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barcaatthemoon · 1 day

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the high life || barcelona x teen!reader ||

You get caught after accidentally eating an edible at a party.

"Where is (Y/n)?" Vicky was losing her mind. The only way that Aleia had agreed to let either of you go to this party was if you watched out for each other, and Vicky had lost you nearly an hour ago. One moment the two of you were dancing, and the next, Vicky turned to see you had vanished. That wasn't like you, so Vicky was really starting to freak out the longer that you were gone. "(Y/n)!"

"Vicky, hi." It was obvious that something was very wrong with you. Vicky supported you as she led you outside and away from all the commotion of the house party. Someone would be by any moment now to pick the two of you up, and Vicky hoped that it was someone cool. Vicky didn't know what you could have taken or been given, but it was obvious that you were on something.

"Oh god, I am so dead," Vicky groaned.

"No you're not, we're so alive Vicky. We're alive, and it's beautiful!" you shouted. Vicky facepalmed, wondering if this was how Alexia felt constantly babysitting the younger girls. You were a couple of months younger than Vicky, but a whole year behind her in school. Still, the two of you were close, often being referred to as the "terror twins" of the team.

"We are both so cooked. Hey, (Y/n), I need you to do me a favor and calm down, please. Someone is coming to pick us up, and you don't want to get in trouble, do you?" Vicky asked you. You still seemed to be off in your own little world until you saw Frido's car pull up. Vicky supposed that she could work with Frido, it was better than Alexia. Anybody was better than Alexia with the state you were in, or at least that was what Vicky originally thought.

"Fridolina, oh my god, you're so pretty. I hope that I get a girlfriend as pretty as you one day," you said as you threw yourself into her passenger seat. Vicky sat silently in the backseat, hopeful that Frido wouldn't question her. "If I was older, do you think I could be your girlfriend?"

"(Y/n), shut up!" Vicky hissed from the backseat. You turned to glare at her, very unhappy with how shitty of a wingwoman she was being for you. "Please take us home now."

"Is there anything that you two want to tell me?" Frido asked as she glanced between you and Vicky. Vicky shrunk back shamefully, unsure of how to explain that you had disappeared during the party and Vicky had only just found you in your current state. "Did either of you eat or drink something you weren't supposed to? Perhaps smoked something, even?"

"I'd never smoke, it's bad for you. I just had one of the little snacks they had set out. I'm not a professional, but that was one shitty baker. Those cookies tasted like dirt," you rambled. Frido's eyes widened as she looked solely at Vicky. "Oh, wait, I saved you one. You were dancing for a long time, but then I came back to the dance floor and you were gone. Here you go."

"Nope, I'll take that," Frido said as she snatched the cookie from your hands. You frowned and pouted at the Swede, who seemed unphased. Vicky knew then and there that the two of you were not going back to Vicky's for a sleepover. Vicky was dropped off at her house, but you went home with Frido, who made Vicky promise to come into practice early tomorrow for a meeting.

…

"No, surely you cannot be talking about my Chiqui," Mapi scoffed as Frido filled her and Ingrid in on the situation. You were still fast asleep in Frido's bed. It had been a hassle to say the least to get you to sleep last night. Vicky hadn't taken anything, so after a phone call with Alexia, the other girl had been let off the hook for the time being. You, on the other hand, were practically dead to the world still. "Jesus Christ."

"Mapi, what are you doing?" Ingrid asked as her girlfriend stormed towards Frido's bedroom. Just as Mapi began to make her way down the hallway, you walked out of Frido's bedroom. You looked absolutely miserable, experiencing your very hangover of any type. Your head was pounding, your body felt exhausted, and your mouth had never been so dry before.

"Where do you think you're going you little junkie?" Mapi asked as you just pushed past her. You continued to ignore her as you poured yourself a glass of water and walked into the living room. You sat down on the couch and tried to curl into yourself, but Mapi was relentless with you. "I tell your Mami that I'll look after you, and this is what you do? Just you wait until Alexia gets over here, you are in so much trouble! I cannot believe you would do such a thing. I mean, you are supposed to be representing your town. What kind of example are you set-,"

"Enough, shut up!" you shouted. It was immediately obvious that was absolutely the wrong thing to do. Mapi's fists balled up as she just stormed out of Frido's apartment. Ingrid looked torn between chasing after Mapi and giving her space. Frido looked at you with a disappointed look, one that made your chest hurt just as badly as Mapi's words had.

"She was just upset because she cares about you," Ingrid said coldly. You quickly looked between the both of them before you got up and tried to run off. You made it all the way to the parking lot before you saw Mapi and Alexia talking to each other. You tried to turn around, but Ingrid was right behind you. There was nowhere for you to go, so you just gave up and sat down on the sidewalk.

"Ah, there she is! I bet you thought that you could make a quick break, didn't you?" Immediately, Mapi was in on you again. This time, you weren't left to be yelled at and berated. Much to your surprise, Alexia was the one who stepped in to stop things.

"Hey, calm down. Go with Ingrid, and let me talk to her. She's not going to say anything with you going at her like that," Alexia reasoned. Mapi huffed and puffed, but went to Ingrid anyway. "I hear you had a very adventurous night."

"It was an accident. How could I have known what was in those cookies?" you asked. Alexia sighed as she looked down at you. For the first time in a while, you looked just like you had at your first practice with the senior team. You had done a lot of growing up, but Alexia was reminded how young you really were. You were young, but didn't have the chance to be a normal teenager and make mistakes like everyone else.

"Like you said, it was an accident. You're smart, and you know what's at stake here, so this isn't something you would do on purpose in season. Maria cares about you, and she's scared of what could happen if the club decides to drug test you. You'll be looking at a suspension at best, but you know that already."

"Yeah, I do," you confirmed. Alexia sighed as she glanced at the lobby where Ingrid and Mapi seemed to be fighting. "I can just go back home, I guess. I've caused enough problems already. I don't deserve to be here."

"Yes, you do. You've worked hard, even more than any of us really know. So, when the time comes, you'll take your punishment and work on resecuring your spot. There will be apologies and lots of hard conversations, but none of us want to see you go, not even Maria," Alexia reassured you.

…

"Why don't you go over there and talk to her?" Ingrid asked. Mapi had been watching you for weeks. Your suspension and probationary period were over, and you had yet to even attempt to speak with Mapi yet. It had been radio silence between the two of you since that day at Frido's apartment. Ingrid was tired of it, especially since she could see how badly it was hurting both of you.

"Because she doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. I yelled at her, made her feel like nothing. I've never apologized," Mapi said. She felt an almost overwhelming amount of shame every single time that she looked at you. It felt impossible to go over and talk to you. "She won't even look at me. I lost my Chiqui."

"Don't tell me that you're afraid of a 17 year old girl," Ingrid laughed. Mapi sputtered and stammered, but made no attempt to argue with Ingrid. She was afraid of you, afraid that you wouldn't accept any apologies that she could muster up. Mapi had been so mean to you that morning, and she would have kept going if you hadn't stopped her. She didn't even mean any of it, she was just scared and angry.

"She is almost 18 now," Mapi grumbled. Ingrid rolled her eyes and whistled to get your attention. There weren't that many people in the gym left now, just the three of you.

"Chiqui, Maria wants to talk to you," Ingrid said. She walked over to the door and blocked it, meaning neither of you could leave until you talked to each other.

"I am sorry for yelling at you. I don't think you're a disappointment to your home or your Mami," Mapi started. She seemed a bit lost, like she was completely out of her depth. "You made a mistake and that's okay. I've made mistakes, and I should have shown you the same kindness that I had been shown. One day, you might be in my position, and trust me, it's easier to forgive than hold a grudge."

"I'm sorry that I yelled at you," you apologized. Mapi didn't even wait for you to finish before she was rushing over to hug you. You let her pick you up off the ground, even if she was hugging a little too tight. "Put me down now, please."

"Bagheera misses you, so you need to come back with us immediately," Mapi said. You knew that it wasn't just Bagheera who missed you, especially since Ingrid had been bringing you over secretly while Mapi worked on her little passion projects and hobbies. Bagheera had been seeing you at least once a month, but Mapi hadn't really spoken to you in almost three monhs, and it had been driving her crazy.

"I'll have to ask Alexia," you told her. Mapi brushed it off, already having been told by Alexia to fix things with you countless times. The team didn't feel right without Mapi's influence on you.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona imagine #barcelona x reader #barca femeni x reader #barca femeni imagine #teen!reader

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minhosimthings · 1 day

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Preview: Silk and Pearls || SJY

Synopsis: He was the artist, and you were his muse. But what happens when his muse doesn't see herself like the way he sees her?

Pairings: fashiondesigner!Jake * Model!fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, fingering, mirror sex, anal sex, unprotected p in v (not for you), bondage, use of handcuffs, edging, degradation, praise, sorta angsty in the beginning, insecure reader, overall good ol bf Jake, lots of kissing cause these two are FREAKS

Release Date: 28/09/2024

Status: Posted!

Read Here

divider by @enchanthings

"Did I really make a dress that pretty or is it just you, my love?"

You felt your cheeks warm up drastically at the sound of your boyfriend's voice, along with his face appearing behind you. You saw his eyes light up as you stared at him in the mirror in front of you, his wandering pupils admiring how snug you looked in the dress you were wearing. With it's brilliant outlay of white chiffon along with its minute details of chartreuse pearls highlighting everything Jake wanted to, it was by far the most beautiful thing he had ever breathed life into it.

Or perhaps it was only because of the person who was wearing it.

"Don't go putting your hard work all over my shoulders again, babe." You laughed, turning your body to face his, "I'm just the model."

"The model is the muse, might I remind you." Jake corrected you, leaning in to place his forehead on yours, his love-struck eyes gazing longingly into yours, "How did I manage to capture the bouts of your affection hm, mon amour?"

"You spend one week in Paris for Fashion Week and suddenly you're a romance novelist." You laugh, raising your arms and placing them on either of his shoulders, "As for your question—" you pretended to think, all while ghosting your glossy lips over his plump ones, "—I don't think you'll ever get the answer to that."

"Shame, I was hoping you'd say something overly sweet about me." Jake laughed, before smudging his lips against yours. His ever so slender tongue moved in your mouth, as his hold on your waist tightened. Pulling away from the kiss, Jake took pride in the fact that you were quite breathless.

"Jaeyun.” you spoke in a scolding voice, lowering your voice to a comedic level, “We are at work.”

“Your point is?”

“My point is-” you looked into his beautiful eyes with nothing but love and admiration, “-there are about five people who know about our relationship, and you know you can't get into a scandal, it will positively ruin your reputation, the reputation you-” you poked his chest with your finger, “-worked so hard to achieve.”

“Let them write what they want.” Jake spoke to you in a honey coated voice, as if you were the very oxygen his lunds consumed in order to keep themselves alive, “You, my love, are practically impossible to resist.”

“You better give me your Paris lessons when we get home,” you smirked, eyes wandering down to his lush lips again, “lover boy.” The space between the both of you was practically non-existent now, and Jake could feel the pearls of your dress slightly pierce him through his thin button-up shirt. Perhaps he regretted making such a beautiful dress, especially to dress you up in it, because the way the touch of your thigh on his and felt, he could rip it off right there and then, wasting his months of hard work, and devour you against the mirror. He wished he could see your divine eyes roll to the back of your head, while he ravished your pussy with his tongue, all whilst leaving his personal signature on your thighs. After all, that was what he added the thigh-high slit in the dress for.

“Yeun,” you warned him, as his hand trailed higher up your thigh, only stopping at the sound of your voice and giving a tight squeeze to the flesh, “You can have me all you want when we get home.” The sight of the pout on his face, a stark contrast to the siren eyes he held five seconds ago, made your mouth twist into a gentle smile.

“Don’t blame me if you can’t walk tomorrow morning, love.” He smirked and went in for a kiss, as beautiful as the wavering skyline of the city, all the building lights flickering along with the stars to remind the earth of how alive it was. In the deepest parts of the kiss, where your lips danced to a tune which you had memorised, love reigned its gentle rule.

•••••••••

Tune in for the rest of it!

Taglist: @onlyhyunjin @yvnempire @j-jinxee @kpopaussieline @candewlsy @heesingshoon @biancaness

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aurumalatus · 2 days

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𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝟏

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

genre/warnings. pixelprincess!au (princess!reader x knight!kinich), reposted for formatting lol

summary. a series of random headcanons from the universe! part 1 of many because i have lots of thoughts about these two

author's note. feel free to come scream about some more headcanons with me <3 enjoy!

