#how to cheat steam wallet

[whalesforhands]

hiii i was your first anon ever but how about reader with someone ELSE crushing on her? under stsg’s noses?! omg the absolute war that will go down… maybe its a new student or maybe a first year! haibara? haibara a first year who has become absolutely enamored with her and heart eyes whenver he sees her!! and ykw shes so sweet oh so kind she doesnt find him odd in fact she thinks he’s equally sweet and shes so a fond of him, gives him the prettiest smiles and helps him out a lot! except shes so oblivious to the fact that he likes her!! everyone knows. everyone. shoko, nanami. (nanani tries his best to warn haibara about the future in liking her bc of the two guard dogs around her but haibara doesnt get the hints) AND stsg. oh when those two find out itll be an immediate shut down. maybe shoko lets out about the heart eyes haibara gives her everytime he sees her in the morning. or maybe they catch haibara and reader in a conversation where haibara is sweating and blushing a bright pink and reader is just calmly (?) and worriedly talking to him talking about some subject she found interesting, she reaches to touch his hand or head and he heats up even more and she has to almost catch him from fainting. stsg in the distance are fuming!!! satoru’s plan is to go storming in and makeout with her and give her a couple of hickies but suguru knows she might pass out from that and tells him to relax.. even tho inside suguru is equally distraught…but anyways… how you write is up to you!!!

so happy youre growing more and more and your stories are getting better!!!🩶🩶🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🤍❤️‍🔥

i love haibara man. everybody loves haibara i’m not gonna be mean to him cause he’s a literal ray of sunshine. no one can convince me to make haibara suffer, not even u, my no.1 anon.

so i completely changed ur suggestion hahahah

our first years are too cute! (geto x reader x gojo)

“Nanami-kun, Haibara-kun!” You wave at them from the courtyard, your arms flailing about in the air as you practically bounce in place from excitement.

“Good morning!” You’re dressed in your exercise getup, Shoko next to you stretching as she gave a lazy wave towards them.

“(last name)-san is always so cheery, isn’t she?” Haibara enthusiastically waved back with his whole body, trying to match your jolly energy.

“Good morning!!!”

Nanami sighs, watching as the SG duo begin to flank you, Suguru’s arm resting around your shoulders as Gojo pulls out some senbei from his pockets, waving it in the air and claiming they were fresh off the grill and deliciously ready for anyone to sink their teeth into.

“You’re gonna get stomachaches if you accept food from him.” Suguru whispers not very inconspicuously into your ear as you laugh.

“I can hear you!”

“If you can then you should treat us to some soda.” Shoko adds in, her arms twirling themselves around your free one as she stares at the bespectacled sorcerer.

“Or we’ll tell Yaga-sensei you skipped out on running 3 laps.”

You look at him stunned. Betrayed.

“I let you finish my water bottle when you said you were exhausted from running…” You’re disheartened at being tricked as Geto rubs your shoulder, whispering more about ‘liars’ and ‘dirty cheats’.

Shoko simply smirks as she holds your arm.

Satoru gives in to pressure.

“…The Satoru wallet has made an appearance once more! What would our lovely users like to drink today?!”

Your slackened shoulders instantly pipe up as the other 2 share a secretive high five.

��—

“And that’s why azuki bean flavour is the best, Nanami-kun!” You grin as you plop the said wrapped bread into his open palm.

It feels hot. He could practically see the steam arising from it, the slight sweetness of the red bean wafting into temptingly into his nose.

This is too fresh to be from the cafeteria. It smells different too.

(He would know.)

“(last name)-san,” He stares at the treat whilst Haibara was gushing over the food, eyes sparkling as he looks at it. “Did you make this?”

You flinch, bashfully twirling a lock of your hair as you avoid his gaze.

“No…?”

Your eyes flit back up to meet an unamused stare paired with a cocked eyebrow. Oh. You’ve been caught.

“Aha.” You turn your back to him as your voice grows quieter, more insecure. “Is it obvious because it’s ugly?”

Realization then strikes you.

“A-ah, you probably wouldn’t want it because it’s homemade, right? Sanitation issues and all…” You promptly spin back around, trying to retrieve your treats before Haibara interrupts.

“(last name)-senpai made it?! Then there’s no way we can reject it!” He’s hugging the treat in his arms and dodging your attempts to snatch it back.

“B-but it really isn’t any good! I’ll buy you some from the one down the street!”

Even Nanami was now using his height to hold your treat high in the air, out of your reach. Haibara moves to copy his movements, both hands holding your homemade snack as high as he could go, proudly showing it off to the sky as if it were his greatest treasure.

“I will never forget this kind gesture, (last name)-senpai!”

“We will greatly savour this as your underclassmen.”

“Why do you both sound like this is the last thing you’re ever going to get from me?!”

——

“Then, Nanami swept in and went KABOOSH! And the curse was down several limbs!” Haibara recalled, his fists pumping into the air as he tried to replicate the excitement he felt during the mission.

You nod excitedly, happy to simply hear his excited voice.

It goes silent when he finishes, the tension enveloping the both of you.

You don’t want him to feel awkward around you.

Mm, what do the younger ones like nowadays anyways? Gundams? Maybe you should talk about that Ex-S MXA-0011 Gundam that you built with Satoru the other day.

“Ah…” He scratches his head, lost. “I’m sorry that I don’t know much about Gundams!” He’s now fervently bowing in apology.

You feel bad.

“Haibara-kun, you don’t need to bow!” You’re waving your hands frantically, trying to get him to stop as you panic.

You go back to thinking, absentmindedly staring deep into your lowerclassmen’s eyes as you think about the latest trends.

(You’re not noticing how intensely you’re looking at him. He’s blushing up a storm.)

“Oh!” Your fist taps your into your open palm.

“Do you like Pokemon?”

“Ah, Pocket Monsters?!” He’s excited. “Do you like it as well, (last name)-senpai?! I have a copy of the Fire Red version and I-“

He’s trailing off. You’re happy to see him smile again as he prattles on and on. So precious.

“You’re cute when you talk about things you like, Haibara-kun.”

Are kids these days meant to be so red?

(He’s only a year below you.)

“Are you okay?” You move forward, hand gingerly moving his bangs aside before you press the back against his flushed skin, face slowly closing in on his.

“Haibara-kun, are you not-“

“Haibara-chan has a cold, doesn’t he?!” Gojo tackles the boy, placing his own forehead against his own as Geto appears next to them.

“Sick people should take it easy and rest.” Geto snatches the boy away from his partner, dragging Haibara onto a nearby chair, slapping a fever patch onto his forehead as Gojo sticks a thermometer into the poor underclassman’s mouth.

“Guys, is that not a little rough…?” You move forward to try to stop Yu’s body from being tossed around, his eyes starting to spin as you try to catch him.

“Look at that!” Gojo’s arm is hugged around your neck as he pulls you in closer, grabbing you and pulling your body towards him for you to view the beeping thermometer with him.

“Our poor boy is burning up!”

“Well that’s not goo-“

“Suguru!” He snaps his fingers in the air as his hand moves to now rest on your waist as you’re pressed into his side.

“Contact the hospital and bring us our finest doctor!”

“Understood, sir!” Geto stands to attention, saluting the both of you as your eyes blankly stare at him.

What.

Geto simply winks at you, shaking his phone in his hand that had popped out of those seemingly endless deep pockets.

“Shooookooooo, emergency in the courtyard!”

You hear a muffled sigh coming out of his device as Gojo suddenly outs his own phone to take a selfie with you and a red Haibara.

(“Just smile as cutely as usual!”)

“…what does this have to do with me?”

——

Haibara Yu never felt such joy.

‘My seniors care about me so much!’

Gojo’s holding him by his legs, whilst Geto’s supporting the weight of his arms as they quite literally cart him around by his limbs.

He’s in bliss before he’s unceremoniously tossed onto the hard wooden bench, an unimpressed Shoko appearing by his side.

“Alright, patient of the day.” Her eyes glint as her hands move to hover over his body. “Get ready to experience the healing of a lifetime.”

“Yayyy, Shoko is the best!”

“World class!”

“She looks pretty when she’s so focused…”

“What did you troublesome lot pull Haibara into…?”

Should… He be scared? No. He’s got his trusty seniors and Nanami to look over him. He trusts you all.

——

“Which one of you made your little ‘adjustments’ to my chair?” Yaga growled out, a throbbing pain throughout his lower back and posterior as he sat upon the steps, pain relief patch slightly peeking out of his pants whilst looking down towards the two kneeling suspects.

Fingers are pointed at each other.

Yaga glares at the two culprits refusing to take the blame.

“You troublesome lot…” He cracks his knuckles as the two begin to cower slightly.

“NEED MORE DISCIPLINE!” He lets loose his fist, sending the SatoSugu duo flying as they soar through the yard, yelps of pain being let out.

…

Haibara gulps as he hears the commotion happening just meters away from him.

He should just ignore the building irritation and rage that’s boiling from within the senior beside him… Right?

He feels a sudden smack to his gut as his body jolts up, his ears taking the brunt of the loudest he’s ever heard Ieiri-senpai.

“I CAN’T CONCENTRATE IF YOU DON’T SHUT IT!”

(She’s referring to her two injured classmates who are rubbing their heads as they whine about Yaga’s ‘mistreatment’.)

(You’re holding an ice pack to Satoru’s head as Suguru curls up beside you, waiting for his turn.)

——

Sleeping.

That’s what you were all doing. The sun was beginning to set, an orange glow engulfing your forms in its warm embrace as the night began to settle in.

Suguru’s back is against the tree, arms crossed against his chest as he slumps over, snoring lightly with Satoru drooling all over his right shoulder.

