Tumgik
#the idea of him being like. i want i want i want and not knowing how to separate that from the hunger he's always had
bacchuschucklefuck · 3 days
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space sweepers but they're delivery people and are at no point on screen through the entire movie
#fantasy high#riz gukgak#kristen applebees#gorgug thistlespring#adaine abernant#fabian seacaster#figueroth faeth#the bad kids#half tempted to say these names are forum handles they use so much it pretty much became their professional names lol#I keep them teenagers bc its funnier that way#no real lore I just like drawing this. but I do think abt how theyre all weirdos too also bc thats funny to me#riz is a huge conspiracyhead who does everything by hands. he has a casio fx-570 in mint condition. nobody knows how he's maintaining it#he is nonetheless Really Good at his job. which somewhat tracks bc it's a job that requires keeping up with interstation conflicts#and new policies and an obsessive amount of planning. but he is Too Good at it. and also he dresses like that#kristen has the atomic engine that theoretically lets her unmake and remake matters with her mind. but it consumes a huge amount#of energy so it's mostly useless. she's still a cult survivor also#gorgug lives his entire life on a ship with his parents who quit a cushy deal maintaining a space station bc he wouldn't be allowed on#the low gravity let him grow very tall but also his oxygen saturation is pretty bad so he's got breathing support#fig is a robot who just found out she's a robot like two months ago. she's been assuming everyone's a robot like her and she's been feeling#very betrayed by her mom lying about that part. she's on a body mod spree which is rough bc system-specific parts are expensive#and so is adapting random parts to her system#fabian's still a pirate captain's son. can't say anything that'd be able to get the vibes across clearer than that#adaine went to tech/business school. she put her monthly allowance towards an ecoterrorist group in her academy which turned out to be an o#and she's currently wanted by UTS. more than fabian. which makes him slightly mad#she's also acquired a passion for low-tech weaponry on the way. she likes ice picks and cleavers#I think up all of this for no reason except that once again the idea of all these people being 1/teens and 2/on the same ship to be posties#is hilarious to me. esp. if they were in a forum group chat beforehand
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in-class-daydreams · 3 days
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Imagine ex-husband Gojo doing things for his new love interests that you begged him for while you were married.
After a joint meeting between the sister schools, you overheard Suguru asking him who he was texting during the meeting.
Satoru replied, "Just letting my date know I'll be a bit late tonight since we ran long here. Todo can yap, huh?"
"Seriously!" Their voices faded as they walked down the hall.
You stood just outside the meeting room watching the corner the disappeared around. If you had to pinpoint the number one reason your marriage failed - more than clan pressure, more than the strain of being young parents, more than back to back to back missions - it would be the fact that Satoru can't communicate for shit.
Part of it wasn't his fault. His brain just didn't work like that. An inconvenient side effect of limitless is that everything makes sense in your head, but it's hard for a person with the gift to explain their thoughts to others.
So the no-call, no-shows to dinners was technically a side effect of limitless, as was his inability to articulate his feelings like an adult or the fact that he would just do things without even telling you there was a problem in the first place.
"Quit doing that with your face, brat." Sukuna emerges from the meeting room. He's out of his Ryomen form at the moment, as he usually is during meetings so that he can actually fit in his chair. "How long are you gonna let what he does affect you?"
"It doesn't!" you insist.
Sukuna rolls his eyes. "If that helps you sleep at night."
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Imagine reminding yourself that you can't be mad at him.
You're seeing other people now, too. Hell, you've been divorced for over a decade, it's insanity that you care at all.
It's just. You never doubted his love for you. Not for a second, not even now that your marriage failed and you largely raised your son on your own.
"Mom?"
Maybe your divorce was his motivation to be better. You're not sure. But if he's capable of change, capable of being attentive and communicative, why couldn't he change for you all those years ago?
"Mom."
Could it be that you were his childhood companion and he loved you, but he was never in love with you? Was his love for you less than your love for him?
You hardly notice your son calling out to you until he springs into action. "Mom!" Sen nudges you away from the stove to turn of the burner. When did smoke fill the kitchen? The roux you were trying to make was burnt to a crisp, stuck to the pan and emanating an unpleasant smell.
Sen gently pries your hands off the handle and drops the ruined pan in the sink to soak. Then he makes sure the burner's off before turning to you with a conflicted expression.
He may have inherited a hybrid of both your and Satoru's personal brands of emotional stuntedness, but he could put two and two together between how distracted you've been and the rumors of Satoru dating again - What with it being huge news among jujutsu society (aka power hungry clans with eligible daughters.) Your son had his own complicated feelings regarding his father and as much as he'd prefer Satoru stay away from you, it hurt him to see you like this.
Though, watching you try to keep a stiff upper lip for his sake during the divorce is the reason he doesn't want his father anywhere near you.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." You wipe your hands on a dish towel. "I wasn't paying attention. Hang tight while I make you something else."
He could kill Satoru right now. But you wouldn't like that, so he won't.
"Mama, I--" He shuts his mouth. You've been protecting him from the details of the divorce his whole life. What did he know about comforting you? But while he may not have been able to protect you then, he can sure as hell try now.
"Mama, why don't I take you out to dinner? My treat."
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Imagine that Sen decides he needs to stop having ideas.
He brought you to a local okonomiyaki that you've been going to since he was little to the point where the owners knew you well and liked to give you little extras from the kitchen. Today's treat was a side of pickled radish.
It was your happy little hideaway. Away from jujutsu and clans and curses and your broken home.
Sen insisted on cooking the okonomiyaki for you, saying that, "My treats means I'll take care of everything!" The weak smile you gave him made his heart soar.
You giggle while he jokes around and tells you about school like how Hikari fell asleep for 45 minutes out of an hour long test and still got a better score than him. Hearing about your son and his happy school days always made you feel better.
Sen was ready to give himself a pat on the back for cheering you up when he hears the front bell jungle and a woman's laughter carries over.
"Fancy places are like that, though!" the woman laughs. "They give a bite of food per plate."
Then a familiar voice replies, "Yeah, but it was good, wasn't it? And now we get to fill up at a cute place like this."
Even though he's the one facing the door and not you, the look on your face tells Sen all he needs to know. What breaks his heart is that you've sunk lower into your seat to make yourself smaller.
Sen could kill his father right now.
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Hooray, angst!
Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]
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maddybthorne · 3 days
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I want a BBC Merlin fanfic where Hunith visits Camelot as a surprise. Merlin doesn't know she's coming, only Gaius knows that she plans to visit. This is set in a time period where all the knights are alive (I'm looking at you Lancelot.) and Arthur is Prince, but running the Kingdom as Uther is unwell.
Hunith pulls up to Camelot and is walking towards the Castle through the citadel, burdened by her bags, when a cheerful voice rings out. "Do you need any help, miss?" It's one of the many Castle servants.
Hunith explains that she is heading to the Castle to visit her son who works there, the servant then offers to carry her bags.
"Oh I don't want to be a bother." Hunith replies
"It's no bother at all! Really, I was heading that way already." The servant insists and they both make their way to the castle, "What's your son's name by the way, I might know him if he works here."
"His name is Merlin." Hunith responds with a smile. The servant stops walking and looks at her. It's not only him that stops at this announcement.
"Y-you're Merlin's Mother?!?" A nearby servant who had been close enough to hear the conversation says in awe.
The courtyard that they're walking through gradually fills with hushed whispers as the news spreads. Everyone knows of Merlin. The Prince's manservant who had managed to not quit in the first week of serving him. Merlin, who changed the Prince from a spoiled brat into a good man whom the Kingdom was proud of and eagerly awaited the day he would be crowned King. Merlin, who had followed the Prince into battle time and time again to save Camelot.
I want a fanfiction where The Entire Of Camelot loves Merlin and is thankful for his role in making Arthur a good person. Where not only the Knights, but the Castle staff meet his mother and collectively decide that she is That Woman and treat her with Respect. Where they treat her like Royalty.
Ofc Gwaine loves her. That's his best friend's mom. Hunith looks at all the knights and adopts them on the Spot.
And Merlin is either really confused by this behavior or knows and just lets it happen.
Arthur has no idea what's going on or why but he treats her with reverence and love because that's his future Mother in Law and he's very much starved for parental affection which she gives him (and the knights) in spades.
But yes, I just want a fic of people meeting Hunith and being like "Thank you for giving birth to your son. I'd die for you both" and her being like "...please don't."
(Bonus if Leon meets her and is just like. "How did you survive being around that little shit (Merlin) for so long?" And she just laughs and gives him advice, which makes him cry because he's just so tired. #LetLeonRest2024 I will push this agenda till I die)
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thepersonperson · 1 day
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Why the hell is JJK 270 called Dream's End?
JJK 270 being titled Dream’s End is so fudging ominous. That’s some Umineko type beat. I’m not sure if I should even judge this chapter as presented because of this. In fact, I'm holding off on posting the other analysis I had for today since I no longer am certain of what JJK 268–270 are.
There's two lines of thought I have:
1) Gege suffering from burnout and bad working conditions plus rushing has caused the writing to decline.
2) Gege still has a hidden ace saved for the final chapter and the weird writing is deliberate.
I'm going to humor Option 2, but only because the title of this chapter is called Dream's End.
(The most 'hear me out' discussion under the cut. Using TCB scans and leaks. Click images for captions/citations.)
Preface
"Without love it cannot be seen."
This is a phrase and philosophy I have borrowed from Umineko since I've started these JJK yapfests. It essentially boils down to 'discard your negative biases and try to examine things in good faith.'
JJK 268 & 269 have fudging tested that for me. I've been giving Gege and the characters a pretty hard time with the caveat of knowing how exploitative the manga industry is. I initially rejected the idea that these chapters were to be taken at anything other than face-value because of this. In fact, I cited the JJK 268 chapter title of Finale as a reason I've accepted things as is.
And with that same logic, I'm now doing the opposite... So hear me out! I've got some pretty good reasons to be doing this.
What's wrong with JJK 268–270?
There's a lot of things in these chapters that are fundamentally inconsistent with what's been established in throughout the manga. If we use Option 1 to explain these contradictions, these are last second retcons because Gege forgor.
Option 2? We're about to have the rug pulled the hell out from under us because the last 3 chapters have been delusions.
What first tipped me off to something possibly being wrong on purpose was the fate of the incarnated culling game players in JJK 270. Not too long ago it was established that the souls of non-sorcerers in vessels were unsavable.
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The souls are suppressed in a way that distorts them permanently or their consciousness is outright destroyed. They were gambling on Megumi's survival due to him being a sorcerer and Sukuna's incarnation method being unique. 99% of them will die and those who survive will likely be vegetables, so why is there a sudden gamble on their survival in JJK 270?
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It's such a neat and fine bow to tie this mess up that goes directly against existing lore. It's so ideal that it has me suspicious.
Brain damage from sorcery on non-sorcerers has been established as extremely taxing. I think about Gojo's Unlimited Void (UV) the most when it comes to this. Non-sorcerers were hit by it for 0.2 seconds and required medical intervention for 2 months to fully heal from it. Sukuna, the absolute strongest, tanked some of it and it affected him for the rest of the battle. ...And then we have Megumi who was under it for about 6 minutes and seems to have very little problems from it.
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This is bizarre. Someone who underwent the month long bath and UV without Reverse Curse Technique (RCT) should be struggling to even stand after waking up. Sukuna had RCT and the Gojo brain damage still took him out. This screams of inconsistent writing unless...this is a deliberate hint that something is amiss.
I want to draw attention to the panel Megumi's UV damage is addressed. Just about everyone has been seemingly waiting around in the same spot for him to wake up. It's a bit weird given that sorcerers don't usually do that. They usually get a move on asap. And after the destruction of Shinjuku and the Culling Game Players still running about, why would they take a breather to discuss their plans that worked?
But that's not what started bothering me about that panel after reading JJK 270. It's that characters who aren't in the room, start appearing without warning. Look who is behind Maki and to the left. It's Kusakabe. And to her and Yuta's right? Inumaki. So why is it that Hakari, Kiara, and Ino are in Kusakabe's place while Todo spawns where Inumaki is? (And Yuta is facing the wrong direction too.)
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That's pretty fudging weird right? You can chalk it up to Gege forgor but it doesn't stop there. Higuruma enters the discussion in a way that causes Yuji to pause.
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Why is Yuji surprised to see him? (And where the fudge did he come from?) Shouldn't he know of his survival by now? And why is he in a cast? Higuruma had learned RCT and fully restored his arms before leaving the battlefield. If he's conscious, then he should be able to heal himself fully no problems.
And that got me thinking... Why is Yuji still missing his fingers?
It was established that he kept his fingers unhealed to help with Yuta's plan. This means that if he won, he has no need to keep them missing. Yuji has fully regenerated missing chunks of his face, including his eye, and stomach. He has RCT just like Higuruma. But it doesn't end there either. Yuji's number of fingers on his left hand keeps changing.
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4 fingers, 3 fingers, dubious amount of fingers, 5 fingers. Once again, you can chalk it up to Gege forgor, but JJK 270 came out and the same problem started happening with Megumi's scars.
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The same mistake is made within the same set of panels and very big page. That's weird.
ONCE AGAIN, you can chalk it up to Gege forgor, but when these errors occur, like with Yuta mistakenly having his ring on in JJK 251, Gege will note the mistake outright. Gege has made no such comments for Yuji's fingers or the scars. This many “errors” in row when Gege has otherwise been careful with these features could indicate it really is on purpose. (Kind of like Sukuna's everchanging mask. The thing was just moving around and pulsing. That was deliberate not inconsistency.)
What does this mean?
I think it means what we are seeing isn't reality. After all, the most common way to tell if you're dreaming is being unable to count the number of fingers on your hands. Another way to tell is the distortion of faces.
Readers have noticed that something is wrong. The weird timeskips, the lack of lasting consequences, design inconsistencies, characters behaving like similes of themselves, death and pain being glossed over like it's nothing. It all feels so off. But it's still close enough to the original to be somewhat believable. ...Is that not what it's like to dream and not know you are dreaming?
Why is it that the chapter titled Dream's End ends with the hunt for a curse user whose ability is to distort the perception of reality?
Dreams and Delusions in JJK
We already know Gege weaves Buddhist symbolism and ideas heavily into JJK. I'm not an expert in Buddhism at all, so there's a lot of it that goes over my head. I decided to look into if dreams are significant in Buddhism and boy howdy are they. Quoted directly from the source:
"Dreams can be a message from a Bodhisattva, an ancestor, or a god, The intent of the dream may be to test the dreamer’s resolve: is he non-retreating (avaivartika) from Bodhi (enlightenment) even when sleeping? The purpose of the dream visit may be to communicate information vital to the dreamer’s well-being. The Buddha himself had five dreams of catastrophes, falling stars and worlds in collision just before his enlightenment. The dreams were sent to him not by a benevolent Dharma-protector, but by an malevolent sorcerer, intent on disrupting the Buddha’s samadhi and preventing his awakening."
In summary, (correct me if I'm wrong) dreams appear to be seen as another state of being just as valuable and impermanent as reality.
There's also this other bit I'll quote directly.
"The most common use of dreams in the literature of the Mahayana, or “Northern School” of Buddhism in China, Tibet, Japan, Korea, and Vietnam is to see dreams as a simile for sunyata, (emptiness) the hollow core at the heart of all component dharmas (things). For example, in the well-known Vajra (Diamond) Sutra, the Buddha taught that:
“All conditioned dharmas, are like a dream, like an illusion, like a bubble, like a shadow, like a dewdrop, like a lightening flash; you should contemplate them thus.”"
That's starting to sound like what Yuji's Domain does, right? He projects memories that did happen and mixes them with delusions and dreams. Sukuna and Megumi both experience this in full.
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It's incredibly suspicious that it hasn't been named yet. Yuji is the son of Kenjaku who has a domain based on the Womb Sutra/Realm...which is paired with the aforementioned Diamond Realm to encompass the entire Dharma. It's very likely this is what Yuji's domain is—a realm of dreams and reality combined as one.
Unreality Runs in the Family
When Sasaki Setsuko "wakes up" as the Culling Games begin, Kenjaku explains her situation with this:
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What follows is a sequence that cannot be described as a dream. It seems to be a blend of reality and hallucinations. But that's not anything strange, Sukuna does it too with Kashimo in reverse.
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As you can see, both the positions of the characters and even the backgrounds change suddenly from reality to ??? and from sequence to sequence. It's all incredibly dream like.
Another strange thing about this space is Kenjaku creating it as a part of an escape route Binding Vow. You know, the kind Sukuna uses for Malevolent Shrine.
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What I want to draw attention to here is this reality-dream state somewhat requires consent (in the loosest possible definition) to appear. The person entering this state has to desire it themself. We see this with Jogo and Gojo who are mutually interested in having a relationship of somekind with Sukuna. (Same with Kashimo.)
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(It's also very hard to tell if they are dead or still in the process of dying during this.)
This is where the delusions Yuji projects differ. They are forced onto others when he is near death or severely injured, seemingly as a defense mechanism.
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And would you look at that...the syntax is identical for Todo and Choso's Brother Yuji Delusions. "At that moment, a memory was born inside X's brain...of a past event that never happened." It's kind of like how Yuji replaces Gojo in Megumi's memory to reach him. It's also very strange that Sukuna, Choso, and Jogo go "What is this?" to this in-between space.
My point here is that Yuji having access to this space has been hinted at since the start of this manga and that it was inherited it by blood. (Totally Not Kenjaku showing up with Takaba Mr. Reality Warping CT in JJK 270 supports my case too I think.)
What does this mean for JJK 268–270?
The battle ended in JJK 268. Of that I'm certain. What I no longer know is if anyone survived.
A common complaint about Sukuna's death is his lack of an afterlife scene. Everything ended so abruptly. And then Megumi wakes up.
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It's so jarring in out of place. ...But that's how all scenes involving the space between dreams and reality begin. Sasaki Setsuko "wakes up" once and then again. Most of us have experienced those kind of dreams right? (They made a whole movie about it called Inception which is based on the movie Paprika.)
There's one other thing I need to draw attention to. Yuji's Domain shattered after Sukuna cast Domain Expansion (DE).
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When a sorcerer withdraws their domain voluntarily, it does not shatter. Gojo has demonstrated this for us in quite clearly.
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When a domain is broken by force, it will shatter and shards will scatter. When a domain is withdrawn, no shards are left behind. Yuta uses these facts as a part of his plan. In JJK 252, it's revealed by Kusakabe that Yuta shatters his own domain on purpose to trick Sukuna into thinking he won.
What this means is that some kind of violent action needs to be taken to shatter a domain. Yuji's domain is massive and his attacks only targeted Sukuna. What could've shattered his domain all at once? He's not had the time to practice shattering parts of it like Yuta.
Gojo has shown us what a uniform domain shattering looks like—it happens when Malevolent Shrine activates. (Please note that the sfx used for Sukuna breaking Gojo's domain is カシャア. It's the same one used for Yuji's domain shattering.)
