt judged but not in a bad way. You allowed him to look, even sitting up a bit straighter. Your head tilted again at his response. Your hand absent mindedly fiddled with the grass under you, twirling the blades between your fingers.
“To what?” You asked gently, feeling a quiet in your mind that you hadn’t felt since he had touched you outside the Archives. His eyes watched your hands play with the grass when he spoke.
“You.” He didn’t look at you. Was he nervous or lying? You couldn’t tell and it caused a small laugh to escape your lips. He finally looked at you, his puzzled features were desperately scanning you to figure why you would laugh at him.
“Me? You want me to touch you?” You laughed again. You wouldn’t be surprised if in a few moments you woke up in a cold sweat on your couch. Your nerves were gone, and he was here with you. He was touching you, he was looking into your eyes. It had to be a dream.
“What if I do?” He leaned back on his hands, his long torso extended in the most delicious way and you didn’t bother trying to disguise your staring. There was an intensity in the air that made it feel okay to be like this. You felt like you were heating up more and more by the second and you wondered if he felt the same. You watched his chest, it moved faster than a normal persons would, signalling that was breathing heavily.
“We did a mission together once.” He spoke again, snapping you out of your trance. You looked at him, your head shook as a reaction. That was two years ago, when you were both 20. You went on a mission with three Jedi and three Padawans including yourself, Anakin, Plo Koon, and Obi-Wan. They thought a big mission like that would do better with a larger group.
“I’m aware.” You said nonchalantly. You remembered it but you were shocked that he did too.
“You helped carry me back onto the ship. You got me water and dressed the cut I got on my face.” His hand touched the scar over his eye instinctively as he spoke. You looked away, following your arm down to where your hand was gripping the grass gently.
“It was nothing.” You shrugged.
“It was protocol,” He started, a shrug of his own mimicked yours. “But it felt so intimate. I felt like electricity had run through me every time you touched me. Every time you apologized for accidentally hurting me I felt my heartbeat in my ears.” He looked at you and you prayed he didn’t see you holding your breath. You ripped one piece of grass out of the ground and raised it to tie it into several small knots, the same knots you felt in your stomach. There was no use in pretending his words didn’t affect you the way they did.
“You can always tell me to stop if you want me to shut up.” He whispered as his hand reached to yours, taking the blade of grass from you and replacing it with his own hands.
“There’s no way you’re doing this right now.” Your drunken words came out a little louder than you wanted and you laughed as a response at your own inability to self regulate. You slipped your hands out of his and crossed them over your chest.
“What? You think you’re the only one here capable of feeling things?” He smirked, a joking tone laced in his voice. Your eyes widened and you looked at him.
“You don’t act like it. You’ve never spoken to me for more than a few minutes. You found me drunk and alone at night and suddenly you felt electricity all those months ago? Your heartbeat in your ears?” You laughed. Sober you wouldn’t dare speak to anybody like this. You were kind and curt no matter what the scenario. It felt like you had been possessed by an over-confident, aggressive, and unserious version of yourself. You didn’t mind it when you saw the look on his face. He had been joking but your serious response clearly wasn’t what he had been pining for.
“Would you rather I follow you around like a lost puppy? Or try to talk to you every chance I get? Why would I make my feelings obvious, Y/N?” He asked, his voice was still gentle and it made your arms tingle with the feeling of goosebumps raising.
“Maybe. Maybe I do. I spent years watching you, praying you’d let your eyes linger for long enough to see how highly I feel about you.” Your words probably didn’t make sense, but you felt they did. He got it, you could tell by the way his eyebrows pushed themselves apart from their furrowed position and his eyes adopted a more understanding emotion.
“Why dwell on me being an idiot and not focus on the fact that if you were anybody else you’d have been left alone for the night?” He asked and you rolled your eyes. Was he really that arrogant?
“Because you being an ‘idiot’ made me feel like a bigger idiot and a bit of a creep.” You said bluntly and he laughed.
“If I told you how I felt about you, I’d be the creep.” He chuckled and you raised your chin in curiosity.
“Do tell.” You mused, the serious air leaving almost immediately as leaned back on your own hands with a grin.
“No.” He shook his head with a small grin finding his features as well.
“Please? I’ll tell you if you tell me.” You tried to barter and even though you felt like a young, naive, school girl you enjoyed the aura of the interaction.
“Fine.” He sat up, his knees raised and he draped his arms over them and you followed, sitting in the same position. Your faces were a few feet away on account of how long his legs were but you stared at each other for a moment, stifling giddy laughs and smiles. “At first, I thought you were the most talented Jedi I’d ever seen. You’re smart too. Dedicated.” He started and you smiled.
“I know all of that, Anakin. Get to the good stuff.” You gestured your hand in the air as if saying ‘hurry up’ and he rolled his eyes.
“Patience.” He made a mockingly serious face before going on with his grand revelation. “I like that you’re confident in yourself. Everything I’ve heard about your missions was always positive, the trust your Master has in you is incredible.” He cleared his throat. He was beating around the bush and he knew it. You groaned a bit and he held his hand up. “But you’re also beautiful. I can always tell who’s laughing when I hear you. Even if I’m not looking. I know it’s you. It’s very distinct. If the suns raised every morning just to see your face and head your laugh it wouldn’t surprise me. I can always feel when you’re around, your presence alone is so loud
 Warm and.. Inviting. I always think about you and whenever I catch it I beat myself right the hell up.” He shrugged.
You stared at him. That wasn’t what you expected. Not from a man with his reputation. You expected something baseline and boring. Even a bit sexual. He is a man after all but he shocked you for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.
“Why would you beat yourself up?” You asked, skillfully dodging all the soft and mushy stuff he had mentioned. He shrugged.
“Obvious reasons, Y/N.” He said simply and you nodded. “Your turn.” He smiled and you internally screamed at yourself for promising this to him. It was only fair but Maker, it was embarrassing.
“I hate to be the person who says something as easy as ‘I feel the same’
” You trailed off and he leaned forward, like he was eager to hear what you had to say. It made you feel special. “But I do. I might even feel more intensely than you.” You took a deep breath to help yourself get it over with. “I admire you more than you could know. I’ve never known anybody who’s been through so many adversaries and came over them to be as amazing as you. I think of you every day and since earlier, it’s gotten almost unbearable to deal with. I think about you during the day and I dream of you at night. I know it’s not right but I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you. Every aspect of you.”
You didn’t get very far in your confession before Anakin pushed both of your legs down and pulled you toward him. You almost floated toward him and into his lap. Your eyes stared at him wildly as his hand touched the side of your cheek, stroking it gently. “Anakin..” You started and he shook his head.
“Please let me try this. It’s all I can ever think about.” He whispered and you didn’t object. His nose touched yours and your eyes fluttered shut. His breath against your lips made some kind of switch inside of you flip and you pushed your lips against his as your hands grabbed at the fabric on his back before moving up to the nape of his hair. He moaned against you and you let out a heavy breath between your lips. The sound alone made you push him down on his back and you clambered over him.
He held you tightly to his body and rolled the two of you over so he would be over you. Through heavy handed kisses he whispered something but you couldn’t make it out.
“Hm?” You asked, pulling away. He stared at you with an intensity you’d never seen before and it made your blood feel like lava in your veins. You anticipated his response.
“Keep this up and I’m going to have to take some extreme measures.” His voice was gravelly and his breath hit your face with every syllable. You felt your breathing become erratic and sharp. You stared up at him and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes almost closed at the feeling. You pulled him back toward you, engaging him in another longing kiss. You moaned when his tongue slipped between your lips. Your hips moved up toward his instinctually and he pushed them back down with a sound that almost sounded like a growl.
“Don’t.” He whispered.
“Why not?” You responded. The wine had taken its natural affect on you and at this point, having him was all you wanted.
“I want it to be special.” He said as he pulled away from you. He had a level of restraint that he was struggling to maintain and you could feel it.
“You’ll have plenty of do-overs.” You mumbled before pulling him back to you and he gave in. He untied your robe and looked down at your pyjamas that were hiding underneath and a small chuckle escaped him before he began to pull away the clothing on your body. He left your panties on before he pulled his own shirt off. His pants stayed on and you didn’t care. You could stare at his body forever, so you stared with wide and lustful eyes. It was far better than you could ever have imagined and it made you squeeze your legs together.
His hand traced down from your cheek to your chin, across your collarbone and down the side of your body. He hit a spot where you were a bit sensitive and you jerked at the ticklish feeling. He smiled, tracing his finger up and down a few times to see your reaction. You whined in response and he didn’t waste anytime in giving you what you wanted.
His hand felt ginormous between your legs and you sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers danced over your panties. He felt how wet you were and a smirk washed over his face. “I’m not even gonna say it.” He laughed gently as he increased the pressure of his movements against you.
“Say what?” You said, your words mixed into the sound of a moan.
“How wet you are and how much I like it.” He leaned down and began to pepper kisses all over your neck and collarbone. Your eyes rolled back into your head when he slipped your underwear to one side and ran his fingers through your folds. Your back arched and you spread your legs a bit more for him and he smiled against your skin. “Good girl.” He whispered, causing a small whimper to leave you.
Anakin’s fingers worked your throbbing heat gently, starting with one pumping in and out of you at an alarmingly slow pace. You wriggled under him and he used his free hand to hold you still. “Patience.” He repeated his words from earlier. You tried to keep still while he added a second finger and increased his pace, curling them ever so gently. Moans fell from your lips and you tried your best to silence them. You focused on staring up at the stars above you, not even caring that the two of you were doing this outdoors, hidden between a few bushes.
After what seemed like a decade, he pulled his fingers out of you and pressed them against your clit. Your own excitement was all he needed for lubricant. He rubbed it slowly while sucking gently at your neck. “Anakin.” You moaned and he hummed as a response. “Please don’t stop.” You said desperately.
“I like it when you beg.” He whispered as he moved his fingers in quick circular motions against your clit. You felt your entire body jerk up toward him at the new feeling. You’d done this yourself multiple times and it had never felt as good as it did right now. Your eyes squeezed shut as your felt yourself get closer and closer to euphoria. Your hands gripped at his hair, pulling and tugging it, causing a moan to leave his mouth and you felt the feeling come barreling at you like a freight train. You felt your body begin to vibrate and all it took was a few words from him to tip you over the edge. “Cum for me.” He whispered and a yelp left your mouth as you released every bit of tension in your body. You grinded against his fingers and he slowed his movements. You rode it out until you were able to open your eyes. When you did, you saw him staring down at you and your cheeks flushed.
“I’m sorry..” You started and he shook his head.
“Please don’t be. I’ve thought about doing that for months.” He smiled and you returned the expression. Your embarrassment left as quickly as it came and you began to reach for his pants. His hand rested over yours. “Have you ever had sex?” He asked and you shook your head reluctantly. He sighed. “I can’t do that right now. I won’t make that something that happens when you’re drunk, let alone in a field outside the Temple.” He finished and you sighed. A nod followed.
“Okay..” You smiled and he gently pulled your shirt back over your head and began to raise your pants to your waist again. You lifted your hips to help him as he got you dressed before he put his own shirt back on. He grabbed your robe and tied it around you the same way you had done earlier before brushing your hair behind your ear.
“You’re beautiful.” He said and you pushed at his chest lightly. He grasped at his chest as if he’d been shot and fell over onto his back. You laughed at him and he laughed with you. It was nice seeing this side of him, it made him seem like he was just a normal boy. You liked feeling normal.
“I want to take you out. Somewhere nice.” He sat up, his hand rested on your leg. You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Like a date? As if we have the time.” You laughed gently.
“We both have time, while the council decides on what we need to do about this stupid war.” He shrugged and you looked at him, resting your hand over his on your leg.
“Fine. I’ll go on a date with you.” You nodded.
“Don’t sound too excited.” He joked as he stood up, pulling you up with him.
“I’ll try not to.” You smiled at him and your cheeks went bright red when he laced his fingers within your own, holding your hand as he walked you back through the dark hallways to your apartment.