You’re nestled comfortably on his other shoulder, snuggling yourself into his neck as you nearly fall onto his chest, one hand in Shoko’s hair where she lays on your lap, her hand oddly stretched forward, fingers grazing the fabric of Suguru’s knees.

The underclassmen simply settle down around the tree with all of you, right next to Gojo as they observe the strangely serene sight.

“Our upperclassmen… Are kinda cute, aren’t they?”

“Don’t flatter them.”

(“Should we wake them up?”)

(“…Let them rest for a little longer.”)

masterlist

Notes:

“Suguru, is your head fine?”

“Ah, I’m quite alr-“ He pauses, his smile growing as he looks at you, eyes curving up into mischievous crescents. “Actually… It does feel a little sore.” His tone subtly shifts to one of mock hurt, hand coming up to press the bump softly as he fakes a little wince.

(A little lie wouldn’t hurt, right?)

“Wanna make me feel better?” He’s silent as he leans down towards you, hoping you pat his head and let him indulge a little in your touch.

You stare at him.

He’s surprised when you slowly lean up on your toes, fingers pressing against his cheek before a kiss was administered to his forehead as you tuck away his strand of hair.

“I hope you feel better soon.” You watch him as his blush grows, eyes staring starstruck at you.

“…”

“I will if you do that again.”

(“My head hurts too! It’s my turn!”)

(“My hand hurts all of a sudden from whacking Haibara.”)

[thenewgradrn]

Steam Wallet Code Generator 2021

updated working as of January 2, 2021

[tk5150]

Wings

Okay, I just got through writing this piece it's sorta a one-shot. Please let me know if I should pursue this story. Please send likes and messages if you like this story it really motivates me to continue. I don't own the picture.

Summary: You're a hero with wings, you are currently mated with Keigo (Hawks). But, found out the hard way that he was cheating on you in the worse way. You're trying to wrap your mind around it.

The air was thick with steam from the hot shower you had taken a couple of minutes ago, and the scent of peony surrounded the area. You dried off your body and gently dried your wounded wings, flinching due to the wound at the base of them, you let out a hiss. Facing the immense bathroom mirror you wiped the condensation from the steam to look at your bruised and battered face and body. What once was you [h/c] locks now an uneven shape of singed, blackened tangled mess. You gently touched your busted lip that once kissed the love of your life goodnight, good morning, etc. 

Rage took over your entire body so much so you balled up your fist and punched the mirror, cracking it and leaving your fist a bloody mess. It felt as though all of your feelings came washing up to the surface. Why? Why did you block the line of fire?! And pulled me to shield you and her? Why did you save her and leave me in the line of fire?! You hurried to the once shared bedroom to get changed in your civilian clothes. You sat on the bed recalling the inquisition to what had transpired in the vicinity that you were patrolling.

You stood before the Hero Commission Board members. The commissioner was the one who first spoke.

 “Can you please explain in great detail what had transpired in the Mall of the World? When you first got dispatched there,” the commissioner looking straight at you.

 “When I first got the call that a prime villain had taken the whole mall and held people hostages was exactly at 11:32 am, I was doing a patrol with Endeavor when we had gotten the call,” you answered. 

“Upon getting that call y/n, did you get the identification of the villain?” A lady on the left panel had asked.

“Yes…yes, I did…we had recognized his quirk…it was Dabi,” you answered briefly.

“When you first arrived there were there any other heroes that were in attendance?” The man on the right side of the panel questioned.

“Yes…Hawks was on the scene,” you stated.

“Some people reported that Hawks pulled you in the line of fire shielding him and an unknown woman,” the woman from the farthest right panel.

“That is correct,” you answered and heard the whispered behind you.

 The Hero Commission is making you take a one-month vacation and therapy due to the circumstances that Keigo had put you through. After you debriefed them on what had happened, how many casualties, and what had happened between you and your mate.

You recalled almost all the questions they had asked you. You still have Keigo's pitying look when he used it as a shield to prevent his lover from getting harmed. You closed your eyes shut and still picture Keigo pulling you towards them against the heat and watching his lips say ‘I’m sorry y/n’. You really didn't want to go home, because you wanted to go to the hospital and sit with your mate. Even though there was no feeling he was, after all, your mate, you are bonded to him so you didn't have any choice. You were looking around for the car keys and your wallet, cursing yourself for not being organized and having an obligation to that asshole. Once finding them you headed for the door, almost stumbling on Enji. Surprised, you looked up.

"Enji…w-what are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you…and like always your not listening to the Commission, why are you visiting that douche?"

"Enji, I need to be with Keigo…I need to" 

"You need to rest and take care of your damn wounds y/n…do you think that he would've done the same for you?! He. actually. Put. you. In. danger...just wait until I get my hands on that ass hat of a bird!" Enji interrupted.

"Despite Keigo's actions…he is still my mate, I'm obligated to see him" y/n finished. Enji was clenching and unclenching his jaw while looking at his car ahead.

"Fine…I'll drive you there…while you're there have them patch up your body" Enji ordered and you nodded.

The drive was silent. Breaking the silence "y/n, once Keigo is through the critical stage, what will you do? Are you going to break the mate bond?...surely you don't like torturing yourself with this debacle?" Enji asked inquisitively. Looking down lost in your thoughts and thinking of that incident, you couldn’t help but close your eyes tight at what Keigo had done before the fire hit him through you in one unfailed blast, the look in his eyes said it all that 'I'm sorry look'.

Pulling up to the hospital, you thanked Enji and got out. He asked if he should wait for you in the car but, you politely declined. You went up to the information desk.  You smiled at the lady and asked what room is Hawks in, the lady kind of looked at you funny “um…Mrs. Takami…there’s a guest already visiting, and there is only one guest allowed in the room,” the lady awkwardly smiled. Sighing, putting your wallet on the help desk, and pulling out your identification card. “Here, it clearly states I’m his closest relative, his spouse,” you said while showing your card. Without any arguments, she informed you of the hospital room and you gladly stomped into the room, stopping at the sight of the other woman holding Keigo’s hand. She turned to you with tears in her eyes and a look of guilt washed all over her face. She quickly got up and proceeded to the door.

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave” she whispered while walking past you. You quickly turned to her “We need to talk,” you replied.

Walking into the waiting room, luckily no one was occupying the room. You and she sat down facing each other, there was an awkward silence. You broke the silence and asked a question.

“How long has this been going on?” you sighed.

“About six months,” she answered while fidgeting.

“Why? if you guys have feelings for each other then why did he marry me?” you questioned.

“We didn't mean to hurt you y/n, it just happened” she replied fast.

Looking down with tears brimming your eyes. It just happened? Oh, come on Moni…this was a long time coming…don't piss on my shoes and tell me it's raining. Any self-respecting friend and woman would not help ruin a marriage let alone betray her best friend…I trusted you…no…I trusted both of you…I can't only blame you…I blame my husband too” you said with indignation. With your thumb and index finger, you rubbed your eyes trying to rub the tears out of them. Before she replied you added. “Was he ever in love with me?”

"No" she whispered, but you caught that.

"Are you guys in love?" You asked.

“Yes, we are in love with each other,” she replied while looking down in shame.

“so, he settled for me…because he couldn't have you, I was his second choice…someone to pass the fucking time…then that settles it…let me have an hour to visit with him,” you said while getting up, she got up and nodded.

Walking back into Keigo’s room you quickly shut the see-through sliding door and closed the curtains so you can maintain some privacy. The room was kind of bright, the sound of beeping from the heart monitor was constant, and the smell of rubbing alcohol and sterility permeated the air. Shaking your head, walking around the hospital bed, and sitting down on the chair next to him. "You want to know what's so funny about this situation…is that I was taken like a fool…like an imbecile…my heart should be broken in a million pieces…but, yet I don't feel nothing," you chuckled the crossed your bruised and lacerated legs. "You have to love that person to be heartbroken…and yet, I don't feel anything…hell, I should've known this outcome…the moment you started to 'work late' and me eating dinner alone every night" you said while staring at his unconscious form. "You know you hurt me not only physically but mentally…what gets to me Keigo…what gets to me…you made a conscious decision on sacrificing me to save you and that woman," you stated. "And, you know what else is funny Keigo? You would have thought that I would've died out there…but look who's in the hospital bed?" You smirked.

"I'm releasing you," you stood up from the chair and hovered on Keigo's form. “I release you from your promise, from our bond, from everything that has to do with me,” you said while taking his ring off of the fourth finger of your left hand. “I release you…Keigo” you whispered in his ear. You pulled out your phone and called the hero commission. “hello…I need you to get separation and divorce papers in order, when he is conscious, have him sign them also I would like to be transferred to the other side of the state, if not another country, and by the way, don't tell him my whereabouts, I will leave as soon as you give me the go ahead, call me when you have finished this task for me,” you said the hung up. 

Walking outside you felt a sense of relief, you took a deep breath. You felt so good to be released from your nightmare bond. Even your burns and wounds felt a little bit better. 

[roguish-gallery]

Reader has just been captured by Arkham Riddler's goons! They're gonna be used in Nygma's next plan to beat the Bat! They must've been captured after failing one of his traps. Except they didn't. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Actually reader LIKES riddles and puzzles. They test out and play Nygma's traps for fun and survive. Looks like Eddie's new victim is smarter than they look. And it looks like they may actually have a fondness for him. After all, they DO admit to admiring him.

Arkham!Edward + Reader That Refuses to Die

Oughhhh anon,,, I had so much fun writing this and it kinda sorta turned into a giant experimental shitpost I’m so sorry,,, I hope u enjoy it in spite of this. Everything is under the readmore because this thing is massive. Slight warning for light ns/fw mentions

He’ll entertain your survival for maybe an hour, maybe two, before he realizes that he probably won’t be able to kill them through his puzzles. His mild bemusement is turning into annoyance. God damn it, these traps are supposed to fucking kill Batman, and some rando he picked off the street is solving them with ease? Is he off his game? Are his games not as clever as they’re supposed to be? Jesus Fucking Christ, now he’s got a migraine on top of everything else.

