#the sex needs to be so messy and desperate and hateful and soft and heartbreaking and sexy all at the same time
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forgotmysword · 4 months ago
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Sorry to all the girlies mad about the possibility of alicent going to oldtown instead of dragonstone in the finale but im here for the long haul. I want alicent exhausting every last option before going to rhaenyra. I want her as desperate as possible, begging for forgiveness after fully coming to terms with her life and her sacrifices truly being all for nothing. The day her life ended was the day otto had her go comfort viserys. Her and rhaenyra being torn apart was where it all went wrong. But maybe her youngest son, who she didn’t raise, who wasn’t poisoned by her or life in king’s landing, could be the one who saves her.
But he won’t be.
Bc in the end, even in chains, it will be rhaenyra who sets alicent free. It was always going to be rhaenyra.
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plush-rabbit · 3 years ago
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Purgatory is Sweet Punishment
Request: Pls let Solomon and Simeon use mc like a fleshlight 😳😩👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻✨ I want to see her covered in their mess and overstimmed and begging for them
Word Count: 2.4K
A/N: a short thing!! I hope you like it:)
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Simeon watches from the doorway, his mouth pulled into a thin line as he watches you whine under Solomon, your mouth open and eyes rolled back to your head with tears shining. He hates the feeling of heat that bubbles in his stomach, golden blood that rushes through his body and settles below him.
He hadn’t meant to walk in on the both of you during your more intimate time- not that he knew what was going on. He simply thought that the two of you were studying but perhaps he should have known that the two of you were in the process of something else.
Solomon pulls out of you, his cock dripping with your sweetened nectar, as you lay under him, your hands reaching for his forward, your voice broken as you call for him to come closer. “Solo,” you whine, thrusting your hips upwards. “Don’t go, please, Solo, don’t go.” You roll your hips and clench your thighs together and Simeon finds himself enchanted by the way your cunt flutters.
“For someone who chastised us, you seem to be pretty interested,” Solomon teases, turning around and Simeon quickly averts his eyes away from you. His own cock bobs and drips with cream- either from you or him, the angel isn’t sure. “You can always join us, you know.” Solomon’s hands slip away from your grip, and he gently slides his hands down your thighs, curving against the fat and sinking his fingers into you. “They won’t mind.”
“They’re hypnotized,” Simeon hisses out, his leg jerking and causing a ripple effect where he can finally move. “It isn’t right. What if it weren’t me who walked through the door? How would you have explained yourself then? I can barely contain my rage as it is.” He finds himself at the edge of the bed, your body hot enough for him to feel without even touching you.
Solomon’s smile doesn’t falter, it only twitches upwards, his hands now gripping your thighs leaving you whining at the mere contact of it. “They consented. We’re both into this. Want to see?” Solomon taps the center of your forehead, and you take a deep breath, slowly blinking away as if a light is being shone in your face. “Are you back with us?” You nod, licking at your lips, your mouth slightly parted as you turn to face where Simeon stands.
“Oh no,” you whisper under your breath, quickly turning your gaze back to Solomon. “Why did you bring me back now?” You hissed, your hands going to cover your burning face. “Solo, please tell me this is some weird hologram that you made,” you whine beneath your palms.
“It’s the real deal,” he answers, grabbing your wrists and pulling them away from your face. His hand lets go of your wrist, letting it fall to your chest where you desperately try to cover your chest. His hand cups your cheek and forces you to turn where Simeon stands. “Come on, don’t cry.”
“You’re the absolute worst,” you mutter, your eyes closing tightly, creases appearing between your brows.
“Look at that, Simeon, they're crying. Won’t you comfort them?” Solomon asks, kissing at your knuckles. “Could you really stand to see them cry?” He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s pleased, the glee in his voice so thick that it makes Simeon’s face burn.
He stands still, his muscles stiff as he decides what to do. He may be an angel, but he knows what will happen if he decides to comfort you. You are his temptation, the sin that burns under his skin and haunts his every waking moment and he knows he isn’t strong enough to refuse you- especially when you’re in such an exposed and vulnerable state.
But he can’t stay. He can’t risk losing himself just because he felt that he had to wipe away your tears. Simeon can’t risk falling- he isn’t sure he’d be able to handle the heartbreak that would come from it. Yet, how can he say no to you, how can he deny you when you’re staring up at him with wide and glassy eyes and puffed lips from too many kisses.
“Simmy,” you sniffle, “please.” He isn’t sure what you’re asking of him and he doesn’t think you are either. Your hands go to clasp to the little excess of his pants, clutching it feebly in your hand and his resolve is gone.
He lowers himself to his knees, his hand replacing where Solomon held you, and he smiles gently at you. “It’s okay, my little lamb, there’s no need to cry.” The words only seem to have the opposite effect, thick tears grazing past his fingertips. “I’m not your judge, it’s okay. Please, don’t worry yourself.” He keeps his eyes on you, watching as your face scrunches when Solomon massages his cock against your clit, his hands held tightly at your hips. Simeon’s fingers brush away strands of hair that stick to your temple. “Just look at me, okay?” His mouth snaps closed when yours opens up to release a sultry moan, that is breathed against his lips. He is left staring at your face as Solomon pushes into you, curses falling past your lips as your hand goes to hold Simeon’s hand, gripping it tightly with your nails.
Your name is called by the man who is deflowering you and you turn to him, your eyes heavy with lust as your chest bounces. “Do you want Simeon to join us? Hm? Do you want Simeon to fuck that pretty, pink cunt of yours?” You nod, wrapping your legs around Solomon’s torso, keeping him trapped there as he pumps inside of you. “Don’t say it to me, say it to him. He won’t fuck you if you’re hypnotized so he’ll have to have you ask him.”
Your face is flushed, and he can hear your heart beat erratically in your chest. Your chest rises and dips as you turn to the angel, your mouth parted and already asking him to join before you can look him in the eyes. His hand burns against your skin, touching such an innocent place but to him it’s as if he’s touching something intimate, looking into your eyes as you’re fucked by a close friend of his.
“Simeon,” you gasp between the moans, your hand moving slowly as if muddled by amber, “please, just touch me.” Solomon’s moans interrupt your words as you’re pushed deeper into the bed. Your hand grasps onto the collar of his shorts and you pull him into a messy kiss. It’s teeth and tongue, saliva slipping past the corners of each other’s mouth while your hands go to cover every inch of his body that is exposed. “Simmy, just touch me,” you croak, pulling away with a thin strong of saliva connecting the both of you.
His hand is soft as it curves over your breast, his fingers brushing along a pebbled nipple. The bud is pinched, and it’s foreign in his hands, stiff and malleable at the same time, leaving you grasping at his shirt, pleading under your breath as his name is the only thing that you can say without falling apart. Your moans echo into his mouth, leaving his chest vibrating and he’s left breathless, dying at your lips as he hand kneads into your soft breast.
A puddle of white cloth is pooled around Simeon’s ankles, his body bare and radiant as he’s led onto the mattress. Hands touch at his body, tainting his holy being with sin that covers his brown skin, trails of lips that are pressed to the nape of his neck and against his own breast. Your lips are tender, pressed against his own; honeysuckle that sticks to his tongue and leaves him with aching teeth. Eyes are on him, and for once, they aren’t judgmental, they are free and full of love and he’s left hiding at the crook of your neck and holding onto Solomon’s hands, with poison that threatens to rip apart his soul and spill onto the two that are left on the bed.
“You’re allowed to touch them, you know,” Solomon says in a smile, his hand pulling away from the angels. “They want it too.” His eyes shift from Simeon to you who’s watching him with wicked eyes. “They’re dripping just at the feeling of kissing you. Show him how much you want him.”
He watches as your hand disappears between your legs, your fingers rubbing softly against your clit, your face heated and even though flushed, you still look at him. He watches how your fingers tease around your entrance, how they’re sucked inside and the soft melody of clicking sounds as you finger yourself in front of him, because of him. He watches and waits with bated breath and when you pull your hands away, translucent gossamer strings stick between your fingers. Your wrist is held in the angel’s hands and your nectar that is oh-so-sweet is placed on his tongue, his lips wrapping around your fingers, and the two humans before him watch as their angel suckles in something so sweet as if it were his final meal.
“Simeon,” you call to him, your hand outstretched, face burning as you entice him. You want nothing more than to just hold his hand, to touch him and let him feel you. “Simeon, please,” you cry, so desperate to hold his hand.
The angel turns to Solomon who pulls you to his chest, and so desperate to have your cunt filled, you align yourself to his cock, letting it nestle around your walls. “I- Is it really okay?” Simeon asks, watching as you squirm above Solomon.
“No one is here to judge you, Simeon. You’re allowed to do whatever you want to them.” Solomon holds his hand out to Simeon, his smile tempting as he curls his fingers, beckoning for Simeon to join him. “How would you like them?” Simeon furrows his brows in confusion and Solomon chuckles lightly. “You can have them vaginally-”
“It’s wrong to have premarital sex,” Simeon quickly interjects.
“So then anally?” The angel goes stiff. “Don’t worry, they’re already prepped,” Solomon mumbles. He lowers you to the bed, his cock sliding out of you, strings of arousal connecting and making his length glisten under the light of the room. “You can slip into them with ease-'' there's eagerness in his voice that the sorcerer does not try to hide- promise.” Solomon lies on his back, having you sit above him, slowly leaning over as his mouth pulls in one of your supple breasts, nursing on you as your hands reach around and grab at your bum, stretching the fat to have your taint exposed. “Just go ahead and use them. They like it when you’re rough,” he winks, capturing your lips in a kiss.
Simeon lets his cockhead kiss your hole, and it flutters around him, and the slapping of skin is enough to let him suck in a sharp breath and push himself inside of you. You moan and it’s intertwined with a sob and a call of his name and just as quick, you tighten yourself around him. Your walls are tight, gummy and clinging to the shape of his cock that curves and rises with soft bulges.
“Oh god, Simeon,” you wail, pulling away from the kiss and tilting your head backward. “Simeon, fuck- you’re so big.” There are tears in your voice and Simeon has to bite the inside of his cheeks to ignore the forming smile.
Inside of you, semen has begun to leak, iridescent and holy, filling your hole with such that makes the angel ignore the motions that are happening. He’s sinned under no one’s eyes and yet, he’s sinned to the two people who he cares for. He can feel something evil latch onto him, his need to have you call his name, to replace the name of Father with his, your voice the only thing that he can hear, along with Solomon’s grunts and breathless laughs. He’s pulled away from you and you and him whine at the loss of contact, your hands searching for him and body missing as semen leaks out of your abused holes. His shaft is cleansed of yours and his arousal and your legs are bent to your chest, your hands scratching and marring his back and he’s drowning in you, suffocating as he breeds you, burying his face into the crook of his neck and letting his teeth rip your skin.
His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing the sides and your breath is restricted. Your heartbeat rises, pulses and vibrates under his skin, your cunt tightening into something that makes it so easy for him to spill. Everything has bordered along fear and pleasure. “Sim- Simeon, Oh fuck-” your sentence is ruined by a moan, your body shaking as you mouth remains open, a thick trail of drool sliding past your bottom lip. “Simeon, Simeon,” you chant, raising your hips, your walls clinging to him and Solomon captures your lips.
He pulls away with a drunken expression, looking at Simeon who is sloppily thrusting inside of you. “Well, would you look at that- Ha,” Solomon says playfully, a hand of his squeezing at your breast. “You fucked them silly, Simeon.”
Your cunt leaks and Solomon nurses on your breast, your hand running through his hair as your sex burns, too sensitive, so close and so far. You leak in heavy strands, your body shaking as you call for both of them, whining and twisting under Simeon. Your legs ache, and you can feel him hit against your cervix, pushing so deep and so widely that you’re sure you’ll be unable to walk tomorrow.
Above you, Simeon moans, his face scrunched up as he can feel his release at the edge of him. Your cunt closes around him, clinging to his cock, and your lips capture his, tongue and teeth meet and he sobs into you, tears slipping onto your face and he spills. Your name leaves in a whimper past his lips, his hand curling above Solomon’s neck and holding it firmly, but loosely. You shake and cry, and when he pulls out of you, your body is on pins and needles as semen leaks out of you. The three of you lie in a bed and with sweat slicked bodies, you all stare up at the ceiling.
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cazimagines · 3 years ago
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Try not to forget me
Synopsis: Anon request: Can we have a reader who slept with Zemo when they were younger, they were basically each other’s first times. Reader was brought to the mission and when Sam mentions Zemo she only limits herself to saying that she knows him assuming she knows him from civil war. At some point, Zemo mentions it to Sam and since he can’t contain himself he has to ask reader to be sure. Maybe some smut, like ‘I don’t remember you being this good’
Word count: 8.5k
Author’s note: Welp it took me a while but it's finally here! I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I am such a sucker for the trope of seeing someone you once dated years after not seeing them again. Like give me all of that. Also I changed a little bit of the request but not much.
Warnings: Gun shots, SMUT (for mature audiences), Fingering, Vaginal sex, Stripping
Masterlist
(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)
Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username
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Fingers fumbled with the clasp, the feeling of lips trailing up your thigh, sweet whispers in the air,
‘My princess, my everything’
His kisses on your neck, the desperation in his voice
‘I need you, all of you’
His fingers dug into your hips, his body moving like waves on top of you.
You call out his name to the night, losing yourself in the passion that consumed you.
Your hand tangled in his hair, tugging roughly which elicited a moan from his lips.
His eyes sparkled as he reached his first climax with you, ‘You’ll always be mine’
You woke up still with the taste of his lips upon your mouth. You felt the ghost of him linger on top of you, clinging to that long-ago memory.
But all things fade with time and the cold reality pulled you from the once pleasant dream drenched in sorrow. Sighing you pulled yourself off the made-up bed on the floor, already grabbing a hair tie to pull the bird’s nest of your hair out of your face. You hop over to where your prosthetic leg laid and strapped it onto your thigh.
Grabbing your phone you notice a few miss call from an old friend, calls you must have slept through. Pressing the number you hold it up to your ear as you wander around the apartment preparing for your day.
On the third ring, he picked up.
“Sam?” you ask
“Y/n! I wasn’t sure if I would hear back from you, it’s been a while”
“Yeah, things have been keeping me busy. It’s not like how it was when we were in the army”
You could hear him chuckle down the line, “It’s strange, I would have thought my time in the army would have been the craziest part of my life, but it’s hard to beat all the stories I have of aliens”
“At least you have stories to tell, what do I have? I served for a few years as a new American citizen, almost died a few times till one day I got shot in the leg”
“I don’t know losing your leg is one hell of a story, but speaking of almost losing your life. You remember that time I was able to pull you away from a landmine and you told me, ‘oh Sam thank you so much, I owe you so much’” Sam says down the line in a squeaky voice
“Since when have I ever spoken like that Sam? And why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like where this is going”
“Well that’s because it is time for me to cash in that favour”
That’s how you found yourself arriving at an airport, searching around to find Sam. As you walked around the corner you could make out what seemed to be three figures in the distance. As you got nearer one of them noticed you, and started waving exaggeratingly making you chuckle.
You finally reach him as Sam pulls you into a firm hug. “It’s good to see you again y/n,” he says as you pull away.
“Yes, after all these years of avoiding me” you quip making him laugh
“You know I’d never avoid you! It’s you who has always found an excuse to get out of meeting up with old friends”
“Well I’m here now”
“Speaking of old friends, let me introduce to you this man, 106 years old, dermatologists hate him”
The man Sam referred to now stepped forward, holding out his hand, “Hi, I’m Bucky” he says, smiling slightly as you shake his hand.
“Y/n, you look good for your age”
“He moisturises” Sam buts in making Bucky send him a look, “It’s complicated” he mutters and you nod.
“I met Steve once, I understand,” you tell him, making his eyes light up at the mention of his old friend.
“Super soldier serum, the ability to be almost immortal, another reason as to why we have all gathered here to prevent it”
A shiver ran through your spine as you heard that long ago accent which you had removed from your voice. You focus on the man behind Sam, someone you should have noticed when you first appeared.
It had been over twenty years since you had last seen him yet you could still recognise the way his lips twitched up at the sides but dipped in the middle, the softness of his warm brown eyes, and the slight angular twist his eyebrows had. His hair was more well kept than when you had last seen him. Then he was still going through his rebellious phase, letting his hair grow unkempt but now he had a sense of refinement about him. He knew he was ageing like fine wine and now instead of trying to rebel from the prestigious life he had like when you knew him, he lavished in it, enjoying the money that was of so easy access to him and spent it on all the finer luxuries of life.
“Y/n, this is Zemo. You might remember seeing him on the news, he’s the one who framed Bucky”
You knew him more than that, more than any of them could ever know him. The dream from this morning swarmed your thoughts again, taunting you as if your brain knew what was to come.
Sokovia had been your home country, a place you had longed to forget, leave dead. Zemo, Helmut, was your childhood friend. You couldn’t remember the time when you first met as it felt like he had always been in your life. Everything you two did, you did together. Attending the same schools, going around to each other’s houses, exploring the wildness together. You two were closer than siblings. Your family had nowhere as near the same money as Zemo’s family had, yet that didn’t seem to matter, at least not when you were children. It was no surprise to people when eventually you two started dating. There had been bets on how long it would take for Zemo to gather the courage to ask you out. You and Zemo had been each other’s firsts, first partner, first kiss, first making love, which is where your dream had come from. It was cringy to say it but you felt like you loved him with every inch of your soul, and you knew Zemo was just as dedicated to you.
That’s why the break-up was so messy.
You were the one who called it. You had to. Zemo might have been blind to what it meant to be a Baron at that time but you weren’t. His parents allowed him to have his little indulges, allowed you two to be friends, to date. But at the end of the day, he would always be from the higher class and your family from the lower class. They would of never let you two marry so you had to call off the relationship before you got too deep, to save yourself some pain. You’d hoped that you two could still be friends, though it would have hurt, you still wanted to be around him but that was never meant to be.
At first, he didn’t believe you, he laughed it off as a good joke till he realised you were being serious. Then was the confusion, he wouldn’t let you leave. He needed to know what he did wrong, what could have happened for you to want to break up with him. Then was the obsession. He wouldn’t leave you alone, turning up to your house every day to beg for another chance, following you around trying to pick the relationship back up, threatening any guy that went near you. Then the heartbreak when he finally accepted it was over. He didn’t leave his house for months, you heard rumours he drank himself to sleep most nights, till one time at the dead of the night you found him pounding on your door, shouting to let him in. He was pissed and crying, imploring at you to give him a second chance, begging for you to tell him what he could do to get back with you. He would do anything, give you all his money, abandon his family and run away with you. You helped him back home and told him to leave you alone. And to give it to him he did because then came the anger. You would see him outside and he would pretend he didn’t even know who you were. You’d walk past and accidentally hit shoulders and he shouted at you to watch where you were going. Soon he would be seen with lots of different women, taking them to all the places he took you, dancing at parties. Whenever you looked over to them they were making out and it pained you deeply for what you had to give up. Eventually, you ran away. You couldn’t keep torturing yourself seeing Zemo move on with someone else while you were still suffering on the inside, not just for losing the boy you love but the person who had been your best friend for as long as you could remember.
You left Sokovia to live in America, completely ridding yourself of your whole past identity. There you decided to enlist in the Army which is where you had met Sam, served with him for a few years till you were forced to retire early due to losing your leg. You checked up on Zemo every once in a while, it wasn’t too hard with the Sokovian news constantly obsessing over him. He married the woman he moved onto, the one you always saw making out with him. You suppose he truly must have loved her because it was your birthday when his son was born. While he celebrated the happiest day of his life you spent the day at the bottom of a bottle drinking away the loneliness. You still remember the moment you found out what had happened to Sokovia. You hadn’t been back there in years but it was still your home, where you had all of your fond memories, now all gone.
You didn’t see anything in the news about Zemo after that, he and his family completely vanished so you had to assume the worst. Till you finally saw him on the news. It was hardly like the boy you once knew. The Zemo you knew was kind, empathetic, caring, beautiful in every way he could be yet the man you saw there was a murderer, cold-hearted, reckless. What had happened to the boy you once knew?
You could make guesses, his family was nowhere in sight and you could only imagine how losing the woman you love and your child could hurt you. You hated imagining all the pain Zemo has gone through.
“Yes, I remember seeing him on the news,” you tell Sam. Both you and Zemo stared at each other, your eyes unwavering.
He knew who you were. He knew from the moment you turned around that corner. As he watched you warmly greet Sam and shake hands with Bucky. He watched the person he never thought he would see again stand right in front of him, not even noticing him.
But now you stood there, staring him down. Both of you almost speaking through your eyes. Would the other one bring up the past? Try to acknowledge all that has happened between you or is that dead, left forgotten. Will you two pretend to have never met before, letting years of memories fade.
Zemo was first to speak.
“I see my reputation isn’t too favourable”
“That’s what you get for blowing up the UN,” you say scowling at him as you cross your arms
Zemo opens his mouth to say something but Sam gets here first, “Y/n served in the Army with me so you better be careful with what you say Zemo”
Zemo’s eyes then flicker back to you tilting his head, like he always used to do, in interest.
“Why is he even here?” you ask, finally pulling your eyes away from him to Sam and Bucky
Sam turns to Bucky with a plastered on a fake smile, “Why don’t you explain Bucky”
Bucky sighs as he glances over to you, “As Sam mentioned to you on the call we are trying to track down this group of super-soldiers called the Flag Smashers. We need Zemo here to help us track down where they got the serum and help us so no one else becomes a super-soldier”
“And you trust him?” you scoff, glaring back to Zemo who just smirked at you
“We have no other choice” Bucky mutters, scowling over at Zemo
“I can assure you, I won’t do anything to betray your trust. For once all of our goals are aligned that it would do us no good to go against each other.”
“I’ll hold judgment till later,” you reply bitterly.
Swifty Zemo swings on the heels of his feet, turning around to start walking away, obviously expecting all of you to follow him. Sighing in annoyance you trail after him.
As you had predicted both you and Zemo were pretending to not know each other, perhaps for the sake of the mission or perhaps for the sake of your well beings. You’re not sure if you could cope even acknowledging the past you two had. He’d been the person you had been closest to, someone you shared all your secrets, all your thoughts and feelings with. Someone who you would have taken a bullet for in the blink of an eye and to suddenly lose all of that, it wrecked you. You had finally managed to build yourself up again, to try and move on and then he comes straight back into your life. It’s as if there is some strange omnipotent god up there and it loved to torment every waking moment of your life.
“So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asks and you all catch up with Zemo and see him walking towards what you assumed was his private aeroplane.
“I’m a Baron, Sam, my family was royalty till your friends blew up my country”
There was a slight change of tone for when he said ‘my’ not enough for Sam and Bucky to pay attention to it but enough for you to feel the slight twist in your heart as you thought back to the country that used to be yours, long ago.
As you got closer you observed a man standing by the plane, ready to welcome Zemo aboard and you felt your heart stop for a moment. Oeznik. The man had aged since you last saw him, he had fallen to the tolling of time but he still had those warm, caring eyes.
Memories swept over you of your childhood as you observed him. He has always been Zemo’s assistant, hired by Zemo’s parents when they were much younger. You could remember times when you and Zemo would be running down the corridors, not where you were supposed to be and Oeznik would find you two, not telling you off but smiling at you two, saying how Zemo’s parents were looking for him. He would sneak you two Turkish delights even if it was only an hour before dinner. Anywhere you two wanted to go he would drive you there. Whenever you slept over he would prepare your favourite meals, making sure everything was just how you liked in the room you would stay in. He was almost like another father figure to you and Zemo.
And now there he was, greeting Zemo. Zemo kissed him on the cheeks fondly before heading inside. Sam and Bucky both follow up but you take a moment to turn to look at him.
“Oeznik” you whisper
He smiles warmly down at you, placing his hand on the side of your arm. “It’s good to see you again madam”
You nod your head, unable to say anymore without letting your emotions get the better of you so you choose to head inside.
You could feel his eyes on you as you enter. You glance up to him and you know he knows why you took a little longer to get onto the plane. It was that knowing look in his eye, the slight twinkle of amusement but also sadness.
You frown realising you’d have to take a seat opposite Zemo, Sam and Bucky already choosing to sit on the other side, showing their dislike for him. You freeze for just a moment making Zemo gesture to the seat in front of him, smirking as he tilts his head. You huff, not bothering to hide your displeasure, taking the seat in front of him but refusing to even look at him.
A few minutes later Zemo chuckles as Oeznik brings out two drinks, a glass of champagne which he offers to Zemo, and a glass of rum which he offers to you. You’re favourite drink. After all this time he still remembered.
You kindly thanked Oeznik, taking the glass as you avoid the confused eyes of Sam who was wondering why you got a drink and he didn’t and the eyes of Zemo, which held an emotion you couldn’t quite recognise.
“The food is out but I will see if there is some good food in a gallery,” he tells Zemo and starts to turn away but then Zemo speaks.
“If it doesn’t pass the food test, give it to them,” he says, speaking in sokovian and gesturing to Sam and Bucky.
You weren’t prepared for the surge of pain in your heart as you heard Zemo use the language of your people. Though it had been over twenty years since you last heard it, you could still remember it perfectly.
Oeznik laughs, “It’s good to have you back sir,” he says, then nods to you before leaving again. Zemo smiles at Sam and Bucky, enjoying the notion of how they didn’t know what he said, before his eyes swiftly turn back to you, knowing you know exactly what he said.
He takes a swing of his drink before speaking again, “It’s kind of him to remember your go-to drink” he says in Sokovian.
And there it was. The first acknowledgement of the past between you two. Your eyes burn into his head as you realise just what he was doing. It was a test. He spoke in Sokovian for just you to understand, seeing if you were to take the bait and talk back in Sokovian. He wanted to see if you were willing to acknowledge the past between you two as well.
But Sam and Bucky had no idea where you were from. As far as they knew from your accent you were American and you planned to keep that secret. You weren’t going to play in Zemo’s little game, you refused to take your turn. Instead, ignoring what he had said to stare at the ground.