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

kinich and the princess have known about each other for a long time, but it’s only recently that they’ve really talked a lot and become close (since kinich became your guard)

kinich is a bit more open in this universe because although he grew up an orphan, he was recruited into the guard earlier and taken care of by his fellow trainees and the castle staff. he’s still pretty serious and deadpan at his core but he has a bit of silly in him too

the maids especially used to dote on him a lot. they would coo about how beautiful his eyes are and sneak him cakes and sweets from the kitchen

kinich and the princess actually had one key interaction when they were children that she doesn’t remember

the princess came down with a bad illness and had to stay in her room for about a week. kinich was assigned guard right outside her room, but she never saw him. still, they used to talk a lot during that week through her door, and she never quite figured out who her temporary friend was.

princess used to be *very* spoiled and she knows this. kinich is one of the only people who knocks her down a peg, and he also taught her how to do a lot of practical things (i.e. cleaning, cooking, weaving)

kinich takes his shirt off by grabbing the back of his collar and pulling it over his head (idk if i’m describing this well, but the image in my head is INSANE).

once they actually get together, kinich is the type to kiss the princess’s tears away when she cries (i’m going to scream)

kinich secretly has always known he loved the princess in some capacity, maybe since the day he was inducted as her guard (he looked up into her eyes, knelt before her, and felt something burst in his chest). he doesn’t feel like he deserves her love in return and feels so committed to his duty that he won’t do anything about it.

kinich isn’t afraid of dying, but he’s afraid of leaving the princess alone. it’s the reason why he insists on teaching her so many practical things like fighting—he doesn’t trust anyone else to protect her like he can.

there’s a yearly tournament among the guards (and any citizens that want to enter) that is held to win the royals’ favor. kinich is required to participate due to his position, but he tries a lot harder than he lets on—something about letting another guard win kind of irritates him. he wins your ribbon as a prize, a sign of your personal favor, and keeps it on him at all times. he claims it’s just to prove that you owe him.

kinich is a TERROR in the capital marketplace. sellers love him and hate him—he’s fair, but he barters like HELL. you, on the other hand, are any easy target. you will pay pretty much any price they name, and this irritates kinich greatly.

kinich is in charge of training newer recruits to the guard, and older members will warn them not to mention the princess in front of him. last time someone said something disrespectful about her, kinich had them running laps until the sun came up.

most mornings, kinich trains at sunrise. the princess will come out to join him sometimes, either to just lay down in the grass and talk, or to bring out a picnic

many princesses from other nations are attracted to kinich, but he does not return the sentiment—whenever one tries to talk to him, he acts extremely dry and boring on purpose until they lose interest.

kinich has a lot of piercings, but they're not always optimal to fight in—on days when he expects a battle, he wears a pair of studs that the princess gifted him

the castle maids have a running bet on how long it will take you and kinich to get married. sometimes they try to push it along by telling kinich you're looking for him when you aren't, just to pull the two of you together. the pot is over one million Mora, and at some point, the queen joins as well.

#genshin impact x reader #kinich x reader #genshin x reader #kinich x you #genshin impact imagines #pixelprincess!au #adeptus ink

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always-just-red · 1 day

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A/N: So I threatened a while back to write MC arresting Sylus since he literally won’t shut up about it. Thought this would be a silly fic but it ended up an angst-driven exploration of how his time with MC is probably finite and ill-fated?? Anyway Sylus is too soft for this, I’m sorryyyy (Sy I love you! I would never do this to you! ‘Didn’t it come from your imagination, though?’ Ssshhhh you don’t know what you’re saying!! 🥰)

To Remain Silent

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus has told you to arrest him one too many times...

Genre: Emotional rollercoaster honestly? Some angst, some comfort (and a lil spice for flavour)

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, vaguely established relationship, gets a little steamy at the end (mostly kissing tbh), artistic licence applied liberally since this would be WAY too risky for MC to actually attempt 😭😭

| Word count: 2.7k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Sylus knows this isn’t real.

You watch him through the glass of his cell, and the subtle tint to it lets you know that he can’t watch you back. He’s sat on the single bench inside, leaning against the far wall, his long legs stretched out before him. His hands are cuffed— tucked away behind his back— but he still looks comfortable. More than comfortable: at ease. At home. Bored.

“You think I can’t feel those pretty little eyes of yours on me?” he mutters, head back, eyes closed. “I’m at your mercy, kitten. Are you really only going to look?”

You tap a button on the glass. “You should start taking this seriously.”

He smiles at the sound of your voice, but his eyes don’t open; there’s still nothing to see. “I’m taking it very seriously, sweetie.”

“I don’t think you are.”

The smile turns even more smug: a confession, all by itself. He sits up and leans forward, like someone who’s found a change of conversation to be interesting. His eyes open— managing to find you, somehow, and— can he see you? No. It’s an educated guess, he’s just selling it with confidence.

Leisurely, he rises from his seat and saunters over to the glass. “Let me see you,” he orders, then bargains: “Please? This is so very—” he toes the division— “one-sided.”

You can’t look him in the eyes, can you? This is hard enough without the windows to your soul baring your heart and your mind to him, like they always do. You should have worn those sunglasses he bought you for that undercover assignment. This is what they’re for, right? Hiding.

With a circular swipe of your finger, the glass before you clears and Sylus meets your gaze.

“Hi,” he teases.

You fold your arms across your chest. “Hey.”

“This is quite some effort you’ve gone to, kitten. And all for me, no less.”

“What effort?” you dismiss plainly. “You practically slapped those handcuffs on yourself.”

It’s not an exaggeration: from the cuffs to the ride here, not a single stage of his arrest has been resisted. The closest he’s gotten to a lack of cooperation was when you’d first restrained and dragged him from his study, where he’d been inclined to point out that the bedroom was the other way.

“Well, I didn’t want to cause a fuss,” he smirks. One of his hands is brought forward, and his handcuffs now hang uselessly from a finger. “Tell me,” he says, letting them swing as he holds your gaze, “what am I to expect now I’ve been so masterfully captured?”

You glance at the restraints, unmoved. “That isn’t for me to decide.”

A door behind you slides open, and— right on time— an altogether more impressive presence joins you before the cell. Sylus glances her up and down as the click of her heeled boots come to a stop; he has never met your captain, but he knows her face.

“You really cashed in all your favours, didn’t you, sweetie?” he observes. He turns to address the woman beside you: “We haven’t been introduced. I’m—”

“I know who you are,” Jenna interrupts, her tone as incorruptible as yours.

Sylus’s arm lifts, resting on the glass above you so he can tower over you, despite the partition. “Is that right?” he purrs absent-mindedly, dropping his head so he can speak into your ear. “Sweetie… I thought you could keep a secret.”

He’s goading you into your usual game, but the stakes don’t interest you. “You were wrong.”

You’re at your own table, dealing your own cards. Does he want to play? You think he might. His lips are curving at the delicious prospect of a challenge. You’ve given him a taste of it. He wants more.

Jenna is studying her clipboard, acting oblivious. She senses the impasse. Asks Sylus: “Do you know why you’re here?”

He huffs impatiently. “Enlighten me.”

“Sylus,” you scold.

Red eyes widen a fraction.

You see it.

Good.

…

Sylus thinks this might be real.

You said his name. His real name: the one with sharp, bloody strings attached. The one on all the posters. The one in your precious Association’s archives, linked to stacks of files and crime scene photos, most of which he isn’t even responsible for.

Sylus. You said: Sylus.

It was worthy of a grand reveal— the sort of plot twist that delivered the suspense of so many thrillers— but here you are, speaking it like it’s nothing. Not a slip of the tongue; not a mistake. And it’s different here. He’s not your Sylus. He’s theirs.

Their murderer. Their monster. Their convenient little scapegoat for everything dark and unholy.

The captain is reading him a list, reeling off every crime— each alleged sin. As if he needs a reminder. As if all the time in the world could ever let him forget. “Needless to say, Mr Sylus,” she summarises, “due to the nature of these crimes, you may prove exempt from our standard procedures. A case like this is… unprecedented. Onychinus has much to answer for. You have much to answer for.”

Sylus hasn’t really been listening; it’s all senseless bureaucracy. “You have the wrong man,” he says, because whatever you’re doing— whatever stunt this is— a confession is sure to derail it. You know that, don’t you? You must be counting on it: holding that guilty breath of yours and hoping he’s smart enough to not be Sylus.

You don’t look worried in the slightest. You must have an awful lot of faith in him.

He studies you, waiting for a small, deliberate smile or a moment of weakness. Give him a sign, don’t give him a sign— it doesn’t matter; he’ll find one. His intentions must be clearer than yours, because you step up to the glass to face him.

Do it, your silence says, even though the rest of you is illegible. You want to look? Look.

His eye could light like a crimson fire— could burn the truth out of you— but it won’t. It’s a promise he made what feels like a lifetime ago, not long after you’d met: Your thoughts and desires are yours to give, not his to take.

Even here. Even now. He’s a man of his word, after all.

Impressed? You smile faintly, but there’s no warmth to it. “Captain,” you speak, your eyes not leaving his, “can you give us a minute? Please?”

“Of course,” the woman answers with a nod.

Sylus does not see her go. He hears it: the retreating rhythm of her shoes. He feels it: it’s just the two of you, alone again. Well, the two of you and that ‘hidden’ camera in the far corner of the room. “Whatever game this is,” he grins good-naturedly, his teeth gritted, “it stops. Now.”

“It’s not a game, Sylus. I told you to take this seriously.”

“What are you doing?” he snaps, and that good-natured grin didn’t last very long.

Your hands land on your hips. “My job.” When he scoffs, you continue: “Did you really think this would end any other way? After everything you’ve done?”

He laughs and it’s deeply sardonic. He’s no saint— to try to convince you he was would be a crime worthy of punishments far worse than this. But you know him. You know the line and what stands on each side of it: everything he’s done, yes, and everything he’s been made to take the fall for.

You wouldn’t do this to him. Would you? “You want to play pretend? Fine,” he hisses. He wants to wrap his Evol around that godforsaken camera and annihilate it. “You caught the big, bad boss of Onychinus— congratulations, sweetie. Sure. Let’s say that’s who I am. A man like that has power, right? So what’s to keep him— me— from escaping? Right now?”

“You’re not going to leave, Sylus. Wanna know why?”

He’s sure you’re going to tell him, and you do:

“Because you’re all talk. All smoke and mirrors. You want to go? Go. But there’s not a single person in this building who wouldn’t give their life to bring you back. Someone will catch up to you eventually, and what then?”

“I’ll have a lot of fun, I imagine.”

“You’ll do nothing,” you correct. “Because those people out there? They’re my friends. My family. You hurt them? You hurt me. Make all the threats you want, Sylus— we both know the truth.”

He towers over you, still, but it’s hard not to shrink at your next words:

“You don’t have it in you.”

Your eyes are sharp: whetted with resentment. Sylus is your reflection— your worthy opponent, always— but he just can’t look at you like that.

There’s a quiet hiss as you slide a finger over the cell’s control panel. White, neon light carves through the glass partition: two vertical lines that bleed upwards, either side of him, before bending to meet each-other. The glass between them shimmers, then fades.

Sylus stands on the precipice of the doorway, cool air crawling past him. He stares up at the camera, then down at you. Your arms have folded again as you watch him— a narrative of apathy.

“How about it, Sylus?” you ask bitterly. “Still think you can outrun fate?”

“No.” Not since it started wearing your face. Fate is you, putting a bullet in his heart, and him, waking up so you can do it over and over again. Maybe this is real. Maybe it isn’t. “What do you want from me?” he entreats softly, because you’ll get it— either way.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you sneer, and your hand shoots out, grasping a fistful of his shirt. You use it to drag him out of the cell, closer, lower, so that his face is mere inches from yours.

“No,” he repeats. “Say it.”

Your eyes burn like pyres: so dangerous, so beautiful, so suited to being the death of him. “I want you—” you begin, as they flit briefly to his lips— “to tell me…”

“What?”

“How you cheat at kitty cards.”

Oh. Oh.

You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?

Sure enough, you drop his shirt and burst into laughter— irrepressibly you again. The fire in your eyes has simmered down into something warm, safe, and comfortable, and— gods— you’re even crying. You’re doubled over, holding your stomach as though it hurts. You lift a hand to wipe your wet cheek. “Your face,” you get out between gasps, “oh, your face!”

Yours is not the only laughter, but it’s the only laughter Sylus hears.

“We so got you, Skye!” Tara’s vaguely familiar voice resounds from an intercom.

There’s some confusing static with it— more tittering voices— and Sylus suspects he’s found himself the star of your colleagues’ after-work entertainment. He puts his hands on his hips as he looks up at the camera. “Is the whole office—”

“Yeah,” you manage, wiping away another tear. “Figured it would be good for morale. Good practice, too.”

“Practice?”

“Mmhmm,” you confirm with a hum. You’ve apparently gotten a handle on the hilarity of the situation, because you approach him with something close to composure. Meditatively, you smooth down the fabric of his shirt. Straighten his collar. “For when we catch the real Sylus one day.”

He captures your wrists; that’s a lot of tenderness for someone who just tried to give him a heart attack. Maybe he’s a little too rough, because you pout at him in a way that makes him instantly soften his grip.

“You ok, Skye?” you enquire with an ironic smile and an adorable tilt of your head.

His thumbs are feathering over your pulse points, and slowly, he leans in to deliver a message, just for you: “If I say no, will you make it up to me?”

…

Sylus knows this is real.

His mouth is on yours and it’s relentless, desperate; you made him wait for it. How long has he been wanting to trap you against the nearest wall, just like this, so he can kiss you until he forgets just how cold you can be?

He’s been very patient. He didn’t roll his eyes or utter a word of complaint when you’d dragged him to join your colleagues for dinner. It was your victory party, your ‘I made you look like an idiot’ party, but he was his usual, charming self, and your friends all adored him for it. They’d spun him the tale of his ‘arrest’— the planning, the preparation, and your lightbulb moment:

“Hey, guys, have you ever thought about how Skye kinda looks like Sylus?”

Only he could understand how wickedly clever it was. His eyes had sought yours as he listened, lazy, content, and so obviously biding his time. You’d smiled at him. He’d smiled back.

And he’d stayed smiling, even after the party was over and you’d had to walk a slightly-tipsy Tara home. She’d refused a taxi, insisted Sylus escort her— oh, and you could come, too! He’d lent her his arm: humoured every squeeze and chuckled at each remark about the size of it. You’d had to swat her away, in the end.

“I’m just teasing, y’know?” she’d giggled as the three of you arrived at her front door. “Skye knows I’m just teasing. You’re such a sweetheart, Skye. Imagine! You— the leader of Onychinus!”