When you finally arrived at your door, you unlocked it and he stepped in with you. You turned back to look at him with confusion.
“I couldn’t find my key. That’s why I was wandering around earlier.” He said sheepishly and you laughed harder than you had in years. It took a few moments for you to compose yourself.
“Oh that’s why you said and did all that? You just needed a place to sleep?” You joked and he rolled his eyes.
“I’d have found a cleaner apartment to do so if that was the case.” He joked back and you giggled.
“You can stay here.” You smiled and showed him the bathroom and the room, even though your apartment was small and you didn’t really need to. He made his way to your couch and you scoffed. “You just made me cum in a field and you’re trying to sleep on my couch? Go to the bed.” You said as you walked into the bathroom and you heard him chuckle behind you.
“You got a point.” He said as he sat on the edge of your bed. He pulled his shirt off and folded it neatly on the floor beside him, ignoring the fact that half your clothes were strewn across the room carelessly. He could fix that later.
The two of you laid down and he held you close as you fell into a deep sleep. You’d never slept that well before and neither had he.
2K notes · View notes
hirukochan · 11 months
Note
I feel cheeky sending another ask but I lived the interrogation one so much so just 3 so words: snape sex pollen. Perhaps a professor x professor?
(Ps: is their a place that I can support your writing!!!)
Snape x Professor sex pollen coming right up đŸ«Ą
Writing is one of my many beloved hobbies; liking, reblogging, giving kudos or commenting is all the support I need! Thank you very much for asking though!
Blue Speckled Mushrooms
(Severus Snape x fem!Professor oneshot)
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Words: 2572
Warnings: 18+ Sex Pollen :D - mutual dub-con, some biting, rough smut
Summary: In your continuing efforts to catch the grumpy Potion Master's attention you follow him into the Forbidden Forest - a mistake of perhaps destiny unfolding?
This is play post-war, Sev survives - not that it matters much to the 'plot'
Read on Ao3 or below the cut:
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It could have been so easy. Gather these blasted Moon Cornflowers and Speckled Blue Mushrooms and return to the castle. It’s all he asks for. Moon Cornflowers and Speckled  Blue Mushrooms to finish the brew currently under stasis in his office. Two plants. Just a few of each. They couldn’t be preserved through either magic or other means and had to be harvested within three hours of being used in a potion and only during a full moon. 
Now usually this is no problem for an accomplished potion master such as Severus Snape. A quick trip to the forest and done. He knows the half-forgotten paths, the safe routes. Knows how to avoid the Centaurs and other nastier beasts that live in the Forbidden Forest.
He does not know how to avoid her.
Irritating, stupid girl.
She took over the History of Magic position earlier that year, one of Snape’s first students he taught after becoming a professor himself at merely twenty-one. A seventh year at the time who already stared at him in the library back when he was a student. 
She just wouldn’t leave him alone!
“Midnight stroll?” She asks with that irritating smile on her stupid pretty face and follows him into the forest.
“What do you want?!” He growls at her. She keeps trying to make conversation with him, keeps sitting next to him during meals or in the staff room, talking. Always talking. Talking talking talking. 
How can a single person be this annoying?
She is still talking. Jesus fucking christ!
“So anyway
what are you doing here?”
“I don’t see how that is of any concern to you.”
“Just curious, is all.” She replies. Stupid girl. And she is still following him!
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You have no idea what to do anymore. You’ve tried everything. You’ve tried catching his attention by talking to him, leaving the top button of your blouse undone, batting your lashes at him like a teen on a love potion, you’ve searched his company, flirted like your stupid life depends on it and the cranky bastard doesn’t even recognise it! 
You run to catch up with his long strides, wrapping your cloak around yourself to shield yourself from the cold night air.
You were about to go to bed, just finishing up your rounds through the castle on the lookout for students out of bed when you saw his billowing cloak sweep out of the entrance door. You of course followed him. Curious as to what he was going to do outside but also secretly hoping today’s the day he’ll finally notice your intentions.
Perhaps you have to be less subtle. You thought men like to be subtly seduced but Snape is not like any man you’ve known! Maybe he doesn’t like playing cat and mouse, doesn’t enjoy the chase. 
You’ll be blunt! Yes, if a stroll through the forest at midnight doesn’t do the trick you’ll gather what little courage you have and just make the first step yourself. You’re an independent woman! You don’t need to wait around for Snape to realise you’re interested in him and make the first step.
“Are you gathering ingredients of sorts?” You ask and walk quicker to keep up, pressing your arm against his by walking closer to him. He glares at you.
“Obviously.” He snarls and looks forward again.
“Cool. cool cool cool
.um
which ones?”
He audibly grumbles.
“Sorry, I couldn’t understand you.” You smile. He is making it very hard to be attracted to him. Grumbly bastard. Prickly idiot. Why can’t he just fuck you? Shove you into a broom closet and let out his frustrations if you’re so bloody annoying to be around! Why can’t you fall head over heels for someone normal?
Because normal is boring.
Your eyes glide over his sharp jaw, every muscle tensed, about ready to snap, beneath his pale skin that shines in the moonlight.
“I said, you were a daft, simple-minded girl when I had the misfortune of attempting to teach you potions - I very much doubt you’d understand any more now than you did seventeen years ago!”
His venom cuts deep. You stumble backwards. You thought he was clumsy when it comes to socialising, that he perhaps didn’t understand your intentions, not that he loathes you.
“Oh
” You murmur. “Um
okay
” don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. “Sorry for bothering you.” You turn on your heels and run. He calls after you but you ignore it, disappearing between the trees into the undergrowth, away from Snape because you are about to cry your eyes out like the stupid little girl he sees in you and you are not about to embarrass yourself any further than you already have! You just want to go back to your quarters.
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Stupid girl! Insufferable, annoying, bothersome, foolish girl!
Snape runs after her. He considered leaving her to her own fate and capabilities and collect his ingredients but he had been cursed with a conscience. A nasty, biting thing demanding he not let her run to her death in an Acromantula den.
He’ll tear her a new one when he catches up to her! The sheer idiocy! Running into the Forbidden Forest like that! What possessed her.
“Stop running!” He snarls, draws his wand and sends a non-verbal Stupor at her. She stumbles and falls face-first into the flower field spreading over the clearing they had entered during their chase. Snape lifts his spell.
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You spin around, furious. How fucking dare he? Isn’t it enough to insult you? Does he have to embarrass you by forcing you to bear your pathetic little hurt feelings to him?
He stands at the other end of the clearing, pale blue flowers reaching to his calves, emitting a gentle glow. He looks furious. The light of the full moon illuminates him from the back, deepening his already sharp features, cloaking his face and body in menacing shadows.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He snarls and points towards the direction you were running in. “Do you want to be eaten by enormous spiders?”
“Like you give a damn!” You shout and pick yourself up off the ground. Swiftly you brush loose dirt and a few pedals off your robes and out of your hair. The motherfucker stunned you!
“I might be a cold son of a bitch but I am not letting a colleague run to her death - no matter how annoying said colleague is. The way back to the castle is-” A wind picks up. His cloak flutters behind him, the fabric whispering with the motion. Pedals are ripped from the flowers.
His eyes widen.
You tilt your head to the side, brows pulled together. “Severus?”
“Stay where you are!” He hisses, sending droplets of spit flying. You look around, confused, searching the dark rows of trees for some beastly critter about to attack but you find none. Snape’s eyes are pinned to yours. His chest is heaving, his breath seems shallow. You take a step forward to which Snape instantly backs away, keeping his wand pointed at- you?
“What’s going on?”
“To the castle! Go back to the castle!”
“I am not your student! You can’t give me orders! And to think I’ve been trying to go on a date with you for months!”
“You have to go back to the castle now or- what?” His wand hand sinks a little. A crease forms between his brows. You’ve never seen Severus so puzzled.
“Year really
” You mutter. “Back in school too-”
“I am not in the mood for jokes or pranks.”
“It’s not!” You take another step forward. Severus’ back hits a tree. The wind picks up. A sweet scent reaches your nose, infiltrates your mind, swirls around your brain like vapours of a potion-
Weren’t you cold?
You were! Yes, you were- but it’s so hot- when did it get so hot?
“Stop that!” Snape snarls again.
“Stop what?” You roll your eyes and pause- your cloak lies in the flower field three steps away from you. You have unbuttoned your robes, revealing the white blouse and dark trousers underneath- when-?
“Go. back.” He has his jaw clenched, teeth pressed together. His nostrils flare, his eyes flick down to your chest and he seems to struggle to force them back up.
“Are you hot too?” Your fingers pry open the buttons of your blouse without you even noticing or you’re just not thinking about it

“Go-”
“What’s happening?”
“Pollen-”
“What?”
“Where you shit in Herbology too?!” He snaps and you glare at him about ready to-
Your blouse slips off your shoulders and falls to the ground. “Stop- you don’t want this-”
“What? What is this?”
“A rare flower.” His voice sounds pressed, as though he’s struggling to speak, to breathe, to exist. He has his back moulded to the tree, clutching at the bark with his hands, straining to keep his eyes on your face.
The button on your trousers is open.
“The pollens they emit to the air to spread and form these dense fields- they have a unique effect on humans-”
“Which effect?”
“Can’t you tell, stupid girl?”
Your trousers push past your hips.
“You should be running from me, not stripping for me.” His eyes graze over your body, standing in front of him in only your underwear, devouring the sight. His eyes trace along the curves of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake
Heat rushes to your core.
“Sex pollen-” You gasp, noticing you’re standing a mere arm's length away from him now.
“The rather crude colloquial name - yes.”
“Severus- what-”
“Too late, stupid girl.” He snarls and the next moment he’s on you, pouncing at you like a wild beast. His woodsy, herbal scent flows around you, mixing with the sweet smell of the damned flower. His hands grip your arms roughly, blunt nails dig into your flesh. Severus swirls you around and pushes you against the tree. Bark scratches against your skin, stabbing into it but you don’t even notice.
It’s like a trance has taken over your mind and only one thing matters. 
He.
Severus’ mouth latches onto your throat. A million tiny explosions rush over your skin where he touches you and you moan, a feral sound ripped harshly from your throat, echoing over the empty clearing. Severus growls in response, even more feral, even less human. His teeth scrape over your throat. His hands roam over your body, squeezing your breasts, your thighs. Then he tears at his own clothes, shedding layer after layer with a quickness and urgency that has your head spinning.
“Stupid girl.” He repeats and kisses up to your jaw, your cheek. Heated, open-mouth kisses that leave your skin marked by his saliva. 
You place your hands on his shoulders, searching for something to hold onto, something to pull you back into reality, your head spinning, skin exploding, core hurting. You’re so aroused, so need it fucking hurts.
“Severus-” You moan. His hands find your thighs and he lifts you up. Your legs wrap around him on their own accord.
“You should have run when you still had the chance.” He snarls against your lips, his breath brushes over your skin. “You’ll regret this.”
“Shut up and fuck me, you prick!”
Your lips meet in a violent clash of teeth and tongue. You’re pretty sure he bites you or perhaps you bite him. None of it matters anymore when you feel his prick against your soaked entrance. You’ve never been so wet- never so wound up- so desperate for sex-
You cry out when he enters you, a forceful thrust that buries him to the hilt in your twitching channel. He is big. Too big under different circumstances perhaps. He doesn’t give you time to adjust. He pounds into you, spearing you open, using his grip on your waist to bounce you on his cock in sync with each of his thrusts.
You cling to his shoulders, your nails drawing blood, fingertips running over old scars, exploring the surprisingly defined muscles of his lean stature.
Your breasts bounce, rubbing against his naked chest, his lips lay claim to yours, your face, your neck, your chest.
He stumbles, his left side giving in and you tumble to the ground. You’ve seen that happen before. The venom of you-know-who’s snake has left him with some permanent damage, not only the huge scar on his neck.
You don’t care.