“Okay, that’s it!” Deathtrap turns off. Lights turn on, and a goon shuffles into the hallway to escort you out of the building. Edward’s voice crackles over the intercom- he’s not even going to give you the decency of showing his face over the video monitors. “Game’s over. Get out.”

“This is about stroking my ego," He says. "not about you having fun. You’re probably cheating anyway.”

You try and reason with him, mentioning that you've admired his past works.

“Okay??? I like me too. So does everyone else. What does that have to do with anything???”

This bickering goes on for a surprisingly long time. You obviously cannot see it from where you are, but Edward is like this *this* close to having a tantrum and needing to furiously jack off to get rid of this pent-up energy.

“Here’s a riddle for you, jackass- what refuses to die, unchubs my dick, and is a pain in my ass?”

“An STD?”

“Wha-?! N-no!! Shut up!!! Shut up shut up shut up!! I was talking about YOU, you- you troglodyte! Get off of my property.”

You hear the victim in the adjacent room ask if they can leave too.

“No, I need you to get your dick chewed off by those feral eels to make me feel better. If anything, the fact that I’m giving you an extension to solve that 17X17 Rubik’s cube is more than generous. If you somehow still fail to solve it and fall into my pit filled with dick-eating feral eels, well, that’s on you.”

You wake up on the floor of a Waffle House with a splitting headache. The goons must have given you chloroform so you wouldn’t be able to find the hideout. The employees and the other patrons take no notice of you because they are too preoccupied with their own headaches. Checking your pockets, you realize that Edward had given you some change to order some hashbrowns- that’s the closest you’ll get to him begrudgingly recognizing your ability to solve his puzzles.

Meanwhile, Ed is beside himself in anguish. How could he ever hope to outwit Batman now? He needs to lick his wounds and take time off to bounce back to his usual self.

_____________________

Okay! It’s a new day, and Edward has refitted his hideout with a ton of new, zesty deathtraps! These will surely kill Batman!!!

….. Right?

Well…

Hmm… there’s only one true way to know if these will work or not.

You wake up on a platform suspended above a pit filled with twice the amount of dick-eating feral eels. There is an 18X18 Rubik’s cube at your feet. Edward is polite enough to turn his video monitor on when he’s addressing you this time.

“Okay! I have kidnapped you to run through my gauntlet of genius to see if my traps are of any actual value. Your compensation will come in the form of your survival, this bottle of half-used ringworm mediation that I don’t need anymore, and a pack of peanut M&Ms.”

When you beat them again, Edward doesn’t throw a tantrum, he just slouches in his chair. He’s not mad, just disappointed in himself.

Should you say something? You apologize, just to be safe.

“No, no. You didn’t do anything wrong, it was foolish of me to assume that these traps were actually worthwhile.” He sighs, and rubs his temples in frustration. “You can go home. I’ll find you when I’ve made more traps, okay?”

You suggest going out to get something to eat and to blow off some steam- a Waffle House, perhaps.

He lifts his head from his hands, and slowly nods his head. “... Yeah. I guess I could go for some hashbrowns. Okay, I’ll get my wallet.”

Eventually, this turns into a regular thing- Edward kidnaps you, you solve his puzzles, and you go out for hashbrowns after. Kidnapping is kind of a loose term at this point, too- Edward eventually gives you his address (in riddles, obviously) because it saves him money on chloroform, and he didn't want anything in your system that could potentially hinder your performance in his death maze.

After a while... the death traps just kinda stop altogether, and he just invites you over to play touhou or to vape- Edward even apologizes for calling you a troglodyte the first time he met you, and admits that of all the people he's ever met, you come pretty close to his own intelligence. You're also... kind of his type. He's uhhhh... free for dinner next Saturday if you wanna talk about setting up traps for Batman or if you just wanna talk about your interests btw...

[angelanika]

How Bizarre Pt.3

<<<Part 2                                      

Chapter Warnings: Toxic Relationships, Sugar daddy/baby relationship, cheating, cursing, implied sexual activity, depictions of racial discrimination

Your new job is how you would describe as very...eventful.

While most of the girls catered to Mr.Hara in more thrilling ways, you took it upon yourself to look after Prince and actually do some tidying up around the place, which Mr.Hara was extremely grateful for.

And being the generous magician that he is, he then materialized said gratitude into dollar bills.

One Saturday evening after you had tucked Prince in and all of the girls had left, you placed a steaming plate in front of an exhausted Mr.Hara who instantly pulled you into his lap.

The house was eerily quiet for a place that’s usually buzzing with excitement but you kinda enjoyed the peace.

You made yourself comfortable as he holds you tight against his broad chest and rests his head on your shoulder, letting out a deep sigh. 

His sleek, black hair was untidy and a few top buttons of his shirt had been undone but overall, the man just looked SEXY.

“Rough day?” you ask softly.

“Yeah,” he groans. “Thank you for the meal princess.”

“My pleasure.”

You hop off his lap to allow him to eat and he ushers you to sit down next to him. 

As he finished, you sprung up to collect the plate but he stopped you and told you to just sit back down for a minute.

You were confused.

“So,” he finally began,”My wife is coming back tomorrow.” 

Well isn’t this fucker just full of surprises...

“WIFE?!” you exclaimed, “You told me you were divorced!”

“Divorced……..in my mind.”

This bitch.

You felt totally betrayed, stupid and almost disgusted with yourself. You wanted to slap him across his cheek, spit in his face and walk out right then and there but... you didn’t.

You knew that finding a new job that paid just as well quickly would be extremely difficult, especially when the employers here were always reluctant to hire...people like you…

You basically had to fight for your last job and even after all that struggling, they still didn’t pay you well.

Mr.Hara watched the anger wash away from your face, being replaced with that of just annoyance and uncertainty of what to do next.

Taking notice of your semi-cooldown, he figured it was ok to continue, “She was dealing with some international relations for the Hero’s Commission abroad and was gone for quite a bit, but as i said, she’ll be back tomorrow so I have to make some changes.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, plopping your exhausted body down in the luxury dining chair, holding your aching head in your hands.

 “Ok, so what does that mean for me?” You asked without even looking up.

Mr.Hara adjusted in his chair a bit and cleared his throat, “ahem well obviously I can’t have all the girls here anymore, so I let them go.”

Your face flew up, “Even Lada?”

“Yes, sorry, I know you two had gotten close.”

You only sighed and dropped your head again as he continued.

“But I would like for you to stay if you don’t mind.” 

Seeing that you were the only one who really worked around the house and took care of Prince, it made sense. 

With his wife around, his little “maids” are gonna have to actually do some housework and that’s where you come in.

“My wife will probably try to cut your pay but don’t worry, I’ll still top up your account and such. So what do you say princess?”

You remained quiet.

“I understand if you want to go,” Mr.Hara said quickly during your silence, sitting up and reaching for your hand, “but it would be a real help if you sta-”

“fine.” you whispered.

Relief washed over the unnecessarily attractive man and he was finally able to relax back down in his seat.

But just as he slouched back down, you swiftly jumped up.

“But if she’s a bitch then I want extra,” you argue.

Mr.Hara immediately laughed at this and dragged you into his lap once more,

 “Well I guess I’ll be paying you extra princess.”

*   *  *

The next day, just as he had promised, Mrs.Hara arrived.

She had long manicured nails and shiny jewelry to match. Her silky dark hair rested by her slim waist adorned with an expensive diamond clip. She looked a tad younger than Mr.Hara himself but her stare was just as intimidating.

The minute she stepped through the door, the whole atmosphere changed drastically and it was plain as day that their relationship hadn’t a single drop of romance.

You wondered if it arranged for connections or convenience or something like that but then again, that ain’t none of your business.

"Welcome home," Mr Hara stated plainly.

“Mm thanks" she boredly replied.

She huffed while taking off her brown fur coat, to which he makes no effort to assist and you laughed to yourself at the thought of how eager he is to remove other women’s clothing.

"Where's Rosalina? I need a massage."

"Actually…” Mr.Hara began, “Ms.Rosalina was getting a little old and had served us well for years so I let her go." 

Mrs.Hara glared at him.

He then grabbed your shoulders and presented you in front of her.

"This is Y/N L/N, our new maid" 

The terrifying woman finally acknowledged your presence.

She eyed you up and down and up and down.

The sass in you was aching to do the same to her and turn up your nose, but u suppressed to urge. 

"Hm," she finally says, "at least she looks the part."

TF SHE MEAN BY THAT?!?!

"Ok Y/N, I'm not comfortable with you touching me just yet, so fix up a plate for me quickly, I'm starving. I don't care what it is." 

"Ok," you said ready to walk off.

"Oh and one more thing....its Yes Mrs.Hara"

As you strolled passed Mr.Hara to slip into the kitchen, you quickly tapped his shoulder and whispered, "Remember. Extra."

* * *

It had been a little over 2 months since Mrs.Hara's arrival and you were balancing working at the house and the daycare pretty well.

When you finally arrived at the mansion one Friday to complete your evening work, you immediately noticed a missing luxury car from the massive driveway.

"Mrs.Hara," you spoke, "should i prepare the dinner table for you and your husband now or will he be out a bit later?"

She straightened up from her lounging position on the couch and looked up from her phone to face you.

"Oh yeah, about that. I kicked him out." 

Huh?

Your soul left your body.