She’d laughed, much too loud for such a quiet street, and with a less-than-subtle wink, left the two of you alone. Which is how you’d ended up here, in an alley around the back of her building, because it was Sylus’s turn to drag you somewhere.

His attentions have moved lower; there’s a subtle clink as his fingers find the clasp of your shirt collar and he peels it back, exposing your neck. His lips leave yours, trailing down, down— past the line of your jaw and over the soft, vulnerable column of your throat. You gasp as he brushes over a sensitive spot, and you could swear you feel him smile.

He’s always been passionate, but this is a different fire, fuelled by something you can’t ignore, no matter how much you want to:

Relief.

“Sy,” you murmur breathlessly, your hand in his hair, tugging gently. “Sy, stop.”

“Mmm?” he acquiesces, voice sinfully low as the cold evening air takes his place kissing your neck. His eyes shine like blood spilt in the dead of night— lingering on you. He looks drunk.

You lift a hand to cup his face and run your thumb over his cheek. “I’ll never let anything happen to you, Sylus. You know that, right?”

Those dark eyes find clarity with your words, full of apprehension for just how naive you can be. The future will turn on you just as quickly as a wild animal someone boasts about having tamed, and aren’t you foolish, thinking you can control something like that?

Besides, that’s his job.

“I know,” he says like he’s supposed to— ever the martyr, following the script. He goes to nuzzle into you again, but your hand is still tight in his hair and he groans as you use it to pull him back.

“I mean it,” you reassert, forcing him to look at you. You don’t care that it’s ridiculous. You don’t care that fate is so hot on your heels that you have to keep running. You’re tired. He’s even more tired.

Isn’t it nice to stop and catch your breath?

Pretend you have time: His gaze is full of faith and oh, the world is going to enjoy punishing the two of you. “I know,” he insists, because this is the second time you’ve fooled him tonight. You feel his hand on your face and you let him kiss you— again, then again— so achingly slow, so arrogant.

The world can wait; he wants to punish you first.

“Do you really want to know—” he distracts as he finds that sensitive spot on your neck again— “how I cheat at kitty cards?”

The pad of his finger is chasing the path of his mouth; it tickles. You whine: “Tell me later, Sy.”

“Ok,” he breathes against you.

Later. There’ll be a later.

Won’t there?

#🖋rach is actually writing #sylus x reader #sylus #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus x mc #sylus x you #lads x reader #lads #lnds #l&ds

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naburi · 1 day

Text

I KNOW I STILL LOVE YOU

WONYOUNG X READER

TAGS: DEEPTHROAT, FINGER PLAY, FINGER SUCKING, MOUTHFUCK, COWGIRL, HARDFUCK

1.5K WORDS

Dealing with a break up is never easy, it’s been a few weeks now and you still find yourself staring at the ceiling wondering where it goes wrong. Alone in your apartment, these sad songs are lulling you to sleep. A wet sensation awakens you, a slim fingers touch, a pair of familiar eyes gazing up on you while your cock slowly disappears in her mouth.

The eyes that give you pitiful looks when she wants you to buy her ice cream, the same eyes that darts deadly stares when you do something that annoys her, the eyes that want to kill you when she sees you around with any female. This is also the same eyes that teared as she’s asking for a break up. “Won…,” you stuttered while calling the woman who is in between your legs.

Her nose hit your lower abdomen as she engulfed all of your shaft, her gag is not budging as the result of your endless mouthfuck when your libido’s are both high. Her empty gaze is full of eagerness, she herself doesn’t know what she wants or what she is trying to do by showing up in your apartment late at night. All the woman knows is you are with her for the rest of the night.

Wonyoung is lifting up her head, a low groan came out of you as you felt the tightness of her throat. The tight throat that she uses when she needs to apologize for her bratty behavior, the throat that she used to suck away your bad mood. She knows what her mouth can do thus she is shamelessly using it to her advantage, wondering what does that mouth want from you this time.

Her tongue touches the bottom of your shaft grazing upwards to your tip as she slowly lifts her head. Her tongue leaves multiple licks to your tips before raising her head completely. An awkward silence fills the air, you're waiting for her to say she is thinking about you, or she can say she’s missing you lately, or she wants you back and you will believe it because those are the words that you wanted to hear.

Slim fingers reach out your sacks, giving them a soft massages before reaching up to your shaft. A realization hit you, if this is all she wants, then you’ll give her all you got. You reached for Wonyoung's face, reminiscing every time you touched your girlfriend’s pretty face. You touched her face when you found her cute, or the times when you comfort her when she’s crying. You always touched her face when she’s your back then.

Your thumbs felt her lower lips, gently feeling her small soft lips just before sucking your thumb, swirling her tongue while it's inside your mouth, teasing you about what she wants you to do with your cock. You tried to remove your thumb so that she can finally do her work to your waiting cock. She felt your hand moving away thus holding your wrist with her two small hands to put it in place.

Your hand in front of her face, she looks at you while she swallows your middle finger and ring finger. You felt your two fingers get wet inside her mouth. She let off the fingers for her to gasp some air before sucking the two of them like it’s your cock. Wonyoung gives off a lewd facial expression as she’s clearly getting turned on by what she’s doing.

The woman continues on sucking off your fingers, she’s alternating on sucking down on them and swirling her tongue on the tips of them, she’s also sucking between your middle and ring finger to make sure your fingers are as wet as her slit. Wonyoung moves closer to you, now sitting in her long dress getting tangled up on her waist to reveal her white underwear that now looks transparent due to how wet she made herself.

Wonyoung felt the warmth of your cock closer to her clit. Knowing your girlfriend, she sits in front of your cock to tease you. “Mmmm,” the woman moans as she’s clearly enjoying sucking your fingers while she’s now grinding on top of your cock. Your thick cock cold as it feels the wetness of her undies.

You started to ram your two fingers to her mouth as you’re also getting aroused. You hold her head in your other hand as you put your fingers in and out of her tight mouth. The woman seems to enjoy her mouth getting finger fucked as her grinding on your cock gets aggressive as well. She now holds your hand firmly to purposefully put your fingers as deep in her throat.

Her two holes are getting too aroused. She removes your fingers in her mouth leaving it coated in her saliva. Wonyoung now focuses on the thick cock she’s riding. She moves aside her wet underwear to give way to the cock that she rides for a thousand times. You been together for years, living in your apartment, her hot and fragile body, this factors leads to her getting used like a fuck doll.

Your cock slides in inside her slit swiftly due to how wet Wonyoung is. She misses this sensation, your thick cock expanding her tight walls, she remembers all the curves and edges of your cock that makes her moan every time you pumped that cock inside. The woman holds on your shoulders to stabilize herself, taking your cock inside her.

“I miss you,” Wonyoung said sincerely, “I miss this cock of yours,” her lust also talked. As she continues to sway her lips, you remember how tight her slit is, no matter how deep you fuck her. Her slit keeps getting back her tightness. It feels like you're always taking her virginity.

The two of you exchanged moans as she kept her pace up. The woman rides your cock like she wants to milk the cum out of you. Her tightness is begging for you to fuck her in more ways, which you did. You hold her waist down while you forcefully move your hips up to fuck the tight body on top of you. This caught her by surprise and gave a loud moan.

Your two hands on the side of her waist can touch due to how skinny her waist is, her light body gets pushed up in the air as you keep pumping her upwards. The woman calls your name between her loud moans. Her hands are wandering around your torso trying to grab on to something to stabilize herself.

She managed to wrap her arms around your neck, her body now is laying on top of your chest, you come face to face with the woman that broke your heart. The woman who you fall in love with is laying on top of you like the old times. It became a habit for her to visit your apartment after class, doing nothing while in the arms of one another.

You wrap your arms unto her back to hold her in place. The only two things that you can hear right now is her slit getting fucked rapidly and her load cry of pleasure. Eyes closed as all she can do is to feel her slit getting drilled by your cock in an inhumane pace. The pain you felt in your break up turns into a wild assault into her slit.

Tears started to shed due to how stimulated her slit is, her body began to impulsive twitch, you know she’s near her second orgasm and you're more than glad to give it to her. Your two hands move to grab her tight buttocks to give her slit, fast and deep pounding, the sound of your flesh colliding is like music to your ears.

Wonyoung cries, her wrapped arms around your neck get tighter, her face sunk in your collarbone. You let her rest on top while she catches her breath, her orgasm pours down while your hard cock is still inside her. The woman mastering up some energy to form a sentence, “I know I love you.”

She kisses your lips, holding her lips on top of you for a while longer before the two of you start making out. You felt her hips moving up, making a loud pop as your cock got out of her wet tight slit. You finally see her giggle again, as she finds the sound her pussy made funny. You never thought that you would share a good laugh together.

Kisses and giggles, it seems like that are the only things the both of you can do for tonight. “I feel hungry,” she said in the middle of your conversation. You help each other get dressed while giving glances that you can’t believe they got back together.

“I want samyang”

“Me too, let’s get the spicy one”

“NOOOO”

Wonyoung is trying to use her cuteness to get a regular samyang.

“Look, let’s buy some snack to store our energy”

“Why do we need to store energy?” You asked in confusion.

Wonyoung gives you a naughty look while poking out her tongue.

#k pop smut #reader smut #wonyoung smut #wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x you

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mattslolita · 2 days

Note

please make a blurb of Bambi walking in on Chris and Matt on streaming but instead of running away Chris sits her on his lap and introduces her which makes the internet go wild

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧

"well come on and let me knoww, should i stay or should i go?"

the sound of your singing voice causes both chris and matt's heads to snap up upon hearing you, both sharing similar looks as you're on your phone and walking inside of matt's room, where chris was.

"if i go there will be troublee- oh dang wait, did i interrupt somethin'?" you squeak once you register their stares, biting your lip nervously as you look over at the computer, "are you guys streaming?"

"yeah, but you can stay if you want to, y/n," matt tells you, nodding in encouragement.

you look over at chris who's already grinning, patting his lap and motioning for you to come and have a seat. you giggle and happily bound over to the man, falling into his lap easily whilst his arms immediately come down to hold you by your waist and steady you.

"alright guys, we got a special guest joining the rest of stream," chris grins, peppering kisses along your neck causing you to giggle, "this is bambi, play nice."

"hi guys!" you say excitedly, blowing a kiss to the stream and giving them a small wave.

the comments were rolling in rapidly, everyone visibly going absolutely crazy over them — you knew chris and chris brothers streamed quite often, yet you'd always been a little shy and didn't want to interfere. but it would happen eventually, so why not now?

"oh gosh, please don't tell me you're about to do fortnite duos," you groaned, slumping slightly in chris's lap as your nose scrunched in distaste.

"you're jus' mad cause you're bad at fortnite," chris snorts, causing you to roll your eyes and cross your arms.

you narrowed your eyes and scanned the screen, looking at some of the comments. a triumphant giggle escapes your lips as you point at the screen. "see, mattsbabymomma agrees with me! play some new stuff!"

"how bout you shut that pretty little mouth an' watch the game?" chris jokes, giving you a knowing glance causing you to pout slightly.

"mhm, fine," you agree, a small smile on your lips, "y'all would get rightfully get demolished if we played call of duty, though..."

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asunflowerana · 3 days

Text

will you go to prom with me?

summary: prom is near, and your sweet, popular friend will do anything to have you as his date.

with: Gojo Satoru.

warnings: yandere behavior, blackmailing (not from satoru), slight blood mentions.

words: 1448.

a/n: i'm just gonna sit back and pretend this didn't give me chills. thinking of turning this into a series, but i'll hold myself from now haha

"Go to prom with me." It's not what you'd expect to hear on a Tuesday morning, right after a wearing History class. Even more so coming from the mouth of no other than Gojo Satoru, the coolest, most desired boy in school.

Yes, you've been friends with him for almost a year. And yes, you get on very well together, crack some side-jokes at classes, sometimes go out to grab some food, do homework at the library, and even stay up at night until sunrise on the phone, freaking out while studying for a math exam that none of you knew about it — or not paying attention, to be more honest.

So yeah, you're friends. But it's Gojo Satoru we're talking about. And Gojo Satoru is just way out of anyone's league.

You're simply dumbfounded.

"I—" You swallow hard, feeling like you just lost your memory and no longer know how to complete sentences. You're feeling a lot of things, honestly, the guy you've had so many daydreams with saying he wants to have you as his partner, and there you are, a pile of nerves trying to hide the hard, loud way your heart beats inside.

And it's not that you don't want to accept it. Heck, you want to say yes so badly, how many times did you catch yourself watching those sappy rom coms and wondering if you and the white-haired boy would make a fine couple like that. He's the whole package, and if those gorgeous blue eyes and jaw-dropping looks weren't enough, he's also so kind to you, that you can't help but develop a crush.

But as expected, he didn't catch only your attention, but the whole school as well. Kaya Nami, one of the troublemaker cheerleaders, is in the line and does everything she can to make sure nothing gets in her way.

"If I were you, I'd stay away from Satoru Gojo. You won't like having me as an enemy, believe me." She threatened you last Friday, right during PE class. Confused wasn't enough to describe how you felt, but you didn't say anything back to not cause drama, only nodding and watching her head off like nothing happened.

"...I'm sorry, Satoru, but I can't." And unfortunately, that warning was enough to hinder you from making the choice you wanted.

It goes without saying how astounded Gojo was by your answer, that probably being his first time ever being rejected. "What do you mean 'you can't'?" And then his tone dropped an octave, changing to something more seething. "Did someone ask you? You said yesterday to me that you didn't get invited."