He waits for a few moments before accepting you weren’t going to reply. Sighing he turns to Sam and Bucky.
“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell” he starts “Oh, that’s right, you do” he then carries on, taunting them. If he can’t mess with you then he’ll mess with them.
“Why don’t you tell us about where you are going” Sam replies, ignoring Zemo’s attempt at taunting.
Zemo then instead turns to the book in his hand, thumbing through it. “Sorry, I was just fascinated by this. I don’t know what to call it but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?” he asks turning to Bucky
Instantly Bucky was out of his seat, his hand around Zemo’s throat pulling him back as he leans in towards his face.
“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you” he whispers
Zemo nods as Bucky lets him go, letting out a slight breath he had been holding in. Bucky glares as Zemo has he takes his seat again.
“I’m sorry. I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.”
“But you’re not sorry” you abruptly say, making all eyes turn to you. “Ever since we’ve sat down you’ve been taunting us, trying to stir up trouble. Soon your annoyance will outweigh any use you have for us”
“I’m sorry if I have caused you any offence, Princess, it is never my intention to upset any of you”
But it was. It fucking was. Because he knew just how much pain that nickname brought to your heart. Princess. That’s what he had always referred to you as when you dated. In his eyes, you were a princess, his princess. You clench your jaw, trying to stop the tears that swelled in your eyes. Something Zemo picked up on and himself felt pained seeing your reaction.
“Don’t call her Princess. Her name is y/n” Sam says, glaring at Zemo.
“My apologies, it was my fault to refer to your girl like that”
Instantly both yours and Sam’s eyes widen at his words.
“We’re not, that’s not-” Sam starts to say, fumbling with his words
“We’re just friends” you but in, glaring at Zemo for you knew why he said that.
“Y-yeah” Sam replies, looking between you and Zemo as you stare at each other. Zemo tilts his head slightly, the edge of his lips twitching up.
“I see”
“Now perhaps you could stop taunting us, Zemo, and answer Sam’s original question about where the hell we are going”
If you had blinked you would have missed it but just for a split second, as his last name fell from your lips, you could see him flinch. These days everyone referred to him by his last name, never his first name. And although in the past you had always called him by his first name, you, like them, were using his last name. That hurt more than he thought it would.
“I’m afraid I can’t say just yet, but all will be relieved in due time’
You just groan, rolling your eyes and then choosing to stare out the window trying to forget all about the man that sat in front of you.
Hoping to alleviate the conversation Sam nods to the book Bucky took back from Zemo.
“I’ve seen that book, it’s Steve’s book for when he came out of the ice. I told him about trouble man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What did you think?”
“I like 40’s music so…” Bucky grumpily replies
“You didn’t like it!?” Sam exclaims leaning forward
“I liked it”
“It’s a masterpiece James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African American experience” Zemo buts in, speaking with his hands as he looks over to Bucky
Sams’s eyes face moves from looking at Bucky, to looking at Zemo then back to Bucky.
“He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great. Everybody likes Marvin Gaye”
Inside your head, you scoff at Zemo as he talked as if he was sophisticated with music, ‘like you didn’t listen to Nirvana all the time’ you thought. From that point you ignored what they were saying, sipping your drink as you stare out the window. Today had taken a complete turn from what you ever could have imagined it would have turned out to be. And little did you know it was about to get a whole lot messier.
-
“No fucking way. You can’t make me do that”
“You have to if you want to blend in for the mission” Zemo explains
“She can blend in, in many other ways, she doesn’t have to pretend to be your partner,” Sam says arguing for you
“They will be suspicious of her though and it could risk the whole mission but if she was my partner they wouldn’t be suspicious”
“He’s right y/n” Bucky adds, “I don’t want to be doing this either but if we want to find out where the super-soldier serum has come from we need to”
Zemo nods to Bucky in thanks and then looks to you, the corner of his lip twitching up in amusement that Bucky was backing him up and seeing your anger.
He was deliberately trying to antagonise you. Making you pretend to be his partner for the mission, was his way to get back at you for the pain you caused him when you broke things off. You didn’t think you could cope with having to pretend to be his partner for it, it would just bring up all the pain of what had been lost between you two, what you had to let go of. But they were right. You had to do it for the sake of the mission. If Bucky could pretend to the winter soldier again for the mission the least you could do was this.
“Are you seriously taking his side Bucky, if she doesn’t want to be that then-” Sam starts to argue but you cut him off.
“It’s okay Sam, Bucky’s right I need to do it”
Sam opens his mouth in surprise and then moves over to stand in front of you, placing his hand on your shoulder. “No you don’t y/n, don’t listen to them”
You place your hand over Sam’s hand on your shoulder, rubbing it slightly. “I’ll be okay with it Sam. It’s not like I’d be dating him”
Your eyes flicker to Zemo who had been glaring at Sam now turned his eyes to you, his lips almost twitching into a frown but he stops them.
“I won’t wear that dress though,” you say, your eyes looking down to the short dress Zemo held in his arms.
He opens his mouth to argue against that as well but you stop him, “No Zemo, I won’t be wearing that, that is final”
He bites back his words, smacking his lips together as he nods, “If that is what you wish”
You weren’t ashamed of your prosthetic leg. It was a reminder to you for all you had given to people. But you weren’t about to walk around Madripoor with it being showed off to everyone. And a part of you wasn’t ready for Zemo to see you with it, though you don’t know why.
You hadn’t been to Madripoor before but it didn’t surprise you that Zemo knew the place well. It looked like the shady place you would find him in. As soon as you stepped out of the car Zemo’s arm wrapped around your waist. It fitted like nothing had changed in the time between. Your face instantly turned to him to tell him to let go but he held his finger up to your lips to stop you, “For appearance y/n, you are after all, for this evening, my partner”
Begrudgingly you accept it and don’t try to move his arm away as you walk together. Sam walks up beside you and as you turn to look at him he rolls his eyes. You chuckle at Sam then felt Zemo’s grip on your waist tighten.
As you walk into the bar Zemo takes a seat on the stool. You glance around but all the other seats had been taken. Smirking Zemo pats his lap, “Hop on princess”
You grasp onto his shoulder, pinching it harshly to cause him some pain as you position yourself on his lap, but he just chuckles at your reaction, his hand instantly going to rest on your tigh which was thankfully covered by your trousers.
“Don’t call me princess” you whisper angrily to him
He leans forward, his lips by your ear as you feel his breath, “We have to make it realistic princess, plus I think that would be the sought of a nickname I would give you if we were dating”
He presses a lip to your cheek as he pulls back from you, chuckling as he sees how your cheeks heat up and the glare you grace him with.
“Hello gentlemen and lady,” the barman says finally coming over to you, “I wasn’t expecting the smiling tiger”
“His plans changed, we have a business to do, with Selby,” Zemo says, trying to take over all conversation so no one gave themselves away.
“And she does as well?” he asks, nodding to you
“Anywhere I go she goes with me” Zemo replies, chuckling as he looks at you with a smile on his lips
“Isn’t that right princess?”
You try your best to push back the anger you felt, instead, forcing a smile as you look back at Zemo, “Of course my love” you tell him then leans forward to place a quick peck on his lips.
As your lips lightly brush against his you could hear the slight hitch in his breath and as you lean your head on his chest you wonder if he could feel how fast your heart was beating in your chest.
It’s just for appearances, that’s all you tell yourself but even though it was brief you could still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, that comforting feeling that you hadn’t felt in so long and it was as if all the buried emotions you had come flooding back. Here you were sitting on his lap, kissing him as if nothing had changed and for a moment you wondered if that could be the case. Could you two go back to what time was like before?
But you couldn’t. Not only was it down to the fact that Zemo was a wanted criminal, but he had moved on from you. He fell in love with another, he married her. Any feelings he had for you were long gone and this was just him messing with you, and you didn’t want to let him know the feelings you still had for him after all this time.
The barman seems to accept your display though, choosing to focus on Sam instead as he makes him his ‘usual’ drink.
Zemo orders you and him a drink which you thankfully take from his hand, hoping to drown your feelings away with the alcohol.
A man comes up behind you and instantly Zemo lifted you off your lap, pushing you behind him as he stands up to face the man.
“Got word from on high, you’re not welcomed here,” he tells Zemo,
“Hm” Zemo replies, nodding as he takes the man’s words, “I have no business with the power broker, but if he insists he can either come talk to me...” he finishes, nodding over to Bucky
“Or bring Selby for a chat”
The man leaves as Bucky looks over to Zemo. As Zemo turns around once again his arm wraps around your waist.
“A power broker, really?”
“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar”
“Do you know him?” you ask and Zemo looks down at you amused by your question, “Only by reputation”
“In Madripoor he is judge, jury and executioner”
Zemo’s eyes focus now on another man coming towards him. Turning back around to the bar he speaks to Bucky in Russian just as the man places his hand on Zemo’s shoulder. You all turn around to watch as Bucky grabs the man and starts to attack him. You’d seen violence before but it still made you wince knowing how Bucky didn’t want to do this.
After one particular nasty hit without thinking your hand grasps onto his hand, needing something to hold on to. As soon as you realised what you had done you swiftly try to pull your hand back but Zemo holds onto it tight, refusing to let it go. You could feel his gaze turn to you but you choose to ignore his cocky face and instead focus on Bucky.
You stand out of the way as Bucky slams the man onto the table and Zemo leans forward to let Bucky know not to take it too far. That was your ticket though as then you were being shown the way to see Selby.
The meeting itself wasn’t too bad. Zemo held onto your hand as he pulled you over to sit with him. He talked to Selby while you just sat on his lap. Selby didn’t pay any attention to you, which you were thankful for. Things were going smoothly until Sam’s phone ringed.
That’s how you found yourself running along with Bucky, Sam and Zemo avoiding gunfire. As you ran you heard one gunfire and felt your prosthetic leg move slightly as the bullet went straight through it.
Zemo must have seen what happened as well, but not knowing you had a prosthetic leg, he wrapped his arms suddenly around your legs, picking you up bridal style. He ran off to the side, leaving Bucky and Sam behind as he hid you down an alleyway.
“Zemo let go of me!” you hissed, hitting him in the chest as he stopped running. He instead places you on the ground, growling at you not to move as he starts to check all his pockets in his coats. Instead, you do move, getting up off the floor and he looks at you angrily. “I said don’t move! You’ll injure yourself more”
You lean down and jank up slightly the trouser leg, showing the fake metallic leg underneath.
“I’m fine Zemo! It’s fake. Now we need to go and find Sam and Bucky”
But Zemo was frozen, staring down at your leg in shock. Because at that moment was the realisation for him. All this time he had been teasing you, testing the waters of how far he could push you to admit to the past. Messing around with you as if you were two lovesick teenagers again. But you had both changed, and he was refusing to realise that until now. Because he didn’t want to acknowledge the fact you were no longer the woman he once knew. The one person he knew better than himself and he had still half-believed that was the case until now. You had a fake leg, lost in what he assumed was the army which you and Sam had been in. He didn’t know because the truth was you were almost a stranger to him now, and he hated that. He just wanted things to be the way they once were. That’s what he desperately craved but it couldn’t be.
“Okay,” he simply says and nods, finally pulling his gaze away from your leg and up to you. Following your lead, he chases after you to find out where Sam and Bucky had gone.
-
Sam paced around the main room of Sharon’s house. His mind was occupied with so many thoughts it was hard to concentrate but there was one that stuck out like a splinter in a thumb. What the hell was going on between you and Zemo? He wasn’t stupid he could pick up on something, the looks two you gave each other, the tension in the air, the way you reacted when you first saw him. Sam considered himself your best friend, though you two hadn’t seen each other in ages. So it bugged him how this was obviously something big to you, and he didn’t know what it was.
Zemo sat at the table by the side, quietly drinking some whiskey. Both you and Bucky had decided to retire for the night while Sam decided to stay up just so he could find out the truth.
“You look like you are trying to burn a hole through my head by the way you are staring at me Sam” Zemo says, finally looking up from his glass to Sam who was glaring at him.
“Is something the matter?” he asks
“You and y/n. What’s up with that”
Zemo chuckles, looking back down into his glass, “Ah that”
“I’m her best friend, I know everything about her, apart from this apparently”
Zemo’s eyes snapped back to Sam but this time there was no amusement in them, instead a angry glaze as he frowned, “Best friend?” he repeats, standing up and walking over to Sam. “You hardly know her at all”
Sam scoffs as he raises an eyebrow at Zemo attempting to get into his face. “And you do?”
“Yes” Zemo instantly replies, “I know she was born in Novia Grand, Sokovia. Just like me. I know which schools she attended, the same as mine, I know what her favourite meals are, we had them whenever she came round to my house. I know her favourite band, I took her to their first concert. I know everything little thing about her Sam, and you know nothing”
Sam’s eyes widen at Zemo’s confession, realisation dawning on him. “You were childhood friends”
“More than friends Sam, we were lovers. We were the first people we dated, we were each other first kiss, we were each other first time” Zemo claims as if bragging to Sam
“Yet you didn’t know she was in the Army, you didn’t know she had a prosthetic leg did you?” Sam asks and when he sees the slight fall in Zemo’s face he smiles, “You used to know her Zemo, but obviously, you don’t know the person I know now”
-
With a pair of tweezers lent to you from Sharon, you pull your trouser leg up and search around in your prosthetic leg attempting to find the bullet lodged inside and pull it out. You could see the bullet but you couldn’t quite get the right angle to pull it out making you groan in annoyance.
You were about to throw the tweezers across the room in anger when you heard a knock against the door. You were currently sitting in one of Sharon’s guest rooms as lot were staying at Sharon’s place for the night to rest up then go and find the scientist tomorrow morning.
“Y/n?” you hear his voice call out from the other side
You sigh rolling your eyes, “What do you want” you snap
“May I come in? We need to talk”
“I don’t want to talk”
You hear the click of the door and Zemo pushes it open to stare at you in a slight annoyance. His eyes then move down to the tweezers in your hand and your leg. He takes a few steps towards you, his hand out as he closes the door.
“Let me”
You hesitate for a moment but finally, give in and hand him the tweezers. He pulls out a seat beside you and gently puts the tweezers through the hole in your leg.
“How did it happen?” he asks as he concentrates on your leg while at the same time trying to create polite conversation.
“Like most injuries out there. One of the soldiers was on the floor, shot a round of bullets into my leg. The doctor there couldn’t save my leg so I had to get it amputated”
He nods, finally grasping the bullet with the tweezers and started to pull it out. “Serving in the army, it’s admirable. Something very like you. I was in the Sokovian armed forces. EKO scorpion”
You nod as you watch him pull the bullet out and place it to the side. “I remember reading about it in the news”
His eyes, flickering to you, glimmer with amusement. “So you kept track of me?”
Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he caught you out. You glance away from his intense stare instead to the table. “Did you really expect that I didn’t? You once were my best friend Zemo. It’s hard to let that go. I saw you got married, had a child. I’m sorry about what happened to them”
It was Zemo’s turn to look away now, feeling the pain in his heart ignite as he thinks back to his previous family. “My son, he was born on your birthday”
“I’m surprised you remember my birthday”
He smiles slightly, finally turning his eyes back to yours, “Of course I do. Every year I’d drink a toast to you. You said that I was your best friend and hard to let go of that. Well, it’s the same both ways y/n. I couldn’t just forget about your existence.”
“I had to leave” you whisper
“I know. I know why you left, and I know why you broke up with me in the first place”
Your eyes flash to his in surprise and widen seeing how they were swarmed with tears. “Because of my family, they never would of let us marry because of your status. Y/n I would have left all of that behind for you, without a second thought”
Shaking your head you reply, “I couldn’t have asked that of you Zemo”
“And that’s one of the reasons why you are so perfect. You always put me before you, now this time I am asking you to finally let yourself choose. If you want me to leave say and I will leave. But if you don’t say I will stay with you, and I won’t let you leave again”
“We’re not who we once were, Helmut” you mutter, finally letting yourself use his first name and with that, he already knew your choice. His hand goes up to cradle the side of your face gently, moving it nearer to him.
“Then let’s discover each other, all over again”
Your eyes fluttered shut as he pushed his lips on you, fitting perfectly against yours as if they were made for you. He poised there, hoping he wasn’t being too forward but his lips smirked as you started to move your lips on him, crashing them on top of his for action, which he kindly gave.
His tongue poked your bottom lip, begging for entrance. One which you allow as you wrap your fingers behind his neck, getting tangled in his hair.
You could hardly believe this is where you were, once again with Zemo, his lips upon yours, desire between your legs. In the last twenty years, you had often dreamt of reuniting with Zemo, experiencing this moment again but you never thought it would happen. But here you were.
His hands travelled down your back, swooping under your butt as you wrapped your leg around his waist. Swiftly he lifts you off the chair and walks you over to the bed, placing you down on it and crawling on top of you.
His lips trail down your cheek, across your jawline and down onto your neck, sucking on that delicate pulse spot. A moan escapes from your lips and he pulls back chuckling. “For so long now I’ve longed to hear you moan for me Princess”
You just groan, your hand pushing his face back into your neck making him laugh but he quickly goes back to making a hickey on it. His fingers trail down to your shirt, slowly lifting it and once again he pulls away to be able to lift the shirt off you.
He holds back for a moment to admire your beauty. His hands move behind your back and swiftly undoes the clasps on your bra, tugging it off. He groans seeing you for all your glory and buries his head in your boobs. ‘Oh how I have missed these’
While his mouth latches onto your breasts, smothering them in kisses as his hands go to undo the buttons on your trousers. He starts to tug them down, with no sense of being gentle but rather a primal urge taking over him. He manages to tug them off you and then his lips move down even further. He trails his tongue from your breasts down your belly, leaving a trail of saliva. As he reaches your underwear, his teeth latch onto it. With a slight groan from his lips, he then pulls them off, sliding them down your legs and flicking them off to the floor along with your other discarded clothes.
He sighs in contentment as he buries his face into the side of your thigh as his fingers trail your prosthetic leg. Leaning forward he places a kiss on it, then trails upwards, littering it in soft kisses. The only softness you’ll be experiencing tonight.
As you feel him get nearer your core you let out a shudder in anticipation, as you shudder you feel his lips suddenly press against your core. He instantly latches into your clit, his tongue dancing on it, twisting it in circular motions. Your hands instantly grasp his hair, holding him close to your core, not letting him go. Not that he ever want to. Sandwiched between your legs is where he belonged.
“If I remember correctly, you always liked this part”
You let out a shocked gasp as suddenly a finger presses against your entrance and then slips inside of you, with ease from how wet you have become. He slides the finger all the way into the end, letting a moan rip out of your throat.
“It seems I do remember correctly”
“Instead of commentating everything why don’t you put that mouth to good use” you groan, pushing his face back into your crotch. His tongue instantly went back to your clit as he started to thrust his finger in and out of you, making sure it brushes against your walls. As you start to let more little moans he thrusts another finger inside, opening slightly to stretch you out.
You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening as he worked his tongue on your clit and his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. Then his fingers hit just at that right spot and your walls fluttered around him. You hardly got enough time to choke out a warning before you were gushing all over his fingers. When your climax started to edge away he pulled his face back from your clit, removing his fingers and while holding your eye contact he stuck his tongue out, lapping up your juices on his fingers.
He moans slightly as he licks it up, his eyes fluttering half close, ‘Mine Gott, I forgot just how good you tasted’
“Well let’s see if you are as good with that dick as you were in the past” you tease, pulling his face towards your to encompass in another kiss. As your hands hold his face to yours his fingers feel up the side of your waist, ghosting over your skin creating goosebumps.
You could sense when his fingers started to trail to his trousers though and you pull away from his lips making him whine.
“Strip for me”
He tilts his head smirking as he looks up into your playful eyes. “As you wish my princess,” he says as he climbs off you, standing at the end of the bed. Slowly he tugs off his large coat off, laying it on the side of the bed. Next, he works on his turtleneck, slowly tugging it up to his chest, then over his head. Soon it joins the steady growing pile of discarded clothes. Next, he quickly tugged down his trousers and boxers, his patience starting to wear thin.
As he pulled them down exposing his dick you hummed in approval. “Now isn’t that a sight for sore eyes”
“And you were complaining at me for talking” Zemo murmurs, stepping forward to crawl back onto you but your hold your hand up to stop him. “Put the coat back on”
“I see in our time apart you’ve become more demanding,” he says as he picks up the coat and slides it back onto his naked body. As he finally gets to crawl back on top of you, you grasp the fur collar and pull him closer to your face.
You run your fingers through his hair, making it even messier than it was before. Parts of it fell onto his forehead. His hands move down to hold his dick by your entrance, rubbing it against your folds. For a moment he hesitates, moving his head to rest against your forehead in anticipation.
“You’re still as beautiful as when I last saw you”
With that, he pushes into you, rather quickly because of how desperate he was to feel you around him. As he bottoms out he groans, pushing his face into the crook of the neck as you grasp the back of his head gasping. He stays still for a minute, treasuring the feeling of your walls clasping onto him. Then slowly he pulls mostly out of you, till just his head hung in your, and then thrust back into you.
He started to pick up speed, hearing the increase of your moans against his ear. His grunts and moans start to intertwine with yours as you both chase your pleasure.
“Gott, you are so perfect my princess. You feel so good around me” he’d groan into your ear as his hips thrust repeatedly into your, the sounds echoing on the walls of the room. His fingers sneak down your belly to your core, rubbing against your clit. Instantly your back was arched and your fingers grasped onto the coat.
“God Helmut, I don’t remember you being this good” you moan and with your words he speeds up, pumping inside of you. His head kept brushing up inside that perfect spot inside and with his fingers twisting on your clit you could feel your climax steadily approaching.
“H-Helmut, I’m going to, soon I’m-” you tried to get out between moans but there was no need to as Zemo could feel how close you were for the way your walls clung around him tightly.
“Come for me Princess, let me feel you. I need to feel you again my love, after so long”
And his words were music to your ears as you feel the knot within you snap and your wetness gushing over his dick. Zemo bites down on your neck, trying to be gentle, as he feels your walls grasp you even tiger as he thrusts into you. Not long after he felt his own release coming and as you lay there panting he thrusts in time to his release until he squeezed out every last drop.
He hovers over you for a moment, panting, wanting to remain in your warmth for just a moment longer but eventually he pulls out and collapse beside you.
He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, burying his face in your hair.
“Thank you Helmut” you whisper
“No my princess, thank you for forgiving me for everything I’ve ever done to you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I don’t deserve your love but I desperately need it. I won’t lose you again my darling”
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wandsandwheezes · 4 years ago
Text
Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH6
one // two // three // four // five
Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, masturbation, hate sex, heartbreak, blood
Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.
A/N // thank you to my angst goblin, Lanie @gcdric​ and my angel Zahra @starlightweasley​ for helping me get this one out bc otherwise id be STUCK
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The sound of the answer machine rang through Fred’s flat, he was staring out over London and her twinkling lights. His waistcoat was loose, hanging open at his chest - tie discarded the moment he stumbled through the door. He’d pretty much flung the sliding glass door to the balcony open, letting the biter breeze whip through his hair, blowing the once still curtain so that it flew in a way that mimicked the way a superhero’s cape flows. 
The night of partying had been a wild but well needed distraction. Fred couldn’t stop the image of your kiss from playing over and over in his head, his fingers ghosted over where the absent feeling of your lips lingered, wishing you were here. 
“Freddie…” You breathed down the phone, your words slurred still as the liquor clung to your senses. 
“About what happened tonight, I don’t think it was-” His heart began to race at the simple thought, the steamy kiss was crossing his mind once again, He heard you take a moment, a pause for thought and he held his breath with you. 
“I just - we need to talk. We- I have something to tell you.” You sighed, he was praying he could just call you back, checking his watch, he knew it was too late. What If he did call, would that be so bad? 
“I’m sorry, Fred.” the sound of you putting down the phone echoed in his brain. Sorry. What could you possibly be sorry for? It could possibly be one of the best kisses of his life. He couldn’t deny the electricity that he felt from tip to toe and he knew deep down that you felt it too. So why did he feel a pang of sadness hit his chest, winding him like a dementor was sucking the soul out of his body.
Fred fell asleep that night clutching his pillow as he imagined you in its place. He wasn’t sure what made the tears roll down his cheeks, but shrugged it off as the alcohol getting to him. He was snivelling, contemplating leaving you a text. He needed you to know how he felt, that he was aching for you to be with him. He didn’t want things to just be staged anymore, there was undeniable chemistry there between you, he felt it in the way you looked at him. Surely it would be better if you were his, he could kiss and hold you all he wanted without the need for press or cameras. You could have a beautiful, normal life together. You were one of the last thoughts on his brain as he drifted off, his grip against the plush pillow only growing tighter out of desperation. 
Waking to the midday sun shining directly into his eyes wasn’t making the pounding headache rattling around in his skull any better. Fred didn’t remember anything about how or when he got home, only recalling the mellow flow of your voice reverberating around his flat. He managed to drag himself from his bed, searching every unorganised cabinet for the sight of even one lonely ibuprofen, sighing as his head fell to rest on the counter with no luck. He realised the grave mistake he had made when his head started thumping, the room spinning and his sight going hazy. Water, he needed hydration.
Two pints of water later, Fred was still feeling the sour effects of last night’s burning liquor, feeling the burn in his chest with every breath, like all the liquid was ready to come right back up at any moment. He sat himself down at the island counter as he pressed the button to replay the voicemail from last night. 
I’m Sorry.
The words wouldn’t leave him, he replayed the voicemail over and over, internalising every single word as it played through the speakers. He sat for hours, sat too long until his feet had gone numb from dangling over the seat. The Great British weather had taken its turn for the worst, a clap of thunder distracting Fred from his thoughts, not knowing how deeply the words were hitting him, until he felt a tear drop against the back of his hand. It was too much for him, realising that he needed to see you, touch you, feel you. 