I'm proposing that we've been in unreality since the end of JJK 266. Sukuna and Yuji are both severely injured, on the verge of death, and have a connection with each other. These are all conditions that trigger the space between dreams and reality.
And I must remind you that Yuji first triggers this event with Todo after a severe head injury. Right before Sukuna casts his domain, they do this to each other.
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Everything that has come after has been perfect for Yuji to a unbelievable degree. Everyone whose death was uncertain is alive and the living are getting exactly what they wanted. The effort behind it and the logistics are all missing. And yes a rushed ending can explain that, but that too can be part of the ruse.
Another massive complaint is that mourning has not occurred. Not for Gojo or Choso despite how much Yuji cherished them. It's like they're being willfully forgotten by the cast despite being crucial to their success in Shinjuku. It feels out of character, especially since Yuji is of the few that showed concern for them no matter what.
But if this is a delusion on the brink of death designed to bring happiness, why would Yuji think of the dead? He's always been so avoidant with it. When his grandpa is dying and trying to talk about his parents, Yuji tells him to shut up. When Nanami dies, he thinks of him then and then never again directly leading up to his talk with Sukuna. When Megumi tries to discuss Nobara's fate, Yuji ends the conversation as quickly as possible.
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The only people in this world are the ones who may or may not be dead. He saw Yuta in Gojo's corpse. The only way that can happen is if Gojo is dead. Yuji has no choice but to believe it. Choso burned away before his eyes. Yuji has no choice but to believe it. He went through some of Megumi's memories and saw Tsumiki's corpse. Yuji has no choice but to believe it.
And since Tsumiki is the only person Yuji wasn't close with, she's the only death that has been outright acknowledged. But not for too long! That would make Megumi sad.
Another complaint is that Sukuna really didn't kill anyone in the final battle outside of those two and Kashimo. The dudebros call it Disney Kaisen. But the fairytale-like idea that everyone is ok? Todo was the one who put that idea in Yuji's head.
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And Yuji has always been one to fall to story-like logic when things look like they're finally wrapping up.
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"And then everything will be just fine." (Yuji before the worst possible outcome for both him and Megumi happens.)
This is similar to the line Gakuganji uses in JJK 270. "Everything is fine." This line is the whole reason I sat down and wrote this all out without stopping. I know Gakuganji. He'd never say that. This man has been in a state of worry over Jujutsu Society since his first appearance. He doesn't even fully believe in Gojo's cause as someone who values tradition. He's a stickler for details and will do everything in his power to ensure stability. For him to toss Sukuna and Tengen's remains in a shrine and call it a day? Who is that? He's changed but not that much.
And so I compared the raws.
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It is very much the same 大丈夫 (Daijoubu). These are Yuji's words.
What I'm proposing is that JJK 267–270 are Yuji's delusions of the happiest possible ending. It's a picture perfect little end where all the trauma and death has no effect on the living and people move on like nothing happened. I don't know if this means he's dead or if Megumi's dead or if they're all dead. But what I'm seeing now? I don't think it's real.
Reexamining JJK 269
CW: Brief discussion of suicide.
Even if this turns out to be a part of the smokescreen, I'm always going to hate JJK 269. But I do want to give it some grace under the assumption this chapter titled Examination (which can also be translated as Reflection) is about Yuji's guilt. Both him and Megumi's tbh. I think their feelings for each other and their situations are driving these delusions. That's one thing about this space that's real—the feelings behind them.
Yuji has a lot of guilt surrounding his existence after ingesting Sukuna, Megumi does too. Straight up Yuji has been seeking death over it since JJK 9.
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He struggles to forgive himself for being the centerpiece to violence he had little to no control over. The only thing that upsets him more than that is knowing that his death will break Megumi's heart. He doesn't want Megumi to feel any guilt for it whatsoever.
The kicker is, Megumi already knows Yuji is planning to die. And he wants to do everything to rid him of that guilt. Up until they connect inside of Yuji's domain, they were unaware they shared the same goal for each other.
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And that's what JJK 269 is. It's a very cold and harsh breakdown that allows them to forgive themselves. Blame is passed around and ultimately pinned on a combination of Gojo and Kenjaku. (It's really weird Sukuna isn't blamed either, but that's not the point of this for now.)
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Kusakabe's comment is especially harsh. Telling Yuji point blank he should've died and that both sides on the issue were valid? He may have believed that to an extent, but he made a point of not telling it to his face. Why have a whole chapter discussing how kind he is only to turn around and do this?
If this is all a delusion, a manifestation of Yuji's guilt and trying to absolve himself of it for Megumi's sake, that makes sense. This version of Kusakabe is what Yuji feels guilt over the most—Everyone's lives being better if he died.
In the same breath Kusakabe tells them to solely blame the adults. It's very reminiscent of Nanami telling Yuji that being a child is not a sin.
It should also be noted that every single time Megumi tries to apologize for being possessed, he's stopped. Maki tears into Yuta without checking in on him, but she asks if Megumi is ok and tells him to not blame himself. JJK 270 is full of this too. He tries to apologize to Tsumiki at her grave and Shoko tells him not to sweat it. He tries to apologize to Hana and she hits on him instead.
This delusion is crafted out of love. It allows Megumi to live in a world where he can move on from the guilt surrounding his possession and saving Yuji. It's all Yuji has ever wanted for him. And now that Yuji knows Megumi wants him to forgive himself, he has no choice but to do that too.
It's a perfect ending for Megumi that's too good to be true.
It must be a dream...
There's another thing I can't reconcile about JJK 269 unless it's a delusion—Todo's explanation for Yuta's plan. It's another one of those glaring contradictions.
In JJK 269 Todo claims Boogie Woogie can't target Maki. But in JJK 259? Todo makes plans with Mei Mei knowing that it works with her.
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Either Todo lied...or Yuji never fully knew the plan and that Boogie Woogie could target Maki. Otherwise she would be dead. Her surviving Sukuna's flames would be impossible.
I've already talked about how Yuji believing those who may or may not be dead are alive is Todo's doing. He's always been the one to save Yuji from his breakdowns. But let's talk about his speech in Shibuya.
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"Looking for meaning or logic in death...can at times defile the memories of those we've lost!"
Everyone who has read these past 3 chapters has really felt the defiling of Gojo's memory. And it was all in service to a strange logic that helped them cope with all this death. Acknowledging how massive Gojo's sacrifice was would riddle both Yuji and Megumi with immense guilt, so it's best to ignore it for Megumi's sake. (And perhaps that's why Yuji replaces Gojo in that memory.)
"What have you been entrusted with? You don't need to answer right now. However... Until you find your answer, never stop moving."
In a way, JJK 269 is an answer to the question Todo proposed. Yuji was entrusted with saving Megumi. Saving Megumi requires Megumi and Yuji forgiving themselves. And Yuji won't stop moving until it's done. All these time jumps and rushed developments are Yuji moving Megumi forward. He's getting that happy ending even if it's to the detriment of everything else.
What about Sukuna?
When Sukuna respects his opponents and they have a connection, he gives others these dreams before they pass. He's been very impressed by Megumi since JJK 9. It's not out of the ballpark for him to allow Megumi to die satisfied in the way Gojo did. Yuji also seems to understand that Sukuna was manipulated by others just as much as he was. I think that's why Sukuna is spared of the blame for the most part.
I don't think Sukuna won. He's probably dead. But he did warn Yuji not to underestimate him. I think the worst absolute last fudge you to Yuji he could give is this happy ending dream before ripping it all away as he dies.
In Conclusion...
I'm not sure that we're going to get that happy ending. Reggie Star warned us not too long ago.
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"...it all comes down to a sorcerer's lies."
Reggie is a lot like Sukuna here, outwitted by modern sorcerers and dying to someone he loathes. Sukuna is good at tricking people. He let Gojo think he won before tearing it all away. Yuta did the exact same thing to him. Or did he?
"Can you do me a favor? After all, you've killed me. Let fate toy with you, become a clown, then die."
If the last 3 chapters are delusions...Megumi will be playing the part of a clown.
Gege said the manga would end with either 1/4 or 3/4 of Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, and Gojo surviving. This of course, could be changed throughout its development, but Gege said the manga is ending in its original vision. There's a real chance that it's only Yuji or Nobara surviving.
Remember, Gege is a troll first and foremost. Somehow Gojo was revived, but in the worst way possible (Yujo). Somehow Gojo did tell Megumi about Toji, but in the worst way possible (dead man's final letter).
Gege also said this about the final chapter:
"I am working hard to create a final chapter that will (hopefully) satisfy as many people as possible who have supported Jujutsu Kaisen. So everyone, please bear with me!"
I can't think of a better way to appease everyone than by making the last 3 chapters nothing more than dream.
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kittyfrisk9 · 1 day
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IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon.
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Dead On Main.
---
Danny accidentally absorbed some of Nocturn's powers (like in the Vortex episode), and now, with these new temporary abilities, why not take advantage of them? Like a kid with a new toy, Danny (or should I say Phantom: with a new design) has fun every night going from dream to dream.
The dream world is so strange! Without the constant threat of a dream entity trying to take over the world and all that. Now he has fun exploring the most unusual parts of his classmates' subconscious, or anyone's in general.
Even though he knows he shouldn't be doing this (after all, he's a responsible adult now), spying on other people's dreams isn't exactly something a mature person would do.
On the other hand, Danny is the responsible adult; Phantom is the one who uses his new powers recklessly. Plus, no one in Gotham knows who Phantom is, and at the end of the day, he's not hurting anyone. Point in his favor!
It was all fun and games… until he felt it: the unpleasant taste of a nightmare, distressing and desperate. Phantom knows he has to intervene, because, unlike Nocturn, he does not delight in the suffering of others.
So he goes. And what he sees shocks him.
Resonant laughter of a psychopath, the constant pain of flesh being beaten, and the devastating reminder that no one came to help. Phantom doesn't just see it, he feels it. Gross. What is this? Why would anyone be hurting a child? Then he understands: this is not just a nightmare, it's a memory, and someone is suffering from reliving it.
He absolutely will not allow this nightmare to continue.
...
Jason hasn't been having good days lately, mostly because instead of going to therapy, he's chosen to sweep his trauma under the rug and aggressively throw himself into crime-fighting. He's not good at dealing with his emotions, especially when he's been tormented by the same damn nightmare over and over again.
He knows the script by heart, he knows how it will end, but he still feels the same fear as the first time.
His head hurts.
"No, not again," he thinks in terror. Once again, he's tied up, unable to move or call for help. It's colder than he remembers. The walls have a grotesque tint, with laughter written in every corner. But the worst thing is the silence… until the sound of clashing metal begins to resonate.
Everything is a thousand times worse. He's sure the original scenario wasn't like this, but his terrified mind refuses to accept it.
The metallic sound resonates louder, each crash rumbling in Jason's chest. His breathing quickens, and then he hears it: that laugh.
A deep, distorted echo of laughter that seems to come from every direction. The laughter snakes around the grotesque walls, filled with the same letters that repeat his agony. “Ha… ha… ha…” fills the air, louder with each invisible step that approaches.
Then, he appears.
It’s not the Joker he remembers from that fateful night. This one is worse. Bigger, more deformed, with a smile that seems to tear at his own face. The colors of his suit are darker, more twisted. It’s as if his mind has amplified him, made him more monstrous.
“My, my, how little Robin has grown? But… something remains the same, doesn’t it? No matter how many times you live it, it always ends the same way. And to think that you were my greatest work of art!”
His voice is mocking, but behind the mockery is pure cruelty, a wicked amusement that lights up in those crazy eyes.
The Joker leans towards Jason, his face invading the small distance between them. The sound of metal continues to echo, and Jason knows what's coming next.
"Oh, I almost forgot…" he says, pulling out of nowhere an iron crowbar that gleams in the dim light of the nightmare. "It wouldn't be a good memory without this, would it?"
That's when the pain begins. Jason doesn't want to scream, and he won't. Even though that abominable creature is just a representation of his killer, he won't give him the luxury of listening to him suffer. The blows continue, and Jason bites his tongue. It's just a nightmare, it's not real… it's not real.
It's not real.
It's not real.
It's not-
"Hey… Are you okay?" he hears him ask. His shocked gaze turns to where the clown should be and discovers that he's gone. In his place, there's a handsome young man: short, slightly messy black hair, expressive purple eyes, and a body almost completely shrouded in dark shadows.
The mysterious man had a cosmic air about him, surrounded by a mix of special effects of stars and galaxies. Something magical.
And new.
Jason honestly doesn't know what he's seeing, or why he's seeing it. "What?" he says, unable to find another word to describe his situation.
The entity laughs at his stunned state, a reassuring echo very different from the joker's laughter. Then he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's no longer in that ugly room. He's now in a field of flowers, beautiful and vibrant, looking out at a starry sky.
Okay, this is the part where he asks his brain how he went from being in a nightmare to being with a handsome guy under the stars, hands free and untethered.
"Relax, you're not crazy," the being says as he lies back in the grass. “You were in pain, and I didn’t like it, so I got you out of there. Don’t worry, that abomination won’t bother you again.”
Jason blinks twice, bewildered, not understanding anything. “You… saved me?”
“You could say yes.”
“Why?” He shakes his head. “No, wait, that’s not the question. Who…?” Looking back at the being, he decides to change his question: “What are you?”
He seems to have taken the being by surprise.
It clasps its hands together as it looks up at the sky, trying to act normal. Jason narrows his eyes. “You can call me Void.”
“Did you just make up that name?”
The being looks away, seemingly embarrassed at being found out. “Yeah…” And suddenly exclaims, “Ah, ancients! I'm not supposed to be doing this, much less with one of the bats."
That last sentence had given away more than it should have.
"Hey, how about we admire the night view and then pretend this never happened?" Void suggested with a hopeful smile, turning to Jason.
Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, the calm atmosphere, or just the tiredness after so many nights of endless nightmares, but Jason, without thinking too much about it, walked over, lay down next to Void on the grass, and said, "No."
He needed a break.
...
And that's how Jason befriended a dream demon. And how Danny pretended to be a dream demon until Nocturn's powers wore off. He couldn't let the bats find out his identity.
After that, they spent more time together, fell in love, there was drama and there was closure. In the middle of all that, Danny started having tea with Alfred in the dream world, and at other times, he had fun bothering the other bats in their dreams.
But that's another story.
---
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
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Text
Deathday Party
Part of this post series > link
Tim had no idea he was being courted by Danny and was making his way to an official engagement at this rate. What he did know was that Danny had invited him to an important party at the mansion of none other then Vlad Masters.
Danny had mentioned that his family and Masters had a rocky past but it had gotten better before he left for university. Tim wasn't convinced due to the stories Danny had offhandly mentioned. The guy had tried to out Danny to his parents and rallied the town against him. So excuse Tim for not wanting Danny to go back to a homophobic town like that and a bastard who did something so petty just because a kid's mom wouldn't sleep with you.
But Danny was his friend. The only normal friend he had who treated him like this. Sure he really likes giving gifts and has a fascination for flowers but that's all the more reason to look after him. It was pure luck that Tim befriended him before a cult did.
Tim was still going to supportive and still needed to make it up to Danny for not visiting Amity Park last time. So he packed and boarded the plane a few days before the party.
Danny began introducing Tim to everyone in his family. For the most part, it was a warm welcome. Danny's dad told him that they would have to sleep in separate rooms because "He knows how boys could be and there will be no funny business."
Tim was indignant but reminded himself to be polite. Danny's dad may not be the most accepting of LGBT people but this was his home.
Danny only blushed and brushed his dad off, after all, he and Tim hadn't even kissed yet.
Danny's friends were cool though. Sam was definitely the source of Danny's gothic tendencies. She and Danny discussed herbs, crystals, and graveyards together while Tim got to know Tucker.
The next day they went to the Masters' estate and Tim met Danny's other family. Dani or Elle was Danny's little sister or cousin or something. It was confusing but she immediately took a liking to Tim.
"Ooo, he's cute~ You dont mind sharing right Danny?" She teased linking arms with Tim.
"Knock it off Elle. He's too old for you anyway and if Vlad heard you he'd set Tim on fire." Danny admonished her pulling her off by the hoodie.
Tim didn't catch that Danny was being completely serious about the fire part.
Vlad Masters would be out of the house until the party that night but the mansion was being set up for the event. Apparently, the "Deathday" party was a bigger deal than Tim thought. The guest list was a mile long.
From what Tim gathered a death day was a celebration of life after a near-death experience. Like if someone flatlined during surgery and are brought back. Its actually a pretty smart way to deal with trauma by making the event a reason to celebrate.
Tim had heard from Danny of the day he was electrocuted and that it changed his life. He definitely had the scar to prove it. Danny had gotten a UV tattoo over it or something because it glowed faintly at night. It was pretty cool.
That evening Tim was handed his costume for the event. The party had a royal theme, something that didn't seem like Danny's idea. Still, Danny's silver and ivy green dublette looked...pretty good. Tim dressed in a similar red and gold suit.
"You look good." Danny pulled out an ornate emerald cravat pin and pinned it to Tim label.
"You too," Tim said without thinking but Danny smiled before going back to putting the finishing touches on their outfits.
It was...intimate to say the least as Danny pulled back Tim's hair. He fastened their capes and a (fake) dagger to his belt.
Danny put put on a subtle layer of makeup. Darkening his eyes, cheeks, and lips. It gave him a pale and deathly appearance.
"I have to look my best. I don't want anyone to think I'm just using you as arm candy." Danny laughed.
"That implies that you are using me as that already." Tim jested but stopped when Danny pointed to the makeup trey. "You're joking."
"Im not. It's an important event and this isn't Gotham. There are alot of people i want you to meet. Just play along." Danny begged.
Tim agreed letting Danny put on a bit of black and red makeup.
"Aww, Tim. You look absolutely ghastly. Your funeral ready." Danny gushed as he turned to grab the last things they needed. Two circlets with stars emblems embedded in them.
Tim laughed internally. Danny was always to positive Tim forgot just how goth he was. Tim knew he shouldn't be surpised.
Tim and Danny walked to the mansion's ballroom which was full of guests dressed similarly to them. The room glowed eerily under green-flamed torches. Very gothic. On second thought this suited Danny.
A staff member er...servant announced their arrival.
"His Highness the High Prince of the realm of infinite space and his guest."
None other than Vlad Masters approached. He had thrown this party for his godson and wanted everything perfect. He eyed Tim critically before speaking to Danny.
"Daniel I heard about your...friend from Elle. Its that what he is?" Masters studied.
"He's my-"
"Boyfriend! I'm his boyfriend." Tim interrupted. He was not going to let this homophonic piece of shit undermine Danny's sexuality again and try to embarrass him. Especially on such an I'm day. " Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne and head of Wayne Industries. I've heard a LOT about you Mr.Masters."
After a moment Vlad nodded and smiled.
"You've chosen well. He's quite the catch my boy. Happy Death Day." Vlad patted Danny on the back before going to mingle with Danny's parents who where tearing up the cheese platter.