"And you're right, I didn't get it." You try to reason, not liking the way he's bothered by your rejection. " it's just... I didn't think you wanted to go with me!" And you didn't lie, even though you said it more as an excuse.

"Well, now you know." He gets closer, almost making you hit your back at the locker behind you. His eyes say he didn't buy any of your excuses. "So, why can't you go? I mean, I know how overwhelming my beauty can be, but you're just as pretty, sweetheart."

His mood suddenly changes to the usual Gojo Satoru, the cheeky guy who enjoys flustering you for fun. Grazing your chin between his index and thumb, he looks deep at you. "I'll give you the best time you ever had. Just be my date."

It takes everything on you to not jump in his arms and let yourself get swept off your feet. Why does he have to make this so difficult? Taking a deep breath, you remember the headache you're gonna get if you don't make the right choice. "Satoru, I'd love to be your date, really. It's just, I think there's someone else that would make a better date than me."

He stares at you with an unreadable expression. You don't know if he got angrier or had enough of your pitiful answers, but you wish you could be able to read only a fraction of Satoru's mind, cause he's staring for too long at you, and you don't know what else to say other than stare back at him.

Finally, he steps back, diverting his gaze to a random spot for a moment before moving to look at you again. Sliding his hands inside his pants pockets, he seems to accept the situation, but you're still not sure of what you see. "I guess you're not changing your mind, huh? Then tell me, who's this 'perfect match' that you think would be better for me?" He questions with a hint of disdain, but he tries to hide it with a small side smile.

The girl appears in the scene before you can mention her name as if she was waiting for the right opportunity to pounce and make her move on him. By the way your shoulders slump and your eyes lower to the ground, he quickly assumes that she's the person you were talking about earlier and that for some reason, she's making you very uncomfortable. Not you nor Nami noticed the way Gojo glares at a blank spot. Thinking, he mindlessly accepts the blond girl's invitation to lunch, giving you a brief hug before going away. "If that's what you want." He whispers unexpectedly in your ear, offering you a final smile before letting himself be guided to the cafeteria.

You spend the rest of the day wanting to beat yourself for wasting the chance you had to go out with Satoru. You don't talk to him as much during the week, since Nami was making sure to grab every second of his free time at break. It didn't take too long to figure out that both of them would go to prom together, and even though you were the one who made that happen, it still stings to imagine them having a good time.

Prom day arrives, and in the end, no one invites you. It wasn't something completely unexpected, but to be honest, you were hoping that at least one of your friends would be kind enough to want you as a company just so you could all enjoy the "night to remember". Honestly, you didn't want to miss such an important event, and even though there was a chance that you'd make a fool of yourself, it's still your prom, and you have the right to make the most of it, with or without someone.

Kicking away the self-pity, you dressed up and got ready for the special night, wearing that beautiful gown that you remember once showing on Pinterest to Satoru, months before the event. Checking your purse one more time, you catch your phone to ask for a cab, when you hear three familiar knocks on your front door.

Opening your house, you come face to face with someone you never would've imagined seeing at that moment. There stood Gojo Satoru, with a black tuxedo that perfectly accentuates his body, a bouquet of pink camellias in his left hand, glasses off, and a beautiful lopsided smile.

"...Wow." The combo of his honest compliment, his lingering, fond gaze in your direction, and the fact that you made him momentarily speechless, makes your whole self overwhelmed with endearing sensations, especially your warm cheeks.

But that passes too quickly since you don't understand the sudden visit.

"S-Satoru? What are you doing here?" You didn't want this to be the first thing to say to him, but you're so confused, that you don't know what else to say. "I thought you were going out with Nami. Where is she?"

Awakening from the brief trance you provoked in him, the white-haired boy only increases his smile in a rather strange way. " Didn't you know? Mina got in an accident yesterday, she fell from the stairs and ended up breaking her leg."

One more time, you were taken by surprise. As for your friend, he doesn't sound as worried as you imagined he would be after giving this message, but he still makes a respectful pause after saying it.

Satoru also notices your reaction, observing the way you empathetic self got sad for that girl's situation. Little did you know that she got exactly what deserved. And if you looked more closely at your gift, instead of worrying yourself, you'd notice the blood stains around the wrapping paper, the remains of what your future partner did to prove his love.

To his luck, you're just too pure to realize what you don't need to. And for that, Satoru smiles, gazing at you with sparks again.

"So now, will you go to prom with me?"

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated 🦋

#{ w.jjk }#jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere gojo #yandere x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo #satoru x you #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n

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harksness · 3 days

Note

She’s giving rich milf in this episode 😌

Like rich milf who’s kids you babysit and oh no her husband is not here and she needs to destress

BRO I WAS THINKING SOMETHING SO SIMILAR?? I GOTTA POP OFF ABT THIS ONE AND GET IT OUTTA MY SYSTEM

I was imagining a kinda Stacy's Mom situation pls help me im in shambles thinking about it 😭😭😭😭 just all the hot situations with milf agatha ugh 😭😭😭

ok some nsfw under the cut

like... she's your best friends mom... and you make any excuse you can to be around her. oh no you need someone to mow the lawn?? yes ma'am anything for you. oh you need help cleaning the pool?? absolutely youll be there. you come over to hang out with her kid??? she's a little too flirty when youre alone. one day you come over when your friend isnt home and you know it, just to see what happens. she insists on inviting you inside. she gets you a snack, sits a little too close to you and starts playing with you hair before commenting on how pretty you are.... maybe things escalate and she fucks you on the counter. maybe you start coming over to stay the night with your friend more and more only to sneak off into her moms room at night. maybe she needs to keep her hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet while she fucks you, breathing hotly against your neck.

or babysitting for her akjjdjf you stay up with her when she gets home after the kids have gone to bed and let her vent to you. quickly shes sharing a little too much about how her husband doesnt satisfy her, esp with his long weekends away for work... and when she leans over and rests a hand on your thigh you lose your mind a little bit. you dont think it can be real when she confesses that shes had her eye on you for awhile. idk maybe all of her frustrations cause her to snap a lil bit and she starts greedily making out with you on the couch you fell asleep on waiting for her to get home. maybe she gets on her knees and begs to eat you out. shes so desperate for a taste, its all shes been able to think about since meeting you. shes so pent up and desperate, she needs to relieve some of her stress and youre just too tempting. youre so so so happy to help her. maybe it starts to become tradition for you to wait up for her, for the two of you to fuck on the couch when she gets home from work after a long day. imagine making out with her and snaking your hand up her pencil skirt... shes grabbing at you, legs spread wide as she moans and praises you and calls you her good girl.

idk maybe she starts giving you little gifts. an expensive necklace she thought would look pretty on you... a nice lingerie set she tells you to wear for her. a new laptop for college.

idk maybe she sorta becomes your sugar mommy

uggghhh pls im not gonna be able to stop thinking about this milf agatha is the source of all my horny thoughts

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness/reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness reader insert #harksness

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scribblesofagoonerr · 1 day

Text

flu season | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: monkey's sick with the flu and she refuses to admit it, putting her own life in jepordy.

pairings: reader!monkey x leah williamson x reader!buddy x arsenal wfc

You’ve always been too stubborn and being sick definitely wasn’t any different, today certainly wasn’t any different not when it was the first game of the new season.

You weren’t going to let the dumb flu stop you from playing football.

Even if your head was currently pounding and your body ached a ridiculous amount, of course you weren’t going to say anything about it.

“Is that yummy, bubba?” Leah had her attention focused on Buddy, who was making a sticky mess eating pancakes, “Look at your face. It’s a good job we’ve got time for a bath before we head out.” She laughed.

“Bath!” Buddy squealed, clapping her hands excitedly before shoving a piece of syrup-soaked pancake toward your mouth, “Monkey, ‘ou want some?”

You grimaced, shaking her head in disagreement, “No thanks, Buddy,” The sickly-sweet smell of maple syrup was too much to handle right now, “You can keep your pancakes to yourself.”

“Try!” Buddy was still determined to get you to eat some of it.

“No I don’t want to,” You murmured in disagreement.

“Bubba, Monkey doesn’t want to share your pancakes. You just eat them, okay?” Leah gently tells your favourite little buddy.

“Okay Mummy,” Buddy pouted, her little face looking sad and you hated being the one to disappoint her.

“You feeling okay, Monkey?” Leah asked, concern etched on her face as she’s watching you slumped over at the table and trying to force your own breakfast down your throat, “You don’t look that good, my girl.”

Lifting your head up from the table, you can already feel your eyes beginning to droop shut again, “Oh yeah, I’m… I’m fine,” You murmur, trying to project a confidence that you certainly don’t feel.

That’s a complete lie, you’re anything but fine right now.

Leah furrows her eyebrow in further concern, “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” You insisted, a half-hearted smile creeping onto your lips, as if that would convince the both of you.

Leah wasn’t buying it though apparently, “It’s okay to admit that you’re not feeling well,” Leah reminds you gently, walking over to you as a trick way to try and rest the back of her hand on your forehead but you flinch away from it, “If you’re feeling ill then it’s okay. You don’t need to pretend you’re fine, you know?”

“I’m fine,” You dodge her wavering hand and fake another smile as you know exactly what she’s trying to do, “See? Totally fine.”

“Monkey,” Leah sends you a weary look.

“I’m fine, Le!” You continue to insist and get up from the table, “I’m going to get ready anyways. First game of the season, exciting right?” It literally felt like you had mustered all the energy you had for that, but you were pretty convincing if you do say so yourself.

“Okay,” Leah exhales a sigh, shaking her head and allowing you to wander off upstairs to get ready, knowing you better than you think and knowing there was definitely something wrong with you.

The car ride to the training ground was a chance for Leah to try and get it out of you again as she wasn’t ready to drop it, “Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Monkey?” She pressed for an answer.

It didn’t take a genius to notice that you weren’t definitely not feeling your usual cheeky self nor did you have a pep in your step like normal. You were far less erratic when it came to things.

That was the first telltale sign that you weren’t feeling well at all.

The second, the visible beads of sweat coming radiating off your forehead.

“I told you I’m fine, Le. Stop fussing over me, will you?” The snap in your voice was unintentional, but the constant questions were grating on your nerves.

You’re fine, you are– It’s just the flu. It’s not a big deal.

Leah glanced over, her concern deepening, “I’m just looking out for you, Monkey. I just want to make sure that you’re not putting yourself in harm,” She paused as she pulled up at a set of traffic lights, “Think about your health, my girl.”

“Told you that I’m fine,” You argued, feeling defensive.

You weren’t missing out on the opportunity to play in the opening game, even if you did feel completely miserable.

“Are you really?” Leah’s voice softened, but the worry still remained.

“It’s just a cold, Leah. I can still play,” You tugged your hoodie over your head, ignoring the way the dizziness washed over you and you pretended to be fine.

The last thing you want right now is Leah fussing over you, or worse, pulling you out of the match.

You just had to convince her that you were fine but that was difficult when the blonde was practically watching over you like a hawk.

You’re not missing out on this one. No way!

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” Leah murmured, cautiously aware that you playing today wouldn’t be a good idea at all, “Why don’t you just give this one a miss? It’s just one game.”

“NO!” You exclaimed, not meaning to come across as abrupt as you said it, “I mean… I have to play, I have too– I’m not letting anyone down!”

“You wouldn’t be letting anybody down,” Leah stated, in a gentle but firm tone of voice, “Your health matters first, Monkey. Everybody will understand if you’re sick.”

“I’m not missing it and you can’t make me!” You shouted, making a beeline to escape the car once you arrived at the training grounds before Leah had even had a chance to stop her car, “So back off!”

“Monkey! Get back here, we’re not done with this conversation yet!” Leah shouted, enraged as she quickly turned the ignition off on the car, “Monkey!” She repeated.

You completely ignored the way your head pounded or how your limbs felt like they were weighted down with sand, along with the slight tremor in your hands as you made your way over to your best friend, Kyra who had joined during the summer transfer window and the two just hit it off straight away.

“What’s got Leah looking so annoyed?” The young Australian questioned, confused as she spotted the blonde looking less than pleased, “I mean she always looked slightly annoyed, but what did you do this time?” She joked.

“Nothing it doesn’t matter,” You murmured, trying to ignore the pounding in your head and force yourself to stay standing up.

“Alright, so are you ready for today?” Kyra’s loud voice caught you off guard, swinging her arm around your shoulder and you couldn’t help but stumble slightly, “First game of the season today!”

You winced at the loudness of her voice, “Ky, could you maybe not speak so loud?”

Kyra furrowed her eyebrow and looked up and down, “You don’t look so good there, mate,” She noted, “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” The lie rolled off your tongue, even though your body was screaming otherwise, “It’s just a little cold, Leah wants me to not play in today’s match but she’s overreacting about it.”

“Monkey!” Speaking of the devil and she shall appear, Leah walked over to you with Buddy in her arms, dressed in a full kit of this seasons’ jersey with a large puffer coat over the top to protect her from the unpredictable English weather, “We weren’t finished with our conversation.”

“Oh, really? I thought we were done,” You feigned ignorance to the conversation, trying to block her out since she would just keep trying to change your mind about playing in the game.

Not on your watch were you missing it.

Leah clicked her tongue and shook her head, “Unbelievable,” She muttered in disbelief as she placed Buddy down to toddle over to Lia when she had spotted her, “We’re not done talking about this.” She said in a firm tone of voice.

“Wonderful. I look forward to us finishing it,” You deadpanned, avoiding Leah’s watchful gaze as you tried to engage in conversation with Kyra, Alessia and Vic, “So, who’s excited for the game?” You tried to pretend to be excited, but your energy felt even further weak than before.