I’m Sorry
His feet dragged him towards your place, he didn’t care that he’d been walking for miles or that the rain was drenching him to his very core. It was desperation that drove him to find you. It was like a sign to him that one lonely red rose grew from a bush he passed, stopping dead in his tracks before turning around to look at it. He plucked it from the bush, holding it up to his nose, breathing in the scent. Rose petals mixed with the cold drizzle and muggy air sent him over the edge. He was walking quicker now so that he could get to you, pace kicking up into a small jog, his shoes slapping against the wet pavement with each step.
One light shone dimly from the confines of your apartment. Fred stood outside, debating how he was going to approach this conversation. He loved you, wanted you to be his and he struggled in that moment to find the appropriate words to express it. You were towel drying your hair, supposedly from the rain as you came into view by the window. You looked like an angel, a pure piece of heaven on earth and his heart beat faster, beginning to move closer to the flat’s entrance. That’s when he spotted another figure coming into view from the window, face covered by the towel as you dried their hair. Whoever it was, had at least a foot on you height wise, their hands snaking around your waist to pull you tight and close to them.
Fred’s heart sunk, like it had fully fallen out of his ass, seeing you in the arms of another man made his stomach churn, his grip on the rose growing tighter as the thorns pierced his skin. He didn’t even feel the pain, just the emptiness in his chest. He watched as you pulled the towel from the figure’s face.
The messy ginger hair, round cheeks and adoring smile were obvious. Fred knew exactly who he was seeing, he was blinking so hard wishing that it was just a terrible nightmare. As George’s lips connected with yours, it was as if it rumbled Zeus himself, a bolt of lightning illuminating the dark sky. It was like watching his whole world come crashing down, watching you chase his brother’s lips desperately, the same way you had done with him last night. He couldn’t help but watch as the kiss deepened, George using his strength to pick you up, watching your legs wrap around his waist, walking out of sight. 
It was like watching a glimpse of a life he’d never have, the rose fell to the floor, petals breaking off of the stem. Blood was dripping from his hand to the floor, diluted by the rain as it splashed against the stone. Not a single car drove by your house, not one person was outside but Fred in that moment. Loneliness was the only bitter feeling left, it tasted like hell in his mouth, unable to shake the image of you and George together, only hearing two words in his head over and over like a broken record.
I’m Sorry. 
Raindrops danced along Fred’s skin, the soft pitter patter mocking him, everything reminded him of you, even in a moment of heartbreak, the glow of Christmas lights, the thunder or the distant sound of horns beeping at one another, it all reminded him of you in the most ridiculous way. His phone chimed, pulling up the messages he realised that his thoughts had overpowered the importance of the messages.
>> I miss your touch Freddie
>> I can come see you tonight
>> why aren’t you responding Fred?
>> don’t you love me?
‘Maybe this is what I need’ Fred thought, Perhaps he needed the out, the quick fuck to get the aggression out of his system. They say it’s wrong to sleep with your boss, but Cherry wasn’t his boss, she was just the publicist. The publicist you shared. If you could sleep with anyone you wanted, why should he feel guilty about it now? After all, if there was one woman who could help him forget, It would be Cheryl. 
<< sorry, doll
<< of course i love you
<< come see me x
>> I won’t be long, i’m so desperate for you, Freddie x 
It was wrong for him to say that, especially when he didn’t love cherry. Not one ounce of his body felt a connection deeper than just sex. That's all it was to him with Cherry; mindless, carefree sex. Why he kept going back to her like a lost puppy however, was still up for debate. 
Cheryl wasn't an unattractive woman, but she wasn't you. She was taller, accentuated by her constant need to wear heels, not that it mattered much to Fred when he towered above most people he met. She had long blonde hair that was always beach waved and perfectly sun-kissed skin like a Miami model. Fred didn't care too much about superficial looks, but it was undeniable that part of the reason he enjoyed Cherry so much was the way her tits, although obviously fake, would bounce in his face begging to be touched as she sank down onto him or the way her full lips looked as they wrapped around his throbbing cock. Fucking Cheryl from behind was as much fun, he had all the ass he could hold onto before him and a tight cunt that always struggled to take him. 
Reaching his home Cherry was already waiting for him. She spun around as soon as his presence behind her was felt, lips attaching to his immediately. The red lipstick she wore while unique to her, was now being transferred to the man's lips as they kissed. He wasn't disappointed to be kissing someone, it was disappointment that it wasn't you. Your kisses were heaven compared to what he was getting now, he found himself picturing you in his arms and that seemed to work. 
They wasted no time stripping each other's clothes off, Fred was aching to pound his cock into something, even if it had to be Cherry. When the girl tried to straddle him, he grabbed her hips, throwing her against the mattress, causing a giggle to erupt from her lips. "Hands and knees tonight, Doll." 
Being seethed inside Cherry felt amazing. He tried to stretch her out, push as much of himself inside as he could, but she was simply so tight. The pace he set was animalistic, fucking the girl raw against the sheets, he couldn't stand to look at her, closing his eyes and pretending it was the girl he’d been longing for. It wasn't enough, he needed more control. Fred's hand was pushing Cherry's face into the sheets, his thrusts more violent and possessive as he continued fucking her senseless. 
Back at your home, George was seethed all the way inside you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The way you two fit together was like lock and key, a perfect size for each other. "I'm so deep inside of you princess, can you feel me in your belly?" You were nodding, grabbing his hand to press against your abdomen, his thrusts were slow and purposeful, he was trying to make you cum over and over and over again tonight and you were already waiting for number four. "Yes Georgie, right here, it feels so good when you fill me up." he hummed as he felt the tip of his cock hitting where his hand was pressed with every thrust. His precious girl. All for him. 
Fred was on the edge, skin slapping as he chased his orgasm, Not caring much for Cherry's desperate moans, no matter how good he was making her feel. He wanted her to shut up, it sounded so fake, but he was ready to release, pulling out to let his cum drip over the curve of her ass. He flopped on the bed next to her, immediately feeling her hand on his cock, stroking gently. "You're so good, Freddie, So big." 
She took him into her mouth with ease, it was the only time he could be fully inside of her. His head was back against the mattress as he pictures your soft lips replacing hers. His hand came up to stroke her hair as she continued sucking him off. Try as he might to cum again, he knew it wasn’t your hand on his cock, or your lips. It was another woman, the thought made him sick to his stomach, forcing him to sit bolt upright, pulling himself away from the naked girl on his bed.
“I can’t do this.” he grumbled, grabbing the boxers he had discarded on the floor, pulling them up. Cherry sighed, running a hand through her hair and pulling it over her shoulder, “Do you want me to stay Freddie?” she smiled, playing with the ends of hair as she watched him walk into his bathroom across the hall. “I don’t care.” he spoke plainly, the hurt in his chest hitting him once again as he slammed the door behind him. 
He could still hear the hums and moans you made against his lips. As he leant against the shut door, his hand reached down to start palming himself, feeling himself grow hard again at the thought of you. He was picturing you sprawled out on his bed, begging for him, using your mouth to get him off - He was getting close again as he imagined slamming his hips into you. Just as he reached his peak again, one thought plagued his mind, you moaning his twins name. His heart broke again as he came, sighing as he realised that he was too late. You weren’t his to have.
/// TO BE CONTINUED ///  >>>>>> Chapter Seven
taglist //  @starlightweasley​ @slytherinsunrise​ @gcdric​ @theweasleysredhair​ @whiz-bangs78​ @weasleysflowr​ @vogueweasley​ @minty-malfoy​ @vivianweasley​ @feetoffthetablee​ @thisismynerdyself​ @rip-us​ @witch-and-a-half​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @pandaxnienke​ @loony-loopy-lupinn​ @pigwidgexn​ @mackaywhore​ @softlyqoos​ @colorfulprofessornickelangel​ @fandomscombine​ @satellitespidey​ @txtdreamss​ @aaannabbanana​  @starkidpotty​ @mollydarling-hphm​ @amwithers2001​ @mrmoonyy​
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avenueofesc · 3 years ago
Text
On Days Like This
The next installment of Gambling With Your Soul. If you would like to read in order, please read as follows: Rolling, Dancing With The Devil, and Shooting Stars. Warnings: Second Person POV, Sex, Drugs, Alcohol, Depression, Suicide Attempt.
You see them, standing right in front of you…
Isn’t it what everyone wanted?
The Chosen One and His Chosen One.
It’s not you.
It was never going to be you.
But you don’t know who you are without him.
You take another drink, relishing the burn as it sears at your throat.
The pain is a comfort.
He comes to you in the dark of night. When shadows conceal him—when even the savior is hidden.
Everything you need, standing in front of you.
Well beyond your grasp.
Reaching for you…
Like a secret…
Like a curse…
---
Here you go again…
You want him to tell you…
You want him to tell you he hates you…
You want him to tell you you’re a bigot…
You want him to tell you you’re a prat…
You want him to tell you that he loves you.
He won’t.
And yet…
“Potter, what—“
Shadows envelop you, darkness embracing your bodies, temptation licking at you as you succumb to passions that you should not crave.
He pushes you back, fingers digging into sharp hips.
Desperate.
Teeth biting into flesh.
Fingers twisted in hair—
Silken blond strands—
Messy ebony curls—
Pulling.
You need it.
You need him.
Gods—
Pain shoots through your body, quickly soothed by pleasure.
Clothes are torn from your body, cool air caressing your skin as you are pressed down, down, down…
Satin sheets, whispering against your flesh...
Wet lips, suckling at your jaw…
Sharp teeth, nipping at your collarbones…
“Fuck—” you gasp, arching your back as he attaches himself to your neck, licking at your pulse, “—Harry!”
You lose yourselves.
In the pleasure.
In the passion
In the desire.
In the absolute inevitability of heartbreak…
“Tell me—” he groans, rolling his hips into yours as he huffs a warm breath against your nape.
You arch beneath him, lips parting, desperate for air…
…for truth…
…for lies.
You want to tell him.
His hips stutter, emerald eyes boring into your own, shining with a light as bright and deadly as the killing curse, “Draco…tell me.”
You can’t.
You fall into one another.
You can’t.
---
Your fingers tremble against porcelain as you sink into the water—a warm comfort you do not deserve.
You let your head rest heavily against the edge, eyes caught on the empty vials scattered across the floor.
The wand is solid in your grip, its magic familiar in its pull.
You do not tremble as you rest it against your wrist…
“Sectumsempra.”
It cuts deeply, down to the bone.
Just like that first time.
You cry out, grimacing against the pain…
…against the relief.
Red bleeds into the water, a bright bloom.
Proof of life.
You let go.
You let yourself drown…
Deeper…
Deeper…
Until—
Fingers clutching at your arms, pulling you up.
Water licking at your sides as someone moves behind you, holding you against a solid chest.
A desperate sob—
“Vulnera Sanentur…”
You gasp as skin begins to stitch itself together—
“Vulnera Sanentur…”
Whispers against your ear, soothing nothings that mean everything—
“Vulnera Sanentur…”
—as you are held afloat.
He rocks you back and forth in the bloodied water.
An anchor.
You rest your head against a strong shoulder, eyes flickering until you meet vibrant green—life shining within, as bright as the blood surrounding you.
You whisper, “I’m sorry…”
“Shh…it’s alright. I’ve got you, Draco.” Firm fingers wrap around your scarred wrist, lifting it to soft lips. “I’ve got you…”
Read it on AO3 | Huge thank you to @frenchmarshmalloww and @fw00shy. I love you both so much! 
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curly-bangtan · 5 years ago
Text
Heatwave Drabble #8: contaminated
[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first!
Pairing: Taehyung x reader
Summary: We’re always gonna be contaminated.
Genre: drabble, angst, fwb au, roommate au, f2l
Warnings: more feels!
Word count: 4.1k
A/N: Title named after the song Contaminated by BANKS. (Should give it a listen after reading!) Unedited!!!
.
“So what you’re telling me is, you fucked your roommate slash best friend who thought you were seducing him in the middle of a heatwave, and now, 9 months into sleeping together, you’re in love with him. Not only sleeping with, but also doing domestic coupley things like cooking together and cuddling during Netflix, but you guys not once made it official, or even exclusive because you both have commitment issues. And you thought he loved you too, so you decided to test him by saying you’re going on a date with someone to see his reaction, only for that to backfire right in your face because he slept with someone out of anger.”
You blink. “Man, why d’you have to put it like that?”
“Put it like what? I just summarised everything you told me concisely.” He laughs and pulls you in closer. You can’t help but note how different he smells, not bad, but just not what you’re used to. “So in conclusion, you’re both idiots and now you’re heartbroken.”
“I- I’m not heartbroken, I wouldn’t go that far. I’m just… a bit bummed out.” You avoid his gaze, squirming in his arms because the heat under the covers is starting to get to you.
“Wow, one night with you and I already know how stubborn and headstrong you are. You literally teared up a minute ago when you were talking about him. This is your problem: even now, you’re not willing to admit your true feelings. How well has that worked for you so far?” He shakes his head in dismay, his investment in your predicament surprisingly genuine.
This is a weird as fuck situation you’ve gotten yourself in. Out of desperation for relief from your, okay fine, heartbreak, you went out last night and came home with a guy. Taehyung had also gone out, and judging by the fact that it’s now the morning after and he still has yet to return, you can guess the direction in which his night went. It stings, but now you’re a hypocrite. This guy who you don’t even know the name of, Club Guy, has turned out to be more than just a fuck though. He knew he was the rebound for someone else, and he was more than glad to help. But one thing led to another, and the next thing you know, after your third round, you are pouring your heart out to this guy - this random, incredibly attractive, amazing at giving head, guy from the club.
It would be awfully strange, except he is unusually good at comforting people. You’re might consider keeping this one as a friend.
“Dude, I know it’s not my forte. I’m not good at expressing my emotions, okay?” You revel in the softness of his fingertips as he feathers your back. The sun is peeking through your curtains; you’re counting down the minutes until Taehyung returns, but at least speaking to Club guy is taking your mind off the fact that he was with someone else last night. “Yes, I’m heartbroken. I… I fucking love him. I know it was my fault for trying to get a reaction from him, but I just wanted him to say it, you know? Say that he loves me out in the open and that he wants me to… I don’t know, be his girlfriend. Girlfriend? Is that the right word? It sounds so weird. I don’t fucking know.”
Club Guy rolls his eyes, sighing at your ineptitude to grasp the simple concept of love. “Yes, girlfriend. God, you’re so annoyingly cute.” He smiles a smile at you that others would surely swoon for, and though your mind is too preoccupied with the boxy grin of someone else, you appreciate the warmth in his eyes. “Look, was it the night before the last that this all went down?”
“Yes.” Too fresh, too soon for you to be sleeping with someone else, you know. But you needed it so badly, you just needed to take your mind off him.
“What about the morning after? Surely you’ve seen each other since. From how you described him, I feel like there’s no way he could bring someone home knowing that you’re in the room next door.”
The memory sears.
You distinctly remember hearing their awkward morning-after conversation out in the dining room. After a long debate of whether to go out and reveal yourself to them or not, you decided that, fuck it, you’d already cried yourself to sleep last night because of this stupid son of a bitch, there is no reason for you to inconvenience yourself just to save Taehyung an even more awkward encounter. And so you stormed out of your room, eyes probably still a bit puffy and red, pretended you can’t see them and proceeded to make yourself a smoothie.
Yes, a homemade smoothie. You made sure to turn the setting of the blender all the way up so it was as loud and noisy as possible. You’re petty like that.
Especially because she’s using your mug.
Taehyung’s look of surprise when he saw you come out of your room did not give you even a fraction of satisfaction. Just a sad pang in your heart.
“I- Oh. I didn’t know you were home.” There was shame in his voice, and you hated every twist of your heart that it elicited.
You ignored him, not even a second of eye contact, poured that mango and berry smoothie and padded back into your room.
You had cried into your smoothie because his hair was messy like it usually was in the morning, voice still a deep rasp and eyes not fully open yet. And you had wanted to hug him so badly.
“It was awkward. I was a cold bitch and ignored him when I interrupted their breakfast. But no, he didn’t know, he was shocked to see me home.” You mutter, burying your face into your pillow to try to forget yesterday morning.
You could have said something, at least shown how hurt you were so he would apologise. Because you know he would apologise. But of course, you had a prideful image to uphold. Classic classic.
“Then…” Club Guy runs his fingers through your hair, twirling at the ends. “Then I feel like it’s really not too late. I’ll be out of here soon, and when he comes back, just sit him down and speak to him calmly. Calmly being the key word here. Explain to him that you weren’t actually remotely interested in the guy you went on a date with, and just wanted to prompt him to make you his. Tell him that you made a mistake and you’re hurt by what he did, but you can look past it because you were both in the wrong. Or maybe just tell him that you love him and don’t want to be with anyone else. It’s your choice whether you tell him about you and me, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him is all I’m saying.”
You contemplate his words. It sounds easy as hell when he says it like that, but you know when the moment comes, you will freeze up, panic, and muck it up somehow. It’s just a ‘I’m sorry’ and three simple words. Yet it feels like the most difficult thing you’re going to do.
“But what if he doesn’t understand. What if he doesn’t even like me like that, I feel like I could be grossly misinterpreting things.” You’ve pondered about this possibility since two nights ago. Afterall, how could he just go out and sleep with someone like that right after your fight if you mean so much to him? But then again, look at you now - likewise in bed with someone, albeit mostly for therapeutic reasons.
Club Guy shakes his head looking at you, almost in pity at how you could possibly still not get it. Smirk playing at his lips that remind you so much of Taehyung’s smugness. Fuck, it hasn’t been two days and you already miss him so much that your bones ache.
“Look, your best friend is head over heels in love with you and you’re seriously blind for not being able to see this earlier. Didn’t you say he would stay up all night with you during exam season to make you coffee and massage your shoulders? There’s no question about it, the guy is more whipped than whipped cream.”
Club Guy sits up, the covers falling off his front to reveal his toned sparsely tattooed body. You watch him wordlessly get dressed, the storm that is your mind whirling you into pieces. He’s right. He’s so right, and you hate it. The solution is honestly so simple. You and Taehyung are like two dots on a blank page. Instead of a mere straight line to connect the dots, you drew spirals around each other, closer and closer but never touching.
Should you tell him about Club Guy? You feel like you should. Though he is right, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. But you don’t want any more games, anymore dishonesty. Straight line.
“Uh, thank you for talking this out with me, I appreciate it. I’ve had no one to talk to about this because none of my friends know about him and I, and it’s kind of too late for me to drop the bomb now.” The awkwardness begins to trickle in, on your part at least. Club Guy just smiles that smile at you, rather pleased with himself.
“I should have charged you for that.” He shimmies into his skin tight black jeans, eyes crescent in amusement.
“What, the sex or the therapy session?” You joke. It’s sad because he has such potential to be a great fuck buddy, and you 9 months ago would not have hesitated to make him your next booty call. But the truth is, even as you were kissing, fucking someone else, you were imagining Taehyung the whole time.
If love is a sickness, you’re plagued on your deathbed.
Club Guy laughs. “If it doesn’t work out, call me I guess. But I’m rooting for the two of you idiots. You better not fuck this up.” When he slides into his shoes, you realise how much you dread him leaving. Firstly, because finally speaking to someone about all your pent up emotions for Taehyung feels like a weight lifted off your chest. Secondly, because you really don’t want to be left alone right now. You don’t want to agonise over every second that Taehyung isn’t home yet.
Lethargically, you stretch over the covers and roll out of bed, your limbs feeling especially heavy with the looming pressure of what you have to say to Taehyung. “I’ll… walk you out.”
The next series of events happens in shutters.
Mid yawn, as you’re scuttling down the hallway after Club Guy to see him out, the front door swings open. Taehyung walks in in yesterday’s clothes, wearing a miserable expression to begin with. But when his eyes glance up and locks on your male company, his face…
Shatters.
You have never seen Taehyung’s temper explode before. You’ve witnessed his grumpy tantrums, his quiet sulking, but this - a detonation of pure rage, catalysed by shock - runs your blood ice cold.
‘What the fuck?’ His voice is deadly low, eyes flying between the two of you. And instantly, you’re filled with a reciprocating anger. He can’t possibly go off on you right now, he can’t have the fucking nerve. Not when you hadn’t said a word about him and that girl yesterday.
“Holy shit…” From the corner of your eye, Club Guy turns a ghastly sheet of white.
It doesn’t dawn on you until he spits his name out like poison. ‘Park Jimin, what the fuck?’
And sense exits your brain.
You can’t move a muscle if you wanted to, nor utter a sound. You feel like flotsam, swept away by a roaring wave. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. Of all people, all people, you slept with Park Jimin. As in Taehyung’s ex-best friend who his girlfriend had cheated on him with, Park Jimin.
“Oh my fucking god. Kim Taehyung…” To his credit, Jimin can at least speak, unlike you. Gone was the lovely, charming guy talking you through your crisis. He brushes his hair back in disbelief. “I- What the fuck… I swear I didn’t know she’s your girl.” You try not to let the words ‘your girl’ sink in too much. Because you were his, even if you weren’t.
“I swear to fucking god. I give you 10 seconds to leave my house before I kill you.” Not only can you not believe your poor luck of managing to bring home Jimin of all people from a random bar, you also cannot believe the fury seething from Taehyung, someone who you no longer recognise.
Jimin does not need to be told twice; he spares you one last glance before dashing out.
After the door slams, there’s just silence. Your eyes fixed on Taehyung’s, mind trying to comprehend how royally you’ve fucked up once again. You’re desperately trying to convince yourself that it isn’t your fault, you didn’t know. But the hurt trickling through Taehyung’s angry facade inoculates you with enough guilt to make you nauseous.
“Seriously?” Taehyung is trembling, from rage or heartache you don’t know. “You fucked Jimin?”
“I… I had no idea, I swear, Taehyung.” You want to move towards him but your feet stay planted on the ground. Your own throat is trembling, definitely out of heartache. You can’t imagine the pain tearing through him right now.
Another moment of an agonising silence. Every second you’re just standing there flabbergasted is a fresh stab to your chest. How did you two get to this place?
“So you fucked him? Yes or no?” When his voice cracks, it takes everything in you to keep the tears from springing.
You swallow. “Yes.”
Taehyung shuts his eyes, and it feels like he’s shutting the chapter of his life that is you. The end is looming, you can feel it. You don’t see how you two could possibly recover from this. How could he forgive you?
“Did it not cross your mind that that Jimin you were fucking could be the Jimin who stole my ex-girlfriend? Like the Jimin that led me to move in with you in the first place? Did I seriously not cross your mind even once?” His words are a slap after slap, no, even more physical than a slap.
Did he not cross your mind, he has the audacity to ask. He was the only thing on your mind, that idiot.
“I didn’t know his name, Taehyung.” You try to suppress the surge of injustice you feel. Of course you thought about him. How could he even ask something like that, as if you’ve done this out of malice.
“Oh, right.” He scoffs, shoulders dropping. “I forgot, you fuck guys without learning their names.”
And just like that, the line between sadness and anger is breached.
“Excuse me? What did you just say to me?”
“Do you want me to repeat it?”
Somehow, anger hurts more than the guilt you had felt. It manifests as something grotesque festering away in your chest, all the bitterness, the tears, the heartbreak, all condensed into this ugly emotion.
“Taehyung, you went and fucked someone first while I was in the room next door.” His tightly drawn brows soften a little. “I heard everything, every creak of the bed, every moan, every fucking thing. You have no idea how much that killed me, not a single fucking idea.” You feel your face crumpling, eyes stinging, and you hate falling apart like this in front of him, but there’s nothing holding your broken pieces together anymore. “I didn’t say a single word about it, shit, I even let that bitch use my mug while I was dying inside. And now you have the nerve to pin this on me and make me feel like a worthless piece of shit.”
You watch it dawn on him, the distraught state of your mind. And you want it to feel like a competition, like ha, you hurt me way more. But it isn’t. There is no winner. There’s just you two, gradually losing each other.
“I was drunk…” He croaks. “And I didn’t know you were home, I thought you went home with Junho.”
“You really think that little of me. Then you don’t know me at all if you think I would’ve done that. But look at yourself, you didn’t text me once that night, just went straight out to the club and fucked some girl. And what about last night? You didn’t come home either.” You hiss, pitch raising.
“I didn’t sleep with her last night. I couldn’t even kiss her for more than a minute on her bed because it felt so wrong it made me fucking sick. I stayed on her couch and thought about you all fucking night. Happy?”
The truth rams into you no lighter than a train. You curse yourself. You curse him. This spectacular mess is unravelling so devastatingly that you want to scream. You can’t stomach the thought that you were fucking Jimin while he was thinking about you. Your situations mirrored one night after the next.
“And you say you were dying inside, but what about me? Hmm?” He flings his arms in exasperation. “Well what about me? How do you think I felt when I found out you were going on a date with some guy I’ve never heard you mention? How do you think I felt when you left me here all alone after that fight to wonder what the hell you were going to do with him that night? What else could I have done except get so drunk that I didn’t even remember my own name?” Seeing pain splatter across his beautiful features perhaps ruins you more than anything else. But your own pain is ringing.
“You didn’t even text me once! All you needed to do was tell me not to go, and I would have fucking stayed!” You cry, your throat dry and clogged.
“Did you want me to get on my fucking knees and beg? I didn’t have a right to tell you not to go. If you wanted to go, who am I to stop you?” He yells, a sheen now coating over his eyes, much like your own.
“GOD, I didn’t want to go, Taehyung! I don’t like him at all! Junho was nice but my mind wasn’t on him for even one second. I was coming back home to tell you I love you because I can’t stomach being with anyone else. But guess what? You were out pulling someone else because I clearly meant so little to you. Then I had to stay up all night listening to your fucking sex noises. I’m not the one who fucked up first here.”
Taehyung takes a breath to retort, but stops. Nothing but woundedness in his eyes. It’s clear that your words are embedding into him. The I was coming back home to tell you I love you. His expression falls, rapid breathing slows.
You’re looking at each other like you don’t recognise the other. Because it has never been like this between you two before. He has never felt more foreign, distant.