Danny blinked owlishly at Tim. Tim had never used that word yet, Danny thought they were not at that stage yet.
"Sorry Danny, i got caught up." Tim sighed.
"You know he's going to tell everyone right?" Danny laughed "I hope you're ready."
Danny dragged Tim to meet his ghost friends for the rest of the evening between dancing and eating.
Tim had fun meeting Danny's fellow goth friends who complimented him a lot. They were definitely strange but they really loved Danny. The whole party was like a Renaissance festival meets one of those novels that Jason loved. Actually, Jason would be so jealous of him right now. Tim made sure to take pictures. Some of them came out fuzzy but it was enough to make Jason mad.
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mondaymelon · 3 days
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₊⊹ … 99% NOT LOVE ! | kinich x gn!reader
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— in which two people notice what two people don't .
— i've gone absolutely batshit over him your honour. im going to now start writing for kinich like a crazed man dying of thirst in the desert. let it be known that streamer!au kinich, enemies to lovers with poacher mc and other ideas are coming up (no im not cheating on xiao shush)
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mualani notices it.
"hehe."
and you hear it.
"so! there's a little..." she stares at you with the most serious face you've ever seen on the girl, acting suspiciously unlike herself. gesturing at you with exaggerated hand movements, then pointing toward who knows where, she eyes you. mischievously. "something that's 'going on', yea?"
and at first, you have absolutely no clue what she could be referring to. mualani is a sociable person, after all. her definition of "something" could range anywhere between a particularly cute baby saurian to an out-of-control-bonfire turned wildfire.
with the only eventful thing today being a brief morning surf session with sharky, you just sat there, never having felt more lost.
mualani grabs your shoulders in an iron grip, leaning forward to the point she's almost beginning to seem menacing. you can see the moment where she tries to think over something (which she never does quite successfully) before she straight up shouts:
"ah!! i'll just spell it out for you!! you. and kinich. bestie. spill."
.
.
.
ajaw did more than just "notice" it.
"you..! kIINICH, did you seriously have to-"
"noisy."
"selfish assh- ALMIGHTY DRAGONLORD K'UHUL AJAW HAS HAD ENOUGH OF THE DISRESPECT! TIME AND TIME AGAIN, yOU'VE-"
"once again, ajaw. be quiet."
"sure sure, and pretend i didn't see you and that someone do a little smoochy-smooch, huh?! UGH, now you've asked for it- KINICH AND LOVEY DOVEY, SITTIN' IN A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-"
ajaw was what you would call a "witness". though, most would use that term in regards to one seeing a crime or heinous event take place — this event was nothing of that nature.
well, as far as kinich was concerned, the matter was simple. you'd ventured all the way to scions of the canopy to give him a gift, (claiming it was for the time he'd helped you after a couple of yumkausarus hadn't enjoyed your fruit offering and instead decided to off you), and he'd refused to accept it. he wasn't one to receive reimbursement for others, and he didn't particularly like talking either — it was a well-known fact, almost law in natlan, that if the malipo ignored your words, all you need do was apologize and continue on.
well, you did exactly the opposite.
"no thanks."
"...sorry?"
"i don't need it."
"haha, so 'malipo' kinich's rumored no-nonsense nature really proved to be true! now come over here so i can give you my fucking gift!"
you were rather adamant about giving it to him. the reason? you'd bought the gift on a whim after seeing it being sold by a passing merchant, advertised as "80% only today if you buy within the next like 4 minutes" and you'd immediately dropped every mora you had. it was the most useless little thing ever, and you didn't want it at this point, but.. the deals. how could you return such an item???
naturally, you handed it off to the man you'd seen for a good two minutes before he flew, or did whatever his thing was, away. the man had remembered furrowing his brows the slightest, listening to ajaw's persistent yellings of "IT'S AN OFFERING TO ME, TAKE IT" and feeling an oncoming headache. "i said i didn't.."
as he turned to walk away, three unfortunate(?) things occured.
a rock under your shoe and a very graceful process of falling to the ground
kinich looking back (his mistake)
a kiss...?
oh, and two extra.
4. ajaw had saw it all. 5. and mualani, who had saw you from a distance and was coming to greet you, was faced with a sight she could not process.
...Now that he thought over it again, was the matter really "simple"? kinich's job was what he considered simple — split 70% to investigation, 10% to final decision, and 10% to execution, well portioned and planned out.
then, this...
.
.
.
"girlie, you've seriously got the wrong idea. i'm telling you, we aren't dating!"
"mmmokay. of course! because not-dating people kiss allll the time!"
you paused for a moment, remembering kinich's even tone, stern gaze, and... ah, a face that deserved a gold medal.
"it's only 99% not love, okay mualani? but if it wasn't..."
.
.
.
"... and it's 99% not love, ajaw."
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(a/n) darling im back from jail part 2. daddys home part 2. not funny? ok. HIHIHIHI ive bene really built like a sun dried raisin lately but kinich is the healing holy water that has saved me i will write more for him in the future because i love him a stupid amount its like the first time in a decade I've written for just ONE character and AND AND
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I THOUGHT HE WOULDNT OCME HOME BECAUSE I ONLY HAD 68 WISHES OUT OF MY ORIGINAL LIKE 100+ AND RUINED MY CHANCES BECAUSE OF REALLY REALLY WANTING MuALANI (i love her sm) BUT. BUT BRO CAME HOME. ON THE FIRST 10 PULL AND WON THE 50/50 JUST LIKE MUALANI DID (or is it 45/55 now idk) LIVE LAUGH LOVE KINICH !!
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[ tags: ] @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @intpessimistic
( dm or comment to be added ! i might miss ur comment so just to be sure, leave a comment on the actual masterlists page on my pinned ^ ^ )
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mandarinmoons · 2 days
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hi! i have an idea ive been thinking about for a while. spencer and the team (plus reader) are at a bar and reader goes off to get a drink/dance/talk to someone and either a girl or a group of girls come up to spencer and start flirting with him. the first thing she/they ask ofc is "do you have a girlfriend?" and spencer (not realizing they are flirting) is like yes!!! her name is _____ and she is amazing and i love her so much.... and he goes on like a 20 minute rant about reader. reader finally finds him talking to these girls/girl and has to recuse them/her from his ranting about herself and explain what they actually meant.
sorry that was a lot but i wanted to make sure understood what i was envisioning. thank you so much!!!
“Spence, please!”
Spencer kept pulling you closer as he tried to nuzzle his way into your neck and leave a few kisses behind your ear. He wasn’t one for PDA, but after a few shots he was puddy in your hands and everyone had to witness what a mess you made of him in this state.
“I just wanna be close to you,” you could feel him pout as his lips were pressed against your neck, his thumbs rubbing over your waist.
“Looks like you’re not getting out of here anytime soon, huh pretty girl?”
Derek chuckled as he took pleasure seeing his younger brother of a coworker finally have a girlfriend, especially with how clingy he was being at the moment. It was as if Spencer would follow you if you were to leave for only a minute, which he had done approximately half an hour ago when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and somehow he still had enough brainpower to talk about how hand-dryers could actually spread more germs and not remove them. He’d even taken it upon himself to take some paper towels and dry your hands for you, making sure to even dry the spaces between your fingers.
You had had only one drink and you were not going home unless you had a second one. Spencer had already downed three in that time, and looking at the state that he was in, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to get served any more tonight.
“Spence, I'm going to get a quick drink, okay? Stay here.”
Prying his hands off of you, you quickly slipped out of Spencer’s grasp before he managed to put his hands on your waist again.
A few minutes later, Penelope pulls Derek to the dance floor while Emily comes across an old friend and excuses herself to have a word with her, leaving Spencer all by himself at the booth, his tongue sticking out from the side of his mouth while fidgeting with his fingers. He was too deep in thought that he didn’t notice a group of girls come over and sit next to him, their intentions clearly not innocent.
“Hi! You’re here all alone?”
“Oh, I’m not! I’m here with my girlfriend and team mates!”
“I don’t see any girlfriend around.”
“She went to get a drink. Oh, she loves an aperol spritz, she’s got great taste, in general not just in drinks.”
The girls watched in amazement as Spencer kept talking about every small thing he could come up with about you, from your favorite color and the psychological meaning behind it to your Myers Briggs personality type and how you’re both compatible.
As the endless line at the bar finally came to an end and you managed to get your drink, walking back to the team’s spot you noticed the unfamiliar girls surrounding Spencer and your stomach churned in nerves. The closer you got however you noticed their bored and confused faces and that’s all you needed to know that Spencer had most probably pulled his book smarts out on them and left them speechless.
“Oh and this one time- Y/N, you’re back!”
Spencer pulled you in for a hug, nearly knocking the drink out of your hands. Managing to put it down on the table, you rested your hand on his back as you turned your attention to the strangers, them clearly on the edges of their seats and ready to bolt at any moment.
“We’re gonna go, nice to meet you both.”
Your eyes followed them as they quickly got up and made their way to the other side of the bar, even from a distance you could see the red hue on their cheeks, embarrassment written all over their faces.
“Spence, what did they want?”
“They came over and asked if I had a girlfriend.”
“That’s it?”
Spencer nodded as he nuzzled into your stomach, “And I talked about how great you are and how I’m going to marry you one day.”
Laughter erupted from your mouth as you heard the answer, also because of Spencer’s fingers practically digging into your sides that it was tickling you.
“Sweetie, I don’t think that’s what they meant by that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Usually when someone asks “Do you have a girlfriend/boyfriend?”, it’s their way of asking “Are you single?”
Spencer blinked his eyes, your words not yet registering in his head.
“They were flirting with you.”
“Oh… really?”
Nodding along, the conversation was put on halt as everyone made their way back to the table.
“You guys had to leave him alone, huh?”
“Why? What happened?”
“Some girls came up to Spencer and tried to hit on him.”
“Oh, pretty boy’s got game now, huh?”
The team chuckled, but Spencer kept burrowing his head more into your embrace. It was clear that no matter how many girls tried their luck with him it would inevitably fail, as you were his home that he would come back to every time.
You can find my masterlist here!
Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3
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midday-clouds · 2 days
Text
Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》
There are many yandere batfam x neglected reader but I can't get enough of them--- So here is a silly story idea I have
I don't go into too much detail about how the reader is immortal but I'll probably share about it another timeee
CW: Neglect, Self-Degrading, Kidnapping, Violence(Being shot at), Blood, "Death"
Reader is a product of a hookup between Bruce and some random other woman, your mom
You and your mom had a decent relationship. The two of you would help each other out and have fun playing games. You were so content without knowing who your father was.
Your world begins to collapse when your mom doesn’t come home one day. A bunch of strange people suddenly come into your house and drag you out. You never understood what happened that day besides that you were now alone.
After your mother is announced dead, you find out that you are related to the millionaire, Bruce Wayne. You don’t know much about him but still find yourself put on the Wayne Manor's doorstep
Bruce had just gone through the loss of Jason and had just taken Tim in. He would have happily made some space in his schedule but a case always comes up and makes him forget about you.
Due to Bruce being too busy, you never properly mourned for your mother. Alfred would try to help you but you needed your dad.
For the first week, you locked yourself in your room, almost immediately forgotten by the rest of the family. Alfred would bring meals to your room, knowing that you aren't ready for any sort of interaction in this state. 
Alfred tries to convince Bruce to prioritize your health but there is always a case that takes up all of his attention
After that first week, you become comfortable enough to try and get out of your room at least.
With you around the manor more, the family begins to see them more often but not enough to care.
All of them were busy being vigilantes and weren’t interested in connecting with you. Sure, don't mean to neglect you, but some criminals just don't know when to stop
This worsens your mental state, making them regret not trying to bond with their family earlier. If they had tried in the beginning, then maybe they would have made connections with your new family. Now it feels like they've lost their chance
Alfred would do his best to comfort you but he could only help so much.
When you met Dick, it was when he was stopping by to talk to Bruce. You both had a fun conversation together but that was it.
After that first interaction, you tried to talk to Dick more often when he stopped by, but it seems the first time was just lucky. Dick always had something that didn't allow for a quick chat,
Meeting Jason was honestly terrifying. You were in the kitchen when you heard some noise from outside. It's dark outside so you walk up to the window to see what the sound was
Because of the darkness outside and lights inside, you mainly just see your reflection when looking outside
You squint your eyes to try to see past the reflection when a red helmet pops up and frightened you
Falling onto the ground, you stare in shock at seeing the stranger open the window and step inside
Jason tries to relax your nerves by taking off his helmet, showing he isn't a threat. It doesn't help much when you don't even know who he is
He explains himself after seeing your confused look and you both end up having a small conversation. It was nice until Bruce came in and pulled Jason away.
You never seem to meet Jason again
There were very few instances where you interacted with Tim. Even though you lived in the same house, Tim was always busy.
You’d both exchange small greetings when seeing each other in the hall but that was it. You didn't want to disturb him so you never stopped by his room
you hoped that when Tim had free time, the two could hang out. However, Tim always made plans that you couldn't fit into
Sometimes you would hear that Tim has been playing a game with his friends and you would play it but by yourself.
After a couple of years, Damian enters the family and you were so excited
Because Damian was new to the family, you thought it would be the perfect opportunity to bond with him
That didn't go well. He almost stabbed you
Your opinion of Damian was quick to go sour.
Damian's acts to show authority have gotten you scared of walking around the manor and frightened of animals. Specifically Titus.
It is quite unfortunate as you love animals and to have a dog in the family would bring you so much joy. Too bad Titus has attacked and chased you on multiple occasions
You didn't know what to do with the violence Damian had been taking out on you. You don't feel comfortable talking to Bruce and don't want to bother Alfred. This leads to you bottling up your emotions and locking yourself in your room
During your time, you spent reflecting on your life. Being in the manor isn't helping your mental health so it would be good to go outside more. Due to your constant attempts to bond with your family, you don't spend too much time with your friends from school
Seeing this as another perfect opportunity, you make plans with your friends to get out of the house and have a bit of self-care
Once the day comes, you quickly pack a small backpack and leave the house, only leaving a note for Alfred that says where you're at.
Finally getting some “fresh” air and being surrounded by those who feel more like family than your real family
You all have the best day and make plans for more get-togethers. 
It may not be the safest to be out so often but you’ve lived in Gotham your whole life, you know the safety procedures to stay safe. There isn't much news on you so people don't even recognize you as Bruce’s kid
Of course, something had to happen
You and your friends had just finished a fun day and you realize that your bike was stolen, meaning you don't have a way home. Your friends offered to take you home but you declined out of politeness. If something does go wrong, you ask your friends to call you to check up on you
Your walk home is longer than expected and it’s getting darker. As you walk through the streets of Gotham, you’re suddenly pulled into an alley and are threatened with a gun
There a three masked guys and one of them seems to have recognized you as Bruce’s kid, changing their plan to use you for ransom
You’re knocked out and taken to an abandoned building where you’re tied up to a pipe in the back
The kidnappers have a ransom letter and take it to the Wayne manor, including the small backpack you carried around
Unfortunately, Alfred was on his month-long vacation and Bruce was the one to receive the letter
He takes the time to contact "all" his kids and they're all perfectly fine and he doesn't recognize the backpack that was sent with the letter. There was a wallet but no ID card of any kind. The letter also didn't have a name on it.
Bruce brings up the case to the rest of the family but they agree that it may be a scam. 
The letter was likely from some desperate person who was trying to trick Bruce into giving money so it was put on the side while the family worked on a bigger case. 
Because of this, you’re held hostage for an unknown amount of days before the kidnappers get tired of waiting and shoot you in the gut out of frustration 
You’re filled with immense pain from the bullet before darkness consumes you.
More days pass before you wake up, still tied to a pipe and blood stained clothes
It seems your kidnappers had left your body behind rather than getting rid of it. You’ve been struggling with the rope since you have been taken and it was paying off because you can see that you can almost get your hands free.
Once you're out of the building, it is midnight. You immediately run back to the manor the moment you find a family path.
No one is there to notice you make your way back to your room. Because of how long it's been, you don't leave a trail of blood. Maybe some dirt but hopefully it won't be too hard to clean up
You debate on what action to take next. Looking in the mirror, the injury from the bullet is gone and you don't want to go to the hospital
One thing that is clear though is that you are extremely hungry and how dirty you feel. With this on your mind, you do your best to clean yourself up before going down to the kitchen
You don't feel comfortable talking to anyone so thankfully the rest of the family is busy at night,
Once you are sure no one is around, you take a bunch of snacks and hurry back to your room
In your room, you eat everything until you finally feel full. Hopefully, you don't just throw everything up because it feels so nice to finally have something in your stomach
Your nerves begin to relax and you truly take in the events that happened
How are they still alive? They were shot at and haven't had food for half a month. What happened? Did Bruce not get the ransom letter? Why did no one save you? Did your friends call you?
Quickly remembering your friends, you look for your phone but are unable to find it. Not wanting to worry your friends, you open up your laptop to contact your friends through there. You see that you've gotten multiple calls and messages from your friends and it honestly makes you happy, knowing that there were people that worried and cared about you. You quickly text your friends and tell them what happened (Not mentioning how you survived being shot)
During your chat, the topic changes to college stuff. Your senior year has just ended a couple of weeks ago and it would be good for you to move out and be closer to those that make you happy. Also, after the kidnapping, you don’t want to be near your current family. They were the reason you were kidnapped and didn’t even bother to help you
Your friends suggest going to college outside of Gotham, perhaps in Bludhaven.
After many years of being stuck in a family that does nothing but hurt you, you got an acceptance letter for a school in Bludhaven. You were so happy and had a small celebration with your friends. Unfortunately, none of your friends would be joining you but you couldn’t wait to truly be free. 
Alfred returns from his vacation and reviews all the work that he left behind, along with Bruce’s mail. He knows Bruce has likely already reviewed them but it helps Alfred get back on pace with his work
He finds the discarded ransom letter and immediately checks up on you.
When he goes to your room, he finds the room empty besides some items that you weren’t planning to bring to college with you. This worries Alfred more and goes to Bruce’s office to confront him about the letter.
Bruce is filled with immense guilt when he realizes he forgot that you existed and now you could be dead in an abandoned building. Him and the rest of your family completely forgot about you
Bruce has an emergency meeting with everyone where he explains the situation. Once a plan is set, they all go out in the night to find you. However, they only find loose restraints with dried-up blood and a broken phone.
When the family returns to the manor, Tim goes to his room to fix the phone, Bruce and Damian go to the Batcave to review the cameras, Dick and Jason decide to visit your room
With Alfred’s help, Dick and Jason find your room and take a look around. It isn’t the biggest and barely has anything in it. 
Jason finds some old and filled journals and looks through them. There is a checklist for school work, notes to yourself, and personal entries. He understands the emotions you put in your journal and wants to protect you. Especially when he reads your last entry about your kidnapping 
Dick looks at the decorations you have on the wall. There are some glow-in-the-dark stars, some posters from school events, etc. One of the posters is for a theater show and he wonders if you were a part of it. Either an actor or tech person, Dick wonders why he never heard about your shows. He attempts to take a poster off the wall but the tape used peeled some of the paint off the wall.