Fly high y/n 🕊

"W-what do you mean you kicked him out?" You damn near shouted. Your voice laced with desperation and your eyes wide and shaky.

Mr.Hara was the only reason you kept this job, the only thing getting you through this job!

She turned to you with a raised brow, confused as to why this would bother you so much.

"I caught the old dirtbag sleeping around so I kicked him out," she explained calmly.

 "Frankly I knew he always had other girls in our bed and I was with other men," she laughed, "but I got tired of it, you know, so I kicked him out." 

You felt sick.

"P-please excuse me," you mutter.

Mrs.Hara only gave you a small nod before plugging back in her earbuds and turning to her phone.

You dashed towards your small chambers and immediately took out yours.

"Please pick up! Please pick up! Please pick up!" You chanted into the device as it rang.

The number you have dialed is unavailable. Please tr-

Fuck...

“Come on you dirty bastard! Pick up! Pick up!”

The number you have dialed is unavailabl-

FUCK!!

You probably tried to call Mr.Hara’s phone at least 74 times that evening and each time there was no answer. 

You didn't have anyone to ask for a possible new number.

The extra cash suddenly stopped being deposited into your account 

And honestly, now you were just tired.

Rumour has it that he left everything behind to go live his best life in the tropical paradise of Jamaica soaking up the sun, sand and sea and fully enjoying the Caribbean girls and culture. 

You laughed to yourself as you thought about all these bizarre events that took place throughout the year and landed you where you are now.

All you could do was laugh at this point.

You looked back at the list Mrs.Hara had left on the table for you this morning, mentally ticking off "Make Lemonade" as you placed the 2 jugs in the large refrigerator.

"Ok y/n," you said to yourself, "time for the cupcakes! Ouuu Prince is gonna love these!" 

As you zoomed through the kitchen, as busy as a bee, Bakugou was on the other side of town casually strolling through the hotel you had left just hours before.

“Did you enjoy your stay, Ground Zero?” asked the polite lobby boy as he opened the large glass door for the hero.

“Yeah Yeah Whatever,” Bakugou grumbled while pulling up his dark sunglasses.

But he was in a better mood than most days and was feeling generous. 

Before he slipped through the door, he stopped and pulled out his wallet, “And uh, here’s a tip- WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Lobby boy: 👁👄👁

“WHERE TF IS MY MONEY?!”

“Umm sir...we’re gonna need you to lower your voi-”

“STFU and take this,” Bakugou yelled while shoving a $20 bill into the boy's hand.

The boy went on to thank the Pro Hero but Bakugou was already storming out the door and throwing himself into his car.

“I’m sure I had a few other hundred bucks in here, where the fuc-……...THAT BITCH!”

It all finally came back to him.

“THAT SNEAKY FUCKING BITCH! Ohhhh when I get my hands on the slu-”

*Brrrrr Brrrrr*

Bakugou continued to curse under his breath as he aggressively shifted around in the car to grab his phone from his back pocket, “Tch. What is it shittyhair?!”

“Hey Man!” Kirishima chirped, “Just reminding you about the kid’s birthday party today.”

“HAH?! The fuck you talking about? It’s my day off!”

“Uh well no, not really. You agreed to show up for the kid’s party today at 4, remember?”

Bakugou finally took a glance at the notifications on his phone, revealing the 20+ reminders from his assistant and notes in his calendar. 

Oh yea this shit to make him lOoK bEttEr iN tHe pUbLic eYE.

“AGHHH!! Fine...I’m on my way. I just need to go home and grab my costume.”

“You’re not at home?”.

“No shittyhair, I’m at a hotel.”

“What are you doing at a hote- OHHH!” Bakugou could practically hear Kiri’s smirk through the phone, “so you finallyyy got laid, huh?”

“Shut the hell up! It hasn’t been that long shittyface!”

“Its shittyhai-”

“WHATEVERTHEFUCK”

“Haha alright man,” Kiri laughed, “Just hurry up ok? I’m pulling up now and these people are LOADED!”

Bakugou started up his car and put Kirishima on speaker as he began to drive.

“Yeah ok whatever, just send the address.”

“Alright man, will do…...wait, HOLY SHIT Bro!”

“What is it?!” Bakugou barked.

“Aye man, make sure you dress well! The maid setting up here is SMOKING HO-”

*Beep* Call Ended

“Tch. Fucking dumbass…”

A/N: wheww what a piece of drama! Sorry if this seemed rushed, I really wanted to get the backstory out there, without taking away from the main plot 😅 Thanks for all the support, sorry for the wait but sit back, things are gonna get heated🤪

Taglist:

@jazzylove @blkirishima @lovinthesiz3 @lasnaro @starrylustrousastraea @thanx-idonttry

[imagine-docx]

the cute barista and his crisis.

Summary: You spent the night at home, while your roommates were out partying. Suddenly, a random number called you ranting to you about how much he hates life. [college!barista!]

Warnings: hella sexual jokes and references, swearing, and hating post-secondary, as per usual.

A/N:  hope you guys are still doing well and i hope you guys are staying safe! 💛 - Amanda

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday consisted of either early morning classes, midday classes, and the occasional class that ran past 8 pm. Fridays were the only day you can claim as yours, but of course, you had to work.

It was Thursday and the cool New York air was engulfing you and your roommates as the three of you made your way to the usual coffee shop that was a little bit off campus. “Gonna ogle the cute barista again?” Wanda nudged.

“Ah yes, young love,” Nat snickered. 

“Shut up,” you felt the heat rise up to your cheeks, “I think he’s cute, but he probably has so many girls fawning over him.”

“Remember, we are the one cute girls in the coffee shop,” Nat said, opening the door, “After you, m’lady.”

That resulted in you and Wanda letting out a laugh, “Okay incel,” Wanda responded. The three of you glanced up at the menu, “I’m feeling tea today, but what kind?” Wanda said.

“After that comment, poison flavoured,” Nat muttered.

You let out a laugh, “You’re quite spicy today, go for a spiced tea.”

Wanda stuck her tongue out at Nat, “That’s why she’s my favourite roommate,” Glancing back at the menu, “Is Russian spiced tea good?” 

“I don’t know, ask your favourite roommate,” Nat said.

“Bitch.” 

The cute blond barista came up to the register, “You ready? Or do you need another minute?”

You felt Nat pinch your left ass cheek, and you nudge your elbow into her ribcage, “Yeah. Can I get a caramel iced coffee?” 

“Of course, what else?” He asked.

“Can I get a cinnamon dolce latte?” Nat spoke keeping her hand near your ass cheeks.

“Of course, and for you?” He indirectly asked Wanda.

“Russian spiced tea please.” She spoke.

“That’s $17.60, here or to go?” He asked.

“Here,” Wanda said, while digging in her backpack for her wallet, “Credit please?”

“Aww, we love it when our sugar daddy treats us,” You snickered, resulting in a laugh from Nat and the barista.

“It’s only because she bought dinner and you bought dessert last night,” she grumbled.

“Go take a seat, and I’ll bring the drinks over when they’re done.” He spoke, which resulted in a hums of thank you from the three of you and you guys walked over to the usual booth you guys inhabited when you were here.

“Is there a reason that my poor ass cheek got abused?” You asked.

“He was checking you out,” Nat bluntly stated.

“No he wasn’t, he was doing his job.” You stated. 

“And I am a natural redhead,” she sarcastically said.

“Wait, it's dye?” Wanda practically cried out.

The three of you laughed, and went over your plans for the next weekend. Nat had work and was doing rehearsal for the Russian dance competition that was happening in a few weeks. Wanda had to work and was also seeing her brother Pietro on Sunday. You on the other hand had to work, and had to have a comparative essay done by Monday. 

“You’re so lucky you’re done your midterms,” Wanda said, “I’m still struggling trying to wrap my head around platyhelminths.”

“But see, you watched me and laughed at me for only surviving off of coffee and fruit snacks for three weeks straight. Now I am prospering and living my life and you have a midterm on Monday,” you said.

“You looked like death around the apartment,” Nat laughed, and the cute barista brought over your drinks.

“Russian spiced tea, cinnamon dolce latte, and caramel iced coffee,” he said, passing around the drinks, “And a tiramisu square.”

“Uh, we didn’t order this?” Nat asked. 

“The table over there sent it,” he responded, pointing his head over to where a group of boys were sitting.

“Thank you,” the three of you hummed and there went the barista.

“You know,” Nat leaned into you, “He has a nice ass.”

“Nat,” You hissed.

“America is proud of that ass,” Wanda snickered.

Suddenly the group of boys that sent the dessert got louder, trying to get your attention. You rolled your eyes, “God, I hate men.”

“Except for the pretty blond one with a nice ass,” Nat said, digging into the tiramisu. 

“I second that,” Wanda said, taking a bite of the piece on her spoon.

Suddenly the frat boy cult got even louder, Nat rolled her eyes, and moved your hair from the base of your neck, “What are you-” Then came a long lick from the base of your neck to your jawline. Suddenly the frat boy cult shut up, “Jesus Christ, warn a girl.”

“Why are you acting all shy now? You weren’t this shy last weekend when I was doing body shots off of you at the back of the apartment,” Nat said, nonchalantly.

“You may have shut up the frat boy cult, but the cute barista is so red you can confuse him for a bottle of ketchup.” Wanda stated.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

Two weeks have passed, and you would go into the coffee shop whenever you had over an hour worth of a gap, or before work. Today is one of those days. It was Friday, and you were due to start your shift in forty-five minutes. 

Walking into the shop, there was the cute barista working the front. You didn’t catch the way his eyes practically lit up upon seeing you. “Just you today?” He asked.

“Yes sir,” you said, giving him a smile.

“Caramel iced coffee?” He asked.