And when a wave of silence to calm you both has passed, he says quietly, “Why did you have to do that to me in the first place? I… I thought it was clear how I felt…”
The thundering tempest of your temper eases completely at the brokenness in his eyes. Acrid taste of regret in your mouth at the words that you hadn’t meant. Taehyung wasn’t the one who fucked up first, you shouldn’t have pulled that whole date thing. If you had just trusted him, and given him time, you would not be here right now.
But look at you two, fighting once again. Calmly, Jimin had said. And even that, you weren’t capable of. This is a childish game, the tossing of blame, and you’re drained. You don’t want to fight anymore. You don’t want to hurt. But you don’t know how to end this without ending everything.
“You really, really hurt me, Taehyung. But I was still willing to let it go. I was waiting for you to come back to tell you that… To tell you how I feel.” Your voice is soft now, diminished to just more than a whisper. You feel so extremely vulnerable, your frame creases inwards.
“You slept with Jimin…” Taehyung breathes, fists slowly unclenching. “Y/N, not just anyone, Jimin. I know I’d be a hypocrite if it were anyone else, but it’s him.”
“I didn’t know it was Jimin.”
“I didn’t know you were home after the date.”
For a good long second, you just stare at each other, chests heaving, throats raw, and you wonder if you are going to kiss and make up right this instant. Because for a moment, it feels like you could. It feels like you could forsake the past and just start anew.
But the window for that opportunity passes by as neither one of you takes a step forward.
You’re going in circles, you know.
“This isn’t going to work.”
Despite everything, this has been the hardest thing for you to say yet. And this time, you let the tears roll down. Your heart is screaming at you because it is on fire, but you persist through it because you know this has to stop and he doesn’t have the heart to say it so it has to be you.
And you just look long and hard at Taehyung, watch his eyes widen, shift, as he registers the finality of this outcome. It has been a wreckage. Only fragments of what once was a beautiful thing is left. You can’t keep hurting each other like this, and he finally knows it.
“What do you mean?” He asks, as if your heart hasn’t broken enough.
You want to fall onto your knees and sob.
“I mean, this needs to end. We’re doing and saying things we don’t mean and causing each other so much pain. If it was meant to work, it would have worked. I don’t want to keep doing this, Taehyung. Let’s stop this before we hurt more.”
Falling. Tears keep falling.
You’re breathing, yet choking on air.
Taehyung’s cheeks are stained, eyes rimmed with red. You have to clamp down on your lips to prevent yourself from crying out loud. When he closes his eyes, streams flow out, and you don’t think you’ve ever experienced greater pain. You want to hold him so badly, so badly. You want to tell him that you’re sorry for everything, and that you’ll always forgive him no matter what he’s done. But you can’t. Because you know things can never return to the way they were. Neither of you will be able to forget what the other’s done, it will live in the back of your minds, eating away at your insecurities.
Your love is tainted. Contaminated. And always will be now.
And even still, the selfish part of you wants him to say something, protest, fight for you. But you know he won’t. Because you know he knows it won’t be the same.
“So this is it? It’s over?” Cracks in his voice, cracks in your hearts.
It’s over.
But you can’t say it, so you just nod. All of this, just gone within days. Was your love so fragile to begin with? You were such a fool to believe that it would be enough.
“You can stay here, I’ll go.” You finally tear your eyes away from him, vision but a white glassy blur. You would rather him stay, it’s the least amount of respect you could offer to show how much he means to you.
And as you’re about to turn away, “You know that I love you, right?”
He says it, the first and last time you’ll hear those three words containing the meaning you’ve been seeking.
The tears don’t feel like they can stop.
“I know. I love you, Taehyung.”
And that has been your problem. You love each other too much but trust yourselves not enough.
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A/N: Sorry SORRY!! Don’t hate me… ;----; one part left </3
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22/02/19
© Copyright 2020
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@taexxxiiaa @shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @deliciouslydisturbed365 @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae @out-of-jams@camilaxpolanco @d-noona @haechanspudu @dawnispeace @vante-visuals@liquanzhe222 @bangtanloverrrrr @inner-monologue @bs14401 @seokjoontae @trviahope @comingjimin @jeonsshadow
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butgilinsky · 4 years ago
Text
hard decisions // ds
warning; language, mentions of sex ig, angst (i’m so sorry) 
summary; you and drew have to come to a decision, even if neither of you like the one you choose.
word count; 3.6k+ of absolute heartbreak 
based off of these blurbs that i wrote and keep getting reqs for a part three or a whole ass fic so- i think we knew which one i chose.
i love madelyn, so pls don’t think this reflects my feelings on her bc it doesn’t, i just had to pick a person to get caught in the crossfire
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you were starting to regret this dinner. you loved your friends, and you were happy to spend time with them when you weren’t all filming for outer banks or all of your side projects, but it was a less than ideal situation at the moment for you. 
you were picking at the nail polish on your fingernails to distract yourself from the conversation playing out at the dinner table. this dinner was a mistake, and coming while you and drew still had unresolved problems between the two of you was a mistake.
you should’ve at least come to a common ground before coming out tonight, or maybe you should’ve just stayed home. it was hard, when some of the people at the table had no idea about the rising tension between you and drew. they’d noticed you two were less touchy and smiley with each other than usual, but they tried not to think too far into it. 
the only people that knew the severity of the situation were austin, along with both maddies. one of those reasons being that madelyn was slightly involved in the mess of it, though she didn’t ask to be. madison and austin became your crutch along the way, being the ones you’d turn to when things got messy and you needed a place to stay after your apartment grew to tense. 
drew was talking to maddie while you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself and listen to the story austin had been telling. you were trying to block out drew and maddie, truthfully, but you that proved to be hard when he made yet another comment about the top she was wearing.
“can you quit flirting? i’m right here.” you snapped, your eyes burning a hole in the boy beside you. you earned a few glances around the table, and drew looked down at you, practically mortified at your outburst. 
“i didn’t mean to-”
“well you did, and it’s annoying as fuck.” his eyes widened, as well as a few across the table while maddie stared at her lap, feeling her shoulders slump at the idea that she was unintentionally causing rifts between you and your boyfriend. 
it was unlike you to start a conversation like this in front of all of your friends. you and drew were good at keeping your cool until you got in the car, leaving your friends to believe that nothing was going on just before world war three began on your drive home. 
they knew things were off between you two, but you both plastered believable smiles on your faces and tolerated each other long enough to at least make it to the elevator of each building without even making a snide comment. 
“can we not do this right now?” his voice lowered, and he spoke through his teeth to try to underplay the anger bubbling inside of him, but you knew you only had to push a little further to get him to give in.
“can you not flirt with my best friend right now?” drew rolled his eyes again, breathing out through his nose before standing up.
“y/n, we’re not doing this right now.” he turned away from you, looking at the less than exciting table cloth in front of him, desperately trying to ignore the gazes on him. you let out a short laugh, making his eyes snap over to you momentarily. 
“it’s never the right time to do this, isn’t it?” he sighed heavily, realizing there was no way out of this conversation with you. 
“if you want to talk about this now, can we at least go outside?” you scoffed softly but stood up anyways, letting drew apologize to the group while you walked towards the entrance of the restaurant.
he was hot on your heels after apologizing to your friends, forcing a short smile at them waving him off, telling him to go deal with the mess you both made. they whispered about the two of you after you left, but neither of you needed to know that. though, they did find it odd that madelyn didn’t contribute much to the gossip. 
“you’re unbelievable you know that? you can’t let it go for one fucking night? what’s wrong with you?” you paused in stride, turning on the balls of your feet to peer up at your boyfriend, who was fuming right in front of you.
“i’m unbelievable? i’m not the one that’s been acting like we aren’t even dating anymore! if you want to be with maddie so bad-”
“for the last fucking time, i don’t want to be with maddie! i don’t know what’s got that so heavily ingrained into your thick skull but i don’t see her like that!” people were trying to ignore the two of you in order to walk into the restaurant, but it was hard when you were so close to the front door, in the middle of the sidewalk.
“could’ve fooled me, drew. anybody with a set of eyes would think that you’re trying to make passes at her.” he groaned loudly again, sending his foot into the brick wall beside the two of you. “you know what, you go back inside and spend time with everyone, i’m going to go home.”
“y/n, don’t do this tonight. this is one of the last times everybody will be in the same place at the same time before we start filming. just come back inside-”
“i don’t want to, drew! i can’t act like we’re fine right now, and i sure as hell don’t want to listen to you talk to maddie all night long. so i’ll see you at home.” part of you wanted him to keep fighting for it. you wanted him to want you to come back inside, but the small part of him that wanted that was outweighed by the part of him that wanted a break from your incessant attitude. 
you would’ve felt bad for taking the car, given that you two showed up to dinner together, but you knew maddie would’ve been more than happy to drive drew home, which was just another thing you’d argue about once he got home. drew had half a thought to follow you, go home with you and fix this situation before it progressed, but he ignored the thought and walked back inside of the restaurant.
you cried in the car, punching your steering wheel a few times until your hand started to hurt and you tried to clear your vision. you started your car and drove home, earning a few texts along the way. madison and austin asked if you were okay, given that they were the closest to you out of the group and probably had more insight than the others about the situation you were in. 
you sent a quick ‘i’m home, i’m okay’ text to both of them and threw your phone onto the counter before sinking yourself into the couch. you didn’t get to catch the look that the the two of them sent each other across the table, neither of them believing you from the way drew was tense the rest of the dinner. 
you sat on the couch, staring at the glass of wine in your hands that you poured over an hour ago and had only taken a few sips from. you had full intentions of drinking it faster than you sat down, but that proved to be difficult with the thoughts running through your mind. you figured alcohol would only make those thoughts harder to think through. 
you sighed when a knock on the door echoed off of the walls, placing the glass on the coffee table and standing up. you reached for the handle, but paused, staring at the door in front of you.
“baby, i don’t have my keys.” you sighed gently, the lump in your throat making you hesitate from swinging the door open. “y/n, please.”
you opened the door, watching drew sigh heavily when your eyes met. you turned on your heels and walked away from the door, letting him catch it for himself before he walked inside.
“are we going to settle this?”
“i don’t know, drew. are you going to stop acting like maddie’s your girlfriend just to tell me that it’s nothing and i shouldn’t worry about it?” he groaned loudly, kicking his shoes off by the door.
“y/n, this is getting out of hand. i’m sorry if i’ve crossed a line here and there, but-”
“crossed a line here and there is a bit of an understatement, don’t you think?” he growled softly, hating when you cut him off and didn’t give him room to speak. “you haven’t talked to me like that in weeks, drew! you compliment her every time you see her, you dance with her when we’re out and barely talk to me the whole night. if you want to be with her, drew-”
“you know, y/n, despite the fact that i keep telling you that i don’t want to be with her every single time we have this conversation, you’re sure as hell making me want to be.” he growled at you, standing face to face with you and watching your tough demeanor diminish.
your lips parted, and you tried to say something, anything in response. but you couldn’t. too many thoughts swam through your mind and none of them could break the barrier to actually come out.
“maddie wouldn’t act like this, y/n.”
“i hate you.” it came quickly, and it stayed soft. every crack in your heart that built up over the weeks pouring into the three words.
“no you don’t.” he shook his head, his shoulders slumping. he knew you didn’t mean it, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt him to hear it. you had never said things like that to him. “no you don’t.” he repeated.
you shook your head then, your chest tightening at the situation as a whole. you didn’t know what was going on between the two of you but it needed to end soon, or it would end forever.
“we need to stop doing this, baby.” you nodded, eyes watering at the thought that you’d possibly lose drew forever, sooner than you ever expected. 
you had been arguing more in the past few weeks than you had in the entirety of your relationship. you didn’t know what it was, or how things progressed to this point, but you knew that things were tougher than they ever had been. 
you knew that every time you saw drew with maddie, your skin crawled. it was hard enough in the group when maddie and chase separated, and you didn’t want to add to that by splitting up from drew. it wasn’t that you wanted to, because you’d convinced yourself that you were going to spend the rest of your life with drew, but if things stayed like this, that didn’t seem likely anymore. 
“c’mon, let’s go to bed. we can talk about it in the morning.”
you nodded again, feeling a pair of lips press against your forehead before drew walked around you and towards your bedroom. you turned around, facing the door that he stood in front of.
“come to bed, baby. i’m sorry.” you sighed, eyes glued to your feet as your chest continued to ache.
“not until you apologize.” drew sighed softly, restraining himself from getting angry all over again.
“y/n, i just said i’m fucking sorry.” he caught himself getting angry again and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “i don’t want to fight all night baby, please can we just go to sleep?” you nodded, though you knew you wouldn’t sleep well that night. 
and you didn’t. neither of you did, but you weren’t about to find comfort in one another when that was the sole reason you weren’t sleeping well. you’d been in and out of sleep for a few hours when you pushed yourself out of bed completely, throat scratchy and head slightly throbbing. 
you walked out of your room, shutting the door behind you in an attempt to muffle any noise you would make in the kitchen, and slightly hoping that drew was sleeping soundly. he wasn’t. 
you made coffee, something that you usually did when one of you couldn’t sleep, and despite every bone in your body telling you to sit out there by yourself, you poured drew a cup. you made it the way you knew he would and took it back into the room, seeing him sitting up against the headboard and rubbing at his eyes. 
he had a book in his lap, the lamp on his side of the bed switched on. he looked up at you once the door opened, a soft smile creeping onto his lips at the sight of you holding two cups. 
you knelt down on the bed and moved to the top of it, handing drew his cup and smiling at the soft ‘thank you’ he offered. you drank most of your cup in silence, letting drew read the chapter in his current novel, before setting an almost empty cup of, now room tempered, coffee on your nightstand. 
you sat beside drew, dropping your head on his shoulder and letting out a sigh through your nose. he folding the corner of his page once he finished his paragraph and shut the book, letting it fall onto his lap as a signal that you had his attention - if you wanted it. 
“do you think we’re going to make it?” you whispered, picking at the almost nonexistent nail polish on your fingers, despite the fact that you painted them yesterday. 
“i don’t know.” he spoke truthfully, which you appreciated, but it tugged at your heart. it hurt to know that the two of you were on the same page of not knowing where this path was leading the two of you. “i hope so.” 
“me too.” you said softly, feeling the tears in your eyes come back from hours before. 
the sleep deprivation along with the unruly emotions you had put yourself through for the last couple of weeks was enough to bring tears to your eyes within seconds. there was no point in blinking them away, or trying to hide them from drew. 
they were falling down your cheeks and onto his shoulders in record time, making you unsure if you were glad he wasn’t wearing a shirt or not. on one hand, you weren’t ruining one of his shirts - which you had plenty of experience with - but on the other other hand, he was able to recognize the feeling of a wet shoulder within seconds. 
“baby, come here.” he whispered softly, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. he knew there was almost nothing he could do to cease your tears, since they were built up from all of the argument you’d been having. he couldn’t take back his words or his actions, but he could prevent them in the future - hopefully. 
“i don’t know how to fix this, drew.” his hand found its way underneath the shirt you were wearing, tracing small shapes across your back. it was something he did a lot, when you couldn’t sleep or were stressed out from work. it was one of the only things that seemed to soothe you without fail. 
“i don’t either.” he whispered back, setting his chin on top of the head resting against his chest. 
truth be told, he’d done everything he could think of. he’d given you space when he thought you needed it, and that didn’t seem to work. he tried to not get angry without reason, but he couldn’t seem to help it. he tried to minimize the amount of arguments, as well as the severity of each one. nothing worked. 
the two of you were in a rut, and neither of you knew how to get out of it. you were due for season two of outer banks in a few months, and you didn’t know how that was supposed to work. if you two had to get on a plane and fly out tomorrow, you knew it would end badly. 
you knew that if the two of you had to act together right now, the scenes between your characters weren’t going to help your relationship at all. your characters were both hotheads, spending most of your shared screen time yelling at one another. 
“what do we do?” you asked through your tears, not bothering to hide the crack in your voice. 
“there’s only so much we can do, y/n. we either have to find a way to fix this or we have to-” he stopped himself, his voice cracking before he could even mutter his next suggestion. his heart was breaking, as was yours. 
truth be told, your hearts were breaking because you knew what you should do. you knew that despite everything that the two of you felt for each other, there was only one way to truly fix the unbreakable tension between you and your boyfriend. 
staying together didn’t seem to provide any solution. you’d tried to work on this, and it ended in a different argument every time. neither of you saw a light at the end of the tunnel, and the only way out was an emergency exit. 
“i don’t want to.” you didn’t want to say it. you didn’t need to say it. he knew exactly what you meant, because he didn’t want that either, but it seemed to become clearer to both of you that that was the solution for right now. 
“neither do i.” you clung tighter to him, and he held onto you when your body started to shake. 
it was hard, to come to a solution that neither of you liked the idea of. you told yourself that no matter how much it sucked to fight with drew, you’d rather fight with him every day than go a single day without seeing him. you’d seen him everyday for the past year and a half. working with your partner offered that luxury, and now you weren’t going to have that opportunity for a few more months. 
“i guess i should go in the morning.” you shook your head at his words, wanting to rid yourself of the growing feeling in your chest. 
“i’ll go. your name’s on the lease.” he didn’t say anything after that, having no desire to get into an argument about who moved out of the apartment you’d been sharing ever since you got back from filming. 
“can you stay until the sun comes up?” you nodded, not wanting to move even when the sun peeked through the curtains, but you knew that if you didn’t go then, you’d never go and the two of you would spiral into the same pit you’d found yourself in for months. 
so you laid there, wrapped in one another’s embrace for the next few hours. there were shared words and tears, as well as kisses and touches. there was a connection between the two of you that neither of you had felt in what seemed like forever, but it gave you hope. hope that if you revisited this part of your life anytime soon, you’d be able to pick it up from where you left off before you dove into this rut. 
and when the sun came up, you unwrapped yourself from the boy, eyes bloodshot and bags darker than they’d ever been before. you didn’t want to leave, a soft but noticeable voice in your head telling you that the last few hours might have been the beginning to the next era with drew. 
but you got up and packed your bags, because you knew that was the right choice. you packed a duffle bag and slipped the essentials into your backpack after drew told you you were welcome to come back a different day for the rest of it. 
he was hoping that the next time you stepped into the apartment, you’d stay. 
and you found yourself standing at the door, both of you crying just as you had done just a few hours earlier. he kissed you once, longer than a normal kiss but shorter than a suggestive kiss. he was asking you to stay, and you were telling him you wanted to. 
but you turned on your feet and you walked down the hall, leaving the apartment and the boy that lived in it behind you. and it took you all of ten seconds of being in the elevator for you to break down, body shaking and tears freely flowing. 
you were able to stop them long enough to make the short drive, but the second you’d turned your car off they started again, not stopping even when you knocked on the familiar door and austin stood in front of you, understanding without saying a single word. 
he wrapped you in a hug, because this hadn’t come as a surprise to him, and he held you while you violently sobbed into him. you didn’t have to tell him with drew, and you didn’t have to ask to stay here, because the bags under your bloodshot eyes and the bag on your shoulder told him you needed a place to stay. 
“drew and i broke up.” he sighed softly, hand holding your head into his chest as he racked his brain for ways to make this situation any less shitty. 
he didn’t come up with any. 
“can i stay here?”
“of course you can. come inside.” 
250 notes · View notes
nalgenewhore · 4 years ago
Text
Slipping Through My Fingers - Sixteen
masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 
warnings: ...nsfw...
an: happy birthday @soitsgorgeous ! ALSO i just rlly want to post this 
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“No, come on, Ae, please stop,” Elide said, “it’s been a week. I need to go home.” 
“But,” the blonde protested, looking around desperately until she huffed a breath and pouted, “you’re my baby sister. I gotta protect you.” 
“I know that,” Elide said, pulling her sister in for a tight tight hug, “and I love you for it. So much, girl. But I can take care of myself.” 
Aelin huffed again, rolling her eyes when they broke apart, “Ok. If you want me to come over, just call, ok?” 
“Ok, mama,” Elide whispered, kissing the back of Aelin’s hand. “I love you.” 
“Love you too, baby,” Aelin whispered back, waving at her as she walked down the hall. 
The elevator was empty as she rode it down to the garage and no one was there either, though she saw row upon row of cars while walking to her spot. Mere steps from her driver’s door, her phone rang, deep in her pocket, and Elide shifted her bags to one arm as she dug into her pocket and hastily grabbed it. 
She didn’t look at the caller ID as she picked the call up and pressed it against her ear, breathlessly replying, “Hello?” 
There was a pause. And then, “Hey… it’s me.” 
She froze, her blood running cold at the familiar voice. She stayed silent, not knowing what to say or how to say it. She hadn’t heard his voice in a week. He sounded as bad as she undoubtedly did, his voice hoarse and rough as he rasped into the receiver, “E, please. Please just say something. Tell me you’re still there.” 
Elide’s chest ached with suppressed tears and she bit her lip to keep from crying. She wanted so badly to comfort him, because she loved him and he was in pain, but she was in pain too. She was hurting more than him. “I’m here.” 
“Thank the gods,” he muttered, sniffling once, “I want to fix this, E. Please, just give me a chance.” He fell silent and neither spoke as he waited for her response. When she didn’t answer, he continued, “I know I don’t deserve it at all, I know that, but…” 
Despite knowing it might make her hate herself for it later, Elide found herself telling him to meet her at her place in an hour. Then, she got in her car and tried not to cry as she drove home. 
+*+*+*+*+*+*
When she got back to her apartment, Elide dumped her clothes from Aelin’s in her laundry basket and swept her hair up in a messy bun before she took a quick shower, the hot water helping ease the tension in her body. 
After, she put on a pair of old sweats and the fluffiest fleece hoodie - complete with bear ears. Elide leaned back against her kitchen table and waited anxiously for the knock that came exactly an hour after their call. “It’s open,” she called out, worrying her bottom lip as the door opened and Lorcan walked in, closing it behind him and resting against it. 
Elide ran a cursory glance over him, her breath hitching at the stubble where he would normally shave clean, the slump of his shoulders. He kept his gaze on the floor and didn’t dare take another step as he toed off his untied shoes, the same beat-up Converse he’d been wearing the night they’d met. 
His hair was messy, like he’d ran his hands through it over and over. 
Elide missed when she did that. 
“E…” he started, finally lifting his head up to meet her cold stare with his hollow one, “I’m so sorry, baby.” 
That quickly, the sadness and pain and heartbreak weighing her down turned into anger. She was so fucking pissed. He was such an asshole. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your ‘baby’.” 
“I didn’t mean it,” he muttered and Elide could see that he was fighting his own anger. 
Elide scoffed and shook her head in disbelief. “You’re a bad fucking liar, Lorcan.” 
“I’m not lying,” Lorcan said, a dark storm in his eyes. 
“Well, I don’t believe you. I gave you a chance to take it back, I asked you if you really meant it and you–” 
“And I said I did,” he finished for her, stepping closer to the table. “I know what I said and I want to apologize.” 
“I don’t want your apology,” Elide said, crossing her arms tightly. 
“Then what do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, anything,” he insisted, running his hand through his hair in a gesture of habit. Elide shook her head again, not answering, but he asked again, “El, just tell me what to do.” He wasn’t exactly an expert on apologies, he didn’t have that much practice with them. 
“Give me my heart back!” she yelled, her voice breaking. “Give it back to me, you fucking asshole. I’ve never- no one has ever hurt me like that and it took you a week to get the balls to fucking call me!” 
“Fucking hell, what do you want, Elide?” he shouted back, his voice raised. He tried not to, but Elide was the only person who could get under his skin just like that. “What do you want from me, huh?” 
“I want you to get out of my house,” she said, raising her chin defiantly. “There’s nothing you can give me right now and you should leave–” 
“I love you.” 
She fell silent, looking at him with wide eyes. Elide uncrossed her arms, her hands shaking as she curled them into fists. Then, she looked down at her fluffy slippers, “I don’t believe you.” 
“I love you.” 
“I don’t believe you, Lorcan!” she cried, looking up to stop her tears. “How could I? You don’t trust me–” 
“Yes, I do. I’m an asshole and I’m a prick and you can hate me for it, but I love you. And I trust you with my life. I don’t care if you never forgive me for this and I never get to call you mine again, I will let you go forever if that’s what you want,” he told her, desperate. “Elide Lochan, I love you.” 
He was so close. She could just reach out and tug him to her. Something sparked in her blood and she tilted her head back, cocking her jaw, “I. Don’t. Believe. You.” 
Lorcan’s lips parted and he stared at her, dragging his eyes up and down her. His breathing turned ragged as he stepped closer, cornering her against her table. Elide kept his heavy stare, not backing down as he cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her. But Elide turned her face at the last second and Lorcan just chuckled darkly, kissing her cheek sweetly before he pressed hot, biting kisses to her jaw, then continuing on down the elegant column of her throat to the place that drove her crazy. 
Elide breathed in shakily and she gripped the front of his sweater, tipping her head back to give him further access. Lorcan chuckled again and the rough sound had her toes curling up as her clutch on his top tightened. 
He sucked a bruise into her pale skin, pulling back and stroking his thumb over the purple mark, smiling cockily. Elide glared at the smile and decided he shouldn’t be smiling while groveling, so she gripped his collar and yanked him down, “Stop smiling.” 
Lorcan didn’t listen as he cupped her face once more and slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her slow and languid, as if they had all the time in the world. And by the gods, he hoped they did. 
She gasped and Lorcan snaked his tongue into her mouth, kissing her dizzy. 
His back was strained from bending down so he slowly dragged his hands down her sides, sliding them down to her ass and gripping the soft flesh in that way that she was weak for - rough and if a little possessive. Elide moaned like he knew she would and wrapped her arms around his neck, toying with the soft strands at the base of his skull. 
He groaned at the feeling of her long nails scraping over his scalp and picked her up, making her wrap her legs around his waist before he dropped her onto the table. 
Shit, that was a good kiss and her brain was fuzzy. Lorcan pulled back, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them and his lips kiss-swollen. Elide just shook her head, swallowing before rasping, “Not good enough.” 