Bruce loads up the camera and looks at what happened the day the ransom letter was given to Bruce. You had this happy smile as you made sure you had everything you needed before going through the front door. About a week later, Bruce sees you on the camera, in bloodied clothes and completely exhausted. This brings a wave of relief to Bruce while Damian looks closely at the camera footage. The front of your shirt is covered in blood and has a hole in it, but you seem completely uninjured. 
The last thing the two see of you is you slowly taking your stuff out of the manor and officially moving out
Bruce and Damian find your room to update Dick and Jason on their findings.
They’re thankful that you’re alive but still need to see you in the flesh. Looking around your bedroom, there aren't many clues about where you have gone. 
Tim takes a few days to fix the damage on your phone. At the very least, he needs to save the data that was kept on the phone. After messing with a few parts of your phone, he transfers all the data to his computers.
Once everything is saved, Tim lets his curiosity get the best of him and looks through all of your stuff before informing the rest of the family. All your photos, text messages, etc. He sees all the calls and voicemails your friends sent you on the day you were kidnapped.
Tim continues to learn more about your interests and your efforts to spend time with the family. You ranting to your friends about only playing a game or reading a book because someone in the family has read or played it.
Tim ends up having a copy of all your data for personal use before speaking to the rest of the family
Your phone is finally fixed and Tim can use it to find the location of your laptop. All the way in Bludhaven
With new hope, the family begins their search for you
They just need to take you home and keep you safe
Forever
523 notes · View notes
wheres-mylove · 2 days
Text
ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader
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Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?
Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!
Word count: 2.8k
The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.
“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.
🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed
🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao
(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.
Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.
Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.
Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.
Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.
With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.
“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.
“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”
“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”
“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”
“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”
“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.
“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.
“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.
“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”
“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”
She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.
“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”
“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.
(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.
She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.
“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.
“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.
“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.
The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.
She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.
“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.
“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.
“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.
An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?
“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”
“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”
The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.
“‘M absolutely knackered.”
Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.
“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.
“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”
If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.
“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”
“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”
“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but her brother was currently listening only to himself.
“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”
“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”
“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”
“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.
Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”
“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.
“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.
“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.
A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.
“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”
Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.
Two new messages.
🐺: you looked so pretty today
🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!
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The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.
Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.
“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”
Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 
“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”
His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”
Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.
“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”
Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 
“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”
She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.
“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”
Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”
“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.
“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan admitted with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”
With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.
“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.
“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.
Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 
The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.
Of course they won.
The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.
“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.
“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”
“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”
Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.
The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.
And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.
“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.
Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.
“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.
“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”
(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.
“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.
“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”
“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”
Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.
“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.
“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.
“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.
The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”
Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”
Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.
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Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.
(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.
They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 
It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.
“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”
Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.
Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”
They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.
But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.
“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”
“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”
Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.
“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”
585 notes · View notes
gloomwitchwrites · 1 day
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Hello, hope you're a having a good day
Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu
Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.
So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning
Word Count: 2.4k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John "Soap" MacTavish
“Come on. Come at me.”
Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.
Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.
Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.
Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.
Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.
You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.
“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.
It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.
This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.
Fucking beautiful.
Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.
“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”
With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.
You’re completely trapped beneath him.
And in a completely inappropriate position.
From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.
Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.
“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.
“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.
The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.
“Soap—”
His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”
“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.
The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.
Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.
Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.
One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.
“You—”
“Are we interrupting something?”
You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.
Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.
You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.
But Johnny’s has.
With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.
“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.
The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.
Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.
“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.
“Hate me that much?” he teases.
“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”
Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.
“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”
He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.
Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.
Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.
You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.
As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.
You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.
Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.
“You’re improving,” he says.
“I have a good teacher.”
Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.
He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.
Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.
“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”
His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.
John Price
Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.
"Again."
Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."
"And you need practice," counters Price.
He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.
Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.
Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.
You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.
Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.
"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."
Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.
"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.
That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.
Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.
"You need to do better-"
"Captain."
Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.
"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."
Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.
"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.
"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.
"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."
Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.
“What?" you snap
"Pointers," he repeats.
"Oh, fuck off, Simon."
He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
"Your posture is terrible."
"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.
"Are you sassing me?"
"No."
Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”
“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”
“What was that?”
You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”
Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."
You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.
"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."
You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.
"Again,” nods Simon.
"Really?"
Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.
Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."
"What way?"
“Grab your knife and find out.”
Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.
Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.
Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.
"Again,” he growls.
Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.
"Again."
Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.
This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.
"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."
You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.
Awareness settles in.
Simon is all hardness over you.
"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.
His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.
“I have one,” he murmurs.
Bet I can guess.
“How do you want it?” he continues.
"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.
It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.
There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.
Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.
It's only a tease. You want the real thing.
"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.
Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.
That one. Got it.
“We should—”
A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.
“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.
He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”
You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”
Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”
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Text
A bit mushy - Lewis Hamilton
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Let's see how Lewis and his wife do in a Couple's Interview.
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: none
wordcount: +3k
a/n: Fun and light Lewis for the win, again thanks a million times to @greedyjudge2 for the idea and for some of the questions, I know I don't usually write carefree Lewis but it's my favorite ❤️❤️
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
_______________________________________
The room was buzzing—cameras being adjusted, light stands tweaked and a handful of crew members chatting as they waited for everything to come together.
Lewis sat comfortably on the low-slung, cushy armchair beside his wife, his hand resting casually on the back of her seat tracing lazy circles on her back. They looked impossibly relaxed, as if the cameras were invisible, and this was just another day at home.
The director, a laid-back guy with a coffee stain on his jeans and a clipboard that looked way too serious for the vibe of the shoot, strolled over.
He was juggling his phone and an energy drink, clearly a man trying to keep his cool while wrangling two of the most charismatic people in motorsports.
“Okay, so this should be easy” he started, his voice overly casual like he almost didn’t want to disturb the couple’s chemistry “No serious stuff. No PR-approved answers. We’re here for the real deal. Just answering a few questions about each other, nothing too scandalous. Think... fun, but, y’know, juicy enough to make people smile.”
Lewis’s wife, legs crossed and leaning slightly into her husband’s space, raised an eyebrow. “Define juicy” a sly smile tugging at her lips.
The director chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, like... light-hearted scandal. Stuff people don’t already know. Maybe embarrass him a little—" he motioned to Lewis—"but in a cute way.”
Lewis shot the director a mock glare “Right, you don’t really need to ask her that” he said, his voice dripping with good-humored sarcasm.
His wife snorted, turning to face him with a grin. “Promise not to dig too deep. Unless we’re talking about those sneakers you wore to the beach...”
Lewis groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. “Not the beach sneakers again! One time and I’m branded for life.”
The crew around them snickered, and even the sound guy adjusted his headphones to cover a grin.
There was something about the way they bickered that had the whole room leaning in, as if everyone was witnessing the most intimate, casual conversation between two people who just fit.
The director, fully entertained, motioned to the cameraman to get ready. “Alright, alright. Let’s save the good stuff for the shoot. Remember, it’s just you two being yourselves. No need to put on a show.”
His wife reached over and squeezed Lewis’s hand. “No promises.”
As they shared a quiet laugh, the subtle touches and glances between them were enough to make anyone nearby smile. There was no need for grand gestures—the way they leaned into each other, how their conversations flowed effortlessly, said more than any scripted moment ever could.
They had that kind of love that made everyone else feel like they were in on something out of ordinary, just by watching.
The cameras zoomed in slowly as the couple got comfortable in their seats. Lewis leaned back, his arm still slung casually around his wife’s chair, his body slight angled so he could face her better, and she tucked one leg underneath her, turning toward him like she always did when they were in the middle of one of their many quiet conversations.
Except this wasn’t quite so quiet. The cameras were rolling now, and the world was about to get a glimpse into how they were with each other.
The director's voice came through, just loud enough to hear but never intrusive.
“Alright, let’s get this rolling. What embarrassing fashion trend did you take part in?”
Lewis immediately leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if he was preparing for battle. “I’ll own this one. Bandanas. Wore them with everything back in the day. Thought I was some kind of rockstar or something.”
She tilted her head, eyebrows shooting up. “Bandanas?” she asked, feigning surprise. Her eyes glimmered with mischief, and she leaned closer, as if letting the audience in on a secret. “You sure it wasn’t the Timberlands?”
Lewis threw his head back with a groan, already knowing where this was headed. “Not the Timbs,” he mumbled, shaking his head like he was in actual pain.
“Yeah, the Timbs” she said, fully grinning now. “Let me remind you, you used to wear them with everything. Jeans, tracksuits, shorts, suits—”
Lewis raised a hand, stopping her, though there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I still stand by those, alright? I don’t care what anyone says. Timbs are timeless.”
She rolled her eyes playfully, patting his leg. “Sure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
The banter between them came so naturally, it was easy to forget there were cameras pointed right at them. The crew standing around had mostly stopped what they were doing, some watching the couple with amused smirks, others clearly touched by how playful yet undeniably affectionate they were towards each other.
“Okay, next question: What first attracted you to each other?”
Lewis’s wife leaned back, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to come up with something profound. “His sense of style,” she deadpanned, lips twitching as she fought back a grin.
Lewis blinked, his head cocked to the side. “Seriously? You were just attacking my Timbs? That guy’s sense of style?”
For a moment, she held her ground, lips pursed in mock-seriousness. But after a few seconds of staring at him—his bewildered look, the way he was just waiting for her to crack—she broke. Her laugh wasn’t exactly loud but it filled the room.
“Okay, fine!” She reached out, her hand landing on his thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. “It was your eyes.”
Lewis’s eyebrows shot up as he gave her a soft smile. He just stared at her, thrown off by her sudden honesty.
She smiled, her gaze softening too as she looked at him. “They’re intense, you know? Like you see things really deeply. The way you look at the world... it’s impossible not to notice.”
Lewis was quiet for a beat, his usual witty retorts momentarily forgotten. His hand moved instinctively to cover hers on his leg, squeezing it gently. “Well, damn” he finally said, his voice quieter than before, almost reverent.
The room around them seemed to still. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made it feel like they were the only ones there, like everyone else had faded away.
“Next one—‘On what occasion have you lied to me?’”
Lewis’s eyes went wide, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced at his wife. “Uh… Remember when I blamed Roscoe for loosing up your house shoes?”
Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in disbelief. “No. You’re telling me you wore my house shoes, Lewis?!”
He winced, trying to play it cool. “I mean… It was just that one time! They looked comfy, and my feet were cold. I didn’t think you’d notice.”
“Oh, I noticed,” she said, crossing her arms. “I just thought Roscoe had lied on them, not that your big feet had wrecked them!”
The crew chuckled, sensing the playful tension building between them.
“Roscoe was the perfect scapegoat…” Lewis defended himself.
“My poor baby” she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “You threw him under the bus!”
“He didn’t seem to mind,” Lewis replied with a smirk, leaning closer to her, his tone turning softer. “But hey, I bought you new ones”
She raised a brow, clearly amused but still pretending to be serious.
“Have I ever made you jealous?”
Lewis leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk creeping across his face as he quipped in before she could. “She has, yes.”
His wife’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? When exactly?”
He didn’t answer immediately, taking his time like he always did when he wanted to build up the suspense. She leaned in; her curiosity evident in the way her lips quirked. “Come on, give me the details.”
Lewis shook his head, clearly amused. “The silver dress” he said, voice low.
For a second, she didn’t react, clearly trying to place the memory. Then, like a lightbulb flicking on, her eyes widened in recognition. “Ohhh, that night!”
Her laughter exploded from her, loud and sudden, catching even the crew off guard. She leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach slightly as she laughed, while Lewis sat there, arms still crossed, trying his best to look annoyed but clearly failing.
“That night was something” she said between laughs, her eyes shimmering with tears of amusement.
Lewis sighed, shaking his head. “I’m glad you think it was so funny.”
“Oh, babe, you were so grumpy” she teased, nudging him with her foot.
Lewis didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at her with that mix of exasperation and fondness that made it clear that, no matter what she did, she was always going to get away with it.
“What’s a song that reminds you of each other?”
This time, she didn’t even hesitate. “A Life Like This by Nao.”
Lewis’s face softened immediately. “Why that one?”
She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual teasing grin. This one was softer, more intimate. “Because... before you, I was just going through life, you know? Things were just happening, and I wasn’t really... present. Then you came along, and it was like everything shifted. It was like my Saturn return was finally over, and I could just... breathe.”
For a moment, Lewis said nothing. His face betrayed him—no amount of his typical coolness could hide the way her words hit him.
He leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re really gonna get me emotional, huh?” he murmured, his voice so low only she and the mic could pick up on his voice.
She just smiled; her eyes full of love. “That’s the plan.”
The crew exchanged looks and quiet smiles. It was impossible not to feel the connection between them, like they were watching something precious unfold right in front of them.
“What’s something you wish you did more often?”
Lewis leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Lazy mornings.”
She smiled, nodding. “Yeah?”
“Yeah” he said softly, his eyes on her. “No alarms, no schedules, no meetings. Just us. Laying in bed, talking, laughing... not worrying about what we have to do next.”
She nodded again, her smile turning wistful. “Yeah.”
Their eyes met, and once again, the room seemed to shrink around them, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble.
“Okay love birds, next up ‘What is the most treasured possession that the other has given you?’”
She paused, tapping her chin as if she really had to think about it, though the answer was clearly already on her mind. “The necklace you gave me on our third date.”
The director blinked, looking between them. “Third date?”
“Oh yeah” she nodded, leaning back in her chair, eyes sparkling as she shot Lewis a teasing look. “He was whipped by then.”
Lewis rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “You make it sound like I was proposing marriage.”
“You weren’t far off, though” she teased, reaching for the necklace hanging delicately around her neck. “He gave me this beautiful pendant, that he designed himself, by the way, and I remember thinking, ‘Okay, this guy is serious.’”
Lewis chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I knew what I wanted.”
“That you did” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.
“Yeah” he grinned. “No point in playing games.”
She looked down at the necklace again, her voice softening. “It’s not just the necklace though. It’s what it represented. He was showing me he wasn’t just there for fun—he was there for real.”
Lewis met her gaze, his smile quieter now, filled with affection. “I meant it then, and I mean it now.”
“When did you first know that you were in love?”
This time, she was the one to hesitate, a mischievous glint in her eye. “In love with whom?” she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
Lewis groaned, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, don’t start.”
She giggled, clearly enjoying every second of his exasperation. “I knew I loved you when we went through about a dozen paint stores in Milan looking for the perfect shade of gold for that painting.”
Lewis raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, didn’t remember that.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could’ve just mixed the colors myself and gotten something close. But you were so invested in finding the exact match that I just... I kept going. And I knew it then. I knew I loved you because you cared about the little things, the details that most people would overlook.”
Lewis stared at her; his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile that seemed to melt the room around them.
“What’s your favorite memory of the two of you?”
Lewis leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That time we missed the flight in Paris.”
She let out a groan, breaking the feeling in the room, she already knew where this story was headed. “Nooo, not that!”
“Yep,” Lewis said with a smile. “So we were in Paris, right? And someone—” he pointed at her playfully, “—was absolutely convinced that the subway would get us to the airport faster than any car could.”
“It would’ve!” she protested, already laughing. “The traffic was insane!”
“Yeah sure” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So there we were, dragging our bumps through the subway stations, hopping from one line to the next. Every station was like a maze, and we were so lost. I kept telling you, ‘Let’s just get a cab,’ but nooo, you were determined.”
She shook her head, smiling. “It was an adventure!”
“It was chaos and we missed the flight by hours” Lewis corrected, his voice teasing but fond.
“But honestly? It’s one of my favorite memories. You were so carefree, so determined, so in the present. We were lost in Paris but we weren’t lost within ourselves.”
Her smile softened, her eyes holding his for a long moment. “You never told me that was your favorite memory.”
“Yeah” he said quietly, his voice more sincere now. “I felt like we could just... slow down. Be present. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me.”
For a moment, they were silent, the weight of his words settling between them. The room around them was so still that the soft hum of the cameras was the only sound. The crew watched them closely, as if holding their collective breath.
She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, and whispered just loud enough for the microphones to catch “I think that’s my favorite memory now, too.”
Lewis smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, and for a few seconds, it was like the cameras weren’t even there. It was just them, lost in a shared memory, a world of their own.
The director, sensing the intimacy of the moment, cleared his throat gently.
“Alright, now to wrap this up ‘When can we expect little Hamiltons running around?”
Both Lewis and his wife exchanged quick glances, and almost in unison, they burst out laughing—only this time, their laughter had a bit of an edge, like they knew something the room didn’t.
Lewis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together. “Ooooh, good one.”
“You had to go there, didn’t you?” she added, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. “Real smooth.”
The crew, sensing the couple was playing coy, leaned in just a bit, waiting for a juicy response. But instead, Lewis leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Well, you never know, right?”
His wife smirked, glancing at him sideways, playing along. “When you least expect it”
The director, not quite satisfied, pressed on. “Any plans in the near future?”
“Oh, besides, like, tomorrow’s plans?” she quipped, keeping the teasing energy alive.
Lewis chimed in again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We’ve got a lot of plans. Travel, Roscoe’s bath time…”
The director chuckled, shaking his head. “Dodging the question, I see.”
Lewis gave a knowing look to the camera, adding one final, cryptic comment. “We’ll let you know when it happens... maybe.”
And with that, they both smiled at the cameras, their laughter filling the air as the director called “cut” for the final time.
The room gradually came back to life, the hum of equipment being packed up and crew members chatting quietly filling the air. The couple stayed seated, though, still caught in the gentle pull of their shared moment, almost unaware of the bustling scene around them.
Lewis exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced at his wife, his arm instinctively pulling her a little closer. She smiled, still leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with his fingers.
“That was a bit mushy, wasn’t it?” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice, though there was warmth in her eyes as she gazed up at him.
Lewis smirked, brushing his thumb gently against her arm. “Just a little. But you started it.”
She chuckled softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Tou’re not usually one for getting all sentimental on camera.”
He shrugged lightly, but there was no real defensiveness in his posture.
She smiled, her heart swelling at the softness in his gestures. “Good. I like you better that way.”
She sighed softly, sitting up a little and stretching her arms out with a satisfied groan. “People are going to think we’re a pair of softies.”
Lewis chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Let them.”
She smiled, sitting back in her chair and looking at him with a tenderness that only deepened as she reached out, her hand cupping his cheek for a brief moment. “I guess it’s not the worst thing to be.”
He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them and looked straight at her. “Nah, it’s not.”
Unbeknownst to them, the cameras were still rolling—just a little, a behind-the-scenes shot meant to capture those moments of candidness. The crew tried to keep their distance, giving the couple their space, but every now and then, someone would glance over, a quiet smile tugging at their lips. There was something undeniably magnetic about Lewis and his wife, the way they moved around each other, the way they fit together.