You push him down to the ground, your hands on his chest and move your hips, lifting them, letting them slam back down, riding him. You throw your head back, your eyes closed, lips parted as his cock drags along your inner walls with delicious friction.
“So- so full-” You moan. Your breasts sway. Severus catches them, squeezing them with such pure delight on his usually reserved face. He twists your nipples between his fingers, revelling in the noises he coaxes from you.
“You could have had this so much sooner, idiot.” You hiss and grind down against him before lifting your hips up once again.
“Wha-?” His puzzled expression is almost cute.
“I’ve been trying to get you to ask me out for months!” As though to reinforce your discontent with his lack of romantic interest you pick up your pace. His head drops back into the flowers. The pale blue petals glow in his inky black hair.
“How was I supposed to know?” He asks, bucking up to meet your movement.
“I was flirting!”
“I thought you were acting especially stupid for some reason.”
“Arsehole!” You dig your nails into his chest but Severus seems to like that. His eyes squeeze shut, his lips part, pleasure drawn into every wrinkle of his face.
“Why didn’t you just ask me out?”
“Would you have said yes?”
“I’d have called you stupid. Perhaps laughed at you. Slip poison in your tea.”
“I hate you.”
“I don’t think you do.” 
Quicker than you can follow his movements you’re underneath him and your legs on his shoulders. Your head is still spinning when Severus starts pounding into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the clearing, accompanied by your and Severus' animalistic, feral sounds of pleasure.
“I don’t-” You moan and dig your fingers into the dry soil underneath you.
“I know.”
“You’re supposed to say me neither.”
“I do whatever the fuck I want, sweetheart.”
“Shut up.”
“No.”
His balls slap against your arse. His hand drops between your bodies, his fingers find your clit, run over it once- twice-
You see stars. Dots of light exploding all over your field of vision and pulling you into darkness, bringing the complex system keeping your body alive and moving to an abrupt stop. Your lungs refuse to fill with air, your brain crashes, your limbs tense, your whole body forced into a contortion made of carnal desire and the world-ending pleasure Severus Snape brings you.
You twitch. Then you inhale sharply, filling your lungs with air, shuddering, whimpering under Severus who spills inside you with an ear-splitting grunt and then slumps down above you. On top of you. Your legs found the ground somehow. His cock still inside you, throbbing, slowly softening, you lay in the dirt like a starfish, feeling dizzy, overwhelmed and confused.
“Friday.” Severus murmurs, his lips brushing over your cheek as he speaks. “Dinner. Be ready on time or I’ll leave without you.”
“Mh?” 
“You really are dense." He grumbles. "Your date, stupid girl. Friday.”
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1K notes · View notes
remiratboi · 22 days
Text
Part 7! Sorry it took so long! It’s my partners bday week and we’ve been busy with that and work and also I wrote way more than I meant to
 it is officially nsfw. (Ps the next few days are really busy with work and another thing this weekend so I’ll do my best to get the next part out!)
First | Previous
“Let me love you.” Ollies plea rang through your head. He was so close. Too close.
“Let me make you feel good, love.” He said. He pushed his knee between your legs, parting them. You gasped and wiggled but he held you firm between his hand on your waist and his arm bracing the door by your head.
You didn’t know what to do. You could scream. Somehow that felt like the wrong thing to do. You knew you weren’t thinking straight. You could feel your cunt throb against his leg.
“I want to show you how well I know you.” He nuzzled into your neck, nipping at your soft flesh. You couldn’t help the half sob, half moan that ripped from your chest. “I want to show you how well I can take of you, baby.” He plead with you. He raised his knee and ground into your clit through your clothes. You moaned and tried pushing him away. He didn’t budge.
“Please, Ollie, don’t-” you tried to beg him to let you go. Just as you started talking he reached up under your shirts and rolled his thumb over your nipple. You choked on your words.
“I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.” He whispered into your neck. “But I thought you’d never look at me that way. Until yesterday.” He squeezed the nipple he was rolling. Your back arched instinctively and you pushed yourself into his body. He groaned.
“Everything about you is so expressive.” He practically growled. The words flowed like they’d never been stopped up before. “I used to imagine you were singing. The melody of your voice. I would play beautiful instruments in my mind worthy of keeping up with you.”
He ran his lips up your neck to your jawline. You felt him tremble slightly. He didn’t kiss you there. He just lingered. “I wished a thousand times I could talk to you. That I could open my mouth and words even half as clever as yours could fall out.”
He pulled back and looked you in the eyes. You were still pressed against him, your pussy was resting, and throbbing on his leg. His thumb rolled your nipple slowly while he spoke.
“But you didn’t force me to talk. You were ok to let me be silent. I never got to thank you for that.” You saw a pain flash through his eyes. He didn’t break eye contact and you found yourself unable to. You were surprised when your own heart throbbed at his pain. “You were
 are the only person in my entire life to accept me as I am, no expectations.”
He kissed you. It was soft, warm, but just like everything else, desperate. You didn’t move for a moment. You didn’t know what to do. He kissed you harder, and you felt his anxiety rise. The panic that you weren’t going to kiss him back. You felt how badly he wanted you to kiss him back.
And then you realized, you wanted to. You wanted to kiss him. Not like this, but you did. Some where along the lines, you’d developed feelings for this huge, stupid hot, and completely crazy man. You knew it was dangerous. The fear chilled you. But the desire warmed you right back up.
Suddenly you were kissing him back. Your hands were in his hair, on his neck, his shoulders. He leaned in even further, crushing you against his chest. His other hand came down to your neck and gripped you tightly. The hand on your chest explored further, touching all of you. Just as quickly as it started, it became overwhelming.
“Ollie, stop, not like this.” You said in between kisses. You tried pushing him back again. He growled again, but this time it was frustrated, feral.
“Stop pushing me away.” His words were heavy with warning. “You want this, me. I know you do. Just let me show you how good i can be. How i can make you feel.” He spun you around faster than you could react. He pressed you against the door, his hard cock pressing into your lower back. He twisted one of your arms behind your back and held you there. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you wont give me a chance.” His other hand snaked back under your shirt and pinched your nippled, hard. You gasped. “I know you’ll love it, eventually.”
Tears started to spill from your eyes silently. You didn’t fight back. You knew there was no point. He was so much bigger and stronger than you. It was more than just that though. For some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to. If he was telling the truth, he knew exactly what kind of things you liked. You knew how wet your pussy was already. Being taken against your will was probably your number one fantasy.
BUT IT IS JUST A FANTASY
You shouted inside your mind. You should be screaming. Fighting, kicking, anything! And yet, as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, all you could do was think about how hot that was. He threw you around like you weighed nothing. And he wanted you, so badly. You had never been desired like this before. Not to these extremes.
He threw you down on his huge, orc sized bed. It was reinforced with a thick wood frame. You instinctively curled into the fetal position. The tears hadn’t stopped, even if you didn’t really feel that sad. You were in a strange state of disconnection. On one hand you logically understood how wrong this all was. How dangerous this was. What he was about to do to you. But emotionally, you couldn’t care less. You were dripping wet, and the way he felt about you gave you butterflies. The way he talked about you and his feelings for you, made you feel valuable. It wasn’t something you had experienced much in your life. What he had said about you being the only one to accept him, rang in your mind. Was he that for you? Could you accept what he was about to do to you because he was the only person you had never been too much for?
You could give him permission, you thought. Then at least it wouldn’t be r*pe. But a part of you knew no matter what happened, it still would be. And another, quieter, more insidious part knew you’d rather it be forced. To finally fulfill that deepest darkest fantasy.
Ollie stood over your curled body on his bed. “You’re so beautiful.” He muttered. He didn’t seem to be speaking to you, but about you. It made you blush regardless. What was wrong with you? He bent down and tried to pry your limbs apart. You held to yourself tightly.
“Don’t make me hurt you. I don’t want to, but you need to listen to me.” The warning had returned to his words. You didn’t relax your position, but when he tried again to move your body, you allowed it this time. “Good pet.” He purred, satisfaction lacing his voice. Your cunt throbbed at his words. He slowly raised you up to a sitting position.
“Take off your shirt, love.” He said softly, but with intent. You found yourself staring into his eyes while you crossed your arms across your chest to reach for the hem on either side. You paused. He nodded once, and you slowly pulled both shirts up and over your head. His breath caught as your chest was revealed. You were surprised to find he hadn’t stoped looking into your eyes, and after the shirt was past your face, your gazes caught again. You blushed and squirmed under his intense eye contact. Instinctively, you lifted your arms to cover your chest. He raised one eyebrow in a disapproving way and you froze. He reached out and gripped both of your forearms.
“If you can’t keep your arms down, I’m going to have to restrain them. This is your only warning.” You lowered them and he smiled. Your heart thudded in your chest, his approval suddenly the most important thing. He moved forward, kneeling with one knee in between your legs. He pushed you gently until you were lying on your back on the bed.
Ollie lifted one of your legs, and started tugging at the hem of your sweats. it suddenly became too much again and you bolted back up. Your hands gripped his on the cuff of your pants. “Wait,” you panicked.
Ollie sighed. “I warned you.” You didn’t understand for a moment, until he reached by the beds headboard and pulled an already attached silk tie out. One end was tied to the frame. He quickly grabbed your right hand and started tieing it tightly to the headboard. Now the panic really set in. It was too real. You started crying in earnest, blabbering and begging. You weren’t coherent. Even you didn’t know what you were saying.
It was too late.
With one hand tied, he snatched the other and repeated. You pulled and wiggled, but he clearly knew what he was doing. The ties were soft, and not tight enough to hurt, but the knots themselves were solid. He returned to slowly removing your pants.
“Please Ollie, it’s not too late, you can stop still.” You pleaded. You honestly didn’t know if you meant it or not.
“Baby, you know I can’t stop.” He replied in a patronizing voice. “I need you, don’t you understand that?” He pulled the sweatpants fully off, and you were left in only your little shorts that were basically underwear. The cold air answered the reality you had been dreading. You were soaked. Your shorts definitely had a wet spot. And if you somehow hadn’t been sure already, the look of pure, animalistic satisfaction that spread over Ollies face, solidified it.
“I knew you’d like it.” He said smugly. “I told you, i know what you like.” He leaned forward, knee in between your legs again. He brought his face next you yours and whispered in your ear. ‘I know you’re a desperate slut, just begging to be fucked into oblivion.” He placed his huge palm against your clothed cunt. The heat was tangible. “Luckily for you, I’m happy to oblige.” He teased. His voice cavalier and excited. It was like he couldn’t understand how far past ok he had gone. He raised his hand from your cunt and brought it back down in a swift, hard smack. You cried out, not able to stifle yourself. It devolved into a long drawn out moan. “You can’t lie to me, beautiful.”
He turned and kissed you, hard, frantically. His hands roamed over your body. He ground his knee up into your clit again. Your breath hitched as you tried desperately not to moan again. He pulled himself away and looked down at your still clothed pussy. He looked mesmerized.
Ollie slowly hooked his fingers in the waistband and tugged down. You pushed your ass into the bed, trying to keep the shorts from pulling down. He glanced up at you, a look of impatience on his face. “Lift.” He demanded. You relented. The shorts peeled from your skin, highlighting just how wet you were. You squirmed in embarrassment both from the exposure and the fact you were dripping. He folded the shorts and tucked them into his pants pocket. You didn’t miss that he had tossed all of your other clothes.
He leaned forward, hand reaching for you, but you started wiggling violently, trying to close your legs. “Wait, wait, Ollie, no you need-” He stopped and smacked your inner thigh, hard. You cried out, the tears redoubling. You pulled at your restraints and tried to push your legs from their positions on either side of him. He held them down.
“Do you need me to tie your legs up too?” He said condescendingly. You cried, not answering. “Hmm? And maybe a gag too?” He started leaning back, reaching for something behind him.
“No no no no, Ollie, that’s not what i mean, stop, just listen to me a second.” You begged. You sighed with relief when he paused and looked back at you.