You weren’t missing this game, not at all.

You were lucky enough that Leah decided to make her own way to the stadium with Buddy in her car, it meant you were able to escape the hawkeye watch.

At least you were for now until you arrived at the Emirates stadium ahead of kick off.

By the time you arrived at the Emirates, you felt completely wiped out as you made your way inside and it took all your energy to even muster a smile and wave at the staff around.

“Are you alright, Monkey?” Alessia caught the way you stumbled getting off the bus and looked at you concerned.

“I’m alright,” You murmured quietly and tried to pretend like you were indeed feeling fine.

You were the complete opposite of “fine” right now.

“You don’t look fine,” Kyra chipped in, her own voice filled with concern as she draped her arm around you to help keep you standing up right, “You’re literally swaying right now.”

“I’m alright,” You repeated, still trying your best to convince yourself more than anyone else, “Please don’t say anything right now, I’ve literally had to convince Le I’m fine and if she hears me admit it then she’ll make me miss out on the game.”

The Australian girl continued to look further worried, “But you’re sick?” She questioned.

“Shh,” You were quick to place your hand over her mouth to stop her talking any further, “I’m fine, I’m completely fine, Ky.” You told her.

“Alright,” Kyra said, reluctantly agreeing with you as she kept her arm wrapped around your shoulder, “But you should probably avoid Leah if you’re trying to convince her because right now you look like you’re about to drop down right here.”

“Yeah,” You murmured in agreement, lacking the energy to be playful like usual.

Well that would have been easier to do if she weren’t standing there as part of the welcoming committee, although you couldn’t help but smile in awe when you see Buddy standing beside her and holding her hand out, copying Leah’s exact actions with the players.

Your favourite little buddy certainly was Leah’s mini me, looks and mannerisms completely.

“High five, Monkey!” Buddy chirped excitedly, vibrating with excitement as she bounced on her toes.

Kneeling down slightly, you winced as you felt the aching shoot through your body as you exchanged high fives’ with the 2 year old, before having the task of standing back up and trying to not stumble and go dizzy again.

“Monkey,” Leah greeted you with a kind smile, very much aware of the cameras’ on display that would no doubt be featured somewhere, “C’mere my girl.”

You knew exactly what she was doing when she enveloped you in a hug but there was no way to escape it and there was no way you could get out of this one.

Leah was quick to rest the back of her hand against your forehead and frown, “Monkey, you’re burning up,” She stated, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to play.” She said, her voice low to not gather too much attention around her.

“I’m fine,” You pulled away from her and flashed a fake smile before continuing to make your way in the direction of the pitch to go and inspect it, dragging Kyra along with you.

You had been incredibly excited about this opening game, it was special with thousands of fans flocking in to witness it.

“Look at the pitch,” You heard Katie’s loud voice as she walked past you, and it made you wince in pain.

Was it really a good idea to play? Sure, what’s the harm that can happen?

“Let’s go girls,” Kim led the team out onto the pitch to begin the warm-ups ahead of the game while the absent players were sitting on the bench and mingling between them.

You were sauntering out of the tunnel when Leah caught hold of your wrist, “Monkey,” She began while giving you a firm look, “You and I both know that you’re sick and playing in this game isn’t a good idea.” She stated, promptly.

“Who’s sick?” You attempted to play dumb, pulling your wrist out of her grasp and making your way onto the pitch to warm up with the rest of them, “Told you, I’m fine. See? I’m just peachy.”

Joining the team to run the drills, you pushed yourself to keep up even when your body begged you to slow down. You could feel the sweat trickling down your back and the light headedness was slowly starting to creep back in, but you refused to acknowledge it so you could continue to warm up.

You weren’t about to let anybody down today.

During every single drill, you could feel your body protesting more loudly but you had to keep the facade going, grinning through it all.

You weren’t about to be seen as weak, especially not today.

“Is she okay?” Beth questioned in concern, apparently she was able to see through your act, “She doesn’t seem like her usual self.” She added, noticing the slow pace you had while taking part in the drills with the rest of the team.

“She really doesn’t,” Viv piped in as Buddy sat on her lap and excitedly chatted her ear off.

You felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over you but you tried to shake your head and clear it– You’re fine, you just need to push through it.

Apparently, everyone else could see the facade that you were putting on.

“Monkey’s sick and she’s being stubborn apparently,” Leah exhaled a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she continued to keep a watchful eye on you, “I didn’t want her to play, it’s not a good idea, but of course she’s very much against the idea.”

“Of course she is,” Beth murmured, shaking her head, “Can’t you do anything about it though? She’ll listen– Maybe you could tell Jonas and he can make the decision to bench her.”

You tried to keep pushing on, keeping up the pace with your teammates but you’re slipping.

Ten minutes in and you can feel it– the fever, the exhaustion, the weight of your body dragging you down.

“Or there’s Kim,” Viv chimed in, gesturing to your Captain who’s not too far away from where you stood.

It happened so fast, one moment you were sprinting down the pitch and the next, your legs gave out way beneath you and you collapsed onto the grass, the cold ground grounding you and everything fading into darkness.

“I guess so– Oh my God, Monkey!” Leahs’ eyes were frantic as she bolted up from her seat, watching the moment that your legs gave out beneath you and sent you crashing to the ground.

“Monkey!” Lia is the nearest to Monkey as she panicked and dropped to her side before her eyes scanned around looking for Leah, “Leah! Over here!”

“Get the medics, now!” Kim shouted, the panic laced in her own voice.

“Monkey!” Leah rushed to your side as she crouched down beside you, “Monkey! Can you hear me?” You felt her strong arms lift you off the ground, “I’m here, I’m right here, my girl.”

The world slowly came back into focus and you could see Leah’s worried face staring right back at you, “I’m fine,” You mumbled, but it sounded weak even to you.

“Fine?” Leah couldn’t help but scoff and shake her head, “No, I told you that it was a bad idea, I knew you were sick and yet you didn’t listen. This is very much not fine!” Her voice still remained firm but she couldn’t help but be worried, watching you collapse was enough to make her panic.

“I don’t see the big deal, I’m fine,” You murmured groggily, attempting to push yourself back up, “I can still play, I just… I need to get my breath back.” You added.

The medic team ran to your side and began to do checks to make sure you’re fine, and you didn’t hit your head or anything too serious.

“No, no, absolutely not,” Leah told you, holding you firmly down, “I don’t think so, look I know you want to play but it’s not a good idea and I mean that this time, Monkey.” She insisted, her grip strong and reassuring.

“No, Leah! I can’t! The game–” You wanted to argue and tell her you’re fine again, that you can keep going but all that comes out is a weak cough.

Your head felt like it was on fire and the cold air against your skin sent a shiver through you.

“You’re not playing,” Leah repeated, firmly as she lifted you up into her arms and carried you back to the bench, “You’re burning up, forget about the game. You’re sick, and I’m letting you get any worse.”

“But Le,” You attempt to talk but lack any energy to try and argue your case, your body has already given up as you curled up on the bench, feeling small and defeated, “Okay.” You reluctantly gave in.

Leah pulled off her own coat and draped it over you like a blanket, “Sit here, don’t move,” She paused as she brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, “I’m going to grab you some water and have a word with Jonas.”

You hate this– You hate feeling weak, hate that you had to miss out. That you let yourself get to this point.

“I’m fine to–” You muttered, trying to sit back up and protest against the idea.

“No, don’t even think about it,” Leah interjected, shaking her head, “God, how can you still be this stubborn even when you’re sick? I want you to sit here and not move, alright?” She said, pointing her index finger in your face.

“Don’t worry Le, we’ll keep an eye on her,” Beth piped in from where she sat on the other side of you on the bench, “Go talk to Jonas, it’s fine.”

Leah flashed her blonde friend a grateful smile, “Thanks, Beth.” With that, she wandered off to find your coach and left you on the bench with Beth, Viv, Buddy.

“Monkey, ‘ou okay? You fell,” Buddy’s innocent eyes looked concerned as she tried to crawl over to sit on your lap, despite your curled up frame, “Hugs make things better!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, Buddy,” Viv was reluctant to let Buddy attempt to climb over you, understanding how weak you might be feeling right now along with the whole fact of Buddy not getting sick either.

“Ow,” Buddy pouted and it broke your heart to see her look so upset.

You let out a cough and it wracked your whole body, “I can… I can still play. I’m fine, see? It’s just a cough,” You tried to insist that you’re fine, while attempting to try and stand up again as you felt a sense of determination that you weren’t about to miss the game.

Beth saw straight through it and pushed you back down into your seat, “Hey, no. Take it easy, Monkey,” She paused, “You’re definitely not in any fit state to play today as much as you want to.”

“I don’t want to let anyone down though,” You murmured, feeling the disappointment for not being there for your teammates.

Beth gave you a sympathetic smile and wrapped her arm around you, “You’re not letting anybody down, kid. You can’t help being sick.”

“I feel like I am,” You quietly admitted.

It’s not too long before Leah walks back over to where you’re sitting, “Right, I’ve had a word with Jonas and he’s aware you're not able to play today,” She informed you, handing you a bottle of water to drink, “Here you go my girl, drink this please.” She instructed, taking a seat beside you on the bench in the free spot.

“I’m sorry,” You muttered a quiet apology, you had kind of been horrible today and all because you were so stubborn to admit when you were sick and not able to play.

“It’s okay my girl,” Leah pulled you into her side and brushed the hair away that was stuck to your forehead, “I just don’t want to see you get any worse, alright?”

“O… Okay,” You reluctantly gave in to her words and kept yourself tucked into her side.

“You’ll get better in no time, there’s plenty more matches this season,” Leah promised you, “But you would have really been putting yourself in harm's way if you had played today.” She added.

“I get it,” You murmured, hoping the lecture was over but you were definitely mistaken there.

“This is serious, Monkey,” Leah continued to tell you, “I know you might feel like I am nagging you, but this could have been so much worse than it was.” She said, reminding you the seriousness of how bad it could have been– She was right there.

“Do you?” Leah asked, raising an eyebrow,” Cos’ I really don’t think you do– Your decision was reckless and irresponsible, you could have hurt yourself. What could have happened if you hit your head when you collapsed?”

“I know, I know,” You bit your bottom lip and felt immense guilt for making everyone worry like they did, “I know it was a stupid decision and I’m sorry that I did that.”

Leah exhaled a sigh, sympathetic for you feeling so miserable, “Right, how about we head home now then?” She suggested, gesturing for you to try and stand up, but your body definitely felt too weak to even move right now.

Shaking your head, you stayed seated on the bench, “No… No, I don’t wanna go home– Can we stay and watch the match, please?” You asked.

“Monkey,” Leah began, debating the decision in her head, “You’re sick and you need to be at home resting, being here isn’t a good idea.”

“It’s the first game of the season– It’s important,” You plead, you didn’t want to miss it even if you were feeling like you had literally been run over by a double decker bus, “Please?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Leah furrowed her eyebrow and shook her head, “You’ll feel better if you’re at home. You can watch the game at home, we can probably catch most of it on telly.”

“I don’ wanna go,” Buddy insisted, managing to successfully climb onto Beth’s lap and tuck herself against her, “Wan’ stay, Mummy!”

“There’s no harm in staying to watch, Le,” Beth spoke up as she gave her opinion, “Monkey’s hardly able to move right now and if worse comes to the worst, she can just curl up and sleep here on.” She joked, gesturing to the way you had all but tucked yourself into Leah’s side and your eyes were drooping shut.

“Stay,” Buddy repeated.

Leah exhaled a sigh and gave in, “Fine, alright, but as soon as it finishes, we’re going home,” She paused to look at you, “You need to rest and get better.”

“Alright,” You smiled faintly, despite the overall exhaustion you felt.

“Why were you so insistent to play today when you feel so terrible, huh?” Leah kept her arm wrapped securely around you, “You scared me when you collapsed in the way that you did.”

“I’m sorry, I thought I could push through it and I would be fine,” You continued to lean into her, too exhausted to put up the fight anymore as your body wracked with coughs again, “I didn’t want to let the team down. I didn’t want to miss out.” You mumbled, your words slurring together as the fever pulled you deeper into exhaustion.

Leah exhaled a sigh and shook her head, running her hand through the strands of your hair, “You can’t help anyone when you’re like this, my girl,” She told you, “Next time, listen to me, yeah? I’ve always got your best interest at heart, delightful teenage attitude and all.” She joked.

“What fun is that though,” Sick or not, you can't help but be your usual cheeky self as you smirked at the blonde, “God, my body aches– I feel horrible.” You admitted out loud.

“And that’s you finally admitting you're sick, I’m shocked,” Leah joked, ruffling your hair and you didn’t even have the energy to growl or protest like usual, “Something tells me this is gonna hit you hard this week, eh?” She murmured, making the mental note to drop a text to Jordan to arrange the alternative option for Buddy to stay with her to avoid ending up with both of them sick.

#monkey #buddy #woso x reader #scribblesofagoonerr #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #arsenal x reader #leah williamson x reader #arsenal women x reader #double the trouble fic #beth mead x reader #vivianne miedema x reader

196 notes · View notes

strawberriesandstories · 2 days

Text

Touch <3

Summary: James has always been touchy until oneday…he’s not

w/c: 1.3k

warnings: nothing much! Just fluff xx

(THIS IS NOT PROOF READ SO BEWARE)

a/n: this is my first story! It’s pretty shit and I wrote it while half asleep in a plane but oh well!

James had always been touchy. Y/n was used to it, though when they first became friends in year one, it took her off guard. She wasn't accustomed to this type of physical affection. Her family weren't really huggers… they weren't really anything, to be honest.