Without thinking, he stood up and extended a hand to her, pulling her up from her seat. As she stood, she let out a small laugh, one that was soft and filled with affection. But before she could fully straighten up, Lewis slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest in a gentle, protective embrace.
For a second, she stiffened—more out of surprise than anything—but then she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was a simple gesture, nothing extravagant, but in that moment, it was everything.
“Alright, lover boy” she murmured, her voice laced with contentment. “What’s all this about?”
“Just holding you” he replied simply, his voice low and soothing, the kind of tone he used when it was just the two of them, no audience, no pressure. “Feels like we haven’t had a minute to ourselves in forever.”
She smiled as she found her place on the crock of his neck, her fingers absently tracing circles on the back of his neck “You’ll get them,” she promised quietly. “We’ll make time.”
Eventually, Lewis pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know,” he started, his tone teasing “about those Timbs.”
She groaned, playfully swatting at his chest. “I thought we agreed to leave the Timbs in the past.”
“I never agreed to that” he grinned, tightening his arms around her playfully. “I’m still rocking them, remember?”
She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her. “Well, at least one of us has evolved.”
He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “Maybe. But you love me anyway.”
“I do,” she said softly, the sincerity of the words wrapping around them both like a warm blanket. “I really do.”
______________________________________________________________
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reidmania · 1 day
Text
opposites attract | s. reid
summary; spencer would give the world to be your person, even after you argue that you two are too different.
warnings; fem reader, pining!spencer, lowkey pining!reader, bombshell!reader, rejection, reader is described as confident and more of a black cat, insecurities, doubting, a bad date mentioned, happy ending, spencer lowkey gets frustrated, reader has tattoos.
an; messy and switches perspectives whoopsies. Idk how many words, a lot. Too many.
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Two years. That was how long Spencer had been a complete and utter mess. Two years since his brain didn’t quite function the same, he remained intelligent, sure, but god so incomplete. Two years since you started at the BAU, two years since he met you.
You were out of his league. He had decided it the moment he laid eyes on you. You were stunning, absolutely perfect in anyones gaze. You were everything he could ever want and more, not just physically. Your laugh, your voice, the way you spoke to everyone around you, gentle, warm. The way you sat quietly in the corner most days, not because you felt out of place, nor shy, not because you didn’t enjoy being there, but just because no matter where in a room you were, your presence was known. Especially to Spencer.
He tried to pretend that he didn’t fall completely in love with you the first time the two of you ever had a conversation and you spoke to him with a smile, listened to him, he tried to pretend the scent of your perfume didn’t make him lightheaded, and the sight of your tattoo that he only saw on occasion’s didn’t make him wonder if you had more, what made you get it, was there meaning?
Spencer wanted to know everything about you, he wanted to live in your brain and know your every like and dislike, what made you smile a little wider, what made you unable to stop laughing, what your favourite drink was, what colour you liked the most, where your family was from, your middle name.
Spencer would stop the world to know you.
That was impossible to hide, even two years later. He tried, so many times to get your attention, to be the subject of your fascination. It didn’t help that every-time you looked in his direction his skin grew ten temperatures too warm and his head spun.
He tried asking you out, twice. Sort of.
The first time was too subtle, too rambling and hidden in the mix of stutters and hot cheeks, fidgeting hands. Because you were looking at him, with a gaze so intense and caring, patient.
How was he ever suppose to talk when you were looking at him like that? Like there was something that made him worth the gravity the warmth in your eyes held.
“Would you date me?” It was blurted out on a Tuesday afternoon, you were standing beside him as the buzz of the bullpen had calmed down, your gaze was focused on reorganising the files on his desk, his gaze was on you. You were reorganising because you didn’t like the way he had done it, and it had been ‘bugging’ you for weeks.
Spencer loved the way his files were organised, but he loved you more.
It was stupid, he didn’t even mean to say it. It was out of place leaving his lips and he knew it the moment your head turned towards him and a sweet laugh left your lips, not mocking him, god you would never. It was a laugh of shock, confusion, maybe even surprise.
“Are you asking me out?” You asked, raising your eyebrow slightly as you met his eyes. His cheeks heated before he could help it, eyes went wide because he had no idea what he was doing.
“What- I- no.” His voice was an octave higher, a tell sign he was nervous, if you needed any more tell signs between the fidgeting of his hands, his bright pink cheeks and his avoidant gaze. You smiled as you shook your head, looking back at the files on his desk, he watched your hand as your ran your finger along them once they were organised neatly, anyone else he might’ve cringed at the sight, but it was you.
“I don’t think so” You had mumbled in response and Spencer felt the world shift into an imbalance. You said it so casually. He didn’t know if his heart was beating too fast or if it was breaking. You turned your head back to look at him, a frown on your lips when you saw the frown that had snuck its way onto his features before he could even realise.
“Not because you aren’t great. Or attractive. You are — You definitely are. I just think we are too different.” You said. His eyebrows knitted together as he met your eyes. He hated the fact you were frowning, he hated the fact he was frowning. He hated what you had just said, god he loved you.
“Right” he didn’t know what to say.
“Spence” You spoke through a warm huff of laughter, shaking your head as you twisted your body to face him fully, your hip leaning against the desk as you crossed your arms over your chest. He watched your hair fall down the sides of your face, over your shoulders. He wondered if you had changed your shampoo since the last time, the only time you had hugged him a few weeks ago, when he had gotten the chance to breath it in, and then it was all he thought about for weeks.
You smiled at him and it was contagious, despite the ache in his chest and overwhelming sense of illness in his stomach, you were smiling. “I think you’re amazing, i always have” you started and his cheeks warmed more. “But we are complete opposite’s.”
He wanted to argue you. Say that he could change and be more like you, more like the guys he had seen pick you up after work, he could be whatever you wanted. He could be someone. Someone to you.
But he didn’t.
That was the last time Spencer had attempted to ask you out, you never bought it up. You never questioned it again, you didn’t push you ask why he wanted to know. Spencer remained sickeningly in love with everything about you, you remained pretending to not notice.
Why were you here? You couldn’t quite remember or find the time to think about it properly between the noise surrounding the fancy restaurant you were in and the sickening long rant the boy in front of you was going on. Something about a business, something about saving it, something egotistical and sickeningly boring.
The date starts out fine. It’s all small talk at first—work, hobbies, the usual pleasantries. But soon, you realize that Mark has a lot to say. About himself. A lot.
“And then I closed the deal,” he says, recounting some work story about how he single-handedly saved his company from financial ruin. He leans back in his chair, smiling like he’s just told you the most fascinating thing in the world. You nod politely, but your mind starts to wander. His voice fades into the background as you think about something else, someone else.
Spencer.
You wonder what he’s doing right now. Probably at home, curled up with a book, or maybe he’s watching a documentary. You can almost picture him, pacing around his apartment, muttering facts to himself about some obscure topic that no one but him finds interesting. But you love that about him. He’s so passionate about everything, even the things that most people would overlook. And he’s never trying to show off. He just loves sharing what he knows.
You try to pay attention to the guy in front of you, you really really do. But god he is so boring. You wonder how quickly you could get one of your friends to come save you from this horror of a date. You wonder how long you would have to hide in the bathroom for before he disappeared.
Mark’s voice pulls you back to reality. “So, what do you think?” he asks.
“Hmm?” You blink, realizing you’ve missed the last five minutes of whatever he was talking about.
“I was saying,” he repeats, a little slower this time, “I just think it’s amazing how people like me can juggle so many things at once. Don’t you think?”
You smile, but it’s strained. “Sure, that’s impressive.”
As the date drags on, you start to notice little things. Like the way Mark talks to the waiter, snapping his fingers for attention, barely looking up from his phone when the waiter brings the food. He doesn’t say thank you. Not once. It’s subtle, but it grates on you. You find yourself cringing, wondering if anyone else notices.
He was much more interesting when he asked you out a few nights ago at a bar, when you were drunk. Why had you agreed? Maybe drunk you saw something sober you didn’t. Or maybe drunk you just saw a male who was conventionally attractive and made you laugh. You wondered how low the bar was
You didn’t have a lot of time to wonder before you heard your name from behind you, your head spun and you almost cried with gratefulness when you saw Penelope standing there, a wide grin on her face, and then Spencer standing beside her, he offered you a gentle shy wave that made your heart warm.
“Oh my gosh! Do you guys want to come sit?” You asked, praying they said yes, praying that Penelope noticed the wide urgent look in your eyes and understood that you were begging. You were genuinely begging for a conversation about anything other than Mark’s biggest accomplishments.
“Oh- We don’t want to interrupt.” Spencer mumbled, looking between you and Mark, the two of you sitting opposite sides of the booth you were in. You noticed the look in Spencer’s eye, you knew what it was. He didn’t want to sit there while you were on a date with someone else. Clearly he misread the urgency in your gaze.
“No! Mark doesn’t mind? Do you mind Mark?” You asked, spinning your head around to face Mark who was confused on the two people and why they were talking to you. Why they had interrupted him. You had to hold back the urge to roll your eyes.
“Uh..” he started, you cut him off. “He doesn’t mind. Come sit.” You shuffled over to make room for the two.
Penelope slides into the booth beside you, while Spencer takes the seat across from you, next to Mark. He looks nervous, his fingers tapping against the edge of the table, but he offers you a small, shy smile.
“What are you guys doing here?” you ask, trying to suppress the excitement bubbling up inside you.
“Oh, we were just nearby, and I figured we’d grab something to eat,” Penelope says.
Spencer fidgets with his napkin, glancing at you, then back at the table. “I-I was telling Penelope about this, uh, documentary I watched the other night. It’s about the history of the subway system in New York. I think you’d really like it.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”
He nods, his eyes lighting up as he starts to explain. “Yeah, it’s fascinating, actually. They had to navigate all these geological challenges, and the engineering behind it is incredible. I know you mentioned once that you’re interested in architecture, and I thought you might appreciate how they designed the stations.”
You stare at him for a moment, surprised. You don’t even remember telling him that you liked architecture, but he did. And now, here he is, rambling about a documentary he thinks you’d enjoy, not because he’s trying to impress you, but because he genuinely thought you’d find it interesting.
Meanwhile, Mark is looking more and more uncomfortable, clearly not enjoying the conversation. He cuts in, talking over Spencer to launch into another story about himself, but you’re barely listening anymore. Instead, you’re watching Spencer, noticing how different he is from Mark. Spencer, who’s always so considerate, who listens more than he talks, who looks at you like you’re the most important person in the room, even when he’s nervous.
And then there’s Mark, who hasn’t asked you a single question all night, who’s rude to the waiter, and who’s more interested in hearing himself talk than getting to know you.
“I think I might head off..” Mark muttered, clearly annoyed at the fact you had not only been interrupted on your date, but also frustrated that you were paying more attention to Spencer than him. You couldn’t care less.
“Oh okay! Have a good night” You smiled, sickeningly nice as he shuffled his way past Spencer to leave the table. He glanced at you once, not saying anything before he walked away.
“He was an asshole!!” Penelope bursts out into laughter the minute Mark was out of earshot, you immediately joined her laughter while Spencer remained quiet, shuffling around on the now empty side of the booth.
“Those are the type of guys you go out with?” He asked, his voice was quiet, almost offended. You wish you understood why when you stopped laughing at met his gaze. You opened your mouth to talk as the tension around the table grew.
“Hey! Don’t judge!” She gasped out, pointing her finger dramatically at Spencer, clearly not noticing his underlying feelings and why he had even said anything, you did. “It’s slim pickings out here!!”
Spencer hummed, tapping his fingers against the table as he avoided meeting your gaze. You frowned slightly. Soon enough the conversation fell back into rhythm, flowing like it did any other time. They ate, you paid since it was your date. Then Penelope left.
You stood outside of the restaurant, looking around the busy streets. “How are you getting home?” Spencer asked, his gaze meeting yours as you tilted your head upwards to look at him, you couldn’t not smile. It was impossible not to smile around Spencer.
“Uh- Walking. I walked. It’s really not far.” You nodded to support your words as you buried your hands inside the warmth of your pockets. You had been in a state since Spencer had gotten there, a state you couldn’t quite explain. Silently lost in thought, a state of confusion? Maybe realisation.
“I’ll walk you home. Its late.” He said it like it was a no brainer. Like it was the most obvious thing for him to do. No date you had ever been on had offered you walk you home.
Every time Spencer speaks, you feel yourself softening, smiling without even realizing it. His nervous energy, the way he fumbles over his words, it’s all so endearing. He’s not trying to prove anything to you. He just wants to share the things he loves with you, and it’s the sweetest thing.
“Okay.” You breathe out the silent agreement before your feet find rhythm next to Spencer’s as you walk down the street, the post lights causing an orange glow across the ground, across his face.
“Theres a study.” Spencer started, his breathe coming out warm against the cold air causing a fog of steam to follow his breath, you watched it for an moment before your eyes flickered to the side of his face, you’re still walking, his gaze doesn’t meet yours.
“That uh— Shows that opposites attract, it’s more of a theory, since scientifically it doesn’t actually work like that — although negatives are attracted to positives if you’re looking at electricity — but uh- People believe that a lot of people are attracted to people opposite them, because each person offers something the other lacks, making the relationship feel more complete.. Majority of relationships that are built off of opposites work better than people who are too similar because theres more of a balance.. its chaotic but, it uh — it works.”
He was nervous. You could tell. Your breath hitched slightly as he spoke, as he brought it up again. Your mind tried to process the overload of information he had mumbled out. You tried to process it.
“So scientifically we wouldn’t work.” You huffed out. He laughed. Genuinely laugh, it was breathy and quiet but genuine and it made your heart warm.
“Technically— but theoretically—”
You cut him off, a rare occurrence, “I thought you were a science guy.” You mumbled.
He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “I think I am just a you guy.”
You didn’t know what to say. It was sweet in a way that your brain couldn’t process. He was going against everything he believed to be correct because he wanted you?
“I thought data and statistics are the most reliable source of information.” You mumbled the response, words he had said, probably months ago. Why were you fighting him on this? Why were you fighting yourself on this? You weren’t sure.
“Sure; most of the time. But they are subjective. Especially when talking about psychologically. Each couple, each set of people — they’re different.” He said, his gaze didn’t meet yours. You pulled your eyes away to focus on the street in front of you. You were getting closer to your house, yet part of you wanted to stay right here.
“You think we could work?” You asked. It was a whisper.
He paused, you could see him nod in your peripheral. “I do. I’d make it work, i’d do anything.” Maybe it came out more desperate than he had intended, you found it sweet.
You found him sweet.
“Spencer” you paused your movements and his stopped with yours. His body turned to face you as you looked up at him. His eyes were pleading, desperate, hoping. It almost made your heart ache at the slight fear in them, that you were going to maybe reject him again.
But you found him sweet.
“Id date you.” You answered the question he had asked maybe months ago now, you didn’t realise until now that you had conveniently stopped outside your house. You turned your head to look at the front door before back at Spencer.
“Can i- uh- Will you- I-“ He stuttered and your heart warmed at his nervous attempt to ask you out.
“Yes.” You answered gently, saving him the hassle. Maybe being different was a good thing. Maybe you could beat the statistics that proved otherwise.
Maybe opposites did attract.
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ikeuverse · 1 day
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OPPOSITES — p.jongseong
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PAIRING: ceo!jay x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, smut, a little angst WC: 12.1k+
WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, slightly drunk, a brief argument. kissing, foreplay, (almost) dry sex. lmk if i've forgotten anything.
SYNOPSIS: jay was the most serious ceo anyone could meet and remember, but not when you were around. while he had a difficult smile, you captivated anyone with your cheerful and relaxed manner. one night, he decided to take you into his world, the business dinner, but you didn't know if it was a good idea.
NOTES: a little treat i wrote for my little sweetheart @bluej4ym <3 to thank you for all your care and for always being here for me. you deserve more stories (which i'll write later, spoiler yeah) and what's more, you deserve only good things bc you're like that, full of good things. thanks for your friendship, i love you very much. and i hope you enjoy the story as much as i do.
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Working in a multinational company has two aspects that you can't avoid. First was the growth of shares and partners, dealing with people at the top, and seeing the numbers rise as you closed really important deals. Secondly, there was the gossip that went around the corridors of the company, even more so if you were the CEO.
Jongseong could boast of having a major multinational, being a billionaire, and having shares rising by the second. He took the trouble to congratulate all the employees for their hard work and dedication while they were in that building, giving their all so that the numbers would rise even higher. But Jongseong couldn't control what they said here and there, especially about him.
Not that it was something he needed to care about, like hearing that he was a really serious and scary boss… Well, he could take that title with ease. Jongseong wasn't one for easy smiles and small talk, saying only what was necessary to his employees and being strictly professional and polite. Greeting passers-by regardless of whether they were having a good day or not. But his facade was cold and methodical, as you'd usually hear.
What Jongseong didn't like to deal with was the gossip that arose after he met you. Introducing you as a romantic partner was something he didn't want publicly at the beginning of the relationship, private life being exclusively for the two of you. As well as keeping you out of the eyes of employees he knew would be the talk of the town, Jongseong also liked to have all the time in the world for you. But the town was too small, he had thought when he heard one of the employees say, the next day when he met the two of you in a restaurant.
“The boss is dating a very beautiful woman” he'd boast, having good taste, having heard how beautiful you were and the compliments the young man made on your appearance, although he was a little annoyed that he'd looked at you so much to find out about your physical characteristics.
“Does he really have a heart? I mean, how is he supposed to treat this girl when he's so serious all the time?” well, Jongseong wasn't expecting that comment.
That's what had been hammering at him for so long, not denying any gossip that involved you and him specifically. Since your employees knew, there was no hiding it. This led him to take the liberty of asking you to come to the company a few days a week. Walking hand in hand with you down the corridors or holding your shoulder to guide you, or with his hand on your waist talking about how the evening would go at home and what he was planning for the two of you to have for dinner.
He didn't need any kind of validation from anyone, but he also didn't know how to explain how annoyed he was at the thought of people thinking he didn't pay enough attention to you. Just like you, the woman who stole his heart just by the simple way she treated him. You were unlike anyone he had ever met, and Jongseong would spend hours talking about you and how much you meant to him if it were possible. He would replace the weekly stock meeting just to talk about you.
“Mr. Park?” the voice interrupted him slightly as he rambled on about you and how he felt about you. His eyes left the computer that was open on the stock spreadsheets and quickly went to the door. Jongseong's secretary stared at him with a small smile without showing her teeth, politely and discreetly “I have some papers for you to sign, can I take them?”
“Of course, come in” he settled into his chair, waiting for the secretary to walk towards him and place the papers on the table. Jongseong rolled his eyes at the small mountain of sheets she had placed there and his eyes quickly went to the corner of the desk. A small picture frame was turned towards him, without anyone being able to make out what was there. A photo of you. The first picture he took on the analog camera you had at home. Jongseong hadn't tinkered with these things for a long time, ever since his camera had broken and, with the hustle and bustle of life and work, he'd never thought to fix it. But you had one, and it was in perfect condition. Capturing it was no effort when you were graceful to the extreme and your beauty had been captured without any problem.