Lorcan grinned wickedly - he was having way too much fun with his reckoning - and reached behind his head, pulling his crewneck sweater off with one hand, flinging it behind her onto the floor. Elide grinned as well and leaned forward, licking up his sternum, her teeth kissing against his skin as she whispered, “Better. But I’m still pissed.” 
“Let’s see what I can do about that,” he purred, voice dripping with sin. Lorcan tipped back her chin and kissed her one last time before pulling away, ignoring her whine. 
Elide’s frown melted away as he dropped to his knees and tugged her to the edge of the table. Her heart stuttered in her chest and she knew by the end of the night, all would be forgiven and she would tell him she loved him too because she did. More than anything, anyone. Still, she would torture him by making him wait, just a little bit more. 
The feeling of him tugging her sweats down her legs had her coming back to the present. She watched as Lorcan looked up at her through his lashes, grinning as she let out a shaky breath. Then, he looked between her legs, his mouth dropping open as he realized she wasn’t wearing underwear. “Fuck,” he said, throwing her sweats away. “Is this all for me?” 
“Yes,” Elide whispered, her eyes closing as his hands traced pretty designs up her calves, “it’s all for you.” 
Lorcan pulled her legs apart, spreading them as far as they went. His exhales fanned over her burning core and Elide slid her hands into his hair, falling down onto her back as he started to press hot and wet kisses to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. 
She let out a breathy moan as his lips parted and she felt his tongue trace over her skin, tracing over her tattoos and moon-pale skin. Deciding she’d had enough teasing, Elide tugged on his hair sharply enough that he winced and went where she pulled him to. 
“Lorcan,” she whined, arching her back when he pressed a too-soft kiss over her glistening slit, her sex pretty and pink and practically gushing. 
He chuckled, the grating sound sending vibrations through her centre. “What is it?” 
“Just give me what I want,” she begged him, her nails digging into his head. “I want to come, fuck, I need to.” 
Lorcan just hummed and turned his head, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her inner thigh until she was gasping delicately and tugging on his hair as her toes curled. “Tell me what you want, my love.” He licked a path right up to her core, only to back away at the first touch. Elide let out a half-sob, too turned on to be embarrassed with how her liquid arousal was dripping from her. “Tell me how you want it.” 
“I want– Anneith above,” Lorcan swallowed his laughter at the words that spilled from her throat when he bit the tendon between her thigh and pelvis. She was shaking, straining, aching for him and Lorcan smiled to himself, licking slowly over the bite mark before he switched to her other leg, his hands holding her legs apart, but even still, they fought to close around his head and never let go. 
Soon, Elide was begging, pleading with him in a soft, breathy voice, “Baby, please… oh my gods, please, please, I just… I want you, Lorcan, I want you.” When he finally put his mouth on her, Elide nearly cried in relief, his tongue splitting her folds in broad sweeps.
She convulsed at the feeling of his tongue dipping as far as it could reach inside of her and sliding against her walls. 
Elide cried out when he flattened his tongue against her clit and let go of her thighs, coaxing her to wrap them around his head, keeping Lorcan exactly where she wanted him. 
Pressure built under her skin as he worked her into a frenzy, banding an arm over her hips to keep them still as he curled two fingers into her and stroked over that one spot. Elide moaned, tightening her legs around his head. The combination of his tongue flicking over her button and his fingers pumping and scissoring inside her sent Elide into her climax, making her clench around him and roll her hips against his arm. 
Her mind blanked and her body writhed, trembling as his actions didn’t stop until it was too much for her and Elide felt a tear slip free as she pushed him away. She felt, more than heard, him rise above her and lean down, his body slotted between her legs. 
Eyes half-lidded and hazy, Elide reached out for him, diving her hand into his pants and wrapping her hand around his dick. 
Lorcan groaned softly and instinctively rocked his hips into her hand, snapping his teeth at her low chuckle. 
“So needy,” she commented, lazily stroking him as his cock grew in her hand and became slick with the beads of pre cum. With her other hand, she tilted his chin up, his jaw tight, her body caged in by his hands planted on the wooden surface on either side of her. 
Another storm was raging in his eyes, one she would gladly lose her way in. He breathed heavily, trying to keep his control as she stared at him with that one look that he would wreck worlds for. 
Lorcan’s eyes fluttered shut and he bit his lip, groaning softly, “Fucking hell, just- Elide.”
“Mm-hmmmm?” she hummed, running her thumb over the head of his length and scraping her nails over the underside. 
“I need to be inside you.” Elide just smiled coyly until he grabbed her face in one hand hard enough that her jaw might ache in the morning. Her cheeks squished together and her lips puckered out for him to kiss her possessively. He bit her bottom lip, not bothering to lick over the sting as he nearly growled, “Now, Elide.” 
She whimpered softly and nodded, chasing his lips when he pulled back. Lorcan pulled her hand from his pants and then let her tug his jeans down just enough that his cock flipped out. Then, she guided him between her legs, using her fresh release to make him slick. 
Elide pouted when he pulled her hand away from his length but he kissed it away as he slowly slid in. When he bottomed out, Elide whimpered, reaching for the hand on her hip and running hers up to his forearm, “Fuck, so fucking deep.” Her nails dug into his skin and Lorcan slid his other arm underneath her lower back, forcing an arch into her spine. She locked her legs around his waist as he started to thrust into her, watching her hoodie shift with her tits. 
Elide seemed to notice where he was looking and pressed a hand into his chest, forcing him to stop his movements so she could pull it over her head and stretch out languidly, letting it dangle elegantly from her finger tips before dropping it and running her hands down her body. Biting back a groan, Lorcan watched as she cupped her own breasts and toyed with her nipples, all while smirking wickedly at him. 
“Are we supposed to lay still the entire time, my darling,” she pondered in a sultry voice, gasping out a breath when Lorcan smirked right back and sheathed himself in her, keeping her tightly against his pelvis as he grinded his hips into hers. 
“More,” she gasped, her face scrunching up as he slammed into her harder and deeper like she asked him to, completely filling her. “Just like that.” 
“Just like that?” he drawled, leaning over her and trailing his lips over her throat. He moved up to her ear, grazing his teeth over her soft earlobe. Every touch, every brush of his body against hers sent lightning zapping under her skin. He slowed his pace, though his thrusts remained true and deep as she mewled and clawed at his back. Her nails dragged down his skin, almost drawing blood but not quite breaking the skin. 
“Lor… I… oh,” Elide breathed, falling back down to the table as he pulled a hand away and guided her hand between them, pressing gently beneath her belly button. She moaned, her legs squeezing around him as Elide felt something twitch beneath her fingers. 
Lorcan watched her eyes, watched them near roll back in her head beneath fluttering lids and murmured in her ear, gently taking her hand away and pressing her wrist into the wood beneath her. “Feel that?” 
“Yes,” she moaned, crying out his name when he hit particularly deep. Elide could already feel her orgasm build, still sensitive from the previous one. 
A broken moan tore from his throat when her already tight walls swelled around his cock, making pulling out of her an effort of control, like she was trying to pull him back in every time he drew back. She was like a vice around him, so tight and slick and hot. 
Lorcan pulled back, standing up straight as Elide arched her body further, her head thrown back as she felt herself grow closer and closer. “Oh, come on, baby, just come. Come, you’re so close, I wanna feel it. You know how much I’ve missed you, tight around my dick and feeling good like that ‘cause of me?” 
He gripped her hips tightly, pulling her down to meet his thrust and his breathing became laboured when he watched her body seize and shake beneath him, coming undone with the presence of him filling and surrounding her. 
Elide yelled his name, her eyes screwed shut as white-hot pleasure raced through her veins and vaguely, through a shroud of bliss, she felt him come inside of her. Every inch of her body was tingling and sensitive. She managed to wrench her eyes open to see him bow his head, biting his lip as he groaned out her name, barely recognizable. He rocked into her, drawing out both of their pleasures until they both calmed. 
Elide smiled softly as he remained inside of her and leaned down, gathering her up in his arms. Something inside her jellied when she felt his release drip down her thighs, leaking out from around him. She wrapped her arms around him, nearly draping herself over his shoulders and smiling when he bowed his head and kissed her chin, just barely missing her lips, “I missed you.” She missed him so much. 
“I missed you too,” he whispered, kissing her cheek before he pulled out of her and stood upright, helping her up. Elide smiled again, absentmindedly running her hand through his hair as she looked off into the distance, eyes catching on a speck of dust in the moonlight. 
Before she could discern what was happening, Lorcan scooped her up and walked over to her bed, putting her down and kissing her forehead, murmuring, “I’ll be right back, ok?” 
She nodded sleepily and dozed off as he walked away, jolting slightly when the next thing she felt something damp and cold between her legs. Elide looked up from the pillow she was cuddling to find him cleaning her with a cloth. He gently wiped it over her sensitive skin and then tossed it into her laundry basket. Then, he pulled back her duvet and shifted her so that she was underneath it. 
Elide reached out for Lorcan, grabbing at him until he slowly settled down beside her after he left his jeans in a rumpled pile on the floor. He smiled as she curled into his side, hitching her leg over his hip and slotting it between his. Elide hummed in question when he tipped her chin back. His eyes were wholly black as he murmured, “I love you.”
“Mmmm,” she replied, the blissful feeling of sex wearing off and the anger she felt returning slightly. She wasn’t sure if he’d apologized yet. 
Lorcan ran his fingers up and down her spine, the motion soothing for the both of them as something in her kitchen caught his eye. Elide shifted to see what it was when he said, “Essar loved those mugs.” 
She floundered for something to say, but her words were not needed as Lorcan opened his mouth and the entire tale spilled out. 
He talked about everything. How he had met her, how they had gotten together, how they had gotten married a week after graduating high school. He talked to her about the pregnancy, about how Essar wanted to be a social worker and worked tirelessly to juggle growing a child in her body and her graduate degree. Lorcan talked about how the day Kohana had been born, he’d nearly missed it because of a traffic accident that blocked the roads. He told Elide about having a newborn and feeling like they were screwing him up almost everyday. Then… his voice grew saddened and she could hear his grief as he talked about Essar getting sick. 
They had been told it was nothing and they were being hysterical, but then it got too late and the doctors blamed them for waiting this long. He hadn’t known how to tell them that they had been begging anyone to listen. 
It had been too late for her and Essar passed, before Ko had even turned one. Lorcan admitted that he was terrified of forgetting his first love and replacing her. 
Elide propped herself up, her forearms braced against his chest, stroking her thumb over his cheekbone. “I’m not Essar,” she told him, “and I’ll never replace her, but… you’re allowed to move on. From what you’ve told me, she would’ve wanted you to be happy.” Lorcan sighed softly and turned his face to kiss her palm. 
“I am sorry,” he murmured, rubbing her back when Elide nestled against his chest, her ear above his steady heart beating. “I was angry at myself and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair ‘cause you did nothing wrong. My kid loves you and you’re amazing with him.” He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. “I love you.” 
“So you’ve said,” Elide hummed, giggling slightly when he flipped them over and pressed her into the mattress, trailing his lips down her jaw and throat. 
“And you have yet to give me your answer,” Lorcan said, pulling back just enough that she let out a displeased whine. “So what is it, Lochan?” 
Elide shrugged and looped her arms over his shoulders, her hands toying in the air above his head, “Well, obviously, I love you.”
“Obviously? Obviously?” He ran his hand up her body, pinching her side. “You were kicking me out an hour ago!” 
“Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause I was pissed, not ‘cause I didn’t love you,” she told him, as if it were simple. “You are a stupid, stupid man. I had to make you work a little bit.” Lorcan grumbled something and glowered down at her when she patted his cheek a little too hard. 
Lorcan shook his head at her, a fond look in his eyes as a slow smile spread across his lips, “You are…” 
“Ridiculous? Sneaky? Devious? Irritating? Impossible? Ooh, ooh! Infuriating?” Elide took his face into her small hands, smiling cheekily up at him. Her eyes softened when he turned his head to kiss her palm and turned to the other side to kiss her other palm. 
“Gods above, woman, shut up,” he pleaded with her, kissing her as they both laughed. “No, you’re none of those things.” 
“Then what am I?” 
“Everything.”
+*+*+*+*+*+*
an: oh we’re almost done 🥺 wow 
@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @ttakeitbacknoww @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou​ @cursebreaker29 @superspiritfestival @empress-ofbloodshed @queen-of-glass @sleeping-and-books @beccasophia95 @exersize-me-i-dare-u @thewayshedreamed @hizqueen4life @ifinallygavein @bat-wing-rhys @awkward-avocado-s @b00kworm @mu-si-ca-l @lovemollywho @tacmc @soitsgorgeous @staarligght @starrynightsbooks @keshavomit
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czestmememoir · 4 years ago
Text
Reconciliation - Rafe Adler x F! Reader - SMUT!
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Fuck! I'm so fucking in love with Rafe. He's a bad guy but he's also very hot. Dammit.
Before you proceed, let me warn you. This fic has very serious sexual themes that may not be comfortable with you, such as face slapping, and pain kink.
If those make you uncomfortable, I suggest you turn away from this chapter. I repeat. Do not read if you're uncomfortable. Everything you read here is and will always be consensual.
(Edit: reposted bcs i had to add the cut and fix the spacing. the tumblr app is so fucking shitty.
Tags:
reconciliation, heavy pain kink, face slapping, daddy kink, rafe being a big baby, but he's your big baby, Hate sex, but you love each other, dirty talk, crying (in a good way) during sex, choking, squirting, lots of neck and jaw grabbing, Dom! Rafe, soft rafe by the end, basically pure SIN
"Don't think I've forgotten how much of a slut you are for me,"
You checked the time. 1:23AM. You groaned and rolled to the other side of the bed. You couldn't sleep. You were up all night again, overthinking. It was not out of the norm to overthink, in your case. After all, you did go through a terrible heartbreak. Your boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend, Rafe, had decided to break up with you the worst way possible. His words still stung like hell.
"I don't want you in my life anymore,"
It was painful, especially the first few weeks. You were struggling with work. Almost everyday you pondered why he'd do such thing to you. Were you not good enough? Was he cheating? You never knew. Sometimes you'd question yourself if you were even worth it, even til this day. You stared at the ceiling for about solid 10 minutes, before deciding to get up.
"I'm gonna go get a drink," you whispered to yourself, getting up, grabbing your phone and making your way downstairs. You opened the lights, heading to the home bar. It was a small one, but it did decorate your house better. You walked behind the home bar's counter as you grabbed a bottle of whiskey.
(If you don't know what a home bar looks like, go look it up so you can have an idea.)
You grabbed a glass, some ice, and then brought it to the living room, making yourself comfortable as soon as you sat down on the couch, and pouring yourself a drink. You'd take a sip, sometimes downing the drink, as you scrolled through Instagram or Twitter, liking memes and hot people's photos, and eventually playing your typical go-to playlist.
You were (quite rudely) interrupted when you heard someone bang on the door. You frowned, looking at the door. You debated whether you were going to open it or leave it be. Who the hell could it be? For sure, you didn't want to die like the dumb white people in movies, so you were certainly not opening the door.
You didn't get up, not just yet. The banging stops, and then it goes again.You groaned, getting up and looking through the doorhole, expecting a stranger.
But it was no stranger. It was Rafe. Rafe fucking Adler. The man who you loved to bits. Rafe who said he didn't want you anymore. Rafe who said he didn't want to see you. Rafe who had your heart and decided to tear it to pieces. It was strange. What the hell was he doing here, after a year?
You opened the door, a big frown on your face. There he stood, big, black circles under his eyes, and despite his messy hair, he still pretty much looked good. Not that you were going to admit it. You looked behind him, and saw his car parked right in front of your driveway. Asshole.
"F/N."
Rafe was the one who first spoke. You furrowed your brows, and rubbed the bridge of your nose. "Rafe." you said, forcing a smile. "To what do I owe this  lovely  visi-" You were cut off by Rafe grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him, crashing his lips against yours. As much as you'd love Rafe to kiss you and make you feel good right now, you weren't really taking shit from him. Why was he here, anyway?
He held you by your shoulders, pushing you further inside the house, so he could come in, but you pushed him away. "F/N-" Rafe took a step near you. "Don't. Just... Don't." you say. "What are you doing here?" you asked, anger dripping off from your voice. Rafe scoffed, but he couldn't answer. "What are you doing here!?" you ask, angrier this time. "So you're spying on people now?! Huh? Is that what you are? A stalker? A creep? What the hell?!"
"I wanted to see you, alright?!"
You were taken aback. "What- What was with the "I don't want you in my life anymore", Rafe?" you asked. Rafe avoided your gaze. "Look at me! God! I'm fucking talking to you!" you shouted, and Rafe looks at you, pain and guilt in his eyes.
"It's complicated," was his only reply. You looked at him with disbelief. "It's comp... complicated... Right," you laughed a little, running a hand through your hair. "Right. I was complicated. And instead of... Instead of being straight up honest with me in the first place, you could've saved me from losing a job, almost going broke, and a shit fucking ton of sadness and pain!" You shouted, your voice audibly shaking.
"I can expl-"
Slap!
"Go to hell, Adler," you hissed. Rafe hissed, his cheek immediately burning hot from the impact. "I loved you! I fucking loved you! I moved in to New York with you, left my hometown for you, and what, you're leaving me, no, you left me, because I'm complicated?" you say, wiping the tears from your face. You swallowed the lump forming in your mouth, your face hot with the sudden rush of rage.
"I hate you."
"You hate me?"
You crossed your arms. "Yeah." you say. "I don't believe that," Rafe says, before closing the distance between you. He cups your cheek and kisses you. The rough, passionate kiss had said many unspoken words between you two.
I miss you.
Need you.
Come back, please.
I want you.
Only yours.
Yours.
I love you.
You wrapped your arms around him, and he wraps his arms around your waist, feeling comfort with the warmth of your bodies. You hear him kick off his shoes, and he pushes you down to the couch, his knee inbetween your legs to keep them from closing. "You're still stubborn as ever," Rafe says, secretly admiring the F/C, silk nightgown you wore. "No, I'm not," you stared at his lips, then batting your eyelashes at him.
"Shut up." Rafe whispered, his fingers pulled on your hair. You grinned, and Rafe felt shivers trail down his spine with that mischievous grin of yours.
"Make me."
Rafe chuckles at your cocky remark. "You don't want to test me, F/N." Rafe whispers, leaning down next to your ear. "Because as far as I can remember," Rafe pauses.
"I know just how to wreck you."
You could almost whimper. Surely, you missed the way he dominated you. "No you don't." you murmured. "Yes..." Rafe whispered, his grip on your neck tightening.
"... I do,"
You could only laugh.
"Try me,"
"Color?" He asks. "Green," you say. Rafe grabs your jaw, leaning close to you. "I'm still mad at you, Adler," you say. Well, tried to say. "Oh, babygirl. I didn't ask," Rafe purred, his other hand slipping past the end of your nightgown and making circles with his fingers against your clothed pussy. You whimper and Rafe lets go of your jaw. "And for the record, you have no right to call me by my last name," Rafe says.
Letting go of your neck, he slaps your cheek. You yelped. "You will learn to respect me, little girl," Rafe says. You bit your lip. He slaps you again, catching you off guard. "What do you say?" Rafe asked, grabbing your jaw quite harshly.
"What do you say?!"
You whined. Dom Rafe sure was a sight to behold. Fucking Christ, why does he have a big ego? You thought. he lets go of your jaw to fix the stray hair that covered your face.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," you groaned. "What was that? I didn't catch that, little slut," Rafe says, a smirk plastered on his face. You bit your lip. "I'm sorry, Daddy," you hissed. "Good girl," Rafe said, before kissing you. You felt your heart flutter when your lips touched. You missed him so bad. You let out a moan when he starts rubbing your clit again, this time with much more pressure. "Gonna make sure you'll beg me to stop," Rafe whispered, and you gasped when he rips off the lace panties.
"I loved that underwear," you groaned. "I'll buy you the whole lingerie shop," Rafe reassures, throwing away the ripped lace. You let out a breathy moan as you felt his fingers tease your cunt, rubbing your entrance. "You want my fingers, little slut?" Rafe asked. "Yes, please," you muttered. Rafe raises an eyebrow at you, and you knew exactly what he wanted.
"Yes, please, Daddy,"
Rafe looks at you in amusement, and you wish you could slap the stupid smug grin on his face, but that was quickly avoided when he pushes in two fingers in you. Your eyes roll at the sensation, unable to contain the pleasure that sparked through your body. It's been a while, after all.
"My god, look at you," Rafe says, going easy on you with his fingers, slowly pumping them. You whimpered and moaned at every stroke. "I'm barely doing anything and you're already rolling your eyes, slut," Rafe whispers, caressing your cheek with his other hand. "Go harder on me, Daddy," you whimpered, needy and desperate just for him. He wraps his hand around your neck, and you felt him slowly put pressure on his fingertips. "You sure?" "Please!"
He starts picking up his speed, making sure to make you feel how deep and thick his fingers are deep inside you. "Fuck!" you groaned, holding onto his wrist. "Just like this, little girl? You missed being fucked by Daddy's fingers?" Rafe growled, watching your expressions. "Yes, yes, yes, fuck!" you moaned at every pummel of his fingers. "Fuck! Oh my fucking God! It feels so good!" you rolled your eyes. "That's my good little whore," Rafe bit his lip, clearly satisfied with how you responded to his touches. "I'm gonna give it to you til it hurts," Rafe whispered.
You grow wetter by the second, how erotic you felt when you heard the sounds the both of you made in the living room. You tap on his wrist, and he lets go of your throat, letting you breathe again. Your body was on fire, feeling every button that Rafe knew just how to press.
"Rafe, fuck!" You moaned, your back arching, and your chest pressing against his. "That's not what you call me," Rafe growled, harshly biting down on your neck, the taste of copper on his tongue. "I'm sorry," you cried out, your hands clutching on his dark blue sweater, and the way you moaned it out had sent Rafe's cock and ego thriving for more.
"Say it again," Rafe growled. Fuck! Fuck those skilled hands and fingers of his. You thought. "I-I'm sorry, Daddy!" you whimpered, a strong sensation pooling in you. Rafe could just cum in his pants right now. He missed you so bad. He never really went to see another person after you broke up. He couldn't. He knew you were the only one for him, and vice versa.
"Damn right you are,"
Rafe curls his fingers up, and you scream, stars in your vision, an intense feeling rushing through you. "Fuck! Oh, fuck, babygirl! You fucking squirted!" Rafe growled, pulling away from you to look down at the mess you made. His fingers stopping. Your face reddens, unable to look at him. It wasn't the first time that happened, really. It's Rafe Adler, for fuck's sake.
Rafe laughs in amusement, biting his lip. "Do it again," Rafe says, his fingers ramming in you without any hints of mercy. "No- Daddy- Rafe- Fuck!" You rolled your eyes again, your chest heaving as you wailed. "C'mon, little slut, gonna squirt for me?" Rafe groaned at his tight pants. "Yes! I-I'm gonna fucking cum, Daddy, fuck!" you moaned, knees wobbling as you felt yourself gush again on him.
His fingers ride you out from your high, your knuckles turning white at how tight you were holding his sweater. "I wanna taste you," you muttered, one of your hand trailing down to his clothed bulge.
"Pretty please, Daddy?"
Rafe groaned, his cock twitching. "Fine," he grumbled, standing up. You laid there, checking him out, and how his sweater still defined his lean body. "Well? Get on your knees," he says, and you scoff but obey, getting off the couch and kneeling for him. You watch him take off his belt, and he emitted a dominating aura (Big dick energy, actually). You unbutton his pants, and you pull it down, revealing the boxers that outlined the shape of his dick.
"Look at what you fucking do to me," Rafe growled, grabbing your hair. You pull out his cock from his boxers, and well, no surprise, he was packing. You open your mouth and take him in slowly, the tip leaking with precum. Rafe threw his head back at the sensation, eyes rolling as he moaned for you while you took his cock. You start moving your head, slowly at first, but Rafe wasn't taking any of that. He held your head in place, moving his hips, and you let out a muffled cry as he fucked your mouth.
"Ooh, shit," he cussed, biting his lip. You look up at him, and his facial expressions were fucking amazing. How he'd roll his eyes and let himself immerse in the pleasure. You let your eyes close, savoring the moment before he leaves you again. Or so you thought, honestly. Your tongue swirled on his tip, making sure to lick his slit, and let your hands cover for the unoccupied parts your mouth couldn't reach. Not without a little help. His hips buck against your lips, and he lets out a loud moan, loving the warmth and wetness of your mouth. He pulls your hair again, sheathing himself deep in your throat, and your hands held tight on his built thighs. "I missed fucking your mouth," Rafe murmurs, controlling the pace. You look up at him again, and he moves your head to the side, bulging his cock out on your cheek, and no lie, the sight beneath him was the greatest treasure he had found.
"Fuck! You're gonna make me cum in that fucking mouth," Rafe muttered, and one of your hands went up and fondled his balls, and Rafe could've just melted right there. "You're such a naughty little fucking slut for Daddy, aren't you?" Rafe growled, his cock twitching and aching for release. You hum in response, and Rafe picks up the pace of his hips, fucking your mouth rough as you feel him fill your throat again and again. "Fuck, let me cum inside that fucking mouth of yours, babygirl." Rafe licked his lips, moaning turning slowly to whines and whimpers. You hollowed your cheeks, and Rafe lets out a loud cry, unable to contain himself. He pushes his cock all the way in, and you felt yourself gag as he came in your throat, immediately giving you a taste of him.
You shut your eyes, trying not to literally throw up, tears stinging your eyes and you tap on Rafe's thigh, and he pulls out after releasing a load in your throat. You wiped the saliva that dripped from your mouth, and grin at him. "Don't smile at me like I'm not done with you, little slut," Rafe says, lowering himself to your level and grabbing your neck, but no pressure involved. He kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue as you returned the kiss. Rafe breaks the kiss briefly, sitting down on the couch, and kicking off his pants and underwear as you sat on his lap, kissing him again, a hand making its way to his cheek, then to the back of his head, tugging and pulling on it. You pulled away, and pulled his hair back, exposing his adam's apple, and your lips making its way to the exposed flesh. "Gonna mark me, babygirl?" Rafe asked, and you just nod, licking and sucking on the spot under his ear.