James had always been touchy which is why on the first day of sixth year, y/n was utterly confused. They had met up at the platform as usual, but James made no move to hug her or even say hello.

what?

he looked at her for a second, there was something in his eyes, something that hadn’t been there before…it was almost like a silent plea for something…something y/n didn’t have.

“Hey Jamie…?” Y/n said akwardly, scratching her head not quite knowing what to do.

He was always the first one to say anything

He was always the first one who made the move

He was always the first one to do anything really.

“Hey” he murmured back making no effort to keep the conversation going. Anxiety bubbled in her chest as she tried to think what had possibly gone south between them. When fifth year ended everything was fine, but the more y/n thought about it the more she remembered the little things.

Like how he hadn’t invited her over to his house that summer like normal…or how when they said goodbye he had squeezed her a little less tighter than normal. Maybe she was just overthinking it, maybe everything was fine.

“You look different”

Finally

“Oh-I uh changed my hair”

It was true though she had gotten into a fight with her mother and decided the best act of revenge was bangs and washed out cherry red hair dye.

“Cool…it suits you” something twitched at the corner of his mouth and he gave her a saddish sort of grin

He took a step close before stopping and sighing again

“Do you remember my thing for Lily-“

“Bloody hell mate we’re gonna miss the train”

a loud voice broke through interrupting whatever he was trying to say as Sirius sauntered over to them with Remus close behind.

“What are you lot doing? I thought we told you to meet up on the train?” Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius’s badgering and stepped away from him.

“Well we’re all here now so let’s just get on”

and with that they boarded the train and found their regular cabin.

Remus and Sirius sat together as always and James took his dedicated seat next to her. They sat together in silence and listened to Sirius have a one sided argument with Remus over ABBA and QUEEN.

“Hey…uh wanna talk?” James leaned in and whispered in her ear, his breath was hot, the feeling sent a shudder down her spine as she nodded. He gave her a small smile and left the room.

Remus looked at her with an eyebrow raised before turning to Sirius, a wordless conversation seemed to flow between them before Remus spoke up.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He paused before going on.

“I don’t think you’ll like the conversation”

“Oh shut up moony she’ll be fine, just let her go” Sirius barked slapping Remus on the shoulder.

She furrowed her eyebrows confused, why was everyone being so cynical today?

“Huh? What do you mean…uh you know what never mind” she huffed and left to follow James.

“Hey love” he was leaning against one of the empty cabin doors in the quieter section of the train. Everything about him screamed aloof or non-chalant (BAKA) it was so un-James like.

“Your acting kinda weird is everything okay?”

y/n asked worriedly and mused with her hair

Maybe she was overthinking it, maybe everything fines and she’s just being silly

“Oh uh” he laughed awkwardly and re-adjusted himself so he stood upright in front of y/n shuffling his feet slightly.

“I-uh…you didn’t come to the manor this holidays”

She stiffened

“You didn’t invite me”

“…oh right-uh I didn’t think I needed…to”

His ran a finger through his dark curls and sighed

“This is hard-why is this so hard? I mean it was so easy with Lily”

“What about lily? James whats actually going on?”

“God-I” he sighed and took a step closer to the girl semi-trapping her against the compartment door.

“Remember when I liked lily?”

Y/n rolled her eyes who could forget? It was all day everyday, all he would ever do was talk and talk about her…she loved lily they were close friends but everytime he mentioned her she felt this silent ache in her chest. Y/n just assumed it was unease with the fact lily didn’t like him back, she was obviated just worried about James’s unrequited feelings…probably.

When she didn’t answer he went on.

“It was easier back then…I liked her a lot but it’s-it’s different now I guess, I mean my dramatic gestures never seemed to work and now…now I don’t know what to do”

So this was why he was acting weird? He was worried about Lily? God and here she thought it was about her.

“If your worried lily doesn’t like you why don’t you talk to Mary for advice? They share a bunk in our dorm”

He paused his eyes softening, he reached up a hand and tucked a strand of loose hair behind y/n’s ear.

“No-Lily and I…well im over her, I talked to her about it late last term and she-mentioned how my dramatic gestures and clingy-ness was off putting”

No it wasn’t, it was cute . Y/n had always had a soft spot for stuff like that she never really understood why Lily didn’t like it.

“So who is it then? Who’s the lucky girl” he paused again, he cupped her face with his hands before quickly dropping them and taking a step back.

“Do you think I’m too clingy?” It was a genuine question, he was being serious. Why was he acting so strange?

“No-but everyone girls different, James you dodged the question, who?”

…

“James-“

“You-of course it’s you! I mean we’ve been friends for years so I never really saw you like that but then-god I don’t know something changed…and I” he stopped before looking down and taking a step back

“I talked to lily y’know-it was stupid but I wanted advice and she told me I was always to ‘expressive’ and blunt-I didn’t wanna mess it up with you…I don’t wanna ruin anything we could have, I didn’t want to be clingy-like normal I guess so-…”

He trailed off and let out a defeated sounding breath.

“Sirius and Remus know…they think it’s a bad idea purely based on the fact that it could ruin our group”

Oh so that explains it

“I dont…think it’s that bad of an idea-maybe” y/n’s cheeks flushed and she all of a sudden felt very hot.

“And I don’t think I’ve ever really felt that your too…clingy”

God this was embarrassing

“Oh-well now I look kinda stupid..don’t I” he smiled-a real one this time not a smirk or fake grin and let out a loud laugh.

“Maybe” she grinned and took a step towards him, his eyes twinkled as he slung an arm around her positively delighted.

“So-does that mean I can make embarrassing gestures of my love for the world to see?”

“Nope-“

“But I thought you liked my dramatic-ness!” He let out a mock cry and pouted.

“No-I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that” she giggled

“Oh-Why must you wound me?”

146 notes · View notes

sleepinthrumyalarms · 2 days

Note

Victoria gives me absurd powerbottom vibes tbh… making you kneel before her and lick at her pretty cunt before she decides when she’s done 😁😁

abso-fuckin-lutely

it's her favourite, really. her favourite spare time activity, her stress reliever — and she's got a lot of that. who needs coffee when you're here to make sure she has the best morning possible? so eager, too.

she once made you eat her out during dinner, and the taste of sautéed eggplant on her tongue mixed with the feeling of yours between her legs was absolutely delectable (you made her spill her wine on the brand new white tablecloth and got dicked down for it right on the table, too).

so, safe to say she gets slightly greedy about it.

thing is, she doesn’t like it when your mouth and her pussy part. it’s a union that, in her eyes, should be unbreakable. so no sticking your tongue out to flick at her clit, no irregular flat licks you try to sneak a teasing word in between. none of that. she needs you to commit to it, to devour her.

she wants to feel all of it — lips, teeth, tongue, so you better work it till your jaw is so sore you can’t even thank her properly when her slick gushes down your chin.

“that’s it, sweet thing. just like that,” victoria murmurs as she watches you wrap your mouth around her cunt.

“s’pretty, vic,” you murmur, voice hoarse. “such a pretty pussy. you’re so—“

she doesn’t let you finish. a high-heeled foot pushes at the back of your head, guiding you right where she wants you.

"shh. less talking, more licking," comes the command she's so used to giving, her voice as sharp as the heel digging into your spine. "i didn't bring you here to blab. work it.”

you start slow, just as she likes it, your tongue tracing the length of her, from her entrance to her clit. you feel her shiver, her breath hitching slightly. encouraged, you continue, applying more pressure, more urgency.

"fuck," she breathes, her eyes fluttering closed as she lets out a soft moan. "pull away again and i'm tying you down and riding your face till you choke. don't fucking test me."

a very, very tempting punishment — but you don't exactly plan on disobeying.

you can't. not when she tastes so good, not when she feels so right.

working under her for the fbsa is a whole new experience — completely and utterly unproductive for instance.

it’s also the reason victoria opts for pencil skirts instead of her beloved pantsuits these days.

the only sounds interrupting the silence in her office are the gentle taps of her fingers against the screen and the wet softness of your plush mouth working for your ‘employee of the month’ title.

“hm,” victoria frowns at the numbers on her tablet, lifting it closer to her face. “now this can’t be right.”

she leans forward in her chair to get a better look, her free hand sliding under her desk, fingers wrapping in your hair to tug you off her – a string of saliva and juices connects your bottom lip to her leaking cunt. she doesn’t bother to admire the view — she has much more important matters to attend to.

you watch her brown eyes flicker through the report, a frown on her burgundy lips – something you'll have to work harder to get rid of. her hand still in your hair, manicured nails scratching at your scalp softly, victoria rechecks the numbers once more before scoffing.

“of course. i knew i couldn’t trust them with the percentage counting. honestly—“

her hand pushes at the back of your head firmly, and you hungrily slurp at the juices that have trickled between her puffy folds in the few moments you were separated from her warmth.

“—does anybody in this building know how to do their fucking job?”

you make a sound that sounds painfully reminiscent of a broken whimper, and victoria huffs out a laugh through her nostrils. brushes her hand up your scalp to move some stray strands from your face.

"no-no. it’s never you," she says, her voice a gentle purr as she strokes your hair. "you're doing just fine. it's everyone else who's the problem."

she leans back in her chair, her eyes never leaving the tablet as she continues to scroll through the numbers.

"i swear, if i have to redo the whole thing myself," she mutters, her voice laced with frustration. "it's like they're all just waiting for me to bail them out."

she looks down at you, smiling softly, "but you're not like that, are you?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "you're my good girl. my little problem-solver."

you moan in response, the vibrations sending a shiver through her. she bites her lip, her grip on your hair tightening.

"gonna make my day so much better, aren't you?"

victoria is very much aware the degree of your obedience varies from day to day, so you bet your pretty ass she's investing in a collar. no pet play— vicky isn’t into that, so don’t expect her name and phone number engraved on it, but it is a rather fancy thing nonetheless. the dark leather feels genuine and it smells exactly the way the inside of her mercedes does.

the leash attached to the collar gives victoria all the reign she could possibly have. at this point she doesn’t even let you breathe. you pull away? bad idea. she tugs you right back in, the slobbering mess of your face on her perfect puffy cunt the only view she’ll be having.

she might even give an idle tug or two just to hear you groan into her wetness, tongue-tied deep inside of her, and the pleasure from the vibration has her head tilting back, her thick painted lips parting with a soft sigh.

and when she cums — you don’t even want to pull away at that point, so pussy drunk she has to forcefully tear you away, lips swollen and eyes glossed over.

#victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman #the boys #the boys x reader #victoria neuman smut #the boys imagine

138 notes · View notes

stxrvel · 2 days

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remorse (5)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader... or not? content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, flashback, a lot of remorse, fights, stubborn people, lack of communication, angst. a/n. its finally here. i haven't re read this chapter bc im almost falling asleep and i have to work tomorrow, but i'll give this one another look in the weekend. a friend of mine helped me with the traduction bc i'm really really burnt out rn. also, chapters names changed!! i hope you guys like this one! see you on the next one🫶🏻

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“Oppa…”

Yoongi raised his head, his body leaning toward the piano acknowledging your presence in the room, and you could tell how he was physically struggling to move away from the instrument. Under his watchful gaze, you walked in his direction shuffling your feet, with a pitiful expression and every intention of openly complaining to one of the elders in your group of friends. But you relaxed your expression when you were a few steps away, recognizing his notebook on the piano lid and the trail of ink between his fingers at a safe distance from the keys.

His laughter confused you, and when you looked up, his lips were curved into a pretty smile. It was annoying. He was only two years older than you.

“What happened now?”

You remembered that you had come with a purpose, but your mind, as evasive and suggestible as ever, found more interest in what your eyes had caught.

“The usual,” you barely commented, moving to sit on your legs in front of Yoongi. “Were you writing?”

Yoongi glanced over to find his notebook, his shoulders shaking in a sigh because he knew he wouldn't be able to escape this conversation now that you had discovered him.

“Something like that…”

“Can I see it?”

“It's nothing decent. I don't think it's prudent.”

You pressed your lips together at his response, letting your shoulders droop, disappointed. But it was what you had expected; after all, Yoongi was quite secretive about his notebook, and it was rare for him to let you get this close and know so much about him. Even though you had probably known each other since you learned to swim and multiply, and surely knew more skeletons in his closet than he would like to admit, Yoongi still had a reluctance to show you or anyonw his writings. You had to catch him at a very relaxed moment.

So you set aside your emotions, not allowing Yoongi to respond as you pouted, and crossed your arms while turning your head away.

“Taehyung and Jungkook got so competitive on the court that they kicked us all out,” you frowned, remembering how the two had rushed past you and stolen the ball in the blink of an eye, moving so quickly and with cheeky laughter that you barely understood what was happening until you saw them tussling with the ball in front of the scoring area.

They were already in extracurricular hours, and although everyone had subjects to study and delve into, they decided to take a moment to take advantage of the fact that the school court would be empty and play for a while. Jin and Namjoon had left the game after two quarters because they simply couldn't keep up, and since one was in your group with Jimin and the other with the two kings of competition that day, they decided to kick them out and leave them as referees along with Hobi, who was the initial one.

Surprisingly, Yoongi also didn’t attend the game or his extracurricular class, choosing to get lost in the music room, taking advantage of the fact that it was empty that day because classes ended early.

“I don’t understand why they have to ruin everyone’s fun.”

Your little thirteen-year-old self, ignorant of many aspects of life, could only cross her arms and complain. Yoongi smiled, his two extra years of age giving him an understanding that perhaps you didn’t have access to, because it was inconceivable to you that such a sacrilege could be considered funny. Basketball hours were sacred!