He smiled so openly at the photo that he didn't notice that the secretary was still standing in front of his desk. Her gaze followed where he was looking and, curiously, she tried not to bend down to notice the photo, although she had a slight notion that it might be a picture of him or someone he loved very much.
“Do you need anything else, Mr. Park?” she asked shyly, and he noticed the astonishment on her face when he connected the dots… Jongseong had smiled openly for the first time in front of someone other than you or his parents.
“No…” he huffed, picking up one of the sheets from the pile of papers and looking at the written lines to try and disguise how fervently his cheeks were burning “You can go now, miss. Thank you.”
Just as she entered, greeting Jongseong on her way out, the door closed and left the man alone in the room again. It wasn't a big deal to smile like that in front of someone else, but he found it strange and felt that he had let his guard down for an employee he only had a professional relationship with. Jongseong thought he only had to show that side to everyone he worked with, he had no reason to be affectionate like that.
Apart from you, the only person who broke this kind of protocol was someone he knew would be coming into his office in the next few minutes. And without thinking to wait for a call or a message, or even a sign that he was coming in, the door was flung open.
The playful smile on Jaeyun's lips indicated that he had heard something in the corridors of the company.
“What's up, Mr. wide smile?” he hummed after closing the door, his hands in the pockets of his dress pants as he walked slowly over to Jongseong's desk.
“Are they commenting yet?” he snorted, throwing the paper on the table and stretching back in his chair.
“She said you have a beautiful smile” Jaeyun bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing at his best friend's pained expression as he walked over to the table and sat down in the armchair right in front of his best friend and company owner “I think you should smile more, you know?”
“And I think you should fuck off—”
“Hey, is that how you talk to the vice president? How disrespectful” the other pretended to be offended, his posture mimicking Jongseong's in the chair, throwing all his weight on the back of the armchair while sighing heavily.
Sim Jaeyun had been Jongseong's best friend for as long as he could remember. Remembering Jaeyun running around at company parties when neither of them knew how to add two and two together. He had a tooth missing when he greeted Jongseong for the first time and asked him to play in the middle of a gigantic crystal fountain in a particularly large hall. When Jongseong and Jaeyun broke the statue and fell into the fountain, getting wet from head to toe, it was there that he knew for sure that this boy would be his best friend.
That's why he had asked him to be vice-president of the company because there was no one better than Jaeyun to help him with his business. He had always been by Jongseong's side and seen him through all the good and bad times, where Jongseong wasn't ashamed to be vulnerable around Jaeyun, let alone show the side of him that almost no one knew about.
That's why it was impossible to remain serious around his best friend, even in the workplace. Jongseong didn't like being in the same environment as Jaeyun for too long, especially in meetings, because he knew that at some point his best friend would say something that would make him crack up and laugh at the same time. That was one of the reasons why the two of them hardly had any meetings together, even if Jaeyun did manage to get them together once in a while to talk to some employees.
“Do you know what I was thinking?” Jaeyun asked.
“And you were thinking?” the other joked, receiving Jaeyun's middle finger affectionately and a grimace soon after, making him laugh jokingly.
“We have less than a week until the Swedish partner's welcome dinner” he sighed happily. Jaeyun liked dinners because the buffet was always very well served and he knew that someone always remembered to put out the appetizers he liked. Good champagne and he would judge people's clothes along with you because he knew Jongseong would take it. Jaeyun was sure of it, he made friends with you so easily that it was like a perfect fit that you had come into his best friend's life. Because Jongseong would never say anything about anyone else, even though she was completely underdressed. But Jaeyun knew that you would drop a comment and laugh at something he said because you and he were Jongseong's karma. In a good way.
“And what does that mean? We're going together as a couple again?” it was Jongseong's turn to ask, making his best friend roll his eyes.
“First of all— Ew” he pretended to shudder with disgust, but there were countless times that the two of them went to dinner together. One because neither of them had any thoughts of dating or anything like that, and two because it was cooler to be with his best friend “Secondly, I thought you'd take Y/n. You have to take her!”
“Why?” Jaeyun noticed that Jongseong hesitated a little. His posture shifted in his chair as he uttered his name in the middle of the conversation. He thought his best friend would be happy about the mention and how much Jaeyun liked you, practically a sister-in-law to him. But he saw the company owner's expression change a little.
“Because, well… she's your girlfriend?” it seemed obvious to say something like that, Jongseong wanted to slap himself for acting like that, even more so in front of Jaeyun “And because it's a company event, it's your chance to bring her closer to the gossips who say you treat her badly.”
Jongseong hated how oblivious and sincere his best friend was. The words came out of the other with no intention of hurting or offending, and he knew it. But he also knew how sincere the boy was being because although Jongseong had never been so open about his personal life, having you around where almost everyone – or everyone – from his company was, would be a good opportunity to at least show that he cared about you. Not as he would have liked because you were in public, but he would have tried.
“I don't know why I'm bothering with this, honestly” he put his hands over his face, his voice coming out muffled and he holding back the overwhelming urge to shout. Jongseong was sincere when he said it and he knew that his best friend understood, after all, he had known him almost all his life.
“Maybe it's because you really love her and can't stand the idea of people making things up about you dating her” was another naked truth coming out of the mouth of the world's most sincere best friend, whom Jongseong felt incredibly lucky to have. He took his hands away from his face, letting them rest on his lap as he looked at the boy in front of him.
That was completely true, and also because you were the first person who took him out of the CEO posture and saw him only as Park Jongseong. You saw him as someone other than a suit and tie, expensive clothes, and a closed face. You smiled so beautifully at him that it was then that Jongseong knew he should marry you.
“I hate you” was the only thing he managed to say to Jaeyun, hearing his best friend's laugh after a big thud on the table. He had slapped the thick wood a few times to celebrate that he was right.
“Now that I've convinced you to take Y/n to dinner, I'm going to send her a message” Jaeyun stood up.
“What? You're going to text my girlfriend and say what?” Jongseong narrowed his eyes at the boy.
“I want to ask if that best friend of hers is available… What's her name again?” Jongseong listened to Jaeyun speak several names until he guessed the name of his best friend, whom he had seen a few times when the two of you went out together somewhere more relaxed.
Jongseong genuinely laughed at this, Jaeyun's intentions always being serious, but with a comic undertone that took away all the weight of working hard all week. He watched his best friend walk out of the office humming something without saying another word, leaving him there with a smile on his lips and the thought of introducing you to a sea of people next week.
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Jongseong had parked in front of your apartment countless times, waiting for you to come down and walk out the door as gracefully as ever. This time something seemed different and he knew he was too nervous – and unnecessarily so. It was just a dinner he was tired of being at, with boring people, although the subjects were really necessary. He was cordial and polite to partners and future investors, waving and greeting people who were as rich as he was just to make an average while sipping some expensive drink he didn't even care about.
Having you by his side that night would make things a little different. Jongseong didn't know if it had been a good idea to invite you to that dinner, he knew it was a world you weren't used to, although he never said he felt uncomfortable knowing how much he was part of it. Your life, completely opposite to his, was what gave grace and balance to the relationship between the two of you. While Jongseong was counting the company's millions in revenue, wearing a suit worth almost a hundred thousand and always with his hair combed with gel and straightened, you were the opposite. A baggy, comfortable suit soiled with some kind of paint or clay, your hair curled or tied up however, you could manage, inside a room full of art and paintings that you sold everywhere or gave lessons on how to make a good canvas painting. You made your money quietly and unhurriedly, while Jongseong needed figures and results the moment he opened a spreadsheet on his computer.
While he was serious and had no chance for a relaxed smile, you smiled at everyone and greeted anyone who passed in front of you. Your good mood was recognized by Jongseong the day you met, in the coffee shop you shared – in secret – because he knew it was the only quiet place, while you liked the aroma of the coffee and the few people who went there. He was in such a hurry the day he entered that establishment that he didn't see you and knocked over all the coffee you had just paid for.
There was no way he could have cursed you, after all, it was his fault because he didn't look where he was going. He didn't wait for you to pass and even made you waste your drink. Looking in your direction, you kept a smile on your face, even though your T-shirt was dirty with iced caramel coffee. Apologies wouldn't be enough for him to make up for what had happened, so buying you another coffee would be the least he could do. But as soon as he sat down at the table to wait for the compensation coffee, he was surprised by your good humor and smooth talk.
As if you weren't intimidated by him and how well-dressed he was in front of you. Nor did you care that your coffee was sticking to your shirt by now and the smell of caramel was invading the conversation you were both having. Jongseong never thought it would be so easy to talk to someone until he met you. Until he fell in love with you so naturally that he wanted to see you even more every day.
Jongseong sighed slowly, feeling nostalgic for the first day he laid eyes on you. How lucky he was that everything had turned out the way it had… He was overcome by that feeling until he stared at the entrance to your building. There you were. As beautiful as he remembered you to be. So perfect walking towards him while carefully holding the scarf that covered your shoulders to keep the wind from hitting you as the night went on. Although you were covered by his blazer by the end of the night, though.
“Hey” you said as soon as you got close enough, giving that smile that Jongseong was sure was his fuel for anything.
“Hey, darling” Jongseong said back, stretching out his hand enough to touch your waist over the dress. The silk making contact with his skin and the softness of the fabric made him smile. It hugged his body so perfectly that Jongseong was beginning to wonder if he should take you like that.
“Do you like it? Jake helped me choose, he said you'd like this color” your pout was soon broken by his lips, a quick kiss without much depth since you were both still out of the car. Jongseong took a good look again. The navy blue silk highlighted everything about you; from the color of your eyes, the tone of your hair, and even the tone of your skin. He certainly liked that color.
“He knows me on this” Jongseong kissed your lips once more, his other hand going to your face to caress your cheeks and feel the softness of your skin this time “You look stunning, baby.”
“I'm glad you liked it, love” you thanked him, and it was your turn to kiss him quickly to pull away and pull him into the car. You didn't know what time dinner would start on the dot, but you were sure that Jongseong couldn't be late, after all, he was the CEO. He would need to be there a little earlier as he had to welcome the guests and greet a world of important people.
He wasn't a difficult person for you to read, ever since you first met, so this evening it was easy for you to notice how nervous Jongseong seemed. From getting into the car and holding your thigh as his drove, to arriving at the dinner space and getting out of the car with you. Everything seemed to move in slow motion and every time you saw him look in your direction, his adam's apple would jiggle a little more, indicating that Jongseong was swallowing dry for some reason. A reason you couldn't think of. Perhaps asking Jaeyun would be a good idea since he was with Bonnie, your best friend. The two of them were relaxed with each other and would be your company while Jongseong went off to greet the first business partners of the evening.
“Do you two want something to drink?” Jaeyun asked when he found the table that the four of you would be sitting at for the rest of the evening, with only Jongseong left to join you.
“You can bring me whatever you're drinking” Bonnie smiled at Jaeyun, who smiled back.
“I think I'll take a water.”
“What?” Jaeyun's expression contorted, a grimace appearing as he wrinkled his forehead at you while sticking out his tongue “We have so many nice drinks and you're going to ask me for water? Please, Y/n.”
“That's right Y/n, how about the three of us have a drink together?” Bonnie tried to cheer you up with Jaeyun's help. If denying your best friend was a difficult task, having someone else do it made it even worse.
You weren't able to say anything else before Jaeyun left in search of a really good drink in addition to a glass of water. Meanwhile, the moment passed in complete silence between you and your best friend, because she knew you needed some time to yourself. That environment was something different for you and knowing that the stares you received were because you were known as the CEO's girlfriend. What would they think of you… that you were a gold-digger? Or did Jongseong's employees even know about the solid relationship you and he had?
It was clear that he acted strangely when it came to you and his working environment, and it was something you didn't question or care much about. Because you didn't meet Park Jongseong, the CEO. You met Jay, Jongie, the loving man who smiled at you no matter what situation he faced that day. The man with the warmest hugs and the best kiss you've ever tasted in your life.
Much of that dinner was a blur to you after Jaeyun brought some drinks and the three of you chatted about various things, with a little time left over to judge the outfits of people who swore they looked great in that space. But in fact, they were dressed so strangely. Like… Even you, who had never been to such a fancy dinner before, knew how to dress – although Jaeyun helped you with the choice because he knew what Jongseong liked – but that was no excuse! You looked much better than the people who were the talk of the table.
Jongseong had finally joined the table and the conversation between him and Bonnie was pleasant, making you feel good that your boyfriend got on well with your best friend. Just as you and Jaeyun had gotten along. Your boyfriend kept his hand on your thigh under the table, stroking your leg as the conversation between him and your best friend flowed smoothly. The tender touch of Jongseong's fingers, was a silent way of telling you that he was there for you, even though his perfume was everywhere. At least to you, who could tell exactly what he smelled like?
You looked at Jongseong's profile, his sharp jaw and plump lips making your heart race. The way his dimples appeared every time he smiled at something the other two at the table said made your heart leap a little more than usual in your boyfriend's presence. You got so lost in his face, in Jongseong's stunning beauty that you didn't notice when he abandoned his conversation with Jaeyun and Bonnie to look in your direction.
“Admiring?” Jongseong said, a low tone knowing that you would hear it anyway because of how close you had to each other.
“Feeling lucky, maybe” you shrugged, noticing him leaning towards you. His face a few centimeters away from yours, Jongseong's gaze lowered to your lips and then back to your eyes.
“Lucky for what?” he asked, shifting his gaze back and forth between your eyes and your mouth. The way he did it was so natural, yet it made you boil with shyness. Your cheeks would already be visibly flushed if it weren't for the make-up masking it and the amount of alcohol you'd drunk. You could blame it on Jaeyun and Bonnie.
“For having you with me” you finally replied, causing Jongseong's gallant exterior to crumble and giving way to the man with the silly smile and passionate gaze. He leaned in a little closer, his forehead touching yours and the tip of his nose brushing against yours.
Even if you knew that that intimate touch was the furthest the two of you had gone in front of everyone, you didn't know that practically all of his employees would be watching and commenting on it. Seeing how enamored Jongseong seemed to be with that simple touch.
“If I'm going to count myself lucky on this, then I'm the luckiest man on the planet” with a final whisper, he was ready to kiss your lips. Tasting the flavor of the drinks you'd had that night and how the fruity ones would have tasted on your tongue against his if it hadn't been for the mere interruption.
“Sorry to disturb you” Jongseong felt your breath quicken against your face, slowly pulling away so that he could straighten up and pay attention to whoever was calling him. And so he did. Sitting properly next to you as he had before, his hand still lingering on your leg as he looked at the middle-aged man standing behind Jaeyun's chair “I didn't mean to interrupt the guys, but I need you two with a so-called investor near the bar. Can you accompany me?”
A company dinner with business at a time that didn't need to happen. Jongseong and Jaeyun hated being president and vice president at this time.
“Will you wait for me for a few minutes?” he turned towards you, his eyes meeting yours effortlessly. The intense glare in your gaze made Jongseong unable to control himself even a little, so he leaned in and captured your lips without waiting for you to give anything away.
It was no lie to say that Jongseong had the best kiss in the world, even more so when he started caressing your lips with his cracked lips. The muscle of Jongseong's tongue came into contact with yours slowly and gradually, tasting the light fruitiness of the cocktail you'd had a while ago. He knew he would taste it, knew it would match the slow kiss you two shared. Unfortunately for both of you, the time had come to pull away and Jongseong did so with a small smile as he noticed the surprise on your face at having such a sudden kiss.
You held back the urge to laugh when Jaeyun came out and slapped Jongseong on the shoulder in excitement at the kiss that had just taken place. You caught a glimpse of the best friends pestering each other as, together, they walked to the bar where there were a few men much older than the two of them.
“I guess it's just you and me now, dear best friend” Bonnie moved between the chairs to sit next to you, facing the bar where the two boys had arrived a few minutes before. She slowly laid her head on your shoulder, feeling the weight of your head resting on hers straight away.
“How about some more cocktails? I loved what Jake brought us both.”
“That's how you say it. That's my Y/n!” she celebrated, raising her head and making you raise yours too. Bonnie's smile infected yours, along with her excitement at getting up from the table and going after another cocktail to face the rest of the night.
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Jongseong's eyes were asking for help as he looked at Jaeyun and saw him order another glass of whiskey from the old man sitting between them. The deal had been made a long time ago, but the older man insisted on drinking a little more to celebrate. He didn't even want to celebrate more than he should have, one glass of whiskey was enough and Jongseong just wanted to go back to sitting at your table, be in your arms, and get out of that dinner.
Thinking about you and how much he missed you, he turned towards the table where you were supposed to be with Bonnie, expecting to see you talking to your best friend. But what Jongseong found was an empty table and nothing but the empty glasses that you all drank before leaving there.
He looked around, looking for some sign from you or Bonnie so he could have an excuse with which he could walk away, say that one of you two needed his help with something and get Jaeyun out of there too.
Jongseong was starting to get nervous without seeing you for more than two minutes, no sign of you anywhere. Then he looked at Jaeyun, as tired and bored as he was. Waving to his best friend as a silent request to leave, neither of them thought much other than to give a small excuse to the old man and walk away.
“What’s wrong, man?” Jaeyun whispered as the two of them walked away, looking at the table where the two of you should be and finding it empty “Oh, I see” then he started to search the place together with Jongseong.
“I think we can split up for a bit, maybe” he suggested as he started to get impatient. He had already walked through the long dining room and not a single solid spark from you or Bonnie. He sighed heavily, Jaeyun looking around before landing his eyes on his best friend.
“The second floor has some rooms from what the organization people said” he answered to Jongseong “Do you want to look there and I’ll go outside to see if the girls went out for some air?”
“Great idea, I’ll go up,” Jongseong said.
Climbing the stairs two at a time, he didn’t know he was capable of being as fast on a staircase as he was at that moment. The second floor was huge and he would spare no effort to open each door to get a signal. Maybe one of you two was drunk and needed some help and wouldn’t be able to speak. Jongseong thought he should have left someone from the company to keep an eye on you at least, so he would know where you were just by asking. But that annoying man rented his and Jaeyun’s time in such a long and tiring way that he didn’t even have time to think.
“Park Jongseong?” he didn’t want to see anyone right now other than you, but the call of his name made him turn towards the vast and empty corridor. Jongseong looked at the woman who was approaching, an eyebrow raised and a smile on her lips that made him wonder what was going on in her head.
“Yes, it’s me” he tried to sound as cordial as possible, as he did with everyone he talked to that night. The woman took a few more steps before stopping dangerously in front of Jongseong, her hand stopping halfway as she wondered whether or not she should raise it and touch him.
“I was looking for you.”
“Looking for me? What would be the reason?” he asked, a little confused when she took another step and Jongseong felt his back hit the wall furiously.