“Of course,” you said, digging in your bag for your wallet. 

“Don’t worry, it's on the house.” He said, “Here or to go?”

“To go, please.”

“You got it doll,” and with that you stood off to the side and waited for him to make your drink. 

“Caramel iced coffee,” he called out.

“Thank you, have a good day,” you called out before making your way to your shift.

“You know you look like a lovesick puppy,” Bucky said to Steve.

“That obvious?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah. Also, remember, Happy is gonna take that coffee out of your paycheque,” Bucky said patting Steve’s back.

“If it’s for her, Happy can have my entire paycheque.” Steve responded, going to clean up.

“Ugh, teenagers and their hormones,” Bucky spoke.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

You, Wanda, and Nat sat on your shared living room floor eating the steamed dumplings and sushi that you ordered for dinner. “So you saw the cute barista boy today,” Wanda said, “Soy sauce please.”

Nat handed her the sauce before taking a california roll for herself, “His ass still thick?”

You nearly choked on the dumpling you were eating, “Fucking Christ, Nat.”

“You can’t miss that ass!” Nat tried justifying, “He walks in, and his ass walks in five minutes later.”

Wanda choked on her iced tea, “He wore this white shirt that was way too tight for him, God that left nothing to the imagination,” you said recalling the way his muscles moved when making your coffee.

“Someone’s having a wet dream tonight,” Wanda said.

You threw a soy sauce packet at her head, “No! I don’t even know his name.”

“See that’s a problem, she can’t moan his name if she doesn’t know his name.” Nat laughed.

You threw a soy sauce packet at her head, “The both of you need to get laid.”

“So do you sweetheart, and by the big muscular blond with the thick ass who works at The Petite Bean.” Wanda said, nearly dodging another soy sauce packet.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

The next Friday night you were at home by yourself eating a sandwich from the bodega that was next to your building. Wanda and Nat went to this party, you wanted to go, but after your shift, you were exhausted and just decided to call it a night. 

Taking the last bite of your turkey sandwich, you got up and threw everything out, and decided to go and take a long hot shower. You stood at the tv debating whether or not you should turn off the documentary on whales, but you decided not to as it helps serve as background noise.

You showered and threw on a massive NYU hoodie and some pyjama shorts. Getting out of the shower, you headed back to the kitchen, dug around in the cabinets for a snack of a sort, and headed back to your position on the couch. 

You were scrolling through your Instagram, when a random number called you. You answered because you never know it could be Nat or Wanda in trouble. “Hello?”

You heard a shaky breath from the other side, “Oh sorry, I have the wrong number.”

“Hey, before you hang up, are you okay?” You asked.

“Not really-”

You cut him off, “Did you want to talk about it? I have the time.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna bother you,” the man from the other side of the line said.

“Of course, shoot,” you said.

“Midterms got the worst of me. I’m practically failing chemistry, why did I take chem? Like I’m an art major, the fuck am I doing in science? Then the girl I dated for a little keeps coming by the place I work at with the man she cheated on me with, and that shit still stings. Then, there’s this cute girl who keeps coming by the place I work, and I can’t seem to talk to her. She’s like this ball of sunshine, and I don’t think I can talk to her. Do you have anything fucked up happening in your life? Or is the lord hating on me?” 

You laughed, “Unfortunately, no. With the chem thing, don’t be so hard on yourself. Courses get to the best of us, we are so reliant on a GPA, when it doesn’t even guarantee a job after practically killing ourselves for this degree. Failing one course isn’t so bad, just don’t fail more than three, that might result in academic probation. Honestly, if she cheated on you, fuck her. She doesn’t deserve any of your attention, if she was the one who gave you up. And with the other girl, just slowly ease her into it, ask her how her day has been, ask her about the weather, if she’s holding a book or something, try to bond with her about that.”

“You sound like a psych major,” he joked.

“Psych minor,” you corrected, “Socio major. From what I know you can’t be a science major. So what do you major in?” 

“Art history, and minor in regular history.”

“Oh, we got a huge history fan don’t we?” You joked.

“Biggest nerd in Brooklyn.”

That same night the two of you stayed talking until 4:30 am, before he heard you yawning and telling you to get some sleep. You both bidded your goodnights and the moment your head hit the pillow, you knocked out.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

The following morning, or afternoon at that point. You stumbled into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, and heard Wanda and Nat groaning about how they need Advil. You opened the door to Nat’s room and saw the two of them practically cuddling. You threw two bottles of water, and the bottle of Advil at them before heading to the washroom to brush your teeth. 

Once you were done, you sat on the counter of the kitchen drinking your coffee, you heard stumbling from the hallway. Suddenly, a disheveled Nat appeared, she was sporting bedhead, smeared makeup, a black lace bra and some random sleeping shorts that looked like they belonged to Wanda. “Good morning sweetheart,” you cooed.

She flipped you off before making herself a cup of coffee, “Never drinking again.”

“Nat,” Wanda whined, “Please I need a cuddle buddy.”

“You have another roommate,” Nat reminded her.

Wanda nudged your legs open and curled up into your frame, “My favourite.”

You laughed while patting her head, “What happened?”

“So much booze, free booze.” Nat stated.

Free booze to university kids was like feeding candy to a toddler. “Alright cuddlebug. I have errands to do, I gotta go shower.” You said trying to push away Wanda.

“No, please don’t.” Wanda latching onto you harder.

“She’s gonna make her way down to Manhattan to see the cute barista,” Nat joked.

“Harhar, I’m going to the bank and I need to mail out this return. The green dress was too big, had to order a size down.” You said, finishing off your coffee, finally pushing off Wanda, “Also why the fuck would I go to Manhattan to see the barista.”

“Dick makes you do crazy things baby girl.” Nat said.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

While you were getting dressed your mind ran onto the man who called you last night and ranted to you about his life. You decided to call him back and check up on him. After three rings he picked up, “Hello?”

“Hey, you called me last night and we talked for an hour and a half about some super deep stuff, you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks for checking up on me.” He spoke.

“Not a problem, if you ever need to rant, you can always text me.” You said shoving your wallet into your bag.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna burden.” He asked.

“If you need a friend, I am here for you.” You said.

You two exchanged names, before both of you had to go. And that started your texting relationship with a man named Steve Rogers.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

You came back home from your errands trip and brought bagels for the two hungover disasters you call your roommates. You walked back in and saw Wanda and Nat under the pink fur blanket watching the whale documentary you were watching last night. “My baby is back,” Wanda said excitedly.

“I bring bagels, because bagels make us happy when we are hungover.” You said placing the bag on the table, “Two rainbow bagels with strawberry cream cheese. Two poppy seed bagels with tuna salad on both.” You said handing each of them their own bagels. 

You grabbed your own two before plopping next to them, “If barista boy doesn’t domesticate you, I will.” Nat said.

You laughed before you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you got a message from Steve asking about the bagel place you usually get your stuff from. “Who’s Steve?” Wanda asked.

“New mans?” Nat exclaimed.

“You’re replacing barista boy before you could even dick him down?” Wanda cried out.

“No, Jesus. I haven’t even met Steve-” Wrong phrasing you used there.

“You’re back on tinder?” Wanda asked, “I thought we were doing it together.”

“No, he accidentally called me last night and we talked for an hour.” You said nonchalantly taking a bite out of your bagel.

“A threesome with barista boy and Steve? Wow someone’s getting some,” Nat said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Jesus Christ Nat.”

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

As per usual, you made your way into the cafe getting coffee before your shift. Noticing the barista, you again missed the gleam in his eyes when he saw you. He mustered up the courage, “Hey, how are you?”

“I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m doing good,” You smiled.

Steve felt his knees weaken at your smile, “The usual?”

“The usual,” you said, paying and going to message the roommate group chat about the tight light blue shirt barista boy was wearing today.

“Alright, here you go.” He said sliding you the coffee and a straw.

“Thank you, have a good day,” you said before slipping out of the shop and heading to work.

“So you took the girls advice and asked her about her day, look at you making big moves.” Bucky nudged Steve.

“One step at a time Buck,” he said, going to clean up his station.

“Hey, you better have not given her another free coffee,” Bucky called out.

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

After several weeks of messaging Steve, you learned he also attended NYU and both of you worked around your schedules, trying to meet up. The two of you finally decided to meet on campus. You picked a morning where you, Nat and Wanda had a two hour gap just in case something happened and he was in fact a 50 year old pervert with a thing for third year students.

You: hey i’m in the student centre

Steve: Hey, I’m sitting, I’m wearing a black jacket and a white t-shirt

You looked up and almost screamed, as if the gods were playing a joke on you. It was your cute barista boy. Okay, being rational, he could happen to be here at the same time, wearing the same out- nope, no way. “Steve?” You asked, approaching the table.

Looking up from his phone, he was shocked as well, “H-hi,” he stuttered out.

“Can I sit?” You asked.

“Of course.”

“So I guess you were helping me, try and talk to you,” he finally spoke out.

“Wait, what?” You asked, confused.

“The girl I was messaging you about, was you,” he sheepishly said.

You didn’t know how to respond, “Really?”

“Yeah, if you don’t feel the same that’s okay.” Steve said looking down at his fingers.

You took his hand in yours, “No, I like you too.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, Nat keeps trying to get me to ask you out. But I kept talking myself out of it.” You said.

“How about I treat you to the finest thing this campus has to offer and we can talk about how we both are idiots,” he offered.

“It better be the Wendy’s,” you joked.

“Only the finest for the finest,” he winked at you, resulting in the blush staining your cheeks. He stood up and put his hand out, upon standing up you took his hand and was about to exit the student centre. 

You heard Nat speak loudly to Wanda, “She’s getting dick, I’m so proud of her.” You wanted the ground to create a blackhole and swallow you whole. 