“It’s just...” You started, then suddenly felt shy. He waited. “It’s just, you can’t touch me
 yet.” He cocked his head, clearly perplexed. You wished you could hide your face. “You can’t.. I can’t
” He held your eyes, not giving you an out. “I can’t be the only one naked.” You spat out finally.
You don’t think you could ever describe the look that crossed his face then. You understood you were basically giving him permission now. And you were no longer fighting it in any way but for show. He had you, and he knew it. Thankfully, he didn’t rub it in your face.
Ollie leaned back up, until he was resting on his own legs, bent and still in between your open thighs. He smirked as he pulled his shirt up and over his head. You’d see him shirtless many times. It was a campground with a beach after all. But this time, with the settings, the circumstances, it was much more intense. The daylight filtered in through a window, and no other lights were on. Thin curtains stopped anyone from seeing inside, but did little for the light. He was muscular and toned, the light rays almost illuminating him. He was beautiful, and not overly ripped, but clearly did a lot of physical work.
The green of his skin was slightly paler than on his arms, but was replaced with a surprising amount of freckles. You hadn’t really noticed them before, but now that he was so close and you were hyper aware of everything, you saw how his skin was covered with tiny, barely visible freckles.
He started undoing the buttons on his pants. His cock was visibly hard through them. Your breath caught. You squirmed at the idea of being utterly taken by him. He hooked his thumbs under the hem of both his pants and boxers. He leaned up as if to pull them down, but stopped and raised and eyebrow.
“What do you want?” He asked, his voice leaving no room for defiance.
“Wh
 what?” You asked.
“What do you want?” He asked again, enunciating each word.
“I
” you couldn’t believe he was making you say it. “I want you to take off your clothes.” You said, finally. “Please.”
He sighed hearing that, and continued pulling them down. His hard dick sprang out and it was huge just like everything else about him. You were halfway between excited and terrified. You didn’t think it would fit.
“Don’t worry love” he said, reading your expression. “We will get you nice and ready first.” He leaned over your body, his chest pressing onto yours. His dick rested against your thigh. He leaned in to your ear and whispered “and I’m not going to fuck you until you ask me to.”
He sunk two fingers deep into your cunt with no warning.
Again sorry it took so long, hope you like it! :)
(Also don’t worry, sweet, shy Ollie will return!)
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reiniesainyo · 7 months
Text
IN BETWEEN. charlie bushnell x reader – 03
03 | ENCHANTED previous | next | masterfile
SYNPOSIS. when a girl's co-star is good to her and now she wants it more than everything in between. (smau)
A/N. i'm going through a rough / stressful period and i find this series and writing it very therapeutic so here we are! this chapter takes place around episode 7 release, i'm not really inclined to write about the filming in between for some reason (unless you'd be interested)
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liked by walker.scobell, thelnarchives, and 262,287 others rickriordan With the release of the new PJO series on Disney+, I'm happy to announce that to celebrate I've partnered with some of your favorite authors and close friends of mine to present to you all a new look into the lives of our favorite demigods!
WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A HALF-BLOOD will go online for free this February 20, 2024!
Click the link in bio for more info! PS: A sneak peak from our writers on the other slides
thelnarchive ... WHAT THE??? i have to manifest a chapter for my girl, manifesting a chapter or more please or even just one mention ↳ iamcharliebushnell YOU DIDN'T KNOW EITHER?????
user1 HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT????
user2 1) more stories about characters and 2) WRITTEN BY OTHER AUTHORS???? WHO COULD BE IN THIS PROJECT ↳ user3 i'm manifesting a story about tahlia and jason as kids oh my god
iamcharliebushnell imagine releasing a whole anthology to celebrate? that's the best author right there
user4 ohhh we're eating so good
walker.scobell another book and there's still not enough percy jackson in this world keep it coming i love your work ↳ aryansimhadri Imo too much percy maybe some more grover ↳ leahsavajeffries wrong there should be more annabeth
dior.n.goodjohn the gc going wild with this news
🃏 @CHILDOFHECATE what are your guys guesses for the stories in what it means to be a half-blood??? 🗹 32 comments 🔁 150 retweets ❀ 456 likes
user1 a jason and tahlia story about them as kids, just a delve into their childhood
user2 more stuff on luke and rina, as individuals and as a couples- like i totally see a luke perspective on some situations or a conversation they had being in the book ↳ CHILDOFHECATE honestly i think it'd be so cool if they went like contemporary and also gave us maybe a poem or transcript / screenplay of a conversation between luke and rina
user3 stories about annabeth, tahlia, and luke's time before camp maybe fighting monsters together or just trying to survive ↳ user4 watch me cry over this one
user5 i just see a lot of delving into the lives of the original trio and also like the original supporting characters to like tahlia, luke, rina, even rachel
user6 grover's childhood! i really wanna see that or some parts of the story from his perspective
user7 Angst.
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liked by iamcharliebushnell, aryansimhadri, and 320,372 others thelnarchives celebrating with the half-bloods
iamcharliebushnell when you're so excited over new lore you go and have dinner to talk about it ↳ thelnarchives this means so much to us
user1 YN IN THE SECOND SLIDE OH SHE'S GOREGOUS
user2 her face card never declines ↳ user3 it even has like benefits and a perfect credit score
dior.n.goodjohn fans first cast second ↳ thelnarchives this show has more more dressed up than my wedding
user4 this cast is so cute it's crazy
walker.scobell the 3rd pic >>> ↳ iamcharliebushnell oh so true ↳ i.am.andrew.alvarez a banger photo ↳ thelnarchives phone hijackers.
user5 the little black dress is doing so good for her, if i saw her in public i would've fainted ↳ user6 i can't believe i live in the same city as this girl like we breathe the same air???
leahsavajeffries i'm sat for the release, we're sat ↳ thelnarchives this is MY superbowl
aryansimhadri i feel excluded out of the 3rd photo ↳ thelnarchives that's okay because you're one of the girls ↳ iamcharliebushnell wait that's not fair
user7 aryan being part of the girls is so real and charlie wanting in is so cute
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sunny44 · 1 year
Text
You shouldn’t let her go
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton!girlfriend reader x Max Verstappen!ex-girlfriend reader
Warnings: stupid Max, pregnancy
Summary: Max left his fiancée after years of relationship because he felt he couldn't stand being tied to someone anymore so after almost two years she shows up in the paddock with Lewis and he realizes he shouldn't have let her go.
Ps: just to make it clear, I am not in favor of the rivalry that is imposed on Lewis and Max, I know they are not friends but the reality does not match my stories, this is fiction so don't take it personally.
Next Chapter
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When he decided that our relationship should end I thought he was joking.
For days and weeks I couldn't believe that this was real, but my mind was made up as soon as I saw pictures of him on the internet with women in parties.
It was then that I realized that our engagement was over.
I don't think I have ever suffered so much in my life, I never thought that I would be isolated for months.
I suffered so much that I started to stop eating, in the beginning I ate very little but as the days went by I decreased until I almost stopped completely but luckily my mother saved me from being at the bottom of the pit.
The first months were difficult, I had been used to our own routine for years and having to leave it suddenly was extremely difficult, in fact I was torn out of that routine.
I had to leave where I had lived for years since the apartment was his, I had to learn to take care of my place by myself since now there was no one else for me to share my tasks with.
But 5 months later I met someone, someone who made me have those feelings again, the feelings that I thought after Max I would never have again.
I already knew who he was and he also knew who I was but the fact that he was Max's enemy but leads meant that we never really talked.
Lewis and I had been dating for almost 9 months when he ask me to be his girlfriend and I remember being extremely happy that he was taking our relationship as seriously as I was.
And since that day we have been together and today would be the first time I could be in a formula one paddock since Max and I broke up.
Today was the Dutch GP and Lewis and I were on our way to the paddock, him and I had agreed early on in the relationship that we would only go public when we were comfortable letting the world know about us. I know how well this world works, if you don't do something people judge you and if you do something they judge you anyways.
And I knew what the fans would say that I was a hustler who only dates drivers and that since I got dumped by one I went after another.
But they don't know the half of it because the part where I suffered they don't care because one of the most coveted pilots became single so they can go after him and try their luck and some of them really do.
Most of them are like that, they go from city to city in nightclubs chasing silly girls who are willing to have their one minute of fame for being able to say that they fuck a formula 1 driver, but in the end this is nothing because in years of relationship he can forget you in one day so how long does it take for them to forget a simple fuck?
When we arrived in the paddock I could already feel my nervousness and so could Lewis, he knew I was afraid to come but not because I was here again or even because I had to see him.
But because of the fact that I would be judged for dating a driver who doesn't get along well with my ex for clear reasons.
But I'm already expecting that his fans don't like me.
"Are you okay?" He asks looking at me but I don't answer and just stare at nothing. "Hey, baby."
"Yeah?" I asked looking at him.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Again he asks and I don't answer. "I'm not sure we picked the right GP to do this."
"In this situation there is no right GP. But I think we picked the worst one." I say and he laughs. "Look they are going to hate me anyway with us showing up together today or in the next race so let's just get over with."
"That's the way to talk." He says cheerfully and we get out of the car.
When we got out of the car and were getting in it seemed like the world had stopped around the two of us, the flashes and noises of the cameras, the movement was so big that even some of the drivers that were scattered around looked and were surprised at what they were seeing.
Halfway there I felt Lewis taking my hand and intertwining our fingers and confirming what people were thinking.
We walked to the Mercedes garage and before we entered I could see him standing in front of the Red Bull garage with some people from the team talking to him but Max was more focused on me than on them.
When we got inside I went to say hello to the people from the team, some faces were already known but most I didn't know who they were.
"We have an unexpected visitor." I hear a voice behind me and I recognized it right away by the accent.
"Hi Toto, how are you?"
"Fine and you?"
"I'm great taking all the attention."
"It's almost as if Beyoncé is walking into the paddock."
"I felt like her." He laughs.
"I'm going to go change and be right back okay?" Lewis says and I nodded and he gave me a kiss before heading to his room.
"I'm going to get some coffee, will you let him know for me?" Toto agrees and I leave to get a cup of coffee.
Which I shouldn't have done if I knew Max would find me and come after me.
"Hi."
"Hi Max."
"Good to see you, you look great."
"Thanks."
"And how are you?"
"Fine."
"I haven't heard from you anymore."
"You wouldn't have had to know, you made it very clear that you didn't want me in your life anymore the last time we saw each other."
"And that was the biggest mistake of my life.”
"That’s your problem now." I said walking past him but he held my arm. "Can you let go of me?"
"Are you really with him or was that whole scene just to make me jealous?"
"Pay close attention because I'm only going to tell you once, you broke up with me and it was you who broke my heart. You don't know what the hell my life was like after you dumped me, so don't come to me wanting to know about my life because I don't owe you anything.”
"I'm sorry I was an asshole and I deserve that you are angry with me but seriously you are dating him? You didn't even like him."
"YOU didn't even like him Max I've never even spoken to him to draw those conclusions. And you are rivals on the track but off the track you have no connection."
"So you're dating a guy who hates me? After everything we've been through?"
"And after everything we've been through you dumped me like that for no reason at all so it looks like we're even." He looks at me with anger and sadness at the same time. "And for your information yes I am dating him and it's been a long time, it's not something recent that happened just so I could make you jealous. So leave me alone."
I turned to leave and after a few steps I stopped and looked at him.
"Actually I do owe you something.” He looked at me. "I owe you a thank you for breaking my heart years ago because then I could meet a guy who really loves me and who sees a future with me unlike you who only saw me as a trophy that you dragged everywhere."
Having said that I actually left and went to get a coffee which would actually be a tea since I was avoiding drinking too much coffee.
After buying the tea and a donut that I couldn't resist when I saw it I went back to the Mercedes garage seeing a super worried Lewis.
"Oh my God, where were you? I was worried when I came back and didn't see you here."
"I asked Toto to tell you I was going to get something to drink."
"He had to go to a meeting and must have forgotten."
"I'm fine, don't worry."
"You look a little pale, is something wrong?" He asks, running his hand over my face and I know why I was pale but I wouldn’t tell him right before the race.