“I can breathe a sigh of relief because my husband finally closed a deal with you” her hand ran down his chest to the top button of his shirt, where she quickly unbuttoned it. Jongseong would have raised his hand to close it and push her away, but the woman was so close that any movement could make him touch some part of her body that he didn’t want to do at all. “That way I can go to your office often. Such a wonderful view…” she held his face between her hands, this time there was no way to think and Jongseong touched her hands to push her away, mentally cursing himself for touching the skin of another woman who wasn’t you.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you understand” he tried not to sound as nervous as he was, breathing deeply so that his tone wouldn’t falter and remain serious. Jongseong looked at the woman who was trying to maintain an innocent look, which didn’t match what she wanted to do. “I closed a deal with your husband because the offer was great. And I have a girlfriend, so—”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Jongseong” she laughed. “That doesn’t work in the business world…”
He felt sorry for the man who had married her because if this was happening here, Jongseong couldn’t count how many times the woman in front of him had slept with her husband’s business partners. Did she think she would do that to him now? It made his stomach churn at the thought.
Jongseong looked ahead, looking for some sign that she was backing away so he could gently push her away and leave as quickly as possible. But again, the woman didn’t seem to give up and held his face tighter. Her perfectly painted and aligned nails dug into his skin strangely and painfully. Jongseong wanted to scream and tell all etiquette and manners to go to hell, he just wanted to get out of there. The woman stood on her tiptoes and leaned in to kiss him, but he was faster. His face turned in the opposite direction to hers to feel her lipsticked lips touching near the final line of his jaw.
This was something he would have to explain to you, the lipstick mark on your skin or any mark on your face that would have been left if you weren't at the end of the hallway. He felt his chest burn and his eyes widen when your figure was there, standing there and completely confused. Jongseong found some strength to push the woman in front of him without caring about any explanation. The only thing on his mind was to run towards you even though you were running in the opposite direction this time.
“Y/n, wait!” he shouted as loud as he could, running through the hallways until he came down the stairs after you. Jongseong didn’t know how you were so fast after a few cocktails, not even he was able to catch up to you.
The sea of ​​people flooded the hall and the entrance, coming in and out, walking in all directions. But he was focused on your figure heading outside, so that’s where he would head without thinking twice.
“Y/n, please listen to me” Jongseong shouted once more, his breath hitching as he continued running towards you until he saw that there was no escape for you anymore. The parking lot wall is the barrier to stop you from continuing to move away from him “Love, I—”
“Don’t call me that, please” by the tone of your voice he knew that you were holding back tears, and it hurt to know that it was because of him. Because of what you had seen. But what Jongseong wanted most was to explain to you everything that had happened.
“I call you because you’re my love” he continued, walking towards you even though you still had your back to him. Hearing each step of your boyfriend getting closer and closer until his warmth was against your back, “Can you turn around to face me, please?”
As much as he wanted to hold you, turn you around, and kiss you to get rid of any thoughts, he knew he had no right to do that at that moment. So he waited patiently until you turned around, finding your face blurred by tears and your eyes slightly red.
Jongseong hated himself so much at that moment. He hated himself more than anything in the world.
“Did you see everything that happened?” he asked, seeing you nod slowly, “Did you see that I tried to push her away—”
“Jongseong” he froze in place, it was his turn to widen his eyes because you never called him Jongseong. Even when you were mad at him, his name never left your lips. That hurt more than seeing you cry.
“Don’t call me that, you never call me Jongseong.”
“Jongseong” you repeated, your lower lip trembling and your eyes burning a little more. The nail marks on his cheek were still evident. You had seen everything from the beginning, since when that disgusting woman showed interest in your boyfriend thinking he would be another one she would sleep with. The shock had been so great that you hadn’t been able to scream to push her away or do anything, so it was only when your boyfriend walked away that your presence had been noticed in that hallway. You just wanted to find a bathroom to use, anyway, and ended up finding the worst scene that you wanted to forget now “If this happens at a dinner I've been invited to, I wonder what must have happened on the nights you were alone since we started dating.”
“What? Honey, no—”
Your broken sob was the last thing he heard before you walked away again. The desire he had at that moment was to go back to that hallway and make that woman tell him the whole truth about things. Jongseong had never been through a situation like that, the shock running through every fiber of his body as the vivid image of your face contorted in pain and sadness broke him more and more.
“Fuck” he threw his head back, wanting to scream as loud as he could until that horrible feeling passed. Even though he knew it wouldn’t.
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Two weeks had passed, and Jaeyun counted on the calendar on his desk and his cell phone. Today was the end of two weeks exactly in which Jongseong had not left the office for anything. Meetings were postponed or only attended by Jaeyun. Calls were answered only by his secretary, with the answers to reschedule visits or that he was not available at the moment. And seeing him in the company hallways? No one did that. Jongseong would arrive an hour before everyone else arrived, only the security guards were able to find him wandering the hallways before entering the confines of his office and leaving an hour after work ended. He didn't want to be disturbed by anything.
"This is getting worrying" Jaeyun looked at his best friend's secretary. Yuna was a cool intern – and a gossip – but not in a bad way, she was the one who passed on all the information to him while Jongseong didn't participate in it. Jaeyun was a more relaxed boss, according to her.
“He postponed another meeting for next week” Yuna looked at the notes of all the interactions she had with the boss and owner of the company. Each message was written down with details and the times the contacts had happened, all so she could keep him informed later. “Do you think we should do something?”
“What if I go to his office?” Jaeyun asked her.
“Mr. Sim, you know that—” she hesitated a little, unsure of what to say, but when Jaeyun continued, Yuna knew she wasn’t that wrong.
“We won’t know without trying, right? And he can’t fight me for this, don’t worry” Jaeyun smiled at the girl and pushed herself off the counter of her desk, walking to Jongseong’s office. He missed the sigh of distress that Yuna gave, knowing the boss and owner of that entire building well. Jongseong would probably scold Jaeyun for bothering him like he did two days ago when Jaeyun insisted that he go out at least to eat something.
With a determined sigh, Jaeyun didn't even need to knock on the door and entered the room like he always did. This time just opening the door wide and walking in.
“I told you to get out of here, Jaeyun” the other didn't even need to take his eyes off the computer to know that, once again, his best friend was trying to interact.
“Since when do you call me Jaeyun, you shit?” he walked over to Jongseong's desk, looking around and noticing the mountain of trash and takeout food. His best friend wasn't like that, never had been. This was worrying him to an absurd level and he didn't know what to do.
Or he did know, he just wanted to test it a little and see how far he could go.
“Since when do you disobey my orders” Jongseong finally looked at him. Dark circles under his eyes and eyes almost screaming for a minute of rest where he could lay his head on the pillow and get some sleep. Jaeyun wondered how long his best friend slept each night to be like that. “Now, please, get out of my office.”
“No” he replied, making Jongseong’s eyes widen. “What? Did I stutter, Jongseong?” leaning on the table, his hands in front of his body and his head down, Jaeyun looked at him a little more seriously. Looking away across the table, Park Jongseong hated how much the boy in front of him knew him so well. He didn’t want to be like that and he also didn’t want anyone to see him like that.
“Jake, go to your office, please?”
“Only if you go home, take a shower, and get some sleep” he said. Jongseong gave a sad smile, really wanting things to be that simple. That he could get at least a little sleep, but every time he laid his head on the pillow, the image of your face came to his mind.
The first few nights, Jongseong could still see the sadness in your eyes and your last words to him before running away. Then he forced himself to think about the good times you shared during the time you were together. Your smile and your touch that he missed so much. The way you called him and told him your feelings in a melody so beautiful that it was the sound of your voice. Jongseong was lost without you.
“That’s not going to happen…”
“Either you go home, or I—”
“What?” he asked, interrupting Jaeyun in the same second.
He seemed to think for a moment, pondering whether to say what was on his mind or leave Jongseong on the edge of curiosity. He decided to go for the second option and pushed himself away from the table.
“You’re leaving this room today, wait for me” he said finally, walking through the room until he left without giving his friend a chance to answer.
It was all or nothing, he needed to do this even if it cost him something that Jaeyun didn’t even know what it was. But the sadness and worry of seeing his best friend like that was even greater than anything, so he would risk everything to make Jongseong leave that room that day.
“So?” Yuna asked curiously, looking at Jaeyun with expectation and excitement. She knew that the two were best friends and could get everything from each other.
“I couldn’t get him to leave there” he began saying, seeing that she was getting a little disappointed with what she was hearing. But as soon as Jaeyun took the cell phone in his hands, continuing to talk, Yuna smiled along with him, “But I know someone who can get everything from him.”
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The sound of the computer keyboard combined with the traffic outside the building was the only sound Jongseong had heard for almost forty minutes. No interruptions from his best friend or his secretary. No one had contacted him through Yuna, much less asked to speak to him. It was incredibly peaceful, although his mind was in turmoil.
Jongseong was grateful for the amount of work that occupied his mind for most of the day, although he needed to review some documents since he got lost every time he looked at the photo on the table. Your face in it made him sigh and stop for a few minutes, messing up his hair and wondering what was going on. He wished he could go back in time and simply switch places with Jaeyun and go look for you and Bonnie downstairs. Or better yet, not accept the deal with that man and not have to deal with his freakish unfaithful wife.
Everything would be in perfect condition and Jongseong wouldn't have lost you like that. He felt incomplete and unhappy, just like he used to before he met you.
Jongseong's thoughts screamed self-deprecation. He would have continued doing this for the rest of the day if he hadn't been interrupted by a knock on the door. It wasn't Jaeyun, he was sure of that. His best friend never knocked on his door. It could only be Yuna, and she wasn't to blame for what was happening, so when he politely asked her to come in, Jongseong wasn't surprised to see her standing with the door open.
“Mr. Park, sorry to bother you” she began, almost as if it had been rehearsed during those two weeks when Jongseong had asked her not to be disturbed. He knew she was making an effort to keep him informed of everything even though he didn't want to be there.
“Do you need anything?” he asked her.
“There's an urgent visitor for you” Yuna pressed her lips together, a little hesitant. Jongseong frowned for a moment, not remembering anyone who was an urgent visitor for him.
“Is this another one of Jaeyun’s works? Because if it is…” when Yuna didn’t answer, Jongseong knew his best friend was involved in this. He sighed heavily, taking his hands away from the computer and throwing his head back. “Okay, send Jaeyun’s visitor in, then.”
The last time Jaeyun had mentioned an urgent visitor, he had taken Sunghoon and Heeseung into Jongseong’s office so they could drink bottles of soju since he couldn’t leave until he signed the last report of the week. He didn’t want to drink right now, no drop of alcohol would be able to take away what he was feeling. He appreciated his best friend’s attempts even if he didn’t know if it would work this time.
But Jongseong should also know that Jaeyun never messed around. Not when it came to getting what he wanted since the two had become friends since they were little. When he heard Jaeyun say that he would get out of that office at any cost, he didn't know that the boy would appeal and call for you. You were standing at the door of Jongseong's office now.
“Make yourself at home, Miss Y/n” Yuna’s voice brought Jongseong back to reality as soon as she said your name, waving in your direction and smiling widely as she left you there, closing the door to leave just you and him inside the room.
“Y/n? What are you doing here?” he almost stumbled over his own words, stuttering a little as he abruptly got up from the table, dropping some papers. Jongseong tried to fix some strands of his hair, which was certainly more disheveled than when he woke up.
“Jaeyun called me” as he heard your voice for the first time, almost like a song hypnotizing him, Jongseong walked around the table and approached you in slow steps. Looking your body up and down, your loose and casual clothes, just as he remembered, making you so beautiful that he swore he felt his heart swell even more. “Aren’t you eating, Jongseong?”
Now his heart could shrink in size when he heard you call him Jongseong again, falling back into the reality of the state you two were in at that moment. But he didn't care, he wanted to be close to you, so he stopped in front of you and let you look at him.
Apart from you, only Jaeyun was capable of that, of looking so closely. So he let you examine every particle of his face. From his unkempt skin to his tired eyes. His disheveled hair and his shirt looked like they hadn't been ironed or cared for in a few days as if Jongseong had just taken the same fabric and put it on in the rush of the moment.
“Sorry, I—” his adam's apple moved as he searched for the right words to answer you, feeling his eyes burn when he looked at you so closely “I don't want to leave the office, so…”
“So you're leaving now” you wanted to be firm at that moment, but you were as broken as he was.
When Jaeyun called you and asked for help, you had already been planning to see Jongseong for a few days. Your anger had already passed and you managed to cool your head about everything that had happened, talking to Bonnie and listening to the story Jaeyun told her about what had happened. It matched exactly what you saw from the beginning. Jongseong was not and never had been a cheater and a betrayer, you knew that. But your emotions were so intense that you could only think of the worst and wanted to push him away, although you didn't know that the result of that would be the man in front of you like that.
“What?” he asked.
“Let's go home” Jongseong almost moaned tearfully when your hand touched his face, letting a tear escape due to the sudden contact. Pulling his face close, you felt his forehead touch yours “You go take a shower, I'll cook something and then we can talk, okay?”
“As you wish” he replied, his voice choked and his breath mixed with yours due to the closeness you two were in.
You reluctantly walked away, looking around and sighing at the carelessness of the place Jongseong had left. You felt guilty for getting him into that state, all it took was one phone call for him to come and meet you and the two of you to sort things out. But you also knew that if you had done it earlier, it might not have been the right time and you both might not be able to talk. You preferred not to think about what could have been and just focus on what was happening now.
Jongseong approached the chair and grabbed his blazer, throwing it over his arm and turning off the computer screen. Spreadsheets and files were being saved automatically and he wouldn't have to worry about that, because he was finally leaving his office with you.
Your steps were slow in front of him as if you were waiting for him to catch up with you until you reached the door to his office. Looking over your shoulder, you gave a small smile when you saw him standing right behind you. Then your actions were almost automatic, reaching out your hand for Jongseong to hold. He intertwined his fingers with yours. Your soft, velvety skin contrasted with the roughness of his hand, sending a shiver through both of your bodies.
Your grip between his fingers was enough to make Jongseong smile a little, his heart almost jumping out of his mouth at your smile for him. With your free hand, you opened the door, going out first and taking Jongseong with you out of the room.
“Shit, I knew it” Jaeyun almost shouted along with Yuna when he saw you leave the room hand in hand with Jongseong. The two of them looked like teenagers watching a couple of friends make it work because Jaeyun and Yuna clapped their hands against each other in a funny celebration.
“Yuna?” Jongseong called for the secretary, causing her and Jaeyun’s celebration to be quickly interrupted. “Tomorrow I’m going to take the day off, rest… Can you pass my demands on to Jaeyun?”
“Sure, Mr. Park” she smiled at you and Jongseong. Jaeyun didn’t even care that he would have double the work to do. If that meant his best friend would be resting, then he would be fine.
“Thank you” Jaeyun hissed at you as Jongseong turned his back to head to the company elevators. You thanked him back, waving to Yuna as well and following Jongseong to the path he needed to take.
A lighter mood settled between the two of you and even spread to Jaeyun and Yuna. The boy was right when he said that you would be the one to get Jongseong out of that place. He should have bet with Yuna that this would happen because he would have won. But the only thing he got was extra work for an entire day.
But as Jaeyun thought, he wasn’t going to complain about that. His best friend’s rest, combined with the well-being of his relationship, was all the boy wanted to happen.
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Vulnerability was something that wasn't part of Jongseong's vocabulary until he met you. Before, he was able to handle professional pressures well, finding some amusement when people in the business flirted with him or Jaeyun. Nothing had ever happened, they were both too professional for that, but it always ended up being a topic of conversation for Jongseong the next morning. He also didn't let the few breakups he had gotten him down, managing to settle down and focus on what was most important: his company with Jaeyun.
But as soon as he met you, a lot of things started to change. Jongseong couldn't find people's boldness funny anymore, although he preferred to keep his personal life very private. He didn't cut Jaeyun off when his best friend said that the future Mrs. Park would be waiting. No partner or investor knew your name, but they knew about you just by the way he talked about you.
Jongseong also didn't know if those two weeks had been a real breakup between you and him or if it was just time you needed to get your head together. The only thing he was sure of was that it had hurt him in a way he had never been able to feel before. The anguish and fear of losing you were overwhelming. Jongseong didn't know what to do or what to think, leaving almost all the time lost in thoughts about you and being guided by Jaeyun when he needed some direction in the middle of work for a few minutes.
But as soon as you showed up at his office, showing concern and that you were there, he was able to respond with relief. Driving home with you in the passenger seat, constantly hearing you ask if he was hungry and what he wanted to eat. That was the most distant dream he had ever imagined living with you. The little things – after such a difficult time – made the boy feel luckier and luckier.
He came out of the shower with damp hair after what seemed like an eternity between going to the market to buy what was missing – Jongseong ignored your scolding after he said he hadn't done any food shopping in those two weeks – and arriving carrying the groceries, leaving you in the kitchen to prepare everything. He wanted to go with you, to watch you cook what you two had agreed on. But he also didn't want to be a hypocrite and say he wasn't tired. All the adrenaline mixed with all the distressing feelings Jongseong felt during that time were replaced by the calm that your presence brought to him, so taking a long shower was the only thing he should be concerned about at that moment. Your words after he went upstairs to his room.
Now that everything was finished, he could go down and meet you in the kitchen, guided by the delicious smell of curry that couldn't be missing from that recipe. Jongseong tried not to make any noise as he came down and stopped at the kitchen door, watching you. The care with which you prepared, your quick smiles as you chopped up a spice or added another ingredient to the pan. That was more valuable than anything he could ever have in life.
“Jongseong, what a scare!” you said as soon as you noticed his presence, making his smile widen even more. Taking slow steps, he entered the kitchen and walked a little further until he stopped next to you. Leaning his forehead on your shoulder and inhaling your scent now. The scent he missed even more if he had to admit it. “Are you hungry?” you asked.
“A little” he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his hands on your belly and breathing slowly. “Is it ready yet?”
“Yes, I promise” You smiled even though he wasn’t seeing it. Your speed in the kitchen was enviable, but he knew you did everything in the best way you could just so he could get out of the shower with the food already prepared, needing a real meal.
Between the moment he hugged you and the moment the meal was finally ready, everything passed like a blur for Jongseong. Eating in silence by your side, enjoying the good food and the glances and smiles at each other. He made sure to hold your hand between bites, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb and listening to you sigh beside him, everything so perfectly that if it had been Jongseong's delusion and he was still in the office, he wouldn't want to wake up.
“You—” he started to say, you were focused on putting the dishes in the sink and soon turned to him after the two of you finished eating “Do you mind spending the night here with me?”
He looked away after asking, afraid of any reaction from you. Jongseong took a step back to give you space in case you wanted to leave, but he was surprised when he heard you call him slowly.
“Do you want to go upstairs to rest now?” your question could already be a complete answer to him, Jongseong wouldn't even argue anymore. You would stay, he was sure of it.
Pulling you close to him by holding one of your hands, he was content to just guide you to the bedroom upstairs. Without saying a single word for fear he would ask you something and you would go back and leave him there alone. Jongseong wouldn't be able to face that house without you for so long. Even though you didn't live with him yet, at least before your visits were frequent, maybe even overnight stays. But for two weeks, you both lost that.