“They're just messing around.”

“Oppa, you should've seen how they were pushing each other,” you shook your head, refusing to believe that Yoongi really wanted to defend them. “If you had been there, you could've stopped them.”

“And Jin?”

“He was laughing with them.”

“Ah,” Yoongi turned his head. “So the second best option was me?”

You shrugged. “Well, I thought I could convince you to go to the court, but…”

“But…?” Yoongi rested a hand on the bench, leaning in to see you on the floor.

“Maybe it’s more fun to listen to you play the piano.”

You smiled brightly, intertwining your fingers while Yoongi wore a half-smile. Without responding, he straightened up again, adopting the posture he had when you saw him through the glass of the door, before you interrupted his concentration. His fingers danced in the air for a few seconds, touching the notes in his head, recalling sound after sound, until the pressure on them gave way to a melody unknown to you.

It had to be a new piece, a new composition in his notebook. Yoongi played, calm and serene, focused and absorbed, letting the sound flow as if it came directly from nature.

Seeing Yoongi like this was… a strange event. Later, as time passed, you would think it was unbearable to have to see him everywhere, to hear his name around every corner, but at that moment you were lost in him, absorbing the sounds of his mind that his fingers materialized on the piano, allowing yourself to be carried away by the tide of his emotions, the way he conveyed so many words with his touches. The fast and slow notes, the change of tempo, all so meticulously created and organized to send a message, to describe an emotion, to paint a scene.

Yoongi was scared. Perhaps nervous, even. When he finished his piece, you could only look at him in awe, his shoulders moving a little faster due to the intensity with which he finished, keeping his head down, as if processing what he had just done. His fear was palpable, his hopelessness and unease.

“Oppa?”

“I don’t know…” he paused, dropping the lid over the keys and taking a calmer posture. “I don’t know if I’ll do the right thing when I graduate.”

“Why?” your brow furrowed, and you leaned forward in concern. “You’ve always talked about it. And you have a lot of talent, oppa, I know you’ll make it.”

Yoongi gave a nearly pained smile, as if he understood something you had no idea about.

“Jin is going to medical school.”

“I know. But it’s what he’s passionate about,” you moved closer to your friend, trying to give him some of the support he always gave you. “Isn’t music what you’re passionate about?”

The black-haired boy frowned. The answer was clear in his eyes, in the way he played the piano until he was breathless, but the gestures of his doubts were there too: when his fingers trembled with anxiety, his eyes gaining more shine as the seconds passed.

“Oppa,” you called, trying to break the silence, trying to prevent his thoughts from eating him alive. “If it’s what you love, you’ll succeed. I’m sure of that.”

You saw how the haze in his eyes disappeared, his features relaxing at least a little.

“I probably only have your support. I’ll have to rely on that.”

His small smile constricted your heart. In that moment, you didn’t know what you could do to show him that it was enough, but you were also unaware of the reality that his words held. It was probably due to your age, the age difference with Yoongi, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he would never be completely satisfied with that. You wondered if it was about you, just for a second, recalling the way he smiled when some of the other boys gave him words of encouragement.

Maybe he was just more vulnerable with you than with the others, but a thirteen-year-old's reasoning didn't go that far.

With your foolish conclusion, you came home that day with a heavy heart.

Speaking of loose ends and unresolved issues, there were some specific people who deserved to take home the award and the crown for the most intrigue of the century. Because when you entered Choi Dohyun's office, with Seojun and Yuna on either side, even knowing that there were things still pending answers and others you could barely understand, the last thing you expected was for those you weren’t even aware of to suddenly materialize, like a kick to the stomach.

But keeping your head high and your composure was something you had lacked the last time, and thus, against all odds, your face showed no emotion when you caught a glimpse of Min Yoongi storming out of the office looking angry, not even when his eyes moved towards your figure and his wires crossed for a millisecond, betraying his movements. The sound of his shoes against the floor didn’t even distract you, keeping your gaze fixed on the man who appeared behind the door, with a huge smile on his face and eyes that screamed that signing this contract might take more from you than it would give.

Min Yoongi flanked you, a nearly imperceptible gasp of surprise escaping him as you passed by his side, not even giving him a glance of acknowledgment over your shoulder, as if he were less than a mere insignificant dust particle, and he collected himself as best he could to keep walking, ignoring the astonished looks your companions shot him.

You flashed the biggest smile, a feeling of anger settling deep in your stomach, and you shook hands with Choi Dohyun, who was cheerfully introducing himself with a voice an octave higher than usual.

You didn’t miss the way he shot a glance down the hallway, where Min Yoongi should have been disappearing, and the bitter sensation in your throat intensified.

“Well, don’t take it the wrong way, I’m very happy because we finally have this,” Yuna beamed, raising the envelope with the contract as if it were her most cherished possession, just as they exited the large publishing house and the cool afternoon air greeted them, “but did we just see the damn Min Yoongi leave that office?”

You simply sighed, feeling the tension radiate from your brother’s body, who hadn’t separated from you since the moment you were ushered away by Choi Dohyun's secretary.

“That was… wow. I don’t even have words.”

Seojun rolled his eyes, and you had to suppress the urge to pinch his side when Yuna turned to look at you with the envelope in her hands while you all waited to see your father’s blue car navigate the avenue.

“Do you think… this means we’ll have more opportunities to meet the seven gods of Olympus than most people?”

Her smile made you feel nauseous, but out of her ignorance, you could do nothing but try to mimic it. Seojun, on the other hand, was making nothing but irritated faces.

“Maybe, if you work harder.”

Yuna let out another squeal of excitement, and you took a deep breath when she turned around to look at the cars again. Seojun wrapped his arm around yours, glaring at anyone who came too close, even by accident.

Your friend kept murmuring in disbelief, and all you could think was that she was probably holding in her hands the worst decision you had ever made.

Whatever the reason for your encounter with Min Yoongi, you had deduced that your bad luck came down to being out of the house. Putting a foot outside the holy altar of your home was proving lethal for your emotional stability, so you spent the rest of the day locked up, managing your social media and overseeing deliveries.

Dohyun had agreed that the publishing house would handle the entire printing, packaging, and shipping process of the books, as purchases were only growing with each passing day. His real offer was to leave you with nothing to do but continue planning your stories, because at that moment, you were a goldmine for him.

“Unbelievable! Jung Hoseok revealed the truth behind the distancing of the Korean entertainment dynasty.”

The voice coming from Yuna’s phone caught your attention. You lifted your head from the blank document on your computer screen, glancing sideways at your friend, who was comfortably sprawled on your bed with a furrowed brow and a conflicted expression, as intrigued as she was worried about what she had just heard.

“These past few days have been tough for the kings of entertainment, as the last public sighting of them was over a week ago when Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Jeon Jungkook left the businessman’s building and enthusiastically greeted all their fans. As good followers, we know it’s too strange not to see them often, and the last time this happened was when Jung Hoseok had the accident that prevented him from continuing to play professional tennis.”

Yuna looked intensely focused, biting her nail and awaiting the climax of the video. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but you couldn’t deny you were a bit curious about what news they would share, knowing that the boys weren’t ones to openly discuss their private matters.

“With their reputations at stake and rumors flying back and forth [how exaggerated], Jung Hoseok had to come out to clarify the situation. His official statement, which was informally published on the famous app Whotalks, said: ‘We’re all fine. Please be patient with us.’ Whether his statement implies misunderstandings among friends that are in the process of being resolved or if we should wait for an official statement from their leader, we’re not sure. But it’s concerning the—”

“Why would they make such a big deal about this if they aren’t even sure what that post implies?”

Yuna paused the video, giving you a confused look, surely thinking you were immersed in whatever you were doing on the computer (nothing), too busy to pay attention to these “insignificances,” as you used to say.

“Y/N, you really have no idea of the magnitude of power these men hold over the entertainment industry. With a snap of their fingers, they could shake everything.”

“And why did they get so much power?”

“They earned it. Through their hard work.”

You couldn’t help the huff that escaped you. You didn’t find what Yuna had said funny because it was true; they had worked incredibly hard to achieve what they had at that moment. At least you knew that their beginnings had been humble. But it annoyed you, inevitably, because you couldn’t control the resentment shaking in your chest. Healing my ass, you hadn’t forgotten anything from the last few years, no matter how much you wanted to convince yourself otherwise. So much effort to force them out of your life, only for them to find a way to disrupt it again in a week as if they had some right.

What a bunch of audacious—

“Oh. A message came in.”

Your friend sat up on the bed, and you sent her a confused look.

“Messages come in every second, Yuna.”

“It’s from a verified account.”

Without lifting her gaze in your direction, you froze in your chair.

“Oh—”

Oh no.

“No fucking way—” Yuna stood up in the bed, exclaiming loudly: “Kim Taehyung is in your DM's!”

“Tell him to go to hell.”

“¿¿Huh??”

The words slipped out before you could think twice. From the tense way the words left your mouth, you could tell Yuna was torn between asking more or simply contradicting you. Her eyes moved from the screen to your face, her fingers moving almost imperceptibly over the device.

“You know, every time you make it harder to understand what’s going on with these people.”

Finally, she locked her phone and dropped it on one of your pillows. You had never been a fan; your friend understood that. She had never questioned you about it… except for that random afternoon in this same room when she asked too many questions, but after the encounter with Yoongi that afternoon, you wondered what moment or what would need to happen for her to stop believing that it was just a matter of taste differences and for you to have to tell her the truth.

Before everything that happened a week ago, you had never considered it necessary to talk about it because so much time had passed, and you believed you were at a point where things related to them really didn’t affect you anymore, nor would you ever have to interact with them again to warrant giving your friend a statement. But of course, things were different now, and emotions would continue to clash with one another, and you hated to think that their attitudes meant they were trying to return to your life, or at least get involved to some extent, which would imply, strongly, that you would have to tell Yuna what had happened.

“Have you ever thought that you might have run into him if you had gone to the convention?”

“Yeah...” you sighed in defeat. It was impossible not to consider that alternative, how things might have turned out. If you would still have this overwhelming resentment in your chest or if they would have carved their way back into your heart once more.

The foolish you at eighteen would be thrilled right now.

“And even with that doubt... don’t you have even a little curiosity about what he says?”

You preferred not to, to be honest. You would rather just rip out every memory from your head with tweezers to be able to return to a semi-normal life, where your biggest worry should be saving enough for a trip and not when those damn lunatics were going to leave you alone.

But you found yourself stretching out your arm to take the phone when Yuna handed it to you, a grimace of insecurity settling on your face.

“I’m not going to ask,” Yuna spoke, and you sent her a glance just as she turned on the bed and took her own phone to continue watching her celebrity gossip. “I’m not going to pressure you.”

You didn’t respond. You lowered your gaze to the device in your hands, feeling a mix of relief and bitterness. Well, at least she had given you the opportunity to worry about that later.

The screen lit up, and there it was. A new message from Kim Taehyung.

thv Hi. It’s Jimin.

Huh?

You ?

The read notification arrived almost instantly after you replied. With your brow furrowed, you watched the bubble appear from his side of the chat.

thv I’m sorry for writing from Tae’s account, but you blocked me

Ah. Ah. Right.

After receiving the notification that Jungkook had followed you a few days ago, and especially because he had shown up at your work out of nowhere short after that, you had blocked everyone else with an Instagram account, just to be safe.

A small detail.

You Oh, yeah

That Jimin was trying to contact you, considering the context of the whole situation, wasn’t too outrageous. When you studied together, apart from being the first to start teasing others and fostering friendly banter, he was also the first to try to fix things because he couldn’t stand hostile and tense environments. It’s not that you thought he had a chance to fix anything now, but maybe you were a little interested in what he had to say. After several days, it was inevitable not to feel curious, right?

After the bubble appeared and disappeared several times, the message finally arrived.

thv Do you think we could talk in person?

You No.

thv I promise it'll just be me

You No.

thv It can be anywhere you choose

You I said no If you have something to say, write it If you don’t have anything interesting to say, then I’m going to block this account too

thv No Wait Okay.

The sound of Yuna’s phone had faded into the background of your mind. You kept your eyes on the typing bubble, fearing that maybe Jimin would change his mind and decide not to respond to the questions swirling in your head. Now that he was being so persistent, you were more eager to know. I mean, it was the least you deserved, right? Some kind of answer, some kind of reason, a why. Something to explain everything, because the root of that growing resentment in your chest was due to their lack of communication, to their ease in discarding you like a worthless piece of paper, not even caring if the air swept you away or the rain destroyed you.

They owed you something, and you had the right to an answer. You could have moved on, yes; you thought you had, yes; living with resentment in your heart affected a person’s life, yes... but God would be the only living being on earth and in the universe who wouldn’t feel even a pinch of pain for everything that had happened. For the inexplicable disappearance, for the disconnection, for the destruction of an incredible blind trust that was woven with that friendship you believed to be unconditional but ended up being one-sided. Who could really blame you for being cautious of them?

If when you cultivated that friendship, that friendly love, the fruits they returned to you were rotten, how could you simply trust? Who could?

thv I’m sorry for what happened. I know this was very abrupt, and it must have been strange for you

Strange, for lack of a better word. Strange was a euphemism.

thv I apologize on behalf of everyone.