"Daddy's all yours,"
You bit down on the spot, and Rafe smacks your exposed ass. "That's my girl," he mutters. You let go of his hair, and you tug at the sweater. "Take them off, Daddy," you cooed, hands slipping past his sweater and roaming his body. "Of course, babygirl," Rafe says before he takes off his sweater. As soon as the clothing was off, you rid yourself off the nightgown, and his hands were all on you, too. Rafe leans in and kisses your neck, and you grind yourself against his still hard cock. "Mmm, need your cock, Daddy," you whispered. Rafe just hums at you, one of his hands guiding his cock to your entrance. "Beg," He said, kissing up to your jawline. "Please, Daddy," you whined.
"Please, Rafe,"
And honestly, he was far too horny to correct you, thrusting in you with one swift movement, and you moaned, holding his shoulders. Rafe leans back, feeling lightheaded from the feeling of you. "Fuck, you're so— F/N, shit!" Rafe shut his eyes, moaning at how tight you are. You slowly rock your hips, and Rafe holds your hips and moving you to the pace of his liking.
Well, no surprise, he liked it fast and rough.
Pummeling his cock deep in you as you moaned. No words needed to he said. Your nails left red crescents, too immersed in bliss. "Please, fuck me harder, Daddy," you plea, legs wrapped around his waist, and Rafe wastes no time, laying you on your back and he starts taking you right there. "You missed me, babygirl?" Rafe asked, thrusting hard in you, and you mewled, unable to form a coherent sentence at how fucking good you felt. How good Rafe made you feel. One of his hands grabbed your jaw quite harshly.
"I said, did you miss me?"
You clench against him, and nod. "Yes, Daddy, I missed you," you say inbetween moans and gasps for breath. You'd fed his monstrous ego (and cock) once again. He holds your shoulders, and starts ramming his cock in you rough and hard. You screamed for him, toes curling at the feeling of his cock. You begged him more, and he complied. Your hand cups his cheek and you pull him closer to whisper words he secretly wanted you to say.
"Hurt me,"
Of course, Rafe would never hurt you. You had your safeword and color, and you trust him. Rafe chuckles, and he slaps you. "Is this what you want, whore?" Rafe asked, pummeling in you as he slaps you again. You yelped. "Yes, Daddy!" you moaned out. "You love it when Daddy hurts you?" "Yes!" Slap! "You're such a fucking whore, F/N," "More!" Slap! Your body ached for him, but you loved it. Rafe rubs your hot cheek, and you rake your nails on his shoulders, your orgasm slowly coming. "I'm gonna cum!" you screamed out, legs trying to push him closer and deeper to you. "Yeah? Babygirl's going to cum?" Rafe growled, pounding you mercilessly, making sure to hit your right spots and give it to you right.
"Yes!! Fuck!" you wailed, face contorting in pleasure as your orgasm coming in fast and intense. With a few more thrusts from Rafe, you cum on his cock, gushing and screaming as you dug your nails on his shoulders at the sensation. It felt so intense, and Rafe moaned with you, his thrusts getting erratic. Too immersed in each other, you cup his cheek, and he rests his forehead on yours.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Eyes not leaving each other, you watch Rafe eitb intent, his moans turning to whines as he spilled his cum inside you, accompanying him with moans as his cock twitched. He lets out a loud whine, and you close the gap between the two of you, crashing your lips on his. He kisses you, cupping your cheek, and rubbing it with his thumb. He pulls away briefly, gasping for air at the intense orgasm, slipping out of you before he collapses ontop of you. Not that you minded.
You were the one who spoke first this time, breaking the silence. "Why'd you leave, Rafe?" you asked, tracing his back muscles. "I was scared," Rafe says, looking up at you. "I slowly realized how vulnerable I was with you," he says, and your heart sinks at the stray tears that came from his eyes. "I-I thought you'd betray me, turn your back on me," he says. "I never stopped loving you, F/N. Creepy as it sounds, I watched over you. Seeing if you'd make it to work safe, get back home safe," he says. You held his hand, and he kisses it.
"We'll fix this, Rafe. I love you,"
"I know,"
Rafe grins at you and your other hand wipe the tears away. And the both of you laugh at how cliche and how hopelessly in love you both were with each other. Soon, your body started to ache at his weight (and size. hehe.)
"Another round?"
"Definitely."
End~
I hope you all liked i uh was binge watching prison break while trying to finish all uncharted in one sitting  i'm in love with rafe and tough characters who have a soft spot for their significant other *cries* and as you can see i was carried away with this
Stay inside, stay safe from Corona!
Love,
Kanra
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alwaysmychoices · 4 years ago
Note
This is the embarrassingly long rant on my favourite passages attached with a few questions.
A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey 
Unspoken
Tonight, under the soft moonlight glow, Ethan didn’t look like the confident doctor she’d met in Edenbrook. Concern etched itself into his handsome features, and a lingering air of defeat and disappointment followed him like a cruel haunting.
For me, this passage is a trigger. Ethan definitely cares for Charlie and he would bulldoze the town looking for her when she’s drunk and alone in a bar. But he would refuse to act on his feelings when she’s sober. But the realisation that Raf or Bryce might think differently strikes him and sets into motion a series of incidents that culminate in the chapter "Blind Date". How strategic was Naveen's plan to bring up Bryce?
Goodbye
This was the last time he would have Charlotte Greene in his bed. He wouldn’t wake up again to her wild, blonde curls in his face...
...
“Stay the night,” he whispered. He couldn’t let her go now…
I love him.
The realization hit Charlie with enough force to knock her down. And then the tears came, and the desperation was complete.
Charlie Greene loved Ethan Ramsey, and she had already lost him.
...
She wouldn’t… he tried to calm himself as he moved back to the bedroom. She must have gotten dressed and gotten coffee or something. Surely, she would be back. She wouldn’t have gone without a goodbye, and this couldn’t end with a midnight dash out of his apartment. It was too meaningful. It deserved a proper send-off, a proper discussion.
But Ethan didn’t have to look for an answer for long.
...
He never left Charlie because she left him first.
To be very honest, this chapter did things to me that I was not prepared for. I had to take a break before I came back, reread it and wondered if I could accept it. It hurt me, it reminded me of incidents that I didn’t even know I still carried in my heart. The fact that Charlie, and not Ethan left first, jolted me into the realisation that unlike PB’s conclusion, you just don’t go back to being an attending and an intern after that. But now I believe, that was necessary. They had to grow as people. How difficult was the decision to make her leave on your part (especially when the canon provided an easier alternative)?
With and Without
Blind Date
Once his eyes landed on her, he couldn’t tear them away. He’d seen Charlie at varying states, some more vulnerable or confident than others. He knew her worst and best. She was never more beautiful than she was peacefully asleep on his bed, but surely, this came close.
But she wasn’t made up for him.
Could I assume that this chapter is the fulcrum on which the series rests? I think it is the culmination of the reactions elicited for the first time in Ethan in “Unspoken”.  Further, the story could have gone very differently at two points- firstly, when Ethan decided to join Baz and secondly, when Charlie decided to leave her date to take care of Ethan. Their choices, especially Charlie’s in the end, established that they were too far gone to return at this point.
Ethan shook his head, “She doesn’t want to be around me. I hurt her. I meant to hurt her. I want her to find better than me.” His voice wavered, thick with emotion.
“She misses you, too,” Charlie professed breathlessly, suddenly aware of every missing piece she’d been looking for with David.
She missed Ethan. She’d missed Ethan from the moment she lost him in the spring.
I cannot even begin to explain how beautifully sad this was!
Hangover Cure
Charlie was lounging comfortably on the couch, Jenner draped across her lap as she scrolled through menus on her smartphone. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a haphazard bun in stark contrast to the sleek, sophisticated dress that hugged her frame. Ethan realized, with a deep sigh of relief, that he was the one who got to see her like this, not the one who had touched her knee at the bar last night.
...
They neared the end of the season when Charlie’s eyes grew heavy, and Ethan watched her squirm out of the corner of his eye as she tried to stay awake. When Jenner joined them on the couch and cuddled into Charlie, any hope of evading a nap was lost.
I love domestic scenes of Ethan and MC. But what you did here is exceptional. I think you have turned Ethan’s apartment into this sanctuary, where they can be everything they want to. Primal, elemental, unbridled and honest.
“You’ve been wearing that dress since 8 pm last night. You deserve a change of clothes, Charlie,” Ethan was as he sat on the edge of the couch, massaging his temple as if giving little thought to the act.
...
Maybe that’s what made the gesture so startling.
...
It was ridiculous that she was so moved. She’d left David in the cold last night just to make sure Ethan was alright, and after dragging him home, she’d stayed with him as he stumbled and vomited. She’d waited all night, in fact. In contrast, he offered her a pair of sweatpants.
But there was a sense of familiarity and intimacy that she hadn’t expected.
She’d only worn his clothes after having sex with him. Now, she got to wear them just because he was worried about her comfort.  
I know you ease into angst right after that. That isn't fluff in its conventional sense. And you maintain that you generally don't write fluff. But those lines just warmed my heart in ways I cannot explain. How do you do this?
“I’m sorry you had to leave your date to take care of me,” Ethan may have hated that she was having a good time with someone else, but he did regret ruining it. He didn’t dare tell her why he’d been so reckless at the pub, but deep down, he suspected that she knew that it was his jealousy.
...
“I didn’t have to,” Charlie chuckled softly, much to Ethan’s surprise...
...
“I went because…” Charlie stopped herself before she could say something regrettable. He noted the abrupt stop and waited with bated breath before she explained, “I came to get you because I care about you, and I was worried. I wasn’t running from a bad date or forced to see you. I decided to go.”
I know from experience it’s the absolute opposite of easy to be in a relationship without label. This scene is them treading that path, without even knowing that they are already doing it. “They didn’t need to explain what they were doing or why they were there. They just let it happen.”
After Hours
I (literally) love every sentence in this chapter.
There was a profound, blissful moment of clarity where Charlie suddenly understood that this had been inevitable. This kiss – as surprising as it felt – had been coming on from the moment she picked him over David. It had been written in stone the second she made the decision to stay with him, and their bumbling attempts at friendship had been merely a stepping stone.
One more reason I felt “Blind Date” is the fulcrum of this entire series. I would love to know if you think differently. Do you think David had any remote chance for even a couple of dates?
“The ethical and professional dilemmas are not lost on me, but I want you more than I want to be right. We can’t be open about it with the people around us, but I want a relationship with you, Charlie.”
Finally we have the manifestation of the growth that has been taking place. A few months ago, he would have been apologetic, if not already buying his ticket to a different continent. It has been difficult, it has been messy, and yet he is finally there, which is what matters. 
His thumbprints marked her body and mind, and his constant presence in her mind morphed him into a fantastical beast – elusive and distant. She manipulated the image in her mind, painting him as a hero and a villain, but just before she could be convinced of either, the mirage slipped away to her barebone memories of tender smiles as he pulled her close and apologetic eyes as he distanced himself.
This was “chef’s kiss”. It was like something out of an Anna Karenina or a Wuthering Heights. Would love to hear your thoughts on this passage. 
Further, the scenes in the hospital, where Charlie constantly avoided Ethan, unfold before me as unending passages and hallways, almost like the long takes in some of my favourite movies. It added to the indecision in Charlie’s mind and the endless interlude in Ethan’s.
Ethan stood in a state of shock, all of the hopeful warmth replaced with the bone-chilling absence of it. He failed to comprehend the devastation he felt, running just as she did back into his head.
I knew it wasn’t the end. And I also knew it shattered my heart into a million pieces, just as when Charlie has left in “Goodbye”. However,  completely understand Charlie’s fears and vacillation.
Crying in the Rain
Loving Ethan was inescapable.
She’d fallen in love with him a million little times over hundreds of days, and despite her best attempts, she was always just a little more in love with him. He was an unreal figure in her world, so shrouded in her own folklore of him that every peak of him being a real, vulnerable human being only endeared him more to her.
...
The starry-eyed, ambitious student reading his textbooks couldn’t have imagined that, with every small choice she made in his favor, she would tie herself irrevocably to her hero.
This is so beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. It has the tone of an old world romance where the knight must inevitably have his heart broken by that ideal woman. Here we have a reversal in the trope.
“You are a risk. I’m terrified of getting hurt. When we ended last time, I was devastated. I cried for days and spent weeks trying to feel okay again, and that was after just one weekend,” Charlie’s words tumbled out of her mouth, rushed and eager. She felt like she needed to tell him everything, like unburdening herself and her insecurities was the only way forward, “I went on a date with someone and spent the rest of my night taking care of you just because I would rather be with a sick, drunk you than anyone else. I keep telling myself to stay away from you, but I always end up at your front door.”
...
“When I actually almost lost you, I was so devastated that I wasn’t afraid anymore,” Charlie confessed, “I understand if you changed your mind,” she added with a crack in her voice because, really, she didn’t understand.
I don’t think I have to even explain the inclusion of this in my list of favourite passages. As this scene unfolded, I was tense, euphoric, I was Ethan and Charlie at the same time. 
I really appreciate this chapter and the one before for how you have held your readers’ attention throughout. I gobbled them up first and then came back to savour them. And yet, never for once did I find them dreary.  I think these were your best in this series.
And I have one last question. Who do you relate with the most (Charlie or Ethan) when you speak of their fears and dilemmas? I mean, is it even possible to choose one?
No, no, no – it is absolutely not embarrassing. If anything, my excitement for getting this was embarrassing.
I’m going to be honest. You actually picked up narrative elements I hadn’t really paid attention to in the aggregate, so I had to think about them and really appreciate the work as a whole (which I rarely do when I’m writing chapter by chapter). I ended up rereading some chapters to refamiliarize myself and put myself back in that headspace, and that was super fun.
So, for your first question about “Unspoken,” Naveen certainly didn’t anticipate inadvertently starting an on-and-off again love affair, but he absolutely intended to rile Ethan up. Naveen is very observant, so when Ethan and Charlie were secretly treating him, he noticed a lot about the pair. In my mind, he was the first to think they were compatible and the first to realize their relationship had the potential to be meaningful and long-lasting.
When I wrote A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey, I did not plan on writing With and Without. Towards the end, I had ideas, but the storyline was so jumbled that I wasn’t sure if I would take on such a long, ambitious project. Instead, I thought I would publish those individual ideas as their own work that formed a semi-series. So, while Ethan’s jealousy triggered his behavior in WaW, it wasn’t necessarily my intention.
However, Ethan realizing that Charlie had other romantic options sparked their relationship because Ethan suddenly realized that this thing he had with Charlie wasn’t safe. Up until that time, their relationship had limits almost entirely set by him, and it was well in his comfort zone. There were blips like Miami, but overall, Ethan controlled that part of him that wanted more of Charlie.
But really, their relationship didn’t make sense. They were too comfortable, too familiar, and frankly too connected for mere coworkers. They spent a lot of time behaving like they had a romantic relationship only to snap out of it and remember they were “platonic.” Unconsciously, they were committed to each other, and there was comfort in mutual pining. So, when Ethan realized that Charlie wasn’t on the same page as him and could replace their relationship with a real romantic partnership, things changed. The illusion that Charlie would remain stagnant with him shattered.
First, he had to acknowledge that he hated learning that Charlie had other suitors, and if he did that, he had to acknowledge that he hated them because he wanted to be them. That breaking of barriers allowed them to investigate their relationship and act on repressed feelings, which they’re still doing 24 chapters later.
 Now, for the ending of A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey, I never really considered any other ending for several reasons. Firstly, I knew that the relationship had to end because, while Ethan had grown, he hadn’t grown to a point where he could accept a relationship with Charlie and work at Edenbrook. If Naveen hadn’t survived, I think they could have made it work. Ethan wouldn’t have gone back to work as quickly, and they would have had more time to figure out where they stood. But Ethan would have always gone back to work, and there would always be a strain because of that. At the end of A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey, Charlie was not enough to stop him, and she knew that.
That brings me to my second reason which is that I just didn’t think they could have a casual ending. Don’t get me wrong, I love the angst of Book 1’s ending, but in canon, they had one night together knowing they had a time limit. It was a very different situation. In A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey, they were at the start of a relationship without an expiration date. They were romantic and hopeful, and then it was ripped away. And notably, it was ripped away by Ethan. Charlie couldn’t just blame fate because she watched Ethan make that decision.
Both characters were in pain, but they experienced it very differently. Ethan made the choice, and though he expressed self-hatred, he didn’t really consider staying. For him, their last night is bittersweet but necessary, and he asked Charlie to stay the night so that he could get closure and mark the significance of their relationship. But Charlie didn’t make this decision. She wanted to stay together. Exchanging awkward, sad goodbyes in the morning would have been extremely painful. They couldn’t both get what they wanted or needed from their breakup, and Charlie got to pick because she acted first. This was vaguely hinted to earlier in the series when Ethan promised her that he wouldn’t leave.
Ultimately, I think it’s the lack of closure that prompted the follow-up series. If they had mutually agreed to end things, Charlie wouldn’t have gone to him on the night of “Just Tonight.” There’s also a lot of unresolved pain and distrust because of that night, which Charlie and Ethan haven’t touched yet. Now that we know that Ethan’s mom left him at a very young age, there’s a new dynamic to Charlie leaving that I didn’t even consider at the time but hope to bring up later.
 100%, without “Blind Date,” the rest of the series could not have happened. Now that I’m writing it out, I see that Ethan only knows how to act when what he wants is threatened. “Drinking Games” established that Charlie and Ethan couldn’t go back to the relationship they had Pre-A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey. It only took one night as friends to put them back in danger. When Ethan decided to push Charlie away in “Midnight Call,” they had to live without each other again (which they both hated). Charlie doesn’t have Ethan’s skill for wallowing in longing and disappointment, so she had to do something.
David certainly had the potential for a handful dates – maybe more if she was determined enough. But no, he would never be comparable to Ethan. If Ethan ever found out, he would have been just as hurt as in “Blind Date,” but it still would have taken another catalyst to actually push him to Charlie. Truthfully, I think it would have happened. I think Charlie and Ethan were constantly escalating their behavior, and at some point, they would reach a point where they had to try again or had to sever ties.
Coming into this, I knew that there was a problem with the pattern of Charlie always trying for him and Ethan not being in a place where he could try, too. That wasn’t sustainable, and if they started another relationship in that state, an epic meltdown would follow. Ethan had to reach a point where he was capable of taking the risk, and a lot of that growth happened in “Blind Date” and “Hangover Cure.”
 I’m really happy you noticed that they’re so free and happy in Ethan’s apartment. Especially in the next few chapters, that will be even more prominent. Domestic/borderline fluff (because, if I try fluff, it just gets sad in the next paragraph) is so much fun to write, and I’m excited to touch on that more.
 Also, yes, I don’t even think I know how to explain Ethan and Charlie’s relationship. At that point, they were in a very messy, complicated and unlabeled relationship. Early on, Charlie’s friends warned her against pursuing Ethan again, and I would do the exact same thing. But there was no way Ethan or Charlie would ever stay away from each other permanently.
 For your last question, I relate to both, but if it had to be one, I would relate most to Charlie. She leans much more into the anxiety and complexities of her problems, which I do as well. She feels them very intensely whereas, to some extent, Ethan’s monologues are a bit more removed. Even when he’s making devastating decisions, he separates his duty from his emotions, and he decides which of the two to act on. He also has a penchant for blaming himself, which is something I’m trying to stop doing. Like Ethan, I have a tendency to remove myself from situations when I feel I’m going to make a mistake or am afraid of intimacy/rejection/etc. But most notably, they both keep those fears and dilemmas inside (I’m very guilty of doing that), and that’s what they have to change. When I’m writing Charlie, I like to use stream of consciousness and tap into anxiety. I pay much more attention to the physical/emotional reactions of a thought or action, but for Ethan, it’s more thoughtful and retrospective. Charlie’s reactions are the ones I have in the moment, but Ethan is who I am when I am mulling over something later or have to compartmentalize and function in a painful moment.  
 I love all the passages you picked out! I actually ended up putting one of them on my whiteboard above my desk because I remembered how much I liked it. A few times, I read them and genuinely thought, “I wrote that???” I’m sorry that this response is so long, but once I started, I couldn’t stop myself. I actually had a lot of fun doing this, and I think stopping to appreciate the work in its entirety helps me plan for its future. If you have any other questions or anything, feel free to reach out again!
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carrotcouple · 5 years ago
Text
And I Could Come Home To You (AO3)
Everything about this screams:
Dangerous and stupid.
But that’s what they were.
For @rest-in-bees
——o——
The first time Dazai kisses him is during some ridiculous truth or dare game. Chuuya doesn’t quite think he will ever forgive Elise chan for that. Dazai smashes their mouths together in an obnoxiously wet and loud kiss. Their teeth clack against each other and above the roaring rush of his blood, he hears Kaji shriek like some kind of ungodly banshee. Dazai pulls away, swiping his tongue over Chuuya’s lips one last time before smirking triumphantly at Chuuya. 
Chuuya stares back blankly, his face devoid of any emotion. If Chuuya has learned anything about Dazai over the past few months that they’ve been partners, it’s that he gains some kind of satisfaction from seeing people’s reactions. Chuuya has been attempting to school his features lately, so despite his his heart almost thundering out of his chest and his extreme desire to strangle Dazai to death with his bare hands, Chuuya stays expressionless. 
“Aw, Chuuya, you’re practically frozen! Was that your first kiss?” Dazai asks cheerfully.
“No,” Chuuya scoffs.
Yes.
Dazai turns back to Elise chan, who had given them that dare and is also hosting the truth or dare game, and she has disgust written all over her face. Dazai’s triumphant grin widens.
And with the chaos that ensues after, Chuuya thanks all the Gods that Elise chan locked Mori in his office.
——o——
The first time they have sex is after the first time Chuuya uses Corruption. They’re both drunk on adrenaline, fear, blood, excitement and power. Chuuya is exhausted, boneless and can barely move. Corruption takes the life out of him like nothing else. 
But he’s alive.
He’s fucking alive.
Dazai let’s go of his wrist, only to grab his collar and pull him into a bruising kiss that tastes of blood. And for all his exhaustion, Chuuya feels that edge that Dazai does and bites down sharply on Dazai’s lip. Iron blooms into their mouths and Dazai straight up moans.
And God, Chuuya can’t get enough of that sound. He wants to hear Dazai screaming his name the way he did when he grabbed Chuuya to stop him, to keep him alive. 
Clearly, Dazai wants the same wants the same, because he picks Chuuya off the ground and stumbles to the car they had stolen. Chuuya falls against the car seats with a thud, nearly smacks his head against the car door, and then Dazai is kissing him again. Hungry, desperate and almost murderous. 
They’ve left behind what was once a building, full of bodies - unidentified and unconfirmed dead. Everything about this screams:
Dangerous and stupid.
But that’s what they were.
Sex is messy, awkward, painful even, but they’re scrambling with blood stained fingers that were meant to kill and not to love and they’re both high from a massacre that didn’t cost their lives.
They’re both so high and so aware that if they fall, they’ll die.
Which makes it better.
Chuuya is alive.
It’s exhilarating.
——o——
The first time Chuuya experiences heartbreak, Dazai is smiling brightly at Odasaku, eyes filled with excitement, intrigue, affection, adoration, devotion. Chuuya has never seen Dazai like that in all the years they’ve been partners. Which is not many years now that he thinks about it.
Dazai with Chuuya is rough and sharp edges, violence dripping from his lips.
Dazai with Odasaku is soft, real, human, alive.
Dazai is in love.
And it’s so stupid and cliched that it’s only now that Chuuya realizes he’s in love.
And Chuuya also learns that heartbreaks don’t just go. They stay, stab you whenever you see that person and choke you whenever you try to breathe.
It’s like he’s using Corruption.
He can’t see, can’t breathe, can’t hear, can’t do what he wants to do. All he feels is rage. Rage and pain that only Dazai’s touch soothes. 
Chuuya hates it.
He hates it so much.
The car that Dazai stupidly gave him the money for on his birthday a year ago explodes and Chuuya watches the flames lick the metal, watches the paint job burn, tastes Dazai on his lips from when Dazai kissed him the night before and said goodbye.
Odasaku is dead.
——o——
Chuuya wakes up at three AM.
There’s someone shuffling under his blankets and all his instincts are telling him to go into fight mode, but he waits and a head of dark hair pokes out from underneath. Brown eyes and disgustingly pearly white teeth.
There’s a lot of things Chuuya could say.
How dare you show your face to me? How dare you crawl into into my bed? What the fuck? I should kill you right now, you bastard! I heard you joined the Armed Detective Agency, you traitor! Is this your death wish? How the fuck did you break in?
But all he says is:
“Dazai, it’s fucking three AM,”
“I know!” Dazai beams.
“I want to sleep,” Chuuya says irritably.
“More importantly, aren’t you forgetting something, shortie?” Dazai asks. Chuuya is too tired to get angry, so he quickly wracks his brain for whatever he could have forgotten.
“Oh. It’s been four years. Sucks to see you’re still alive. Now let me slee-” Chuuya grumbles, about to turn on his side.
“Welcome home kiss!” Dazai says.
“You can kiss my ass,” Chuuya mutters.
“Is that an invitation?”
“Dazai, I swear to God, if you don’t let me sleep, I will tie you to the door,” Chuuya says.
“Kinky~” Dazai sings, but settles down, arms wrapping around Chuuya and lips tickling his nape. 
“Hm…” Chuuya manages to mumble out before his eyes drift closed. He’s so warm and comfortable. It feels like he’s whole again.
“I’m home,” Dazai whispers long after Chuuya falls asleep.