Until you heard another voice, “BuckBuck! Our baby Steve is all grown up and getting pussy.”

You looked to see Steve blushing, turning back and flipping him off, “Fuck off Sam.”

Of course, both of your roommates were the worst.

[kookiebunnii]

d4u || golden closet film

jan. 2019. we’re going to korea today. i’ve never been, but jungkook is definitely excited about it. i think he plans to make a video out of it too, maybe for his youtube subscribers or something. i hope when he looks back on this trip, he can be happy. maybe through the lens of that camera, he’ll find something worth smiling for.

pairing: bestfriend!jungkook x reader

genre: slice of life 

word count: 3.5k 

warnings: n/a

Whenever you traveled abroad, the painful stiffness in your neck always filled you with regret and determination to invest in a neck pillow in preparation for the next flight. However, you’d always be too mystified and distracted at the new sights to be seen once you’ve landed to remember how much suffering you endured in arriving there. Asking Jungkook to remind you hasn’t worked either, since the boy could barely remember to bring his essentials on a typical day. When he happened to have his wallet, phone, and surprisingly-- his keys, you’d make sure to tease him with a, “Aren’t you a big boy now?” He would scrunch his nose at you in annoyance every time. He loathed it. You loved it.

You shifted restlessly in your seat, trying to find a comfortable nook or cranny so you could finally enjoy some much-needed rest. A 12-hour flight time paired with this seat in particular could be used as a torture method. You had offered Jungkook the window seat, since you knew he’d want to get some aerial shorts during the flight for his new film. Unluckily, that meant you were stuck between the long-legged boy and an elderly lady that you would feel embarrassed for intruding on if you took up too much space. As a result, you’ve spent the last 30 minutes startling awake every two minutes because your head kept tilting forward uncontrollably.

“I know I tease you for having a big head, but I didn’t know the issue was this serious.”

Despite the deafening nature of flying at high altitudes, you were close enough to Jungkook to hear his little snide remark. You gave him a nasty glare before leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes again. You could handle a few hours of pain in return for the exciting vacation the two of you planned for winter break. As you stretched your limbs, you imagined how luxurious you would feel later when visiting all the stylish cafés in Seoul, chowing down on Busan delicacies, and admiring Jeju’s beauty in person.

It’ll be worth it.

You’re not sure if you’re dreaming when you feel the armrest serving as a divide between seats being raised. Afterwards, a soft pressure tilts your head to the left and the thin blanket you’ve haphazardly tossed on for the night adjusts itself snugly against your shoulders. When you open your eyes slightly, you realize that Jungkook has let you lean on his shoulder as you sleep. You’re feeling too sleepy and dazed to open your mouth to say thank you, so you settle for adjusting your head to find the most comfortable spot on his shoulder instead. Unsurprisingly, you pass out shortly after.

When you wake up, you find Jungkook filming the slow descent of the plane through the tiny window. Through the soft and wispy clouds, you notice how the city breaks through in specks of sunlight. The moment is captured through the steady lens of your film director and you watch as he continues the shot for a few seconds longer before cutting the video. He gives you a brief smile as he turns off his precious camera and begins stowing it back into his backpack.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks, absentmindedly scrolling through the map projecting through the small screen attached to the seat in front of him.

“A lot better than expected,” you watch as he zooms in on your destination, studying the names of cities that pop up as he scrolls, “Keep up the gym workouts and we can rent out your arm as a pillow.”

He chuckles in response to your suggestion. Before you could elaborate more on the profit margins you expected from such an endeavor, the captain’s voice fills the intercom. He announces that everyone should expect a landing in thirty minutes. The idea of finally escaping such a small space filled you with a rare sort of apprehension, your leg bouncing up and down unconsciously with delight.

The wonder bubbling in your chest rises and overflows as you watch the landscape pass you by. Finally settled in a taxi heading to the hotel nestled in the hustle and bustle of Seoul, you observe the tall apartment buildings popping up, reaching towards the sky. You couldn’t help but gaze out at the expanse of dark water as you crossed a bridge into the inner parts of the city. It was your first time in this country, but Jungkook had done a great job of hyping up the destination in your mind.

Your hotel room is just as tidy and neat as you like, a platter of chocolates lying on the desk and a large window exposing the beautiful view of streets and skyscrapers below. There were no odd abstract paintings that American hotels tended to adorn their walls with, so you were grateful already. The two of you were already eager to head out again, as you both waited for Jungkook’s camera to fully charge. As he spends some time viewing the shots he already recorded, you decide to take a shower. You need to relax the tense muscles accumulated from that long flight and change into something nice for the afternoon. The hot water feels like a much-needed embrace as you take your sweet time admiring the small bottles of citrus-scented shampoo and body wash provided by your accommodation.

As you step out with a whirl of steam like an evil villain out of a movie, you’re surprised to find a majority of the chocolates have disappeared from the platter and the culprit laying out his shirts on the bed nearest to the window. Jungkook looks between the four outfits laid out with serious thought, as if he had been invited to a fashion runway and needed to impress some modeling agencies. You quickly snatch up some chocolates as you head over to look at the clothing pieces yourself. Mouth full of creamy sweets, you pick up his oversized TOPMAN shirt and a pair of sweats. Pointing to the bathroom, you swallow thickly and command, “Shower so we can head out. I want some hotteok.”

He laughs, picking up the garments you chose and responding cheekily, “Out of all the foods I’ve talked about, it’s hotteok you’re excited for.”

Crossing your arms in defense, you give him a stern look as he marches into the bathroom himself. You focus on drying your hair, picking out your own outfit, and preparing a good argument for why hotteok sounded like the superior Korean food item. Trying to pick something impressive but not over-the-top was an added struggle after Jungkook had asked to film shots of you during the trip. At first you were against it, knowing you weren’t exactly an Instagram model and slightly camera-shy as well. However, he had promised you that he’d be focusing more on capturing the country scenery itself than trying to film you specifically. You gave him a punch in the abdomen when he added that you weren’t that much of a sight anyways, but you could tell that he already had a vision for his new film project. Especially since you had yet to really see or understand the work he embarked on in connection with his major, you felt that this was a good opportunity to help him out however you could. You had no clue regarding the types of filming techniques Jungkook loved to pour over in his spare time, studying the videos of filmmakers he admired on repeat while you receded to the Netflix shows you personally found far more engaging. You knew he would guide you through what he wanted, given that he was thorough and patient when it came to whatever he produced for the public. If you could assist in achieving his dreams, even if you might feel awkward doing it, it would be worth it.

You saw the way he used to zone out when the two of you passed by a merry couple on the way to your favorite ice cream parlor. You also quietly took note of him deleting folders of pictures of Yuna that were saved in his desktop when you peeked into his room a few weeks ago. It had been almost a year since he cried as you tried to hold his broken heart steady during the breakup. You remembered how he would seize up when he saw her in public, eyes wide in fright as his fight or flight response kicked into overdrive.

Your thoughts cause your grip to falter over the turtleneck sweater in your hands, remembering the forced smile you would plaster on as you pulled him away to a different café instead, remembering to never visit Serendipity Coffee on weekends ever again. The hurt he endured in spring left an emblazoned impression on you, as you spent summer worrying over his emotional condition. You knew he traveled during the past summer to keep his mind off things, and every time the two of you managed to meet up between his trips and your working shifts you would try your best to gauge his wellbeing. However, you knew that you hadn’t won any brownie points with him after coming home with a swollen cheek and a bleeding scratch under your eye the week after Jungkook had found out Yuna was cheating. Word had already gotten to him before you could make up an excuse for your injuries, and you had never seen him that angry before. He made you promise that you would never meet with Yuna again, especially not if you were going to pour a drink on her head and get into a subsequent cat fight. With your stubborn attitude, the air was tense around the two of you for a good few weeks before he acquiesced and apologized for his passionate reaction. It only took you calling Yuna a drowned rat for him to finally laugh and forgive you for the altercation. He admitted that he appreciated you attempting to defend him, but still forbade you from getting in harm’s way for him. You agreed to his terms, knowing that you’d taught Yuna a lesson she wouldn’t forget for a while anyways.

Remembering this increased your persistence in making this trip a memorable restart to 2019. You had wished for Jungkook to experience nothing but happiness and success in this new year, and although you hadn’t been the most good-willed, obedient individual in history, you hoped that the big man upstairs heard your prayer. Your best friend deserved it.

At dinner, you realize another reason you’re glad Jungkook is your best friend. The two of you could casually stuff your faces like starving teenagers when it came to good food. Unable to relate to girls that only ordered petite salads on dates, you piled up the slices of pork belly in your lettuce wrap. Allowing the ssam to finally enter your waiting mouth, you chew happily as you dance in your seat with chopsticks in hand. Charcoal fire made all the difference, and you had no idea how you were ever going to go back to using a gas stove in the States. You had no idea why Jungkook’s family would move out of Korea when he was a kid—it now seemed like a terrible choice to you.

The amount of orders you and Jungkook clear out at the AYCE BBQ place almost has the waitress crying in relief when you finally ask for the bill. Satisfied and warm, the cold winter air feels less harsh when you finally head outside. Thankful for the puffy down coat Jungkook recommended you purchase for the trip; you watch as soft powder begins to rain down from the sky. Painted against the dark expanse of the night, you try your best to catch some of the flakes on your tongue. Smacking your lips together as if enjoying a delicious treat, you flinch when you catch the sudden lens of Jungkook’s camera trained on your curious expression.

“Snow won’t taste like anything, silly.”