You I’m not interested

thv If we could meet in person, I could explain better

You I’m not interested. That wouldn’t change anything.

thv I know this goes beyond what happened this week, but I don’t want you to have a bad impression

You You’re a damn audacious one, Jimin Do you think it’s only the latest thing that would make me see you all negatively? Is that the only thing you’ve done? Or well, what you haven’t done either

thv Okay, I expressed myself very poorly I know we were already on bad terms before; I meant that I didn’t want it to get worse

You Well, honestly, I didn’t think it could get worse until now.

thv I’m making it worse

You Wow, apparently you do have awareness and common sense For many years, I thought you lacked that

You blocked the phone, letting it drop onto the table, your heart racing because of the audacity that man had to refer to what had happened as if it were just a silly childhood memory, as if it had simply been a stupid basketball game where you weren’t allowed to play. That only reinforced your thinking, the only plausible reason you had given life to over the past few years, the only explanation you had for their disappearance: that they never cared about you as much as you did about them; that you were never truly fundamental in their lives. Because, come on, they had built a friendship and shared memories before you appeared on the scene; they knew each other beforehand with a depth you could never reach, long before your name reached their ears. They had a connection; you were never ignorant of that; there was something in them that kept them united, something that made them understand each other almost on a spiritual level, and naively, you believed they had made you a part of it; that you had managed to be part of that connection.

But no, it was never like that. It was always one-sided. Whether you were a game, a case of charity, or someone they simply couldn’t say no to, you had no idea, but none of those options felt too foreign to reality. Especially considering the way Jimin referred to the past as if it had been a child's game and nothing more. There was never more for them. You should've known that.

thv I’m really sorry, y/n I truly wish I could talk to you in person I promise I can explain many things

His messages shone on the lock screen, and more than feeling curious again, you felt rage. So now they could talk. Now they could fucking communicate. Where was that willingness ten years ago? Five years ago, even? You never thought you would see any of them so willing to offer you what you had longed for, maybe at least to finally bring closure to the whole situation.

But you didn’t want to give them the right to become the victims in this situation. They had time to do something, yes, now you knew, and they simply chose not to; it was high time you really let it go. Let them go. What would an explanation fix now? When, if there was still something of the friendship you built, it should've crumbled to dust. Their willingness now meant nothing. If you ever saw any of them again, you would rather rip their hair out in a fit of rage.

You Fuck you Fuck all of you

And you blocked Taehyung’s account.

Anticipating any possibility, you also blocked Jungkook and hoped that would be the end of it.

Finally, you would try to seek true healing, because it was about damn time.

You y/n, I'm so sorry y/n? y/n????????????????

Oh no. Taehyung's going to kill me.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Speaking of the king of Rome.

Park Jimin flinched, tightening his fingers around the phone he was holding, which clearly wasn’t his, literally caught red-handed. He swallowed hard when his friend’s footsteps drew closer, circling around to face what he feared most.

“Jimin...” Taehyung began, his confused expression turning into caution, quickly shifting his gaze between the phone and the wide-eyed blonde. “Tell me you didn’t do it.”

Jimin shrank even more, pursing his lips, realizing there was no escape. In his defense, he had fervently believed for a moment that he would succeed. Taehyung hadn’t agreed from the start, especially given how angry Yoongi had been that afternoon when he arrived at the penthouse and how he had locked himself in Namjoon’s office, and the tone of their voices hadn’t diminished for even a second, especially not when Jin arrived an hour later.

Taehyung and Jimin weren’t sure what had happened, but considering the recent events, they could make an educated guess.

It all led back to you.

They were surely paying for what they did.

“I told you it was a terrible idea!” Taehyung strode closer and snatched the phone from Jimin’s tightly clenched hands. Jimin let out a defeated sigh, sinking back against the couch as Taehyung began to scroll through the messages, growls escaping his throat.

“I didn’t think she’d be so...”

Jimin hesitated, and when he turned to look at his friend, his furrowed brow silently asked, “are you serious?”

Another defeated sigh escaped him.

“You’re not fixing anything. If Namjoon finds out about this...”

Taehyung didn’t finish his sentence, but Jimin understood. But could any of them really blame him? Let he who is without sin cast the first stone! No one was a saint in that place when it came to you. At least he had the decency to try to explain things when the others just charged in as if nothing had ever happened (for now, Taehyung and Jungkook, simply because he still had no idea what had happened with Yoongi).

The problem, of course, was that Jimin was better at comforting someone in person than through messages.

“There's no going back from this.” Taehyung murmured, still focused on the screen. The shine in his eyes gave Jimin an idea of what was going through his mind, and he remained silent until Taehyung looked up. “We really messed up.”

“Did you need this reality check?”

“Did you?” Taehyung frowned. “I don’t know why you expected a different response.”

“Well, what did you expect to happen doing what you did?”

Jimin watched his friend click his tongue.

“What did you expect me to do? I didn’t think it would snowball like this.” Taehyung shook his head, and Jimin barely recalled with a shudder how the atmosphere had felt in the penthouse after Tae had posted that story about your books on his Instagram. “I just wanted...”

Once again, Taehyung chose to remain silent, but in his absence of words, Jimin understood.

To make up for it.

“Obviously, I’m not going to say anything,” Taehyung added, shooting a sideways glance at his blonde friend. “After whatever happened with Yoongi, I don’t even want to imagine how Namjoon would react if he finds out about this.”

“If he finds out what?”

Jimin and Taehyung froze on the couch, watching through the reflection of the TV as the person appeared behind them before they could recognize the friendly yet concerned tone.

Jung Hoseok circled the couch, clearly troubled by what he had just heard. It was evident he had just returned from practice because his hair was wet and he looked somewhat flustered, his cheeks flushed despite the chilly weather that night. He dropped his training bag on one of the armchairs, and Jimin averted his gaze when he caught his friend's eyes. It wasn't that they usually kept secrets and tiptoed around the others, but ever since Jungkook had pulled that stunt of searching for you at work when Namjoon had expressly forbidden it, the waters between them had been a bit tense, and any topic involving you could explode any healthy and cooperative conversation in seconds.

Hoseok crossed his arms, allowing his cheerful expression at finally arriving at the penthouse to fade completely, hardening his features as he shot a stern look at the two young men.

Taehyung also averted his gaze. The moment he heard Hoseok's voice, he tucked the phone between his legs and probably looked tenser than he should have. He, just like Jimin, didn’t dare meet Hoseok’s eyes at that moment. Because Hobi had stopped at the door, and with whom they had in front of them, they couldn't hesitate. They both knew it, they both understood.

And Hoseok knew very well. He was aware of all the tricks the two shared and could sense from their silence that they were up to something. Besides, of course, their conversation had been overly revealing. They had to be thankful it was him who arrived in the midst of their confessions, and of course, he would demand to have a conversation of such gravity with such freedom.

But no, in that house, secrets were not kept.

“If he finds out what?” Hoseok emphasized the words, urging the stubborn young men to keep their mouths shut.

Hoseok then exhaled through his nose in a sigh.

“Is it about y/n?”

Jimin and Taehyung lifted their gazes, a bit tempted but diverting their eyes as if pretending to be uninterested. While the atmosphere had been very tense lately, Hoseok and Jin had kept themselves somewhat distanced from all that unease, mainly because their demanding jobs kept them away from the penthouse most of the time. Namjoon, for his part, couldn’t escape the topic as easily since he had an office at home, initially to monitor them in a healthy way, and now because he felt the need to keep an eye on each of them to prevent them from doing something stupid.

Yoongi... well, maybe he had tried to stay on the sidelines, but he had clearly failed miserably if he had ended up arguing with Namjoon and Jin.

“What did you guys do now?”

Hoseok's severe tone was chilling. Jimin remembered the times he had decided to participate in his dance classes, the few that he taught personally each month, and how he had felt Hoseok’s sharp gaze and his blunt comments about his steps in front of all the students. It was as if he became another person. Although it was terrifying, the two young men admitted it was refreshing to see him like that in the academy, because he had lost a bit of his spark since his accident. Before, he only looked that serene and committed when he was at his tennis practice.

At that moment, however, Jimin and Taehyung appeared more reluctant despite his severe attitude, because they didn’t know if he would spill the beans to Namjoon afterward.

“And what happened with Yoongi?”

The slight softness in his tone made Jimin lift his head. Still with his arms crossed over his chest, Hoseok sat across from them at the table in the center of the room.

Jimin sighed, and Taehyung shot him an alarmed look. Are we really going to give in this quickly?!

“We don’t know what happened with Yoongi. He just arrived in the afternoon, locked himself in the office with Namjoon, and they wouldn’t stop arguing. Then Jin came in, but that didn’t make them stop.”

Hoseok looked up, scanning the hallway. Now the house was silent, perhaps more grave and tense than usual. Hoseok didn’t know how it had come to this and hadn’t sensed that atmosphere immediately.

“Is Jin here?”

“I think he’s in his room,” Taehyung replied, shifting on the couch. “He stormed out of the office a while ago.”

Hoseok grimaced at the mere thought, causing a shiver.

“Then it is about y/n.”

Jimin and Taehyung once again averted their gazes.

“Oh, come on.” Hoseok uncrossed his arms, more frustrated than angry at that moment for not being able to fully understand what was causing so many arguments among his friends. “I’m not going to go talk to Namjoon later, regardless of what you tell me. I just want to understand.”

The two young men exchanged a glance, Hoseok believed, communicating mentally. It was always strange but interesting how those two could understand each other at such a level that often they didn’t even need a look. They could support each other's ideas without overthinking it, just like they were doing at that moment in front of him, and Hoseok couldn’t help but think that this topic could cause them more harm than they realized. That these two were even hesitant to share something with him now, fearing to do so, considering whom they could trust or not, spoke volumes about how this issue was being handled and it was not healthy at all.

Hoseok didn’t know that Namjoon had been arguing. The only time he had talked about that topic with the others was when Jungkook’s incident happened, because by crossing such a clear and blatant line, Namjoon saw the need to have a group meeting to set some ground rules. But whatever had continued to happen that he was unaware of was creating cracks in the trust of all the members, and that didn’t sit well with him at all.

“I wrote to her on Taehyung’s Instagram,” Jimin began, looking down with his hands intertwined on his legs. “And I might have made things a lot worse...”

“Might have?” Taehyung turned to look at the blonde, who barely raised his head to meet his gaze before Hoseok interrupted.

“And what did you say to her?”

Jimin pressed his lips together. “I asked if we could meet in person, and when she said no, I just tried to apologize for everything.”

“Don’t forget that you proceeded to carry out a rather undisguised gaslighting.” Taehyung added.

“I didn’t manipulate her!”

“You spoke to her as if everything that happened didn’t matter at all!”

“That’s not how it was! I just expressed myself very poorly,” Jimin exclaimed, facing Taehyung’s accusations, who remained with his arms crossed and chin raised, clearly in disagreement with him. “You, more than anyone, know that I don’t communicate well through text.”

“Because you overthink everything. You didn’t even need to text her in the first place. I told you it was a terrible idea. Now she hates us even more!”

“Did she say that?” Hoseok intervened.

Taehyung gave him a disbelieving look.

“And I quote: fuck all of you.”

Hoseok took a deep breath, trying to process the situation. Taehyung looked angry, and Jimin appeared offended that Taehyung was so upset about what he had done, in addition to misrepresenting his words, if Hoseok understood correctly. But the brown-haired guy had a point: it had indeed been a terrible idea, and Namjoon would lose all his hair if he found out. He understood Jimin’s motivation for trying to reach out, but Hoseok felt Jimin had lost some tact in the process by approaching you just to find a quick solution. Clearly, the atmosphere in the penthouse was affecting everyone, and not in a good way. He couldn’t judge or blame Jimin for trying to lighten the situation for both parties, even if he could have approached it differently.

So Hoseok sighed, understanding the magnitude of the problem they had, and turned to the two young men who were now looking at him attentively, after recently avoiding his gaze as if their lives depended on it.

“How did you think you were going to meet her with the level of fame you have?”

Hoseok knew Jimin had acted on impulse, and perhaps addressing the underlying reasoning would make him think better next time, if there was one.

Jimin opened his lips slightly, confused.

“I... I don’t know, but I would've found a way.”

Taehyung scoffed. That would have been impossible because, surely, only after Jungkook, Jimin was one of the most recognizable faces in the industry and, therefore, couldn’t walk freely down the streets without having a horde of fans behind him within seconds. If, for some divine reason, you had agreed to meet with Jimin, then he would have exposed you too much to the public eye and you would have had more problems before getting any answers.

“There’s no way, Jimin.” Hoseok spoke, as the blonde shot a fierce look at his brown-haired companion. “We’re no longer in a small town.”

The two young men turned to the elder, putting their silly squabbles aside. A feeling of nostalgia and longing filled the air, embracing them and bringing to the surface poorly buried memories in the gardens of their minds; the gusts of Hoseok’s words uncovered them easily.

“We can’t afford that luxury now. We lost the opportunity a long time ago.” Hoseok reminded them, with a hint of discord in his voice.

Taehyung hated remembering those times. Having had his hands tied, sealing his mouth voluntarily, believing he had no other option... it completely sickened him. For a long time, regret had physically drained him.

“I won’t talk to Namjoon, don’t worry.” Hoseok assured them, and although the two young men should've breathed with relief, the truth was that they already felt too shaken. “But be more careful about where you talk about these things.”

“What things?”

“Fuck!”

Taehyung jumped off the couch when the voice came from his right, being the closest to the source. The three friends turned to see Yoongi, walking down the hallway from his room to the main living area of the penthouse.

“Are you guys sharing secrets?”

Instead of being scared, Jimin and Taehyung fell back onto the couch, letting out an exhausted breath. Yoongi shot a confused look at Hoseok, who returned it with a more severe expression.

“Come here, Yoongi. We need to talk.”

i hope you guys enjoyed! and thanks to my friend for helping my unresponsive overworked ass.

[Friend: I don't know if the tags worked. I'm sorry!]

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