——o——
The first time Chuuya thinks he knows what happiness tastes like, he’s trying to pull Dazai out of a fishing net for the sixth time that week. The Detective Agency now directs all calls of Dazai causing havoc at Chuuya and Chuuya regrets the day he gave Atsushi his number. Dazai insists he’s not trying to kill himself, he’s just enjoying the river. And given that Chuuya has only had to pick him up from the river for the past few months, he’s tempted to believe it. Heavens knows what he did in his past life to have to put up with this waste of brain cells for the past ten years now.
Their relationship is like a roller coaster of ups and downs and spirals. Sometimes scary, sometimes heart stopping, sometimes painful, sometimes thrilling and never, ever peaceful boring.
Not with Dazai. 
Chuuya manages to untangle Dazai and Dazai falls into his arms like some kind of dying, floppy fish. 
“Dazai, what the fuck,” Chuuya says.
“It’s Chuuya~” Dazai says, with such pure bliss in his voice, Chuuya’s heart seizes up. 
“You need to change,” Chuuya tries to set Dazai upright.
“I want to kiss you,” Dazai looks up at Chuuya, head still resting against Chuuya’s chest. 
“When you’ve taken a bath,” Chuuya wrinkles his nose.
“I want to kiss you now,” Dazai says and Chuuya is about to protest when Dazai continues. “I want to kiss you now, I want to kiss you when we get home, I want to kiss you before we go to sleep, I want to kiss you tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, and for the months that follow, and the years. Forever. I really want to kiss you, Chuuya. So even if I haven’t taken a bath yet, let me kiss you now.”
Chuuya is breathless.
There is no kind of facial expression training he can implement in this situation and Dazai grins.
“God dammit, you’re ridiculous,” Chuuya says, but he fists hands into Dazai’s hair, pulls him up and kisses him.
It tastes weird.
It tastes like Dazai.
It tastes like them.
——o——
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johobi · 6 years ago
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WYLEI 11 - submission
The following was a submission (rather than a series of asks) discussing the latest chapter, sent in by one of my lovely regulars, lie anon. As it’s quite long I’ll place it under a read more; if it doesn’t display, I’m really sorry!
Wow, Jo. There’s so much I want to say to you. First of all, thank you so much for writing WYLEI. It was 18K of goodness; a ride so wild that I don’t wanna ever come down. This chapter is filled with pain, misery, heartbreak, relief, love and lust - a diabolical cocktail (hehe) that you feed to us and we partake so gleefully. The wait for this chapter is so worth it, and thank you so much for working so hard on it. You’re such a gem! I’m sending you a submission so I don’t clog your inbox ><“ I’m sorry I’ve so much thoughts I want to share ><”
You’re so welcome!! I’m serious! You’ve been so patient and encouraging the whole way. And don’t ever apologise for ‘clogging’ my inbox, I’m always so happy to hear from you :)
I want to gush about many parts of the chapter, namely the smut and heartbreak and confession. Wait, that’s the whole story wtf gdi lie anon is whipped as fuck!!! Ok I’m gonna talk about the sad parts first. Good lord Y/N had to force herself to look away from Kook because those eyes are a mirage now, and it will transport her to places of pain and misery that she shouldn’t find, that doesn’t belong in the first place ugh can you hear the sound of my heart breaking into a million pieces… The promise of happier and blissful days ahead are now shattered by Kook’s deadly secret :( it fucking stinks because I was rooting for Kook and Y/N right from the start. “Like an inmate fleeing from some plush penitentiary of pain” what the fuck. Y/N doesn’t deserve this bullshit. All she did was love Kook and he broke her. Fuck JK, really. I’m so mad at him right now. He better have a fucking good explanation for what’s going down as The Biggest Fuckup in The History of Mankind, istg. Or I’ll personally strangle this stupid boy with my bare hands ugh ajksfhjsl fuck!!!
fhfhfh yes, looking into the eyes of someone you thought you knew (and loved) after such a horrific revelation must be so difficult. Like, that person kissed and said sweet nothings to you behind a mask of some sort, so it must feel like looking into a stranger’s face afterwards. That’s definitely how Y/N was feeling. dfjkdjkj he really better have the most redeemable of reasons for lying to her. Will you guys think it’s good enough tho?!
I was expecting him to run after Y/N, because that just felt so much like what he’d do but he didn’t. Was it because his fiancee was there? Y/N couldn’t bring herself to hate the woman ugh my child is so pure and I’m hurting all over again :( “I’m not going to chase you” and “I won’t give up” um, what in the fresh hell, really. Why is he so lax in his pursuit now? :(
He said he wouldn’t chase her just so that she wouldn’t trip and fall to her death down the stairs (so he does at least possess some humanity lmao). And he must have said that he wouldn’t give up, because, well… he turned up at her apartment later. And rang her in between. As I try not to offer too many insights into their minds, I will say it from a place of speculation: perhaps he understood that she needed to get away from him at that moment. She absolutely wouldn’t stop running. So he resorted to calling her, and then turning up at her apartment. I don’t think he wanted to run her into the ground (she was very clearly exhausted).
And Jo, the way you documented Y/N’s journey from the eighteenth floor to the ground floor was so intricate! Her thought processes, her inner monologue, her sense of self-worth diminishing… it really did a number to me because I actually felt pain as I read it. It feels as though Y/N’s blaming herself for this treachery, you know? :( that she felt she had bursted someone’s bubble when JK was the one who ruined everything with his own hands :( god, I’m in so much awe of what you can do with mere words. I’m unbelievably in love with the way you write. And the last sentence? A fucking cliffhanger. A fucking heartbreak to come once more. Why don’t you take my heart and run it over with a bulldozer since it’s broken already lmao.
;;;;;; i’m so glad you liked that!!!! I wanted it to be intense and breathless. Constantly repeating how tired/how much it burned to run, to emphasise it in your own mind. ‘Til you start feeling it yourself!! 
Yeah, Y/N has a tendency to blame herself for everything. She thinks she can’t keep Jungkook interested, must have only been an escape from his life on the upper crust, etc… he was helping to build up her confidence, but then he tore it all down again. I feel like she should take a leaf from actual BTS’ book and Love Herself first. :( People often can’t do what’s best for them, though, for various reasons.
Next, the confession. God, I loved it with every fibre of my ridiculous being. The rawness of it all. How it came gushing through her lips and to be met with equal fervour by Tae. The exchange was mesmerising - timid and shy yet bold and dauntless altogether. I appreciate the fact that Tae had to take some time to digest the information and that he responded in the way that he did. It did felt right, after all that shit he put Y/N through the years.
I got SO into writing that scene. I wanted it paced and worded perfectly, because that was the ‘big’ moment. The fic had been building up to it for 10 chapters. From all the feedback I’ve received, I feel like I was able to do it the justice it deserved, and I couldn’t be happier about it. ;;;; thank you so much. The tumult of emotion you mention is precisely how I wanted it to play out. It took some bold leaps into the unknown and neither know what’s on the other side, but they did it anyway.
The part where Tae found her in the old haunt was so heartwarming. The piggyback ride, that little trip down memory lane… it felt nice knowing that some things just don’t change with time. Tae’s conviction in getting even for Y/N’s sake had me melting into a puddle of goo and feels. He’s so protective over her ahhh omg where can I find me someone like WYLEI’s Tae!!!
THIS IS MY FAV BIT!!!! I imagined this from day one. T__T And it was so nice to put it down into words, finally. AND YASS PROTECTIVE TAE!! I’ll be honest I’m not one for hot-headed males IRL but in the realm of fic (and as long as they’re not psychotic), I enjoy a guy with a vengeful spirit. And you mention exactly why. The protectiveness. T___T ahhajwkh. 
Tae’s initial reluctance in not wanting to fuck Y/N in this state really had my heart soft and in a pulpy mess. He knew it wasn’t right because this one fuck might make things messy again. He didn’t want to fuck things up any further with Y/N because he loves her too much to put her through another shit show. It’s a small part nonetheless, but showed how much Tae loved Y/N even though it means going against her wishes at that point in time.
Yes!!!! That was hugely important to include!!! I feel, without it, I’d be getting far different responses to this scene. It was essential to demonstrate that Tae had learnt his lesson and really valued their friendship above all. That he doesn’t just think of her as a woman in an attractive body. 
I feel like this chapter mirrors chapter 9, for some reason? Perhaps it had to do with the culmination of buried feelings and emotions, primarily desire and longing. Passion that laid dormant and stifled for fear of ruining the present equilibrium, are now brought to life with a confession. That, I find, makes the scenes all the more emotionally charged and engaging. And all the smut with Tae… NOW TAKE OFF YOUR FUCKING PANTIES EVERYONE, IT’S TIME TO SCREAM!!!
You’re 100% right. The latter half, at least, is very much like 9. Y/N feeling desolate on the heels of the other guy, the lead-up banter, the actual act; it’s all very intimate; revolves around her and the respective guy in each chapter. And with a cliffhanger suggesting that you can’t just disappear into the arms of another and not pay the price.
“I want you to watch me undress.” > WHAT. THE. FUCK. Y/N is the epitome of Big Dick Energy, y’all!!! Fucking hell. The way she commanded Tae to watch her… WOW. I’m blown away with that power. That seductress side of her from before came out to play and I was unbelievably thrilled!!!
Hahaha, I guess, because I was writing her, I felt like her usual feistiness wasn’t behind that line. She was desperate to see some form of evidence that she was still desirable as a human being, so she put on a facade that normally comes very naturally to her. In this case it was pretty forced, and Tae saw through it quite quickly. Thank God, because I felt so awkward writing that bit. It really didn’t feel right to me.
“Fuck, all the times I’ve imagined you like this” > um, hello??? This is so fucking hot I’m sweating my fat ass off!!! Like Tae fina-fucking-lly gets to bone the living daylights out of Y/N and I can literally hear the utter desperation, the excitement, want and need in his deep, baritone voice as he says that? I’m not ok what the fuck is going on???
LOL you crack me up aklwjdawklj!! YES I had to cram in all his tasty one-liners about how much he’s thought about fucking her and in a myriad of ways bc gdi it’s hot and Tae is one horny man. With absolutely no reserve. IT’S SO HOT *fans self* 
“You have me” > um what the fuck, Jo? I legit died at this line??? I can only imagine the assertion and conviction in Tae’s voice when he said that??? He declared it once more to Y/N and I couldn’t breathe because /f e e l s/. Error 404: lieanon.exe not found (was dead in a ditch and now sending this from afterlife p.s. hell isn’t half as hot as the smut you write huehuehue).
aaaND THIS IS MY FAV OF HIS LINES DURING THE SEX STUFF!!! It’s just, like, it must be utter relief and happiness and desire flooding her hearing him say that. It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear from him. Instant crEAM. 
“Heaven was his practised teeth and tongue, pinching and suckling your collarbones to an inhuman shade. Like an overzealous pet he branded you with feral desire, mounting marks into stretches of unclaimed skin. ” > I got too much of a fucking kick while reading this because hickeys are fucking sexy and territorial so Y/N, WEAR THEM LIKE BADGES OF HONOUR. Ok seriously though where can I sign up for WYLEI’s Tae?!?!?!
ABSOLUTELY. HICKEYS FOR LIFE. I wanted to show how contrasting Jungkook and Tae’s approaches are in the bedroom, and Tae is far more aggressive (due to his confidence and experience). Plus he just freakin’ loves hickeys I guess. And as Y/N said, he’s aware ‘people’ will see them (Tae fights dirty lmao).
And that part when Tae fucked Y/N from the back AND pulling her while doing so? Mother of god that was SO. FUCKING. HOT. The mental imagery will never be lost on me, and it’s seared to the back of mind waiting to be revisited during /desperate/ times ahahaha FUCK. The tension and passion in that scene was palpable, and that taunting was sure as heck the cherry on top. Tae fucked Y/N through her squirting lmao let’s all hover over our damned bucket respectively because our panties are probably beyond soaked from that part istg my loins hurt and I need an ice pack gOD DAMMIT JO.
LMADOWNb i’m literally grinning from ear to ear reading this you are a tREASURE of the highest value. I’m glad you enjoyed that ;)))) my guidelines for going into this sex scene was: 1) it has to be passionate, 2) it has to be rough, 3) they both have to come quick the first time bc when you’re just THAT wound up about someone it’s hard to last long when you’re so impassioned and greedy. Plus I find something really hot about a fast ejaculation LMAO *sweats*. 
But you know what I find is the fucking sexiest part in the whole chapter? When Tae took Y/N’s hand and sucked her fucking fingers clean of her own juices wHAT THE FLYING FUCK JO WHAT THE ACTUAL /F U C K/ DID HE FUCKING LOOKED HER IN THE EYES AS HE DID SO?!?!?! I’M ASKING FOR A FRIEND ASHDFJKL I WILL NEVER BE OVER THIS PART.
you liked that the most!!!? Glad I included that then, that was just a spur of the moment thing I included while expanding the smut. He was v e r y hungry for her. ;)
AHHH I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS CHAPTER THE PAIN THE RAWNESS THE SMUT ASDAFFDSGL *incoherent yelling* uhm except i felt a little uncomfortable with the use of “oppa” it’s an overused trope “noona” is all good though i’m sorry please don’t hate me i love you :(
I had a couple of people ask about the oppa thing and honestly I had no idea that it had been sullied so much by kboos. After getting some feedback, including yours, I decided to change it to a much clearer ‘daddy’, after some thought on the matter. It’s probably the case that Koreans wouldn’t think to use their titles in such a way (correct me, anyone, if I’m wrong), as I was applying it with the vibe of ‘daddy’, and it’s probably not correct. So, just to be safe, I changed it. BTW I LOVE OVERUSED TROPES LIE ANON THIS WHOLE FIC IS BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS THE QUEEN OF TROPES!! NO-ONE CAN STOP MY TROPE-LOVIN’ ASS!!! Can I interest you in some enemies to lovers eventually…?! (the king of tropes)
……so yes, *deep breaths* I think I’m done screeching about chapter 11 and now it’s time to revisit everything once again. Or maybe 9034857494 more times. I’m positive I’ll find something new to scream about ahahaha yikes I’m really whipped lmao. I’m so invested in your fic that I’m actually terrified of the day when it comes to an eventual end sigh pie :( you write so very well, m’dear. WYLEI has made me cry, made me smile and made me high. You’re a talented storyteller, bubz, and I can’t convey enough gratitude to you for bringing us this amazing fic, Jo. I love you so very much!!! You’ve done extremely well, truly and definitely. Always delivering the best to us readers. Sending you plenty of love and good vibes always, m’love!!! Thank you once again! (and sorry for this long ass submission i’m the literal worst) xx lie anon ♥️🌻
Lie anon, you’ve written a veritable novel of yourself here to me, and I just want you to know how very, very grateful I am of how much time you spent collecting your thoughts and communicating them to me. I’ve never received such an essay (I mean that in the most affecionate of ways) in my inbox and it was a heartwarming read from start to finish. Thank you so much. And never be afraid to tell me of the things you dislike, as you did with the oppa kink. I’m always open ears. <333333
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kookiekeys · 7 years ago
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(Part II) Another List of 101 Jungkook/Jimin Recommendations
Guess who still doesn’t have a life? I’ve managed to read another 101 stories in the short while it’s been since my first 101 recommendations, so I decided to make a part two!!  Once again, if you notice any errors or have any recommendations, feel free to message me! I’ve tried to include authors’ summaries as they’re posted, and please read the tags on the works accordingly :)
In no particular order:
milk and honey by fatal (cumrich) (Rating: E) jeongguk's got his hands full with his very pregnant, very insatiable husband. not that he minds.
What the Fans Want by Shealezz (Rating: E) Jungkook never imagined he would end up in a fake love with a tease like Park Jimin when all he wanted to do was dance. Unfortunately, this thing called “fanfiction” exists.
Not a Girl by PinkBTS (Rating: M) Jeongguk isn't sure what he did in his previous life to deserve this but he probably screwed up big time...he's kinda grateful though. A story about Santa, assumptions and thick-rimmed glasses.
Lovin' It by AbsoluteHominy (Rating: T) The first thing Jimin noticed was a head of messy black hair that most definitely didn't belong to Taehyung. He was about to apologize when he looked at the boy's face, instantly recognizing those sharp eyes and soft lips. His heart clenched tightly in his chest as he stood face to face with that strange guy from the McDonald's, who was staring back at him with a rather irritated expression.
all that you are by parkbom (Rating: T) park jimin doesn't remember when or where or how, but somewhere along the line he fell in love with jeon jeongguk. which, considering all of the other problems in his life right now, is really the last thing he needs to be reminded of. but running into jeongguk unexpectedly over christmas break means that it's unavoidable.
You made me (so tame me) by thefabulouserenFandoms (Rating: M) Jimin was that one cute college junior in big sweaters and glasses who never really called attention to himself and spent his time studying. However, he had a dark past on his shoulders he rather never go back to, a past that he doesn't realize will always follow him. What he doesn't understand is how he suddenly became the target of the infamous bad boy, college sophomore, Jeon Jungkook who does nothing but continuously harass him after a heated night. And why does he suddenly look so familiar?
use me, abuse me by cocksluts (Rating: E) jeongguk's just glad jimin lives for the pain
Swamp Magic by GinForInk (Rating: E) Two witches lure Jungkook into their cabin in the woods
The Wreath-er Outside Is Frightful byClosingStatement (Rating: T) Jimin’s a cashier that works at a store in the city, Jungkook’s a customer with a penchant for buying too many wreaths, and they’re both people in need of their own little Christmas miracle.
The Room of Unrequited Love by dyegu (Rating: T) When the new Hufflepuff prefect, Park Jimin, takes an undue interest in Slytherin fourth-year Jeon Jungkook, the younger boy starts wondering if any magic can compare to the uncomfortable bubbly feeling in his heart.
Jingle Bells and Ugly Sweaters by jikookie (Rating: E) Prompt: "Jungkook likes his coworker Jimin but doesn't do anything about it, but Jimin comes to the company holiday dressed up as a reindeer with little antlers and a collar with BELLS on it and the bells drive Jungkook nuts.
Home Is Wherever I'm With You by jungkoojk (Rating: M) “I always thought of Korea as home, but now I'm with you, it's like home is right here.”The course of true love never did run smooth, and when Jungkook moves to New York City on the first day of the year and falls hopelessly in love with the boy next door, he finds that phrase to be very much true.
acrobats, artists, and animals by flitter (Rating: M) A lifetime of dedication and borderline madness, and Jimin snags his second consecutive role as principal ballet dancer. He should be thrilled, insanely satisfied. If only. (also: Ballet au with rival dancers Jungkook and Jimin who rise and fall together)
You're Exactly What I Wanted by Rose_gold715 (Rating: T) Jimin moves to the city and struggles to adapt to his new life, and realises that even though he loves him, there's still a lot he doesn't know about Jungkook.
Constraint by Harlot (Rating: E) Jungkook is young and he is more acquainted with confusion and poor-decision-making than he’d like to admit. Despite being only 19 years old, he sometimes argues that he’s been through and seen some shit. He is never sure where he’s going to end up and he’s not entirely sure what kind of future is waiting for him. He is often not sure of a lot but he is certain—absolutely certain—that he’s not gay.
Alternatively, a story in which Jungkook meets Park Jimin and doesn't like him whatsoever. There's just something about him... there's just so much about him. Jungkook really can't stand him. In fact, he can't stand him so much he can't quite seem to get him off of his mind.
i wanna feel you in my bones by Bangtanbananas (Rating: E) Vampire Park Jimin should have known that werewolf pup Jeon Jungkook was going to be a pain in his ass. Literally.
You Broke My Heart (but I broke it myself) by Rose_gold715 (Rating: M) Jimin's fiancé has abandoned him on his wedding day, and Jeon Jungkook, Jimin's first love and worst heartbreak, is back.
Sinful by Ravenlove (Rating: E) Jimin's aunt is accused of being a witch. He'd been told to stay away from the burning, but he'd went anyway out of pure desperation to save his aunt. Now, he was being accused of having relations with the Devil. Now, he was the one who needed saving. A raving lunatic was out for his blood, and those jealous of his beauty condoned it, but most would've spoken up if their own lives wouldn't be forfeit.
Captain Jeon Jungkook was well-known, for his semi-cold nature, and obvious good looks. He was never swayed easily, and everyone knew that, but then a small-silver-haired-minx of a male, had quite literally fallen into his lap...
Starry night by freckledknuckles (Rating: Not Rated) Jungkook might be in love with the boy he's been "hanging out" with.
Going Down by Shealezz (Rating: E) “Um, could you repeat that?” “I-I asked if you were an elevator.” “Sorry, but I’m no—” “Because I would totally go down on you.”
Primal by Rose_gold715 (Rating: E) Jimin goes into heat and Jungkook sees Jimin's unguarded, unrestrained Omega side for the first time. Can You Give Me My Breath Back byDeadpanSnarker (Rating: M) Six months till the tournament that would decide Jungkook's future. Six months where he and his team were in dire need to monopolize the ice-rink that had taken a liking to Uni’s new sweetheart. Where Jimin made a bet with Jungkook, which, if Jungkook lost, he would have to be taught how to ‘truly’ skate. Or as how Jimin had phrased it, ‘By the time I'm done with you, you’ll have fallen in love with figure-skating’. Surely things didn’t work out in Jungkook's favour. In their fickle game, Jungkook is in for sex and Jimin is in for love. By the end of the six months, perhaps he would like figure-skating, but he would have adamantly fallen in love with the figure-skater.
Fate Leads to Love by jikoooktrash (Rating: T) Jungkook was a decently famous youtuber with an impressive 4,123,098 subscribers. He knew what having a fanbase was like, and he knew that shipping was something they enjoyed greatly. What he didn't expect was to be shipped with Jimin, a youtuber he'd never seen before. He also didn't expect to fall in love with him. Leave Your Mark by snarcsics (Rating: E) The first time Jimin meets a gaunt, small beta boy named Jungkook in the examination room of Namjoon’s lab, he can’t seem to take his eyes off him. The second time he sees Jungkook it’s because he refuses to eat without him. The third time they meet, Jungkook is more teeth and claws than Jimin can handle.
a touch of sin by pettey (Rating: E) After his transfer to a quiet seaside town, Jeongguk was prepared to face a year of uneventful CID work, but found himself dealing with a series of strange murders instead.
I Only Wanna Give You Love by mnsg (Rating: T) ULTIMATE BABY SURPRISE: NEW DADDY REACTS Or: if not by filming a Youtube tag video, how else do you tell your husband you're gonna have a baby?
Retrograde by Shealezz (Rating: M) Jimin wants a bad boy that will be good just for him. Jungkook wants a good boy that will be bad just for him. And Jimin absolutely, undeniably, doubtlessly hates Jungkook just as much as he loves him.
Four Words After Sex by jonghyunslisterine (Rating: T) "Hey, wanna get pancakes?"
One white candle by Hexz (Rating: E) Anyone who knew him could tell he'd only been trying to get Jeongguk riled up. Also; Jeongguk is a frustrating man to love.
Start of Time by Fleurete (Rating: M) HP!AU. Perfect student Jeon Jungkook isn’t fond of new kid Park Jimin. He doesn’t care if its irrational, he just can’t stand him or his pretty face. But as Jimin starts to worm his way into his life, everything Jungkook thought he knew about Jimin falls apart around him, and soon he is forced to discern for himself the truth of the mystery surrounding Park Jimin.
dragon in a flower garden by namakemono (Rating: M) Jungkook and his small team of fellow students film a documentary over the span of a semester, researching a local gang and following the life of one of its former members. They had all agreed to remain impartial, but soon he realizes just how difficult that turns out to be.
keep that ass rewindin' by cocksluts (Rating: E) In the frenzy of their mating, Jungkook realises he never gave Jimin's ass the proper rimming he's been wanting to give it for a long time.
Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang by jeonify (Rating: M) "Welcome, first time at Abraxas?" (aka that 1920s au where jeongguk brings his brother yoongi to watch lauded bar singer kim taehyung, and ends up falling head over heels with hidden gem park jimin.)
until then, sink slowly by flitter (Rating: M) Recovering from post-breakup restlessness leads to rash decisions, like buying a plane ticket to a remote island 5.4k miles away. Like spending ten days with an unsuspecting tour guide. Like maybe falling in love – this time, the right way. (also: the trip to Santorini and a dash of soulmates au that no one asked for)
home alone by ninagum (Rating: M) 'Q: What is Jeongguk doing nowadays? A: Playing Overwatch!' They say video games can be addictive, and Jeon Jeongguk is the case that only confirms it. As he ignores his pseudo-boyfriend, Park Jimin, he levels up unexpectedly in just one night. He would've been No. 1 in the country, certainly, if Jimin hadn't suddenly decided to strike back. PWP!!
Sweet Smoke by insideimasadrainbow (Rating: T) Based off this prompt: "i’m a firefighter and you started a fire in your kitchen but you’re still flirting with me even though you’re not wearing pants and im carrying you down a ladder as you compliment me on my muscles ”
One Page Pornography by signifying_nothing (Rating: E) a collection of short stories from prompts on tumblr! newest chapter: sugakookie: genderfluidity, pegging, mild humiliation
Take Care of You by prettyyoongi (Rating: Not Rated) When one of his classmates recommends working as a cocktail waiter at the strip club, Jimin thinks it's the solution to his financial problems. All he wanted was quick and easy money, he didn't expect to fall for the barback with a nice smile and even nicer biceps.
the jimin effect by euphoriae (Rating: E) "Baby, I love how strong you are," Jimin praises and Jungkook flushes, feeling way too excited already, considering they haven't done much. But that's the Jimin-Effect.
Be My First, Be My Last by PinkBTS (Rating: T) "Happiness often sneaks in through a door you didn't know you left open" -John Barrymore Things never seem to work out the way Jimin wants, until they do.