As soon as you both entered the bedroom, he went straight to the closet to look for something. You waited patiently, walking around the bed and going near the table where he usually got ready before going to work or going out. The smell of the mix of strong perfumes with Jongseong's after-shower scent was incredible. Everything in that room screamed his name and how the particularities of a serious man were completely guarded when he was with you.
“Here it is” he approached you, a piece of cloth in his hands that was only identified by your eyes when he stopped in front of you. It was one of the loose shirts he lent you to wear when you slept here.
No expensive pajamas or lace things, he knew that, your essence could not be bought. And he didn’t even want to. It was this difference between you and him that made the boy fall even more in love with you.
In silence, you began to undress, not caring about Jongseong’s eyes on your body or any corner he wanted to stare at. You, on the other hand, never took your eyes off his face. Wanting to catch every and any reaction as you took off your clothes, remaining only in your panties. Taking the shirt from his hand and easily pulling it over your head and letting the fabric fall on your body.
“Let’s lie down, you need it” you whispered to him, looking him up and down and seeing the small effect you began to have on him. Between the sweetness of the relationship between the two of you, you knew that you were the one who provoked Jongseong the most in this regard, and being away for so long was also making you miss him just as much as he missed you.
Feeling the soft fabric of his bed sheets and the blankets covering the two of you, Jongseong sighed. A sigh of relief as he wrapped one of his arms around your waist and pulled you close. His lips rested on your forehead before lowering his face and resting his forehead against yours this time.
“Do you want to listen to me now?” Jongseong asked you, trying to ignore the provocation from a few minutes ago and focus on something else. Maybe this conversation would be a good one.
“I… would love to” you pondered, but you knew he wanted to talk and that you had come there to talk too. So you let him tell you everything. Every little detail from the first word about how things happened.
You wouldn't hide from him that you had heard this from Jaehyun and Bonnie too, and how you had seen the scene from the beginning. But it happened like a shock and just like Jongseong, you had never experienced that kind of thing in a relationship. Not that you had many, but all the bad feelings invaded you, and dealing with it was something you couldn't do. So those two weeks had been frustrating, but at the same time necessary for you to think.
After all, your relationship with Jongseong was different from everything you and he had ever experienced before. The things that happened had to be dealt with between the two of you, so asking for his help or leaning on him on those occasions was the right thing to do.
“Thank you” he said after a while, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips, searching for any sign that you wanted to talk more or that you regretted talking to him. But the lightness in his expression said otherwise.
“For what, exactly?” you asked.
“For coming here and talking to me” Jongseong began speaking, his grip on your waist slowly softening and giving way to a caress with his fingertips as he lifted the fabric of your shirt to touch your skin. “For taking such good care of me” that innocent and sweet whisper went straight to your heart, but his hands against your skin were doing something else to you.
You had to act fast, not stay behind. The conversation between you had already happened and you needed to take care of him completely.
“But I didn’t take care of you enough” you whispered, feeling Jongseong’s affection stop quickly.
“What? What do you mean—” when your lips pressed against his, he knew what you were talking about.
Letting you kiss him now was the only thing he could handle. Your tongue slowly entered his mouth as Jongseong returned to caressing your waist, pulling your face closer, and pressing you against his chest. In that kiss, everything you two felt for each other during your relationship was transmitted, in addition to what you deprived each other of when you were apart.
Your hands slowly moved towards his chest, making their way slowly to tease him as you guided yourself to the drawstrings of the sweatpants he wore. Jongseong could only sigh and moan against your mouth, the feeling of your hand on his body sending electric shocks through every little fiber of his being.
In a slow but deliberate movement, Jongseong got between your legs and let you continue the path of your hand to his pants. Keeping up with your rhythm as his hands moved up the shirt you were wearing, revealing every part of your skin to him.
Jongseong ran his teeth over your lower lip, sucking on the fleshy flesh of your mouth when your hand finally found his cock still covered by his underwear. Moaning into your mouth had become a habit ever since you kissed him in bed. He made no effort to hide the sounds that were being caused by you. As soon as your hand grabbed the outline of his cock, Jongseong slowly ground his hips to force the length into your palm, so small and yet so strong against his throbbing cock.
“Fuck, Y/n” he moaned as he pulled away from your mouth, his chapped lips shiny with saliva sliding over your skin until they found their way to your neck. Placing small kisses on the area, going down to the particular spot between your neck and your earlobe, Jongseong left a small hickey. Smiling against your skin when you moaned in response, tightening your fingers around his cock.
“Jongseong, please” you asked hoarsely, right after your moan and trying not to falter in your tone. Knowing how impossible it was he teased you even more.
At your request, Jongseong lifted your shirt to below your breasts, enough so that the full view of your belly and panties were exposed to him. With his free hand, he took your hand off his dick and lowered his sweatshirt until he kicked it off his feet, leaving only the underwear and shirt he was still wearing.
“What do you want?” he asked, aligning the outline of his dick still covered by his underwear perfectly with the lips of your pussy covered by your wet and shiny panties. The shape was visible due to your arousal.
“I want—” you moaned loudly when the head of Jongseong’s dick hit your clit. It was sensitive and swollen, and you wanted nothing more than to be touched, but with that attitude, you knew your boyfriend had other plans.
“I asked…” Jongseong pressed his cock deeper into your clothed pussy, his slit covered in precum mixing with your essence as it made your panties even wetter along with his boxers. “What do you want?”
For lack of response, he knew the effect it had when he teased you like that. But Jongseong didn’t want things to end so quickly, so he lowered his boxers just enough to release his throbbing, aching cock. With the same hand, he traced the outline of your crotch where your panties were clinging, feeling the essence dripping from how wet you were.
He looked down for a moment, his fingers becoming almost transparent from how wet you were as he pulled your panties away. With his free hand, Jongseong ran his cock along the side of your panties, feeling the pressure of the fabric as he managed to place his length right above your clit.
“Fuck, you’re not going to— You’re not going to tease me like that” you whimpered a little too late because Jongseong began to thrust his hips slowly, making your pussy soak his entire length. With each touch of his cockhead to your clit, you wanted to cry out from the stimulation.
Jongseong swallowed a loud moan, the noise of excitement growing more intense as he soaked his entire cock in your pussy, his hips slowly moving enough.
“Why, hm?” he asked, his gaze lifting to yours as he picked up the pace. Your fucked out face could make Jongseong cum right there, without even having penetrated you yet. Your legs gripped tightly to his hips, following along as he moved back and forth, his cock stuck between your wet pussy and your panties that were starting to get stickier and stickier, almost transparent.
You pulled Jongseong by the neck, joining your lips to his as you felt him pick up the pace. The sound of his wet movements turned you on even more. His cock moved up and down your pussy as his pelvis reached its limit, only for you to soak his cock all over before his hips came back and did it all over again.
Your lungs screamed for air, but you didn't want to let his mouth go, so you kept it there just to feel Jongseong sharing the same air as you. Your brow furrowed as his pace became faster, more urgent. The shape of his mouth molding to yours, the side of his nose pressing against yours, and your foreheads still together as the two of you synchronized the movements of your hips.
Even though his cock wasn't inside you, Jongseong knew every sign your body had before he came. Every clench your pussy made around nothing and every slow spasm you indicated when you were close. Along with that, his shallow thrusts became erratic, and his nibbling on your lower lip became frantic.
“Jongie” you moaned, a request you didn’t know what it was. If it was for him to let you cum, if it was for him to not stop. You didn’t know, you could have a little bit of everything.
“Yeah, baby?” Jongseong kept his lips close to yours, his gaze never leaving yours because he wanted to look at you when you came.
“Don’t stop” you begged.
“I wasn’t intending to” he smiled with his mouth anchored to yours, his movements a little faster.
Jongseong’s thumb went to the base of his cock, making the completely wet glans – he couldn’t tell what was his pre-cum or his essence anymore – slide over your clit and down your pussy to your hole. He circled it once before penetrating you without any warning.
“Holy shit” you screamed at the sudden intrusion.
“Cum on my dick, baby” he begged, this time with a single strong thrust so that the head of his cock kissed your cervix, where he could reach.
The way your pussy tightened around his cock after so much stimulation and with just one thrust, you came like you had never done before. The trembling of your pussy walls was enough for Jongseong to cum in thick, strong jets inside you. The amount surprised him because he still came as he continued thrusting into you, hearing your whimpers knowing he was already overstimulating you.
Slowly he stopped moving his hips, the last drop of his cum inside you was released, and only then was Jongseong able to rest his body on yours, hugging you without pulling out of you yet.
“That was…”
“Intense” you finished his sentence, running your hands up your boyfriend’s strong arms until you held his face between your hands. The tender and calm look you gave him was nothing compared to what the two of you had shared seconds before.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked you, still panting as he struggled to pull out of your pussy. It was so warm and sheltering him so well, he didn’t want to leave anytime soon.
“Sure, whatever you want” you said.
He seemed to think about it for a moment, smiling slowly as he pulled out of you, careful not to overstimulate you. You both moaned together at the abandonment of your hips, but as soon as Jongseong’s body fell beside you, exhausted, you snuggled up to him and buried your face in the crook of his neck. His scent calmed you down a little more as your breathing became normal.
“Don’t ever call me Jongseong again” he said in a whisper, running the tip of his nose through your hair as his hands rested on your back.
You laughed softly but stopped when he slapped your ass and pulled you closer to him.
“I’m serious, it’s not nice and—”
“I know” your lips kissed him as you lifted your face, looking at him properly. “I won’t do it again. Only if you deserve it.”
“I promise, I won’t do anything to deserve it, love” Jongseong pouted, and you swore it was the most adorable thing in the world.
Because everyone knew Park Jongseong, and here, he was just your Jongie. Your boyfriend, and the man of your life.
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© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
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bamfkeeper · 3 days
Text
Winter Coat.
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RQ: 'Saw your requests were open and I've gone through like 99% of your works so I just HAD to toss in a request (which, absolutely take your time on btw, I completely understand the burnout that can happen at the drop of a dime). I'm so impatient when it comes to weather and seasons that I desperately need it to be chilly autumn already. I'm sure you seen it but that one post about Kurt getting fluffier during autumn/winter got my gears turning. What do you think his reaction would be to a GN reader warming their hands in his fur? (Bonus prompt if reader can somehow get past all that lovely fur and touch his skin with freezing fingers ∩ω∩)' - @casualeylee
Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader // Warnings: Slightly suggestive themes
A/N: I love the idea of him growing longer fur so I enjoyed this a lot. Quick little drabble for the upcoming cool months! I have a few requests for his fur, which was sweet to see, I adore him fuzzy. I hope you enjoy <3 WC: 1.3k
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"Mein Gott, your hands are freezing, liebling," Kurt remarked with concern, his gaze settling on your hand as it awkwardly intertwined with his own. You sighed contentedly, leaning closer to him for warmth as the two of you strolled leisurely around the dying garden of the mansion. The once vibrant blooms were now succumbing to the colder weather, which was taking its toll on the plants. Yet, despite the garden's current state, you found yourself looking forward to the cold months ahead and the festive holidays they would bring.
"I know, I'm sorry," you admitted sheepishly, glancing up at him with a hint of regret. "I should've worn the mittens you told me to put on before we left..." You pouted slightly, chastising yourself for being so stubborn earlier. Kurt chuckled softly at your demeanor, his little smirk spreading warmth through you and making you shiver, though not from the cold. His amusement was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile back.
Kurt's tail gently ran under your shirt and wrapped around your waist, holding you even closer as you walked together through the chilly evening air. You couldn't help but notice how his tail felt slightly more fuzzy than usual, prompting your free hand to naturally reach out and stroke the soft fur. "Are you getting fuzzier?" you questioned with curiosity, suddenly eying his face and observing that his jaw seemed to have longer fur too, as if preparing for the colder months ahead.
"Ja, I get a thicker coat when it gets cold...you complain about my fuzz now, just wait until I have a full-on winter coat and I am shedding all over your favorite sweaters!" he laughed softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement at the thought of you dealing with a living room filled with his fur. The idea of him shedding more fur made you smile, envisioning the playful challenge it might bring. Even if it meant a bit of extra cleaning during the winter season.
"Your hand still feels cold, liebe," Kurt observed with concern, his eyes filled with the usual warmth as he looked down at you. Gently, he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I think our walk is done...you are going to freeze out here if we stay any longer," he stated with a hint of urgency in his voice. Not wanting you to endure the cold any further, he effortlessly teleported you both inside the expansive mansion, determined to stop your shivering.
Now, you found yourself comfortably seated on the plush couch in your shared bedroom. The luxurious room was spacious, adorned with elegant furnishings, and boasted a charming small fireplace that crackled softly. Only the older X-Men were privileged enough to have a room this nice, making you feel incredibly lucky, especially when you were currently shaking off the cold. As you sat in front of the gently flickering fire, its warmth slowly seeping into your chilled bones, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of happiness.
Kurt teleported back into the room with a soft purple haze enveloping him, his tail flicked away any remaining cloud as he walked over to you. He gently sat down beside you on the couch, causing the blanket that was draped around your shoulders to slip slightly as he made himself comfortable. He placed a steaming cup of hot chocolate on the small table beside the couch, its warmth and aroma inviting. “I made it just how you like.” Kurt noted and left it to cool off for a minute. You gave him a soft smile at the gesture, he always knew what to do to make you feel loved. He always went above what he needed to do, and that was one of the things you loved about him.
Kurt leaned back and went to wrap his arm around you, intending on pulling you closer to him to offer extra warmth to you before he paused. "Oh," he remarked thoughtfully, humming to himself and leaning back a bit to look at you, "Skin on fur might help..." With a slight shuffle, he began to remove his top, revealing his abdomen and chest. As he did so, you noticed that his skin had also grown more fuzzy.
You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of curiosity and admiration as you couldn't help yourself from eying his chest and abdomen. He stood before you, his attractive physique lean and toned, each muscle defined under the light from the fireplace. The fur that covered his body looked incredibly soft, inviting, you needed to have your hands on him. It was impossible to ignore the magnetic pull you felt towards his body at that moment. “Ah…you are growing a lot more already,” you rasped, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with an undertone of need. With a sense of awe and hesitancy, you reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they made contact with his warm skin. Slowly, you let your hand trail up, starting from his belly button and moving upwards to his chest.
You swallowed nervously, feeling the firm and defined muscles beneath his soft fur, and as you did, you began to have some difficulty controlling your thoughts, which started to wander in unexpected directions. Kurt laid his hand gently over yours as you felt the warmth of his chest, his intense yellow eyes fixed on you with a playful grin. “Naughty…I know what you’re thinking. You always get this look in your eye…sinner,” he said with a teasing tone, his voice low and playful. His words and the cheeky way he spoke made your face heat up even more, feeling more flustered since you were practically feeling him up.
"Shut up...your fur is really warm on my hands...that's all." You muttered embarrassingly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, your hands continuing to slowly rub his chest and feel the fur there. It was so incredibly soft, the longer bits curled around your skin, inviting your nosy fingertips to dig even farther into his fur, seeking more warmth and comfort in every stroke.
"Enjoying yourself?" He asked with a slight smirk, sitting still as you explored him with that stupid grin, allowing you to continue your gentle exploration. He opened his mouth for another teasing comment, but his breath hitched quickly as your freezing fingers unexpectedly found their way to his skin. "Ach...- Liebling..." he murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and endearment.
"What? Did I find something?" you asked with a mischievous grin, your turn to be cheeky now. You intentionally let your fingers wander over his skin, which was so incredibly, so wonderfully warm. With a playful determination, you weaseled your hands against his skin, feeling the contrast of your cool touch against his heat. Snuggling even closer to him, you couldn't help but smile as Kurt laughed and squirmed a little from the unexpected cold sensation of your fingers dancing across his body.
"The things I let you do to me..." he huffed, though there was a fondness in his voice, as he held you even closer to him. His arms and tail wrapped securely around your body, pulling you into a protective and affectionate embrace. While he often teases you relentlessly, it's always in good fun, because at the end of the day, he truly loves you. He is more than willing to suffer through the icy touch of your fingertips against his warm, sensitive, ticklish skin, as long as it brings a smile to your face and you enjoy every moment of it.
"Ach! Liebe!" he exclaimed, jerking up slightly in surprise as you playfully moved your fingertips to the sensitive sides of his ribcage. His reaction was both amusing and endearing, and you couldn't help but giggle at how it caught him off guard.
He looked down with a soft, affectionate smile, acknowledging your mischievousness with a twinkle in his eyes. "Cheeky thing..."
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Thanks for reading.
*BAMF*
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Dividers by @/adornedwithlight
Cover image: Nick Robles art credit, other images Pinterest.
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codnasties · 3 days
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part 2 of semi public soap but the rest of the 141! join the next few nights? 😩
GOD you put this idea in my mind and i just had to do it
gangbang w/141 🧼👻🚬🧢 [semi-public w/soap pt. 2] (🌽 link)
after that stunt that you and soap pulled, price decided to give soap a scolding, because, you know, there is a time and place to do stuff. however, soap decided to play a quite childish card and tease his captain, telling him that he was jealous and that he wished it had been him fucking you and making you moan like that. and price slipped, as a result of the mocking, stating that he did, in fact, wish that had been him, and so did gaz and ghost.
so soap just makes it happen because, unbeknownst to his mates, this is something you and him have discussed before and are on board to try. so quite literally the following night you have these four men in a tent that's way too small to house their muscular bodies.
having your beautiful body covered by a flimsy tank top and some barely-there patines is enough to get these men hard for you. but they let their captain call dibs first - since he's their superior, he's older and he's also the reason this is happening-, and all he asks for is to fuck your ass, because price fucking loves anal. so he just monopolies it for himself and makes sure that, regardless of the position that you three take, he's sheathed inside of your tight and barely touched hole.
good boy gaz let's ghost have a piece of your sweet pussy first. but make no mistake, it's just because he wants to be the first one to have your lips wrapped around his cock and wants to hear your noises being chocked out and the vibrations hitting his aching shaft. do not worry, he's gonna have a go at your cunt later. a blowjob is just the appetiser for the true main course: your walls tight around him.
ghost, unlike gaz, sees your mouth as the main course. don't be confused, he loves the feeling of his thick cock breaching into you and your walls fighting to accommodate him. but he just wants to cum in your mouth, and make sure that his seed paints your face and maybe even those delightful tits that you have -because he's a disgusting fucker and much to soap's discontent-.
and you may ask, and soap? nasty fucker is on the sidelines, jerking off to the sight of his mates having fun with you. he actually gave them a job: to cum inside of you, just so, as the munch that he is, he could use his mouth to clean you himself, all while he humps his aching boner against the air mattress in your tent until he cums.
now the ones having to put up with your loud moans and the squelching and sking hitting skin sounds for the remaining days of the trip aren't the 141, because they are the ones making sure to have you making those delicious noises sandwiched between them.
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