"I had a forced conversation with Max on the way over."
"What did he do? Did he hurt you?"
"He didn't hurt me he just wanted to know if we were really together or I was just using you to make him jealous. But I'm not." I hasten to say."
"I know don't worry about it, don't worry about him okay? He's not worth your time."
Lewis put his arms around my waist bringing me close to him and I held his face and kissed him until we were interrupted by the crew calling Lewis to get in the car because the race was about to start, he kissed me once more and went to the car.
I didn't remember how torturous and agonizing it was to have someone you love racing at over 300km/h, every time it seemed like someone was going to crash and I was scared to death that something was going to happen to Lewis but I knew that he was an excellent driver and had total control of what he was doing.
That was until he started to lose positions and that made me and the team worried because the car was the best of the weekend.
Max was first now and I could almost hear his laughter in my head and it really pissed me off.
"Y/n come here." I heard Toto calling me and Bono handing me a microphone.
"Why are you giving this to me?" I picked up the headset in confusion.
"He's nervous for some reason and we can't calm him down so try talking to him."
"Lewis can you hear me?" I ask after I put the headset on.
"Honey? What are you doing there?"
"You need to concentrate, what's going on?"
"I keep thinking about you and him, and it's distracting me. I'm afraid that after you talked today you might want to get back together with him.”
"Don't think about it, I love you and I'm never getting back with Max, understand? I couldn't even."
"Why couldn't you?"
"Because me and our baby love you and we are here rooting for you too."
"Our baby?" he asks without understanding.
"I'm pregnant babe."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes, I am."
"Are we having a baby?"
"Yes we are." I could hear him laughing with happiness. "So go get him."
Right then he sped up and sped up as if his life depended on it and on the last lap he passed Max and the whole garage celebrated, when he crossed the finish line we all went in front of the podium where I went running with the team and stood right in front, he jumped out of the car and celebrated and then came running towards me and kissed me, he pulled me through the fence hugging me even tighter. He bent down and kissed my belly making me laugh through my tears and the look on Max's face that came second didn't go unnoticed, I don't know if it was me but their eyes seemed to shine with the tears but at the moment I didn't care because my happiness was there with me celebrating his victory.
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Bonus scene!
Yourusername instagram post
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Liked by LewisHamilton, yourmom, mickshumacher, landonorris and others 82937
Yourusername After feeling lonely and unhappy for years I finally found someone who makes me feel like the most special woman in the world. I can't thank you enough for making me shine again and for making me a better person.
And now that our family is growing, I can only thank you for always being there for us, I love you so much.
Tagged: LewisHamilton
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theheianwife · 11 months
Text
I. Daggers to the Heart🗡
Cheater!Gojo X Reader
Angst, Lust & Violence
The reason why this fanfic exist.
Ps. I stopped coloring half way
𓇱 𓇱 𓇱 𓇱 𓇱 𓇱 𓇱 𓆾
You and Gojo have been in a relationship ever since you guys were 15. He met you at Jujutsu High being one of the Grade 1 Sorcerers who uses blood manipulation to copy a sorcerer's ability once you've intake their blood. You are very skilled in close combat using just a small but sharp jade dagger and Gojo just couldn't beat you at it. His only way of defense is his infinity that creates a shield like ability which is something you tease him being weak about.
But since Gojo was a special grade sorcerer with the Limitless, Six Eyes curse. It takes a lot of curse energy to use such power which is why Yaga never allows you to intake his blood and use the ability because it could kill you given your limited curse energy so Gojo teases you being weak for that.
Yaga decided to let the both of you practice physical combat alone in the field so Gojo could improve in close combat but the usual always happens where you dodge down his upper attacks, stretch a leg out swipping his legs off the ground causing Gojo falls on his back. You then sit on his stomach with the dagger on his neck.
"Weak. Ass. Legs."
You exhaled feeling tired after having to do combat with this guy for hours. Meanwhile Gojo enjoys losing because he started to grow a liking towards you throughout your practices together. He doesn't know if it's the sarcastic attitude that taunts him during practice or the killer instinct that kicks in when youre in combat mode or the sensual flow of your body when dodging his attacks but whatever it is, he couldn't supress his feelings anymore. He grabbed on your wrist close to his neck pulling the dagger to the side and leaned in to meet your lips.
But it wasn't a one sided crush though. You too were secretly flirting with him during your combats together. The moment you saw Satoru Gojo around the campus, you just couldn't keep your heart steady. The handsome smug special grade sorcerer of the Gojo clan was just super cute.
"and...What is this?"
The two of you broke the kiss hearing Memei's voice and got off each other. You both stand side by side looking at Mei Mei. And that's how everyone in Jujutsu High knew you guys were going to be in a relationship. Basically Mei Mei couldn't keep it to herself and kept gushing about you and Gojo's romantic teenage relationship to other students and teachers that ended up spreading through out the school.
Even the elders knew about it and we're very much against it but didn't have a say in the matter since it was the student's private lives.
Everything was going well with you and Gojo. You were each other's first love. It was Delicate, Protected and Sweet. Gojo would call you up to his missions with his team so he could flex how strong he was fighting off one bad guy while Geto handles the rest. Shoko would sometimes send you messages about girls staring at Gojo and approaching him that led to you feeling jealous and would have a sulky fight with your boyfriend. But your Gojo was too smug, sweet and honest that you couldn't stay mad at him for long.
But then tragedy struck, Geto decided to turn against being a sorcerer and left Jujutsu High which meant Gojo was losing his best friend. It was your boyfriend's depressing era where he couldn't smile anymore and cries in his sleep murmuring his best friends name.
Of course you understood what he was going through. You witnessed how deep and connected their relationship was and it didn't bother you the slightest because Geto always aimed for Gojo to be more humble and considering which is the exact opposite of what Geto turned out. This is also one of this times where you felt desperate to help your boyfriend that you had offered yourself to cheer him up. Even though you weren't ready to lose your purity, you did anyway. Anything for him to feel loved and happy again, and it worked.
Gojo was back on his feet, excited about this new path of your relationship and wanted to do it more than once in a day. He was happy again, he even gave you a promise ring where he said he'll marry you when he retires. He was also trying really hard to control his ability and expand his knowledge.
You were so happy and proud of your decision. You even let him have alone time so he could do his missions and even if it felt lonely, you had your team of three to hang out with. You even met another sorcerer out of that team who shift shapes into different animals. Her name was Yoko and she became the closest friend to you because of her fun personality and sense of humour. Everything was seemed to heal back to the way it was.
Until one day, Gojo comes back to the dorm in that familiar depressing mood. You asked him about what happened and he told you about Geto being labeled for execution after taking over the shaman role and forming an army against the humans. It surprised you and couldn't help but feel sad hearing that Geto is to be killed.
It was hard seeing Gojo back to his old depressing self. Even though this time he wasn't that depressed but seemed to be more in thought of what he was going to do about it and you tried your best to console and support him. As a long time girlfriend who had tried numerous ways to cheer him up but the methods doesn't seem to work anymore so you tried other things that makes you happy that might make him happy.
You introduced him to Yoko and the three of you would hang out going on arcades, malls and travel around Japan. Having Yoko around was the greatest idea ever because ever since she was here Gojo kept smiling and laughing a lot. He even told you that Yoko had a similar perosnality to Geto which made you feel very happy to hear because that means he can heal from that part of him as well. There would be times where the conversation wasn't relatable to you but you didn't mind it as long as Gojo was smiling again.
You sighed feeling tired from coming back to the convinience store. You plan on surprising Gojo with a couple of movies you brought from the DVD store and thought about having a movie date with just the two of you. Yoko is fun to have around but sometimes you crave for the intimacy of just the two of you.
You walked into the male dorm's and found that Gojo's room was open. Your brows furrowed wondering if he was home or forgot to lock it somehow. You felt more in favor for the surprise and quietly went in just to check if he really was out. And just as you entered a sound of whimper and something banging against the wall reached your ear. It sounded familiar like you've heard it before and it wasn't a good feeling to hearing it.
"Satoru~"
A familiar voice moaned and instantly your heart started racing. You could see the bed room door just at the side, it was slightly open. You peeked in seeing the movement of your boyfriend naked and pounding against something...or someone else judging by the leg over his arm. Your breathing started to rapid as you start hearing the both of them exchange moans.
"...yes...yes...cum to me."
Hearing that was the last straw and with your shaky hands you manage to push the door wid open and the scene had you drop everything you were holding.
Instantly Gojo stopped his activity and Yoko gasped pulling in the covers of the bed to cove her to naked body. You were staring at Gojo as tears started forming in your eyes not knowing how to react and was just full of hurt and pain...and you just couldn't describe how you felt by this betrayal. It felt so deep like your own dagger was stabbed against you. You remained standing their just...waiting for some miracle to happen not knowing what miracle it should be but...you wanted something to happen. Maybe an explanation? maybe have Gojo apologize? say he loves you and it's a mistake?
But no. You heard him scoff like he had no remorse. The bed creaked as he stood up from it and walked towards the door. Gojo stared at you waiting for a few curses or two but you were bleeding too much inside that you couldn't speak. Gojo without a word closes the door slowly. Your eyes moved from the last view inside the room seeing Yoko look back at you behind the blankets.
The door shuts feeling a bit of wind from it. You heard the bed creak once more and it just stirred your guts up feeling like you were gonna puke and had you run out the building. You instantly puke once you reach outside and started to quietly cry.
After a while the emotions started to subside but the memory remained. You were walking around the empty campus for hours not knowing where you were heading. You were too deep in thought about what your next move should be that you couldn't feel your legs hurting. Until you felt the need to stop and looking at your right was the building of the female dorms, an idea hits you.
Yoko was just heading back to the dorm feeling regretful yet satisfied that she finally got the chance to sleep with Gojo Satoru. She's been eyeing him for a while but you were always around so she didn't get the chance to show him how she felt until that afternoon. She also confirmed through Gojo's action that he also felt some sort of way for her and was glad that she got the courage to do it even if she was caught.
A bit distracted from her own thoughts Yoko heads into her room closing the door behind her with a small smile on her lips. While she was removing some of her clothing she suddenly felt like she was being watched.
Yoko looked around her room seeing nothing suspicious and that's when she looked behind her to see a form blending in the shadows and it lunges towards her slicing a part of her cheek.
Yoko gasped holding her wounded cheek as she moved back into the living room area where the light had shown the figure in her room.
"Y/N..."
At the mention of your name, it irritated you and rushed towards her wanting to wound her more. Yoko was small and quick to transform into anything just to avoid your attacks. But you, built with the rage you felt were stronger than before and was able to scratch her and stab her in different areas of her body causing blood to splatter over you.
"Y/N! Stop!"
She cried out but the sound of her voice just reminds you of her in Gojo's bedroom and continued to lunge at her feeling no remorse. Yoko in fear for her life, transforms into a rat desperately reaching for the door but you were quick to grab her disgusting rat body tossing her back into the room as she transform back into a human.
Yoko looked at you in fear. She knew she was no match for you. She was only Grade 4 and her body already felt weak using all her curse energy to dodge your attacks. She met your eyes who gave no emotion and was just full of anger.
You looked down at her like she was some practice dummy you're gonna stab through. To think you trusted this woman to be by your side and be part of your relationship. You scoffed remembering all the good ideas you claimed and aggressively pulled her hair back exposing her neck. You placed your sharp dagger on her skin while you placed your lips near her ear.
"I'm going to enjoy this..."
You whispered scraping the edge of your dagger on her neck when suddenly the window breaks and you felt a strong force pushing you to the wall. It was Gojo using his infinity to push you back from Yoko's body.
"That's enough Y/N..."
His presence irritated the fuck out of you and you carefully stood up scoffing.
"I guess prince charming's come in cheaters too."
Gojo made a protective stance over Yoko after noticing the dead look in your eyes. They were empty and soulless. He was to blame, he was at fault, he knows that he messed up and have hurt you deeply but he still couldn't understand why you became this cold blooded. To the point that you'd kill someone for your pain.