Used to directing your responses to his quips at your best friend’s brown eyes, you opt for glaring into his camera lens instead, knowing he could see your unamused expression. He laughs at this but doesn’t stop filming. Even though you feel a bit unsure of yourself, you do a few spins for your director before throwing up a peace sign with a wide grin. You wanted him to look back on this trip, this video, and remember it with nothing but happiness. He complains that you look super dorky, but you pay him no heed. You could tell he was saying that just to mess with you, given the amount of time he’s repeated that clip in the past few minutes just to “check the details”. Feeling a wave of confidence, you’re glad that your instincts turned into something he could use for his work.

You wanted to see the Han River, so the two of you paced the streets quickly towards that destination. Jungkook was practically your personal tour guide, so you dedicated most of your attention towards admiring as much of Seoul as you could. Thankful for him, you follow along contently until you could see the reflection of lights on water not far ahead.

As soon as you pull your hood down you can feel the cool breeze of the river against your cheeks. It was invigorating in a way, and you could feel yourself fall in love with this place. You feel yourself smiling, the motion likely a side effect of how much you were enjoying yourself. Despite it being the first evening here, this was your first real trip with Guk and the excitement of discovering new things alongside him was exhilarating.

“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook asks, as you’ve realized he’s recorded your little moment of self-reflection.

Brushing tendrils of hair out of your face, you simply give him, and by extension his camera, another smile as your answer. It wouldn’t fit you to be soft on the first day of an outing. Besides, if he knew how much you enjoyed his presence, he wouldn’t let you hear the end of it. Jungkook breaks off silently to film various shots, capturing a vision that perhaps only he could see. You watch him with amusement for a brief moment, before staring back out into the river again. The red and orange lights reflected on the water’s smooth surface were eye-catching, in a way that felt radiating yet peaceful. The sight helped you focus simply on breathing in the fresh winter air, coming to terms that you really were in South Korea for the first time. Adventure awaits.

“Hey Y/N, can you help me with something?”

Jungkook breaks you out of your reverie, bounding over to you in excitement before explaining a camera technique he wanted you to try. After you understood his choppy explanation, he tried his best to demonstrate what exactly you had to do.

“Okay so I’ll move the side of the lens and cover it at the same time?” you bite your lip in nervousness, hoping you didn’t sound like a dunce.

“Here,” he grabs your hand out of your pocket, earning a pout from you at the sudden loss of warmth.

Setting your fingers on the side of his lens, he held your fingers steady as he guided your hand gently over the lens while simultaneously moving the viewpoint of the camera to the left.

“Ah, so you want this to be a transition of sorts? Okay,” you happily comply, spending the rest of the evening helping him get this vlogging-type effect before demanding a reward for your efforts in the form of a freshly-made hotteok.

The next day, you’re able to finally see Gyeongbokgung Palace like you wanted. Even though it was a huge tourist attraction, you always had an interest in history and found the pictures of the architecture on Google simply amazing. Jungkook seems to feel indifferent about the expedition, claiming that there would be a lot of people—a possibility that it could grow quite crowded.

That did nothing to deter your enthusiasm, as you discover that dressing up in the traditional hanbok even meant that the entry would be free! Giddy with happiness, you even convince Jungkook to find himself something. He seems beyond embarrassed when he emerges in a royal blue hanbok from the rental place. You simply whistle in appreciation, your response only making him even more shy as he hurriedly nudged you out of the store.

His overly conscious body language quickly shifted as he began filming again, finding comfort in his hobby. He followed you as you entered the large doors of the palace grounds, catching the way you gasped upon seeing the people wearing beautiful colors and bright red accents painting the pillars around you. Every step you took on the rocky dirt felt important, as you wondered how people hundreds of years must have stepped over the same area.

A beautiful outdoor area with lush green grass and sleepy willows sat beyond the initial entrance to the historical monument, and you couldn’t help smiling at how grand and elegant everything seemed. Other tourists stroll past you, in high spirits as well from what you could tell. It was better than anything you could’ve dreamt up when you were sitting thousands of miles away on your laptop, researching “things to do in Korea”.

Spinning around to catch Jungkook off guard, you take the camera from his hands before saying, “Alright Director Jeon, it’s your turn.”

He sputters in confusion as you give him a friendly nudge forward, training the lens on him instead. Through the viewfinder, you could see the way he suddenly froze up as if he were a deer caught in headlights. You walk up to give him a jab in the belly that breaks him out of his stupor.

“Just be natural. It’s beautiful here, see if anything interests you,” you suggest, lowering the camera briefly to give him a reassuring smile.

“My subscribers would probably rather not see me,” he responded, timidly covering his ears as he talks. You caught this habit of his early in your friendship, easily understanding that he was being overly nervous again.

Giving him a deadpanned expression, you state, “I’ve watched one G.C.F. before you know. The comment section was filled with your fangirls thirsting for a face reveal. What better way than to have them see their oppa in his handsome hanbok?”

His hands leave his ears as you see a small smirk returning to his face, “Did you just call me handsome?”

“I called your hanbok handsome, bunny boy. Now look pretty for the camera.”

His banter with you seemed to relax his nerves greatly, as he quickly settles back into his confident self. Before you begin recording, he replicates the transition you had conducted the previous night. You realize that he would connect the two separate shots this way, so you served as the first subject that would transform into the second subject, Jungkook.

This guy never ceases to amaze you.

The rest of the tour was as stunning as the beginning, as you try your best not to trip over your beautifully embroidered skirt. The golden thread weaved into a multitude of chrysanthemums along the hem, a detail you deeply loved. The camera now stowed away into Jungkook’s bag, you head into the small gift shop located a few steps away from a beautiful moat on the palace grounds.

Admiring the stickers, keychains, and other little knick-knacks strewn about the store, you did your best to stick to the monetary limit you had set for yourself. Everything was so wonderfully crafted that it was difficult to stay under 15,000 won. You settle for a series of postcards with watercolor paintings of various areas of the palace on the front. They were only a few dollars in USD anyways, as you plan to decorate your room with them.

The end of exploring Gyeongbokgung left a sad yet fulfilling impression on your heart. As you hand the pieces of your hanbok to one of the girls working at the front desk of the rental store, you couldn’t help but run your fingers across the stitching again and sigh.

“If it means anything, you looked…nice in that,” Jungkook thinks about his words for a bit as the two of you trudge up the stairs to exit the shop.

With a single eyebrow raised, you turn to face him as if you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The longer you stare, the redder his cheeks become. This phenomenon only made you stare harder, much to his chagrin.

“Stop doing that. I’m only saying this because you looked like a sad puppy over that dress.”

Grinning mischievously, you respond with a playful tone, “I think Koo just complimented me! Wow, what a time to be alive. Truly I must have been a beautiful sight if his highness graces me with such kind words—hey where are you going?”

Even as you curse him for making you sprint to keep up him, you can’t help but laugh.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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[pappydaddy]

Slow? Oh, I can do Slow! (s.h.)

a/n: it is very hard to create a/ns after you’ve written these fics a year ago. i really do not know what to put. but, i am currently revamping my blog and updating my old fics to look more like my newer ones. i will be rewriting this, but i will be doing that some other time. i will still keep this version tho because it’s nice to remember your first fics!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

tv show/movie: stranger things

not requested

tv show/movie: stranger things

warnings: angst with a happy ending, mentions of somebody cheating, some swearing.

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

- not my gif -  

  Y/n couldn’t hide her excitement as she danced around her room. A stereotypical girly pop song blared from her record player making her sing into her hairbrush. Setting the brush down on her vanity, she smeared her lip stick over her lips, still wiggling her hips to the beat of the song. A knock on her door made her movements stop and her head to turn towards the door, knowing that whoever it was would let themselves in. As if on cue, her door opened revealing her mother and younger brother, Dustin. “I just wanted to tell you that I am leaving for your Aunt’s, she’s worried that she’ll go into labor early. Steve should be here soon to take care of Dusty so you can go on your date.” She informed her daughter, her hand resting on the doorknob. 

  “Okay, say hi to Aunt Hannah for me, love you.” Y/n wandered over to press a kiss to her mother’s cheek, giving her a quick hug which her mother returned. 

  “I will,” She reassured her, patting her back before pulling away from the hug. “Make sure you turn your music off so you guys can hear the doorbell so that poor Steve isn’t stuck out on the doorstep until your date get’s here. I’ve gotta go, love you both.” She rushed away from Y/n’s room, leaving Dustin who watched his mother rush to the door. As soon as the door was closed behind their mother, he turned back to his older sister, stepping into her room. 

  “Are you and Jessie even dating? You guys have been on like twenty dates, but you guys haven’t done boyfriend and girlfriend things.” Dustin pried, looking around his sister’s room as she put her record away. Dustin wasn’t fan of Jessie, he felt something off about the allusive ‘boyfriend’. Y/n gave her brother an annoyed look over her shoulder, slipping the record back in it’s spot. 

  “I mean, technically, we aren’t official, but like, we’ve been spending a lot of time together.” She told him, checking her appearance in her mirror, taking in her dress and makeup. Sure, her and Jessie hadn’t put labels on it, but she was positive that all the signs were there. She spend many nights in his bed, going on dates. She knew that they weren't together in the typical sense, but it like an unspoken thing. 

  “So like, you two aren’t together, but you guys are still exclusive?” Dustin was beyond confused. Dating to him was extremely confusing when it was laid straight out, so this was completely new territory for him. 

  “Yeah, we haven’t talked about that yet, but all the signs are there,” She grabbed her purse, stuffing her lip stick in along with her house keys and wallet. “It’s really only a matter of time before we do become official, but this is still a closed relationship.” She pulled her coat on, slipping her heels onto her feet. 