Stigma by iamverynofun, insideimasadrainbow, JeongDal, miniyoongi, Only_Baby_Scars, Redghoul, riordmag, superwholocked666, TiTAEnium, Vi (Huilen), zaphyre (Rating: M) The things that happened to Park Jimin as a child were never his fault, and he had always tried to remind himself of that. Even without a father, a mother, he somehow had always managed to be at peace. Jeon Jungkook has always had a family, a text book magazine life. But behind closed doors, his world is dark, pressured and he has no way out. No amount of magic can stop certain things from happening. Not for Jimin. Not for Jungkook. Not for anyone.
sweeter than sweet by manggae (Rating: M) Jimin makes chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, but Jungkook thinks Jimin is much sweeter.
My Youth is Yours by softboys (Rokeby) (Rating: E) It's too early to be awake, but not too early to get off.
You're The Only Voice My Heart Can Recognize by DeadpanSnarker (Rating: G) Jungkook believes in the old-fashioned image of love, not wanting to dive in unless he’s 100% sure. Jimin falls in love too often, too easily; and gets screwed-over just as often. Both are hopeless romantics; both are tired of not finding The One™. And so they entangle themselves in something that neither could keep up with –of masquerades and pseudo personalities, of masks slipping away a second too late. Jimin and Jungkook let love be born between them even though Butterfly Flutter hates Doctor Love for breathing. But love never had a reason anyways. Jungkook was reluctant about being a radio host; little did he know that Doctor Love would be the only voice Jimin listens to. Still, a single sentence, at the command of a voice, was all it took for love to blossom in Jimin's heart.
plank on me by subjimin (Rating: Not Rated) Park Jimin is a radio-host scheduled to interview the young idol, Jeon Jungkook. So he doesn’t understand why he’s currently on the ground, with Jeon Jungkook staring down at him, while in the god awful plank position over his body.
don't talk, don't walk, just the two of us by sweetmxchi (Rating: M) Your secret's safe And no one has to know I'm your getaway And a little bit more than you can take I can make everything feel so damn good or Jimin and Jungkook are polar opposits to the public eye. In the secrecy of a room, though, maybe they can meet somewhere in the middle. *from The Cab's song "Can You Keep A Secret?"
Of Lace Panties and Accidental Magic byjonghyunslisterine (Rating: T) In which a meddlesome teenage witch makes a considerable mistake mixing her potions. (Or; Jungkook can't lie, Jimin's not looking like himself, and everyone knows Jungkook's in love with Jimin - except Jimin.)
Let Me by myshiteu (Rating: E) Jungkook is stuck in bed and just wants to make out. Jimin can help with that.
If We Were Anyone Else (I'd Probably Gag) by Fake Yoongi (monocchrome) (Rating: T) "Dare." "I dare you to tell us about the scar." "You can't do that!" "I just did." "But why?" "Blackmail material." Yoongi put it in air quotes, his voice going a little high to imitate Jimin. (or: they play truth or dare, and Jimin's put on the spot.)
You Don't Need Your Airplane Mode by ERRwriting (Rating: Not Rated) When Park Jimin is in serious need of a bodyguard, Jeon Jungkook is ready and willing to fill that position.
we don't talk anymore by teecysh (Rating: Not Rated) It only takes a few days for the silence to become too heavy.
How to Love You Like Me by annafeu (Rating: E) Jimin and Jungkook's tumultuous relationship comes to an end, but something keeps them away from anyone else. Based on the We Don't Talk Anymore pt. 2 cover
perfect square by wordcouture (Rating: E) 3 x 3 x 3 moments you might say that domesticity was made for them. aka jikook being aimlessly adorable and domestic
Muted love by papa_ya (Rating: M) But the words are silent, falling from his lips and rolling soundlessly down the floor. His mouth moves uselessly, trying to emit sound, and sound. He is a marionette on broken strings. What the fuck? Jimin frowns. Concern etches his soft features. “Kookie, what’s wrong with your voice?” --Or; Jimin is a model living with his tattoo artist boyfriend. Nine years into their relationship, Jungkook loses his voice. The only cure is to say the thing he has been holding back from saying.
To the naked eye by mecchayabaiFandoms (Rating: E) It’s one of those meaningless, mandatory classes, and Jungkook is fully prepare to spend it doodling dicks into his notebook. But when Jungkook sees the TA, the only thing he wants to do with a dick is stick it into him.
The Blue Channel by prettyyoongi (Rating: Not Rated) Jimin and Jungkook film a Q&A for Youtube. (A series of YouTube videos shot to let you in on the daily lives of Jimin, Jungkook, Hoseok, Yoongi, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Taehyung)
24k Rose Gold Hair by flitter (Rating: M) Getting a promotion is something Jeongguk is very capable of achieving. Getting a promotion while dealing with Jimin's ass – that’s a whole ‘nother story. Jeongguk’s friends don’t make things any easier.
i rob and i kill to keep him with me by jikookah (Rating: M) Jimin really hates Jeongguk's new best friend.
DTF, HMU? (Down To Fund, Help Me w/ Uni?) byjeonifyFandoms (Rating: M) that sugar daddy au with too little smut and too much feelings.
and i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands by jikookah (Rating: M) “Would you come to my game tomorrow?” Jeongguk regrets the question the second it is out. Of course he has always wanted to ask Jimin that—of course he dreams of it, of looking over at the bleachers and catching Jimin’s eye, maybe even hearing him cheer as Jeongguk scores a goal. There is no point in lying to himself, not letting himself indulge in his fantasies…but to say it out loud, well, Jeongguk knows he has screwed up even before Jimin tenses up in his arms, fingers coming to a halt where they had been previously stroking Jeongguk’s hair.
mind if i slow you down? by jikookah (Rating: E) They break and burn -- Jimin leaves. Jeongguk wasn't ready for him to come back.
play of words by jikookah (Rating: E) you suggest a word, i write something based on it.
Our Love Eternal by ChimchimeryFandoms (Rating: E) Jeon Jungkook's love rivals the love his family shares for his beautiful mate, Jimin. Except for his sister-in-law. It's her personal mission to bully Jimin. And to Jungkook's dismay, Jimin believes every word.
to be the last person whom you think of by adequater (Rating: T) Here’s the most important thing that everyone should note. Jeon Jeongguk does not hate Park Jimin. In fact, Jeongguk is a tiny bit in love with him. A tiny bit. “Wow, Park Jimin, you’re looking pretty damned ugly today!” Right, Jeongguk can explain this. “Suck a dick, Jeongguk."
We Can Smile by njhft_mgc (Rating: M) And inside is a plethora of MAC products he had ordered; a few of the single shadows, some powders, and a hell of a lot of brushes— Jungkook really hadn't planned on buying so much shit, but just glancing at the site had him doubling over and clicking Add to Cart for so many of the items. He couldn't stop himself. Jungkook was a weak man. "Well, damn... If you were gonna buy so much, I would've paid." or rich CEO boyfie jimin buys jungkook lots and lots of pretty stuff ok
Woo You (Milk) by jeonify (Rating: G) they say there are five rings in a successful relationship.
Everything Under the Sun by annafeu (Rating: E) Jungkook is spellbound by the south tribe's beautiful omega, Jimin, but Jimin, for some reason, is reluctant to return his affections.
Hey Kitty, Kitty by jonghyunslisterine (Rating: E) Jungkook and Jimin have been dancing around each other for ages, then Jimin goes into heat.
swim by jiminlogy (Rating: M) everything about the summer is temporary but jimin doesn't want jeongguk to be that. 
Jeongguk, you're perfect. We're perfect. bytaetriplejae (Rating: E) Jeongguk has a problem and his Hyung's decide to help. Whether or not they actually help is another question. All Jeongguk knows is that he wants Jimin's dick. But knowing his clumsy self he'd probably yank on it too hard or something...
always you by TsingaDark (Rating: G) Jungkook wakes up with a hangover and without any recollection of what happened the night before. Namjoon is quick to remind him exactly how embarrassing he behaved.
protégé by linzeigh (Rating: M) Jeon Jungkook, 20. Fresh-faced and eager Muscle. Strengths: ambition, determination, intellect, physical strength. Weaknesses: temper, temper. Kim Namjoon, 25. Organized crime boss, club owner, and all-around good guy. Strengths: logic, compassion, business savvy, loyalty. Weaknesses: depressive with a bleeding heart. Park Jimin, 23. Dancer, prostitute, right-hand man. Strengths: cunning, intuition, fearlessness, confidence. Weaknesses: Kim Namjoon, Jeon Jungkook.
Spaceship Earth by ERRwriting (Rating: T) Jeon Jungkook owns a vacation house in Orlando and Park Jimin rents the house once a month, every month. Jungkook could care less about his monthly visits, until he meets the guy, then decides he's going to care a lot.
Instagram Baddie Daddy by Sxnee (Rating: M) Jimin is a thirst trap and Jungkook is about to take a sip.
There's a moment I've been chasin' (and I finally caught it out) by huntaegi (Rating: Not Rated) “Where’s Jimin and Jungkook?” Yoongi asks, stretching in the kitchen doorway before coming to take his seat at the table- in Taehyung’s lap.“ Jimin was asleep when I went to check on them,” Hoseok supplies, before placing a plate in front of Yoongi, who smiles gratefully. “Not like Jimin to sleep in this-” Seokjin’s voice is cut off by a shriek, sounding from the hallway, followed by yells, just as a Park Jimin, in nothing but boxers and a huge white shirt runs into the kitchen. or the three times Jungkook chases Jimin and the one time he gets chased back
if the waves belong to the sea by teecysh (Rating: Not Rated) Jungkook lives a quiet unassuming life in Busan, working as a teacher for the city's primary school. Jimin is the son of a sailor. He's not meant to stay.
nocturnal animals by pettey (Rating: M) Jimin is the manager at a local convenience store, and Jungkook needs a job and someone to train him for the ring.
Hey Mickey! by yoongidontdoit (sammyinnerdglasses) (Rating: E) Park Jimin, star cheerleader, has it bad for the doe-eyed, shy freshman star of the lacrosse team, but the kid doesn't have any idea how hot he is. Jimin sets out on a mission to get senpai to notice him.
Surreptitious by Bangtanbananas (Rating: E) Vampires and lycans have been at war for centuries. For Death Dealer Jimin, his orders had always been the same: hunt the lycans, kill them off. But when a young lycan named Jeongguk crosses paths with him, their worlds collide in a way like never before.
radio station by jeonminie (Rating: Not Rated) jeongguk hoped that jimin would still listen to his favorite radio station, because it would be his only way to find him now.
We Made Electricity by eightninetwo (Rating: E) Jeongguk is adorable and innocent, yet absolutely charming and attractive at the same time. Jimin likes the whole package. And his package.
past the point of no return by busan_brat (Rating: M) Jungkook has never been the one to give up on things that mean the most to him. Jimin isn't an exception to that rule.
Eidolon (Come Back Again) byTrappingLightningBugs (Rating: T) Life needs to quit throwing Jimin curveballs before he's had his morning coffee--especially when said "curveball" looks vaguely familiar and is serving him his coffee.
expensive lips by flitter (Rating: M) Jungkook goes to Sephora on a mission to get some lipstick. He leaves completely enamored with an employee named Jimin.
i'll stick to you like glue-cose by cygnus (lucid_wisteria) (Rating: T) Jimin merely wanted to study in peace, yet a certain five-foot ten frat boy - unfortunately also a past hook up - that epitomizes the very definition of smugness in one entire body whose ego is as big and full-scaled as the national debt, won't let him.
Don't Get Up Yet by bangtansweaterpaws (Rating: Not Rated) “Let go Jungkookie, I need to get ready.” “Mmh, stay,” Jungkook’s grip tightened slightly as he mumbled groggily into Jimin’s chest. “Too cold for you to go.” Sighing, Jimin bent down to kiss him on his forehead, smiling at the younger’s childish antics. ***Or: Jimin needs to get ready for his classes but Jungkook doesn't want him to leave. To stop him from going, Jungkook resorts to trapping Jimin by hugging him and refusing to let go until the elder agrees to stay.
Up The River, Down With You by PinkBTS (Rating: E) Life in prison is hard, sure. Violent, a given. But among the ugly, people find each other, they always do. Things grow, things die and sometimes, things last.
it leads me to you by chimout (Rating: T) jungkook stares at the boy in front of him, watching the grin on his face stretch into the sun. he swallows and blinks up at him as the boy's eyes turn into the moon. his voice reminds him of home. "hello," the boy says, and jungkook muffles a sob. "are you lost?" or the story of how jungkook loses himself only to find a home in a boy who gives him the world.
If You Wanna Go to Heaven (You Should Fuck Me Tonight) by TrappingLightningBugs (Rating: E) They mark a trade; Jimin's soul for Jeongguk's body, till death does the hunter get dragged down to Hell. Those are the conditions. Or well, they're supposed to be.
honest you do by mnsg (Rating: T) “Do you think you’ll be a good husband?” Jimin smiles. “I’ll really, really try.” Korea's darling, Park Jimin, gets married.
love on top by decompositionbooks (Rating: E) jungkook and jimin are both exclusive tops but someone's got to give in.
Honey, I'd pet a dog for you (that's how whipped I am) by aegi (Not Rated) Jeongguk does, in fact, not like dogs. He does, in fact, like Jimin's Dogstagram though.
Forever Boys or Magnets by chanyeolingss (Rating: M) Jungkook comes upon a drunk Jimin at the bus stop and ends up carrying him home.
litany of dreams by polymaknaes (Rating: M) Jeongguk has been places, been different things: an angsty teenager, a hopeful student, a worn-out adult. Jimin comes in on a mundane Friday night, in the most unexpected way, and together—they create magic. (or: a study of intimacy)
Don't...You...DARE!!! by awkwardloafofbread (Rating: T) "Ggukie, Ggukie!!" Jimin says cheerfully like a little kid on Christmas morning. He's shaking Jeongguk harshly in an attempt to wake the sleeping boy up. When that isn't enough, only making the boy groan and grumble, Jimin pouts and stands up straight on the bed before slamming his bottom down onto the younger's stomach. Jeongguk wheezes out, his eyes popping right open - he is now awake. Success!
The Omega Revolution by PinkBTS (Rating: E) "Loving you was like going to war, I never came back the same." -Warsan Shire Or,There are things Jimin loves. There are things Jimin hates. In the middle of a shifting world, Jeon Jeongguk manages to be both.
Cherry by bananacookies (Rating: E) Jimin and Jungkook, two young wolves bound together by some unknown fate, grow up together as neighbors. When Jimin begins school, Jungkook waits for him at the bus stop, anxiously looking up and down the street. When their parents aren't looking, they nuzzle each other's necks and ears. When Jimin's lying beside him at their weekly sleepovers, tired from the games they'd played, Jungkook can fall asleep inhaling the sweet scent of cherries. When they grow older, as with any relationship, things inevitably change.
4 likes, 0 retweets by atechamcham (Rating: T) Jeongguk just really likes Jimin's Instagram. And his Twitter. And his Facebook. Jeongguk likes him too, maybe, but he's never going to admit that. (the four times Jeongguk feels a little creepy about his online stalking and the one time it actually works out)
why don't you review me? by golpeukaediFandoms (Rating: E) Jimin reviews sex toys on Youtube. Jeongguk has a crush.
we should meet in air, me and you by sunsmiles (Rating: T) Ripped of his sun, Jimin finds himself floating in space, alone and aimless. This is a story of rebirth and redemption.
There is sun and spring and green forever by bambambams (phanjessmagoria) (Rating: E) Jimin might have finally found someone who's perfect for him, who can give him whatever he needs and then some. The problem being, maybe Jimin isn't sure just what that is. && “Well—will I see you again?” Jimin tugged on the hem of his shirt, unintentionally exposing his shoulder; the bite mark Jungkook had left on him was just visible in the orange glow of the streetlights. “Please,” he answered.
Honestly, I’ve got more stories I want to recommend, but for the sake of 101, I’ll incorporate those into the next list (which should be out very soon considering the number of wonderful authors this fandom has!!)
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consoledacup · 8 years ago
Text
Effortless, Really
It was quite a strange feeling. 
To be lying next to your best friend in a foreign bed.
To be lying next to your best friend in a foreign bed with no clothes on. 
To be lying next to your best friend in a foreign bed with no clothes on after having sex. 
And the strange thing about it was how the strange feeling was blindingly familiar. 
It was blindingly familiar to be lying next to your best friend in a foreign bed with no clothes on after having sex. 
Your best friend whom you were ripped apart from not hours earlier, and even as you encountered your worst nightmare in the form of Grant Ward and shed a tear for your past love, your heart furiously beat a steady pattern: 
fitz - fitz - fitz - fitz - fitz - fitz - fitz - fitz - fitz - fitz - fitz - fitz - fitz - fitz 
Your best friend who stared at you in your undercover ensemble a little too long when you opened the bathroom door in the hotel room that you two were currently occupying.
Your best friend whom you stared at in his undercover ensemble a little too long when you opened the bathroom door in the hotel room that you two were currently occupying.
Your best friend who kissed you with equal parts abandon and tenderness in his dimly lit bunk a day ago, and there was a promise with each kiss... each touch... each caress... 
i want this - i want you - we won’t let it - i’m right here - i’m ready for this - i’m ready for us - we’re together - it’s you - it’s you - it’s always always been you 
Your best friend who allowed you to reach for his hand after you shyly proclaimed your desire to see Daisy’s fourth dimension glimpse through. 
It was quite a strange feeling. 
To feel the electric pulses of attraction simply by holding one’s hand.
To feel safe and loved and steady simply from the firm grasp of his fingers.
Your best friend who held you for a solid minute as you both reeled from a teary goodbye to two people you will probably never see again.
Your best friend who didn’t even try to hide his amusement when you suggested you two start over back to where you began. 
Leopold Fitz. Engineering.
He still went along with it.
Your best friend who tiptoed around you for three months straight, afraid of stepping on pieces of your fractured heart. 
His politeness and sensitivity simply fractured it all the more.
Your best friend whom you gripped with a ferocity that shocked you both once you realized it was him who survived the excursion to Death. 
Your best friend who embodied weariness, his pained expression revealing more than words ever could before you gripped him with a ferocity that shocked you both once you realized it was him who survived the excursion to Death.
Your best friend who tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before softly stroking your cheek with his thumb while a piece of you wondered if you’d ever.see.him.again.
Your best friend who stubbornly refused to listen to reason, admitting his selfish need to keep you alive whatever the cost. 
Even if the cost meant his own life in return.
Your best friend whom you kissed -- even as your heart was torn in two. 
Your kiss was deliberate and bittersweet and soft and love and perfect.
Your best friend who surprised you with his impulsivity as he smashed his lips on yours, holding you fiercely. 
His kiss was desperate and messy and passionate and unexpected and perfect.
Your best friend who approached you in the quiet stillness of the dawn, choosing to remain in the stalled relationship limbo you found yourselves in rather than disrupt the perfect moment that lay before you in the light of the sun.
Your best friend whom you watched wrestle a broken heart as he studied the monolith every free and waking moment he had in order to rescue your exiled boyfriend.
Your best friend who broke your heart every free and waking moment because you were finally finally finally in the same room with him and yet the distance between the two of you was infinite.
Your best friend who patiently, quietly sat while you confided in him everything that happened on the planet of despair, knowing it would change things between the two of you. 
Forever.
Your best friend who doted on you with a certain sort of thoughtfulness that made your heart laugh and scream and cry and cry and cry.
Your best friend who held you in his arms when your grief and guilt consumed you, and you couldn’t stop the tears, and still he sat with you, knowing the lovely date he went to great lengths to preserve and prepare was over in a matter of minutes. 
Still, he sat.
Your best friend whom you woke up with that first morning away from the place with no sun, and you had never felt more loved and safe, even as a piece of you longed for Will. 
Your best friend who fell asleep, sitting up, on the floor next to your bed because he refused to be ripped apart from you so soon after finding you. 
Your best friend whose physical presence lulled you into a sense of security and peace while the world spun madly around you and everything you had grown used to for six months was ripped cleanly away from you in an instant.
Your best friend who gripped your hand in his and didn’t let go and rescued you from Hell. 
Your best friend who called your name -- as if from an unfathomable dream -- and it wasn’t a dream, and he had really done it and was frantically calling for you over and over and over....
Your best friend who dove through a hole in the universe for you.
Your best friend whom you never stopped thinking about the six months you lived in an entirely separate solar system from him. 
Your best friend whom you clung to with a certain kind of hope you had to harness deep within your bones. 
Fitz will find a way.
Your best friend who filled you with a delicious sort of nervousness and excitement when he clumsily asked you to dinner. 
Your best friend whom you finally finally finally allowed to see your true feelings. 
Feelings for him.
Your best friend who became your best friend again, and things were almost perfect. 
Almost. 
Your best friend who wasn’t your best friend whom you realized you had feelings for while he alienated you and over and over again.
Your friend who even through the hurt and the pain and the fighting held you against him as the sky of rocks rained down on you in an underground city.
Your colleague who insisted on leaving you, dashing any hope you had of reconciliation.
Your estranged partner who couldn’t even look at you without disdain and hurt and demanded you look anywhere else but where you really wanted to look. 
Your best friend who tried to put up a front when you reunited, closing off any sort of intimacy or vulnerability or closeness that might have occurred before.
Your best friend who wondered where you were every waking moment that wasn’t spent in resentment for your departure. 
Your best friend whom you missed every waking moment the two of you were apart. 
Your best friend who broke your heart again and again and again when he allowed frustration to get the better of him in his stalled recovery: 
His stalled recovery that your presence only exacerbated. 
Your best friend who was in a coma for nine of the longest days of your life while pieces of you wondered if he’d ever.wake.up.
Your best friend who -- in an act of true, gut-wrenching heroism -- handed you his heart before handing you the oxygen, prepared to die. 
Asking you to let him. 
The very thought of that was preposterous. 
Of course you wouldn’t let him.
Your best friend whom you watched with frustration and heartbreak defend Ward again and again until he finally understood the monster Ward was as you fell from the sky.
Your best friend whose feelings of betrayal resonated with you deeply, his eyes screaming the words he wouldn’t say aloud: 
i t ‘ s h a p p e n i n g a g a i n
p l e a s e j u s t l i e a n d t e l l m e y o u a n d s k y e w e r e w r o n g
i t c a n ‘ t b e w a r d
h e ‘ s n o t h i n g l i k e l i k e l i k e h i m 
Your best friend whose arms you raced towards before another thought crossed your mind because he was alive and so was Hydra.
Your best friend who just knew and wrapped you in his arms, holding you while you grieved for a sister you couldn’t imagine your life without. 
Your best friend who was planning on jumping out of a plane to save you from yourself.
Your best friend whose gutted expression and muted screams still haunts you occasionally as you surrendered to the wind and surrendered to the inevitable.
Your best friend who gave you hope when you had none left, working alongside you, insisting: 
there was a way - there was an option C - there was a cure
Your best friend whom you couldn’t imagine beginning this exciting, adventurous journey into mystery without.
Your best friend who laughed alongside you in a sort of light hopelessness of ever passing your field assessments. 
Your best friend who challenged you and made you better and became your trusted second pair of eyes. 
Your best friend who graduated the Academy early just like you did and was determined to remain your partner and best friend after graduation. 
Just like you were.
Your best friend who confided in you the pain he endured and the hurt he wrestled with and the hard lesson he learned again and again: 
blood wasn’t always thicker than water, love wasn’t always a given in a family unit, and fathers weren’t always kind.
Your best friend who became your best friend once he was assigned to you as a lab partner. 
Your lab partner who was assigned to you, and you bristled from the idea because you knew he hated you.
Your rival who tried to compete with you every chance he was given. 
Your achingly shy acquaintance who was quiet and pasty yet so incredibly smart and... 
...handsome.
Every encounter, every experiment, every moment shared, every word spoken, every argument, every movie night, every meal shared, every confession, every act of bravery, every moment of grief, every heartache, every every every every every every every every every 
It all led here. 
In this foreign hotel room on this bed with your best friend who was so, so, so much more than that and -- yet -- still your best friend in the whole world because that part would never, ever change, even as your relationship with him evolved more and more into something beautiful and wonderful and scary and magnificent. 
The culmination of every single part and moment and word shared between you and him rests with you two in the afterglow. 
You scoot closer to him, and he smiles, and you smile, and then he kisses you slow slow slow -- so different from the frenzied, sloppy, rushed kisses you two shared moments before -- as if he had all the time in the world to kiss you, and you revel in the unhurried bliss of it. 
Your lips still against each other, and he smiles against your lips, and you commit that smile to memory -- without quite realizing that’s what you’re doing -- and then you feel his smile against your cheek and your nose and your forehead and then, once you’re settled on his chest, your hairline. 
He starts playing with your hair with a tenderness that astounds you, and you start drawing patterns on his chest, and his hand finds yours, and he breaks the silence: 
“How do you feel?” 
“There aren’t enough words in the English dictionary to describe what I’m feeling right now.” 
You can hear the rumble and feel the slight tremors of his chest as he chuckles softly. 
“I know the feeling.” 
There is living, breathing, all-consuming passion and affection brewing, and you finally understand -- deep in your bones -- what it means and how it feels and why it’s called: 
making 
love
-
A/N: I don’t even know where this came from. But it’s there. And I like how it turned out. I couldn’t wait until normal business hours to post. 
Thus concludes the #fsww challenge. Obviously, I did not keep within the given timeframe, but I’m still really happy I stayed the course. 
And now! To concentrate and get cracking on all the amazing prompts you guys have sent my way. Feel free to keep sending them. The more, the merrier! 
At the risk of making this part longer than the fic itself, here is an extensive list of all the other fics written affiliated with this episode. Get comfortable. 
As We Deviate from That Path - extensive play-by-play of crossing the event horizon (skipping over the very explicit parts -- that’s just for them) through Jemma’s POV
Change Becomes Exponential - extensive play-by-play of crossing the event horizon through Fitz’s POV
This Will Go On All Night - Mack’s POV of that entire night
I’m Doom - Can’t forget Hive’s perspective and two cents! 
No Lab Coats on This One - hidden moments before the mission is in full effect told through Fitz’s POV 
Enjoy! 
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