Seeing how your supposed boyfriend was protecting Yoko's wounded body behind his infinity just made you feel really ridiculous. You grinned whisking your dagger to the side removing the some of the blood that was on it and thinking of stabbing Gojo in the heart.
"Are you gonna fight me like a man or you're just gonna hide behind that little shield of yours?"
"I didn't come here to fight. I came here to stop you from violating the rules further. The elders will have you killed if you continue this."
You scoffed in annoyance. He was still thinking about the rules over the whole reason why you're doing this. You lifted your dagger near your face looking at a reflection of yourself seeing the bloody mess on your face.
"I'm gonna be punished anyway. After all the effort and sacrifices I made..." You smiled biting your lower lip as it slowly slips off from being bitten. "I'm still the one who got punished. The one who got hurt." You shifted your soulless eyes to Gojo. "The one who was betrayed...by the person who I did everything for."
Gojo's heart dropped but he couldn't apologize at the moment. He couldn't let his guard down because anytime you would strike Yoko and that would make everything worst for you. Soon footsteps can be heard running down the hallway and Gojo heard it too. He was relieved that help was coming, all he had to do now is to encourage you to put the your weapon down. He just knows he could save you out of the fault he had done. He was just so confident that he could encourage you.
"Y/N...we can fix this. Trust me, I won't let them hurt you. I just need you to put the dagger down."
You stared at him for a moment not even contemplating about the words he said and decided to walk towards him. Gojo took a few steps back feeling the unsurredering bloodlust character you were giving and tries to cover Yoko's wounded body getting ready for your blows.
"You couldn't fix anything. I...did everything."
You spat and headed to the broken window, jumping out.
"Y/N!!!"
Gojo calls out after you jumped out of a five story building.
You survived the fall under a couple of trees wounded in the process but you were okay and hid into the woods. You were able to escaped Jujutsu High and was now resting up on a large tree branch. You don't know where you were going and it would be dangerous to go to the city since people will report you for how bloody you looked plus, some sorcerers are civilians. And then an idea hits you.
"I hope he has room for one more."
You mumbled jumping off the tree branch and headed to Well Spring cult. It was just near the mountains and wasn't guarded by sorcerers but by shaman people. You barged in the entrance asking calmly for Suguru Geto but the people felt panicked in the sight of you and started running around like the monkeys the are so you decided to grab one of them.
"h-his in the main hall."
Says the shaman shaking in fear as he felt your dagger up his skin.
"Great, lead me to him."
You ordered pushing the knife into him and he immidiately starts walking.
Geto was casually sitting in a meditating position with a smile on his face. Once the large doors in front of him opened aggressively he instantly knew who it was by the presence of your curse energy. But he was still surprised after seeing your bloody get up.
"What a pleasure having you in my building , Y/N."
He still smiled giving off a welcoming aura but you can tell he was very alert judging by the sharpness of his eyes.
"It's a pleasure seeing you too."
You smiled and shooed the shaman you held captive.
"The place looks really great by the way, although the uniform is not working for me."
You teased walking in the hall and stopping at the middle. Geto chuckled as he carefully watch taking a few steps while worrying who's blood is at your hands.
"Everyone does think it is ridiculous but I personally like it. So what is your true purpose of being here? Have you come to kill me?"
He asked with his tone changed into something serious.
"Why would I do that?"
You smiled lifting up your dagger. Geto felt slightly threatened because he too was aware about your advance close combat. He prepares himself by summoning a couple of curse spirits behind him and around you.
You chuckled finding it humorous for a special grade to be afraid of you. You lifted up both of your hands and bowed like a ballet performer. Geto felt confused and glanced at the dagger you held. You noticed this and threw the dagger to the wall piercing a few of his cursed spirit in the process before it hits the wall and falling on the ground.
"What is it that you want?"
He asked sounding very serious.
"I was wondering if you have a spare room for a girl like me?"
You said with your head bowed facing the red carpet on the floor. Geto smirked at your request.
"And who said I would take you in just like that?"
You hummed standing up and made a thinking pose tapping your lips.
"I figured you could use a more useful body guard. Better than the once you have bleeding in your hallway."
You chuckled. Geto scoffs finding your psychotic behavior unsual. You were very much sane when he left so what caused you to be like this?
"Are those the only blood you spill?"
He asked feeling interested with what happened to you.
"Uhh no. I was aiming for a bitch today but some asshole decided to save her life."
You shrugged making Geto hum in interest.
"I'd like to hear more of this story if you plan on staying here."
You smiled widely while nodding.
"and a sprinkle of Jujutsu High updates would surely fill your cup of tea."
𓇱 𓇱 𓇱 𓇱 𓇱 𓇱 𓇱 𓆾
Mi Note ⚘
I wrote this one early because the feeling is fresh.
Update 2024: No mo part II. I'll let your imagination fly.
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Credits to the Artist!
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fayes-fics · 2 years
Text
Bella Notte
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: A moonlight lake swim with Benedict
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Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, innocence/corruption kink, first-time kissing, breast fondling, fingering, penis touching (i.e. first second and third base activities lol), romantic I guess?
Word Count: 2.9k
Authors Note: this is a very overdue fic request for my dear Emmy @iboopedyournose that she sent over DM many months ago. (Request: romantic moonlight swim with Benedict that leads to something steamy 😉😋). I don't know if there's enough romance here. I hope so. Also I’m sorry, I just wrote this now; I'm a bad friend. I hope you enjoy <3 (PS I almost subtitled this Innocence: underwater edition)
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It’s after midnight when you and Benedict secretly steal down to the water's edge at Aubrey Hall. This is your first time unchaperoned with your intended; even just meeting him in the dead of night in the hallway seemed thrilling. But when he suggests you go to the lake, your whole body shivers at the prospect—not only for the clandestine time alone but also for the chance to dip a toe into the cool water, such a tempting prospect after an unrelentingly stifling hot July day. 
The setting is stunning, the trees surrounding you a beautiful silhouette under a blanket of stars, the milky white waxing moon reflecting upon the mirror-smooth surface of the lake.
Benedict squeezes your hand and catches your eye.
“Shall we?” his buttery voice is such an alluring temptation you can’t resist.
“We shouldn’t
,” you demure.
“That, my dear fiancee, is not exactly a no,” he murmurs, releasing your hand to strip off his shirt, revealing a toned chest that makes you bite your cheek.
“You first,” you whisper, a light breeze ruffling the strands of hair around your face as you watch him raise an eyebrow and reach for the buttons on his britches.
“If you wish to remain innocent, avert your eyes,” he suggests playfully.
You inhale sharply and spin around to face the house, your cheeks aflame, but your eyes cut to the side, half hoping to catch a furtive glimpse of your husband-to-be’s naked body. You hear the rustle of clothing being shed and then the splash of water as he seems to throw himself in bodily. The moan he makes as he surfaces does things to your insides that you don't fully understand, steadfastly still facing away.
“You may turn around now,” he calls, bemused, “I am concealed by the water.”
You slowly spin around to see him standing upright and almost choke. The waterline hugs low on his hips. So dangerously low there is dark thatch of hair peaking above the surface. And above it, acres of toned, muscular, very male torso painted with water droplets. You know you are staring—you know you are probably slack-jawed. Your gaze eventually reaches his face, and it's sin personified. He knows exactly what he is doing to you, teasing you, his hair slicked back against his head, emphasising the handsome lines of his face.
“Are you coming in too, or is this merely a spectator’s sport for you?” he intones, that lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“You are so troublesome, Mr Bridgerton,” you murmur, trying to school your expression, but you just end up biting your lip, very much wishing for a fan as you feel your face heating.
“I promise nothing untoward,” he offers chivalrously, holding out a hand to beckon you in, “unless you want it,” the dusky addition makes your stomach flip.
He turns around and shoots you a sultry look over his shoulder before jumping up and diving back down into the water in a perfect fluid motion
. Giving you an eyeful of a very pert, very shapely, naked bottom as he does so.
“Dear god
” you exhale, looking skyward, knowing this will test your willpower, but somehow still drawn inexorably towards the water. After all, it has been such a HOT day; this will cool your body like nothing else.
As he swims away, you strip off your light silk robe to your white cotton nightgown and place a foot into the water.
The rocks under your toes are cool, smooth and slightly mossy. It feels heavenly. And so you wade in, the ground falling away fast, and by the time you are four paces from the edge, the water tickles against the apex of your thighs, and you sigh. The cold tamping, the fiery heat you feel there, mainly due to the man making his way back to you in a leisurely breaststroke, a smile on his face.
“So glad you decided to join me,” he lilts. “It's so refreshing, is it not?”
“Yes,” you sigh, moving deeper so the water is up around your waist, your nightdress starting to float up and away from your body. “Such a balm,” you add.
He hums in agreement and tips his head back, looking up at the moon.
“The moon shines bright. In such a night as this. When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, and they did make no noise, in such a night.” his delivery wistful.
“Shakespeare,” you breathe, your heart speeding up at the lyrical words he speaks from memory.
“Indeed,” he looks over at you, his eyes soft. “I enjoy nothing more than the truths he reveals so poetically. How he talks of beauty, nature, all the range of human emotions, and love,” he expands, moving closer, little waves of water buffering against your breast as he wades shallower and you deeper, drawn inescapably to him. 
He takes your hand from the surface and bends down slightly to kiss the back of it, his warm lips grazing your knuckles a contrast to the cool water dripping from your fingertips. Your breath catches in your throat at this simple move. You want to say something in response, but somehow all of your vocabulary seems inadequate, and you feel quite tongue-tied. 
“Come, swim with me,” he prompts softly, pulling you into the deeper water, and you let your feet float up from the ground. 
Your nightgown pooling in diaphanous layers around you, the cool water seeping into every crevice of your body, making you feel calm and soothed for the first time since this insatiable heatwave began. You start to move in a leisurely stroke keeping up with Benedict as he glances over and smiles at you encouragingly.
The moon, the sound of water moving gently over your limbs, the rustle of the trees and the trace of scent wafting from the nearby rose garden all make for a wonderous moment, and you roll onto your back, staring at the stars.
“Thank you for this,” you say quietly as you both slow, nearing the middle of the lake. 
“It is my pleasure,” he assures.
“It is very romantic,” you murmur, knowing your cheeks blush at your words. “The setting, I mean,” you quickly amend for some reason, somehow reticent to express romantic feelings.
“Not just the setting has to be romantic,” he offers, his voice low as he moves closer again.
You have to put your feet back onto the stony bottom to not feel unmoored by the tone and the sultry look in his eyes. The water is up to your neck almost.
“Benedict,” his name a sigh from your lips, even though you are unsure why you say it. A reflex, a call to him, a warning, even you do not know. All you feel is the heart beating wildly against your ribcage as he crowds into you.
“Y/n,” he purrs, and even in the water, you feel suddenly flushed. “Im going to kiss you,” he whispers, almost a warning, giving you a chance to move away.
Instead, you hold his molten gaze, equally excited and nervous about the prospect. Apart from a few chaste hand kisses, you have done nothing more in all your years on this earth.
“Okay
” you exhale shakily.
And then there is a large hand cupping your whole face, tilting you up to look at him. This close, he is so handsome, all cheekbones and strong jaw. You just freeze like a rabbit in the crosshairs. There is a warm gust of air over your nose as he breathes out, and then soft lips damp land on yours. 
Something fires in your chest like a gun, and your eyelids flutter shut. Then he is pressing harder, more insistent, moving his lips against yours. Unsure of what else to do or how to catalogue what is happening, you try to mirror his movements, pushing back with your closed lips up onto your tiptoes—a noise from deep within his body thrills every inch of your being. Arms band tight around your body, you are pulled against a solid warm chest, and your whole world explodes into fireworks behind your closed eyes. You can't help the gasp over his mouth, and his responding deep chuckle vibrates your entire being.
“Darling, I haven't even kissed you properly yet,” his tone dripping with bemusement as he speaks against your lips.
“What do you mean?” you stutter, trying to adjust to being in his strong embrace.
“Do you know what a true kiss feels like?” his question is so dark and smooth it hypnotises you.
“No,” you answer, breathing a little heavy.
“You are about to.”
His lips are back, and this time he opens his mouth, the hot wave of moisture, heat and taste taking you by surprise. His tongue rolls against your lips. You squeak, and on instinct, your mouth opens under his. Now it is massaging against yours, and there is a molten hot tingle between your legs. What on earth is he doing to you? You feel drunk, overwhelmed, just so much taste, sight, smell and just him. It seems apt you are in a lake seeing as you feel like you are drowning in him.
He breaks away slowly, and as you reopen your eyes, he smiles at you.
“How was that?” even you can detect the pride in his tone, knowing exactly how affected you are.
“Wonderful,” you respond honestly, and he beams at you.
And then he is kissing you again. The same passionate way. And then again. Over and over, your lips meet; minutes blur into each other. Exploring each other's mouths, his hand tender on your jaw.
“Would you like to know more?” There is no way you can resist that dark honeyed tone.
“Yes,” you sigh, desperate to understand what awaits you once you are married.
The hand around your jaw slips lower, fingers trailing over your neck as he holds your gaze. You can't look away, but your breath speeds up as that hand feels so heavy travels lower, fingers trailing your collarbone and then sinking lower, mapping your sternum as your chest rises and falls quicker than before. That crooked grin unfurls as he moves his hand to the right and cups your breast over your now translucent nightgown. You inhale sharply as your body responds, blood running hot. And then his fingertips trace over your nipple, and you moan lightly in your throat.
“Yes, darling,” it's gravelly, and his face is one of understanding for your plight and sheer carnal delight that he is the cause.
His other hand moves from around your waist, mapping your side until it mirrors the actions of his other hand on your other breast, and you practically swoon against him.
“Benedict,” you utter his name shakily, his smile turning predatory. 
“My darling wife-to-be, your body was made for me,” he murmurs. “Look how well your breasts fit into my hands.”
You bite your lip as you look down at the beguiling site of his huge hands holding your body; something ablaze inside you, liquid and volcanic. It makes you want to pull up and wrap your legs around his body, press him into the middle of your thighs, into that tugging ache.
“Show me more,” you plead, looking into his eyes, watching his pupils rapidly dilate and his tongue dart out to lick his bottom lip.
Then one of his hands moves to the buttons in the middle of your nightgown and flicks open a button. And then another. And another. And another. All the while, his fingers trace the slit of skin revealed down to your navel. His hands land on your shoulders, pushing the two sides of your nightgown apart and sliding it down over your arms. 
Under the water, you are now topless. Your skin breaks into goosebumps that have nothing to do with the water temperature but everything to do with the man in front of you.
Then you are wrenched back into his strong embrace and stunned into silence at the feel of his naked chest crushing yours—so solid, so smooth, your nipples pebbling so hard under his contours.
His lips find your neck, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands mapping the lithe tone, the play of muscle under your fingertips.
You can scarcely believe something this good is possible. You have heard married women talk of needing to submit to the will of their husband's desires. But if this is anything close to what they mean, you wholeheartedly disagree. You want to submit to him utterly. Completely. He can do this to you as much as he wants.
“I will,” he responds fiercely into your skin, and you realise you must have said your last thought aloud. “Darling, I will kiss and hold you and do so many wonderful things every day if you will allow me.” 
“You can do whatever you want to me, Benedict,” you vow.
His responding groan right into your ear makes every inch of your body tingle.
“Darling, my sweet, you have no idea what you are saying yet, but god, I hope that is true,” he sounds so fervent, so very overwrought.
“Are you distressed, Benedict?” you blurt out, pulling his face between your hands and looking into his eyes, worried about how agitated he seems.
“No, my love,” he reassures, “this is passion; this is need. I want to do so many many things with you. But we should not until we are married.”
“Are there not things we can do before we are married to help with your need?” so curious to know more.
He leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. “I can hold you, and we can touch in places, briefly
.” It sounds so taboo your blood runs hot.
“Where?” you breathe onto his cheeks.
“Between our legs,” he mutters back.
“I ache there,” you confess, “when you kiss me.”
He groans again and licks his lips; eyes still screwed shut. “That is wonderful news, my love. That is how it should be; it means you desire me as much as I desire you.”
“How will I know that you desire me?”
He grabs your wrist from around his neck and guides your hand slowly underwater. Then he presses your hand against something large, hard, and entirely unlike what you have between your legs. Your eyes go wide; your mouth falls open. Your hand on hot, steely flesh.
“That,” he rumbles, his eyes flaring open, stare piercing yours, “that is how you know I desire you, my love.”
“Wh.. what is that?” you gasp.
“That is my cock, and when we are married, it goes inside you,” he explains breathily as he presses your palm more forcefully into it, rocking his hips slightly.
“What? Where?” you are completely non-plussed.
He pulls your hand away and slides it between your legs, the layers of your nightgown billowing in a ring around your waist.
“Right here,” he intones softly, and you gasp as he pushes your middle finger up and into your body, his grip on your hand so tight.
“It won't fit,” you fret.
“It will,” he soothes, releasing your wrist, “look, it can take my finger and yours.” 
That is all the warning he gives before his long elegant digit plunges into your channel, flanking yours. You inhale staccato in shock and awe at the feeling.
“You are so very tight,” his voice at once reedy, “but I assure you, my love, I will fit. That is the marital act,” he adds, slowly withdrawing his fingers and yours.
“THAT is the marital act?!?” your mind still reeling from what has just transpired. “I have heard rumours that I must allow you to do things to me for ‘the marital act’. But... but I had no idea; I had heard it is unpleasant but short.” you frown, confused.
He huffs a laugh and grabs your jaw, pulling you against him so close his cock brands hot against your belly.
“It shall be neither, I assure you of that. You will demand, and receive, from me pleasure. At length.” Something in the way he says it stokes a fire inside you that cannot wait until that day. “But until then
” he sighs, pulling away, “we must resist further temptation, my love. As much as I want nothing more than to wrap your hand around my cock and push my fingers into your body, it is not fair to defile you as such yet.”
You pout at him as he reluctantly hauls your nightgown onto your shoulders beneath the surface. He has teased you with what awaits, and you are now hungry for more. 
But he kisses your lips chastely and turns back to look at the house. “We should probably swim back to shore and depart for our beds. Now that we are cooled down,” he adds with a wink.
“Speak for yourself,” you grouse uncharacteristically, refastening your buttons. “I may well be feeling more flushed now than I was before I stepped into the lake. No thanks to you.”
You have never shown your sassy side to Benedict before, always trying to play the demure fiancee your family has lectured you to be. But with everything that has happened, you feel unable to school your real personality from flaring out of you.
And the look he gives you is everything. It is desire, fascination and surprise all wrapped into one handsome raised eyebrow. You want to bathe in it.
“Oh, Mrs Bridgerton,” your upcoming name dripping syllable by decadent syllable from his lips, “such a sharp tongue. We will have plenty of fun putting that to very good use, I assure you.”
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Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84
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allastoredeer · 6 months
Note
Hello I had this dream last night and I need to share it with you!!!
We know the whole crew is invited to the Cannibal Cookout for the weekend.
So I imagine Al is gonna let cameras take pictures of him and Lucifer, that way the headline of his relationship with the king of hell will reach the seven pentagram faster(it was showed that he can take pictures when he wants to, since vox kept one). But that also mean he is gonna be exposed for the first time in probably forever. Like he is known for his terrifying radio podcast, which means that not many ppl know about his true form, especially new born sinners. So I can only imagine the surprise of those people to see the radio demon , the scariest overlord of them all, being a cute deer with a a fluffy tail and all the package that comes with it. Also Alastor mentioned to Lucy to ‘Wear your Sunday best.”, which might imply that he is gonna wear something nice as well

It would be hilarious if Half of hell will start simping for Alastor and downright ignoring Lucifer.
I can imagine the internet exploding with Alastor pictures and people going like 'aww his ears are moving’ or something, sinners go as far as make fan club about him, meanwhile a certain picture box is having a mental breakdown

~Valentino: “u know u can just say it that u want him”
~Vox: “Alright alright fuck yea I do and so Does half of hell. God damn it”
Meanwhile Angel reading through the chaos Alastor just unleashed
“oh he is so stealing my job already”
Lmao
OFC In all of this Al is completely oblivious about the situation he caused, so the crew tries to keep him out the flow, to not freak him out, which it’s not hard at all, since the dude doesn’t have a phone, but he does get a bit suspicious when Lucifer makes him wear something to cover his upper body, almost as far as making him wear an hat and glasses lol(I don’t see Lucifer as being who enjoys losing himself on new trends and gossip on the internet, so Angel probably showed him a innocent picture of them, but Lucy made the bad choice to go read through the comments. Nonetheless to say he was scarred for life, and decided to take it upon himself to protect Alastor’s privacy)
Also Alastor can probably sense when someone takes pictures of him, twitching his eyes and tail but otherwise leaves it be for the sake of maintaining the charade.
This was it ehehe, I kinda felt bad I woke up from that dream, I honestly wanted to know how it ended.
Either way I can’t wait to see how u are planning to go with it. Cause I just know u are gonna make me love every second of it😆👌
thank you for listening
Ps I wrote this at 5 in the morning a week ago, and I am not sure if I already sent it to u or my mind is playing tricks to me
so I am sorry if u already got the message.
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Heheheheh I love this! You have the BEST dreams. I'm so in love with most of Hell not knowing Alastor, or not really remembering what he looked like, since he's been gone (and Hell is expanding by the thousands every day, so of course there would be people who don't know him).
And so they see him for the first time and it's such a stark difference to what they were expecting XD He's developing a fan-base and Lucifer has to scare them all of (otherwise Alastor WILL murder. He will).
And no worries! I did get the ask from earlier! Sometimes, if it takes me a long time to get to an ask, that's because I want to draw some doodles for it like the pics above ^.^
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kiss-me-cill-me · 7 months
Note
i’m not sure if anon has already requested a character for that song but if ur up for it CAN WE HAVE THAT SONG WITH JONATHAN CRANE. also i just listened to that song for the first time in like 3 years and got major deja vu lmao 😭
also ps i love u and ur writing !!!
This is related to another ask from an anon, requesting a fic based off of Katy Perry's song, The One That Got Away. I am so sorry to both of you that it's taken me forever to write this, but thank you for your patience and support <3
Now We Pay The Price | Pt. 1
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Summary: Life hasn't turned out exactly the way you wanted it to. Isolated and distraught as you watch time slip by while you sit, trapped in Arkham, your only wish is to recapture the way that things used to be.
Warnings: Angst, whump, sexual themes but no explicit smut, mental health themes, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of needles, mention of sedatives, unrequited love, established past romantic relationship, ambiguity
A/N: I hardly ever write angst, so please be gentle with me lol. But with the song inspo, I couldn't help but go in that direction. Slightly nervous to post this, but also happy that I've branched out from my comfort zone a bit!
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
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Lying on your stomach, feet in the air, you stretched the thin cotton sheets with your hand. Just enough to give them the tension you needed to glide a ballpoint pen over the fabric, scratching over and over the same mark to make it appear complete. This was far from the perfect medium for doodling - but sheets were what you had, and so they were what you used.
Even the pen was contraband. You knew you weren’t supposed to have it. What anyone thought you’d do with it
 honestly, you had no idea. As if you could use a pen for anything other than what you were wrapped up in doing now - carefully and determinedly drawing hearts.
You stopped to rest your head for a moment on the pitifully thin pillow. Across the room, blank white concrete stared back at you. Day in, day out. Endless. The same room with the same walls.
Picking up the pen again, you placed the tip right in between the lobes of one of the many hearts. Scratch, scratch, scratch. A messy, zig-zagging line bisected the doodle. 
Broken.
You sighed, and started to color a different heart, filling it with blue ink that didn’t seem very inclined to stick to the bed sheets. It was slow going. The deep azure tint reminded you of deoxygenated blood, like you would see in a textbook diagram. Once the heart was completely filled, you moved dutifully on to the next.
A rustling at your door made you jump. Quickly, you stuffed the pen under your pillow, and turned up the sheets to hide your drawings. It wouldn’t be very good for you if anybody saw them.
You sat up, arranging your rumpled jumpsuit as neatly as you could. Leather straps hung off the sides of your bed, and you spared them a glance, bristling at the memories of having them lashed over your body. 
The metal door slid open slowly, until you could finally see

Him. Your heart skipped a beat and a half as he stepped stiffly into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t make a show of locking it, but it was still all too hard to miss the way his hand stopped short at the keyhole, before slipping into his pocket.
“Jonathan. I’m so glad-”
“Don’t call me that,” he bristled. “In here, we don’t know each other. Please. You always forget that.”
“...Dr. Crane,” you corrected yourself. 
His tone was so bitter that you could feel it in the very back of your throat, trying to claw its way down to your heart. You swallowed, trying to bite back the taste.
“I’m sorry. I was just happy to see you.” You smiled, pushing through your discomfort, for his sake.
Crane was clearly agitated. He took a few steps into the room, before turning around and facing the door. For one brief moment, you couldn’t see his face, until finally he turned back. His eyes were ice as they stared down at you.
“Do you have any idea how difficult you’ve been making things for me?” he spat. 
The accusation hurt, of course. Though you knew very well what he meant. You had been acting out, more than usual, as of late. And although it wasn’t without a purpose, you could see that it was wearing him thin. But
 how else were you supposed to see each other? 
Arkham Asylum wasn’t exactly known for its model patients. It took a lot to get Dr. Crane’s attention.
“If we spent more time together, I wouldn’t be so difficult,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even.
Crane pinched the bridge of his nose, in that way that you were well acquainted with. He’d always had that habit. Back when you’d first met, you had loved making him get frustrated - just enough for a laugh. Some things never changed.
“You’re really backing me into a corner,” Crane sighed. “And I really wish you wouldn’t.”
“Let’s talk,” you offered, patting the bed. “That’s what you’re here for, right?”
Crane, reluctantly, sat down. You could sense his exhaustion in the way that he almost collapsed onto the bed, hands gripping the edge for support. You inched a bit closer, enough so that your knees touched briefly. Crane pulled away.
You wanted to reach out; put a hand on his shoulder, just like you’d done so many times before. He used to like it when you touched him. Sometimes, you liked to think that yours was the only gentle embrace that he had ever known. Maybe it was silly, but the thought of it always made you feel better.
Now, Crane’s eyes held nothing but menace as he glared over at you, as if you were a stain on the bed sheets. You wondered, vaguely, what had happened to change things.
So much. So much that had led you to this place, where you could be so close to him and yet felt more separated than ever.
“I hate to say it, Doc, but I think I’m going crazy in here,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
He barely had a reaction; a deep sigh the only hint that he’d heard what you said at all.
“And why do you think that is?” he asked, finally. 
The psychiatrist in him always came through to shove even more distance between you. Like a shield, put up just when you’d started to press through the fog of tension that hung heavy in the room. You swallowed your frustration at being kept out, and tried to answer him honestly.
“Because I barely get to see you,” you replied.
That was the wrong answer, and Crane’s shoulders swung abruptly to face you. 
He was scary like this. Almost scary, anyway. If you didn’t know him better, the look in his eyes would have sent you cowering. 
But you did know him, so well, and you remembered with sudden clarity that he’d always been bothered by feeling inadequate. You felt awful; you hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t doing enough.
“I’m sorry,” you soothed, before he could say anything. “I know that you’re busy, but-”
“But you continue to make yourself into a problem,” he hissed. “You know the only reason you’re in here instead of rotting away over at Blackgate is because of me, right?”
You nodded, too shocked by embarrassment to speak.
“Then for my sake, why don’t you act like it?”
“I’m
” You paused for a moment, sharp tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m just
 lost without you,” you whispered. “You know that. I always told you I would be.”
The first tear fell, and you tried to hide your face.
“Don’t cry,” Crane sighed.
You could hear the harsh tinge of annoyance in his voice, and wished that it was anything else. Even his pity would have been better than knowing that your feelings were now nothing but inconvenience. You choked on your own throat, trying to stifle a sob.
“Please don’t cry,” he mumbled, slightly softer this time.
But now that you’d started, you couldn’t make yourself stop. If anything, the tears were only coming faster, and you felt yourself start to shrink into your own chest. The little black pit that always seemed to sit there, now swiftly opening up to swallow you.
With a deep and lingering exhale, Crane pulled you close. Suddenly, you were back where you both had been, so many years ago: one person’s cheek pressed into the other’s shoulder. Tears soaking into fabric that seemed to be stained with sadness. You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and nestled into the crook of his neck.
“Remember when I used to do this for you?”
Crane stiffened slightly beside you.
“Things have changed since then,” he muttered. 
Your memory suddenly flashed back to the first time he had used the words “dysfunctional attachment” to describe you. That had hurt worse than anything else. Even more than all of the other occasions to come, when you’d heard those same words and worse fall from his lips. They could never truly compare to that first time, when your whole world had come crashing abruptly to the ground.
His arm dropped away from you, but you kept your face pressed into his shoulder.
“Things haven’t really changed,” you said. “I still belong to you.”
“You don’t.”
Two words that stung worse than hundreds of needles. You tried to pretend that the wind hadn’t been knocked out of you, as you replied.
“I do. And I will. Always.”
You looked up at him with wet eyes, a trace of the old life that you’d shared together still evident deep within your pupils. Even if only the memories of it lived inside of you, they still lived. They were still something.
“You need to move on,” Crane said flatly. “I know it’s not easy in here, with me
” He sighed. “I did what I could to protect you, but maybe it would have been better if I had just stayed out of your case. Blackgate would have at least given you distance.”
“I don’t want distance,” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”
“You can’t be.”
Always so stubborn.
“I could be, if you’d help me get out.”
Confusion flashed across Crane’s face, quickly replaced with raw terror. 
“Escape Arkham?” His eyebrows furrowed, nearly knitting together. “You can’t be serious. Do you even realize what-?”
“I know, I know,” you hummed. “But just think - we could run away together, just like we always talked about.”
“Stop.”
“Don’t you remember? We promised-”
“Things. Change.” Crane’s voice almost shook as it thundered.
You brought a hand up to his face, gently coaxing until he looked at you.
“But they don’t have to,” you breathed. 
Your eyes drifted down to your wrist, to the space just below your thumb, and over the little tattoo that was etched into your skin. A heart - just like the ones littering your blanket, hidden carefully from Crane’s view.
“Remember when you gave me this?” you asked, holding up the tattoo in front of him.
“No; I remember you doing that to yourself.”
“At first, sure,” you chuckled. “But then, you helped me to finish it, ‘cause-”
“Because I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Crane muttered. “Just like you always seem to. Even now.”
You ignored his remark as your hands drifted down to collect one of his pale wrists, then lifted up to your face. The sleeve of his suit jacket slipped back, revealing the spot where once, long ago, you had given him the same mark. Just with a felt-tip pen; he would have never allowed you, even back then, to deface his own body in the same way you had yours. 
At the time, the impermanence of it hadn’t seemed to matter. You’d been too distracted; elated by the way that his and your matching blossoms of ink had pressed up against each other as you’d held hands. 
Now, you pressed a kiss to the blank space.
“Us against the world, Jonathan. Remember?”
Suddenly, his fingers pressed into your face, digging into the sides of your chin as he forced you back into focus.
“Don’t call me that,” he warned, once again. “How many times do I have to tell you? That life doesn’t exist in here.”
Your hands still dangled from his wrist as he continued to crush your jaw, not letting you look away. But this was the one part of him that you didn’t want to face. The part that didn’t need you anymore.
“Jonathan. You know the reason I’m in here, don’t you?”
“Are you asking if I know about your case? All of the crimes you committed?” he huffed. “Because yes - I was very involved in the trial, and it was nearly impossible to keep everyone else in the dark about
”
Us was the word that he couldn’t bring himself to say.
“That’s not what I mean,” you said. “I mean, do you know why I did those things?”
“Stop - please don’t tell me this again.”
“I did them for you,” you cried, your emotions getting the better of you again. “I do everything for you. So don’t you dare pretend you don’t need me, when really the only fucking reason you’re not stuck in here with me is because I always-”
“Stop.”
Crane’s hands tore away to grab you by the shoulders, wrenching you back to reality. Somehow he always managed to do that. To pull you straight out of the riptide, just as it was about to sweep you away.
“I never asked you to do what you did,” he hissed, articulating each word between clenched teeth.
“But I did it anyway,” you spat. “Because you always get into trouble. Because I told you I’d be there for you, no matter what. And because I always keep promises.”
“I don’t need you to anymore.” Crane’s hands squeezed you uncomfortably. “I don’t - I didn’t need you to ruin your life for me.”
“My life isn’t ruined if it’s for you.”
“Jesus Christ
”
Crane’s hand came up to rake through his hair, but before he could pull away fully, you caught him. Fingers clenched tight to the front of his suit, you pulled back and forced him to fall with you. Your back hit the bed, and Crane scrambled to catch himself before his full weight could slam into you. His body perched just above yours, caging you in his arms.
“This. You must remember this.” 
Your words were a whisper, barely loud enough to pass from your lips to his ear, despite how close he was. Your legs frantically came up to tug at his waist, trying to force him closer.
“This was the only time I felt alive,” you continued. “When we were like this. You remember.”
How could he not? You could still live in that moment, if you tried hard enough. As if it had been only yesterday. Both of you nervous and fumbling, nearly falling off of the bed as he hovered over you and you clung to him. 
The way that your bodies had melted together, almost desperately, in a way that had made you feel certain that neither one of you would let go. Letting go then had meant something worse than death; it meant a life that dragged on without you and him together. 
The stale echoes of passion still rang in your ears as you looked up, silently begging for him to rekindle the spark that had been there.
Crane’s expression was all but impossible to read. His face half-hidden beneath bangs that fell into his eyes. The two-second pause was like a lifetime as you awaited his answer.
“Of course I remember.”
Your heart soared, flying recklessly up.
“But that doesn’t mean it’s the same now.”
Broken. Smashed hard against the cold floor of your cell.
“I don’t believe that,” you breathed. “I can’t. I-”
“You need to,” he interrupted. “Because it’s the truth.”
You stayed stock still on the mattress as Crane briskly pushed himself up, disentangling himself from your limbs. He exhaled as he tugged at his jacket, trying to make himself presentable. 
You weren’t sure how he could find the nerve, after ripping your whole world apart.
“I’m upping the dose on your sedatives,” he informed you, still not meeting your gaze. “But I would prefer if you could find it within yourself to behave so that I don’t have to. I don’t like to do this, but-”
“Appearances
” Your voice drifted through the room. “Have to be kept up.”
He had told you as much, probably dozens of times. Just like he’d told you the old life between you no longer mattered, or even existed. If it ever had.
“I’m glad you understand,” he said shortly. 
His back was already turned, but you looked up to watch him drift out of the room, quickly pocketing the keys on his way out. 
Your head fell back, hard, but the sensation did nothing to ground you. You felt all too lost and adrift; trapped in a situation you had created. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end up.
Your hand drifted silently under the pillow, and wrapped around the barrel of the pen that was still hidden there. 
Suddenly, grotesque understanding of all the reasons why no one would want you to have such a thing flooded into your consciousness. The possibilities were many and bleak, but they all led back to the same conclusion. It was just like you had told Crane earlier.
If your life together didn’t exist in this place, then the only solution was to leave. 
You smiled. With resolve swirling dangerously inside your veins, you vowed to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. You were going to be together, no matter what. 
There would be no getting away.
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This fic now has a Part 2! Read it HERE
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