  “Weird, how do you know?” Dustin furrowed his brows. He was still holding out hope for his sister to date Steve. She had been pinning after the former King of Hawkins’ High for years and it didn’t take long for Dustin to figure out that Steve was head over heels for Y/n. It really only took him the second time Steve randomly popped up at their house for a spontaneous movie night while asking if Y/n wanted to join them. Dustin had been making great progress in getting Steve and his sister together until Jessie came into the picture and messed everything up. 

  “You just know, Dusty,” She hummed, her fingers fixing her hair. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she tapped his nose with her pointer finger making him scrunch it up. “You will understand when you’re older,” She chimed, walking out of her room, her heels scuffing on the carpet. Dustin trailed behind her, closing her door on his way out. The doorbell rang out, Y/n’s head snapping towards it, excitement bubbling up in her stomach. Jessie never rang the bell, he just honked from the curb, announcing his arrival. “That must be Jessie! See, he even rang the bell this time - it might be the night we become official!” She squealed, rushing towards the door. 

  “Shouldn’t he ring the bell every date?” Dustin muttered, following her to the door, wanting to see this Jessie guy for once. Clearing her throat, she did a quick adjustment to her hair and dress, yanking the door open with a wide smile only for it to drop at the sight of who was standing on the other side.

  “Hey, Y/n! Awful dressed up for a night in with your two favourite boys, don’t you think?” Steve smiled, walking in when Y/n moved to the side to let him in. Y/n furrowed her brows, a little sad that she had to let him down. He looked so happy to see her when she opened the door. 

  “Actually, Steve. I’m going on a date tonight and I probably won’t be home till late.” She closed the door, walking into the living room where Steve had made himself at home on the couch. His smile fell slightly at the news, but his heart had dropped through the floor. Of course she had a date. She was attractive, gorgeous. Not every boy was going to sit around, too scared to make their move on her like he was. 

  “Yeah, with Jessie, the mysterious boy who I’ve yet to see, and is yet to ask her to be official.” Dustin grunted, plopping down on the couch next to Steve, folding his arms over his chest. Steve looked at him oddly, his mouth parted. 

  “Shut up, Dustin! I told you that it was only a matter of time before he makes it official.” y/n shot at him, the shrill sound of the phone ringing cutting through their conversation. Automatically, Y/n walked over to it, picking it up. Steve watched her as she disappeared down the hall further. 

  “I don’t know, Steve, I’m getting weird vibes from this Jessie guy. He honks when he arrives. Honks!” Dustin exclaimed, getting worked up. Even at his age and understanding of the dating world, he knew that you don’t honk, you go to the door. 

  Steve went to say something, but he was cut off by Y/n walking towards the front door. “That was Jessie, he is running late and said that I should meet him at the theater and we’re going to go to a later movie, I’m going to go get popcorn so we can skip the line, I’ll see you guys when I get back!” She called over her shoulder, snatching her keys from the table by the door as she breezed out of the house, leaving the sweet, intoxicating smell of her perfume behind. 

***

  Y/n stood outside the theater, the large bag of popcorn in her hands and the drink sitting on the empty ticket booth. It was way past the second scheduled time they were supposed to meet, the box office closing for any ticket purchases, but the scalpers stood around, waiting for people running late, like Jessie apparently was. Huffing, Y/n looked at her watch on her wrist before looking around. She didn’t see him walking towards her. Chewing on her lip, she looked at the scalper closest to her. “Hi! Excuse me,” She called to him nicely, gaining his attention. “Would you like this popcorn and drink? My date and I will just buy new ones.” She offered. 

  “Yeah, sure. Thanks.” He grumbled, taking the popcorn from her before reaching around her to grab the drink. 

  “No problem.” She muttered. Walking away from the box office, she walked towards the sidewalk, wanting to see if Jessie’s car was even at the theater. Her heels clicked against the sidewalk as she neared the dark alley. Subconsciously, she glanced down it as she passed, almost as if some sort of psycho-killer was lurking in the shadows, but what she did see was much worse. In the alley sat Jessie’s blue ford. The car itself was pointed towards her, as if he had pulled into from the street on the other side of the alley. It was dark, but she could see him sitting in the backseat, his head thrown back, his mouth open. She didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know what was going on. The windows were steamed up, the car slightly rocked and she recognized his sex face. 

  Storming up the alley, she slammed her palms against the hood of the ford, startling Jessie and the girl who was bent over, her face in his lap. Jessie’s eyes widened as she scrambled to tuck himself back into his pants, zipping them back up as he stumbled out of the car. “Y/n! I thought I cancelled the date, what are you doing here?” 

  “No, Jessie, you didn’t cancel the date and you don’t get to ask the questions here,” She shouted, her voice booming into the night. “You were really going to cancel on me so you could get head in the back of your car from Josslyn Anderson? I know we weren’t dating, but we were certainly something, Jessie,” She yelled, shoving his chest as Josslyn sat in the back of his car, watching everything unfold. “You lied to me Asshole! Were we anything more than fuck buddies to you?” She asked, hurt. 

  “No- Y/n, you weren’t-” She cut him off with another shove to the chest. 

  “I don’t fucking want to hear another lie, Jessie! I don’t want to fight about this, I want you to leave me the fuck alone, don’t call me, don’t talk to me, don’t even look at me you dirty pervert,” She jabbed her finger in his chest, anger coursing through her body. “I really hope the blowie was worth it.” She seethed, turning on her heel and walking away. She felt stupid for even believing that after twenty dates and not being official that they would actually date. She could hear him calling her name, but she didn’t care. 

  Getting into her car, she didn’t even look back at the alley. In a way, she felt empowered. A high from telling him where to go, but ultimately, she felt crushed. She didn’t hurt that much. They technically weren’t going out, he wasn’t her boyfriend, but she was sure the signs had all pointed to being exclusive. “Nothing I can do, he ain’t shit, he doesn’t deserve my tears, he doesn’t deserve being upset over, he ain’t shit!” She yelled at herself as she drove back to her house. Despite her trying to coach herself out of crying, she still felt hot tears streaming down her face, ruining the makeup she spent so ling perfecting. 

  Pulling into her driveway, she saw the flicking light of the TV and the light of the living room still on. She cursed to herself. She had hoped that Steve and Dustin had retreated to either the kitchen to pig out of frozen pizza or to Dustin’s room to talk about boy stuff so that she could make a quick escape to her room so she could cry and scream while listening to the best break up songs. Turning her car off, she trudged up to her door. Throwing it open, she heard the two boys let out girl-ish screams, practically jumping out of their skin. “Y/n! You scared the shit out of us!” Dustin told her, his hand over his beating heart. 

  “Sorry.” She muttered, keeping her head low to try and hide her tear stained and mascara streaked face. Closing the door, she tried to fast walk through the living room towards her room, but their eyes followed her, watching in confusion. 

  “Wait, why are you back so early? Shouldn’t you guys still be at the movie-” Dustin was cut off by her whirling around, her eyes hard. Both boys were taken back by the tears rolling down her cheeks and the black streak marks. 

  “Jessie didn’t show up so I went looking for him only to find him getting head from Josslyn fucking Anderson in the backseat of his car and turns out, he meant to cancel our date not postpone it thirty minutes! Happy? You were right, Dustin. You were fucking right.” With that, she fled to her room, slamming the door. A few second’s later, they heard the sound of her heel hitting the wall followed by the second one. Steve flinched at the sound of the thud, but what broke his heart was the sound of her music playing at full blast. He just knew that she was laying face down on her bed sobbing about some no-good schmuck who had no idea how good he had it by having Y/n. 

  “Go do something to make her feel better Steve! You love her for Christ's sake!” Dustin shoved his older friend. pointing to his sisters room. Steve shook his head violently, his fluffy hair bouncing. 

  “No, now is not the time for my feelings to be revealed and she don’t love me - she’s upset about another guy, Dustin!” Steve’s hands gestured to the closed door of her room. 

  “Jesus, you really are and idiot Harrington,” Dustin muttered, shaking his head. “She’s loved you for years! Did it ever occur to you that she was going out with Jessie because she felt that you didn’t like her and he was conveniently the only other guy she was remotely interested in?” Dustin slapped Steve in the shoulder. 

  “Ow, wait- What? Seriously-” Steve stammered. His heart lifting up as if it was flying. “She feels the same way?” 

  “Yes! Literally everyone can see it!” Dustin cried, shoving Steve. This time, Steve got up, striding towards Y/n’s room with new found confidence. Knocking twice, he heard her yell for him to come in over the pounding music. Opening the door, he slipped in, closing it behind him. She rolled on to her back as she entered, lifting herself from the bed, sniffling. Turning her record player down, she shuffled back to the bed, plunking herself down. 

  “What’s up?” She asked, patting her bed beside her. Steve didn’t waste a second to sit beside her, his eyes on her. He didn’t want to lose an ounce of confidence. 

  “You know, Jessie is an idiot, he didn’t know what he had and he really doesn’t deserve your tears, Y/n.” He told her, his finger swiping gently under her eye to collect a salty tear clouded with some mascara, making it turn back. She let out a small, wet chuckle, wiping her eyes herself. 

  “I said the exact same thing to myself as I drove home,” She told him, her hands folding in her lap. “I guess I’m just crying because of how stupid I feel and how much time I spent on him, god, I should have listened to Dustin! Looking back know, I can see how much of an idiot I am.” She told him, rolling her eyes at herself. 

  “Hey, hey! You’re not the idiot here. He is for letting such a beautiful, smart, funny and insanely hot girl like you go for a quick fuck by Josslyn Anderson, who cannot hold a candle to you.” Steve told her, slinging an arm around her shoulders. She looked at him, confused, but the second her eyes connected with his, it was like it all made sense. It all made sense why she found Jessie cheating, why she was pulled to Jessie in the first place. It was all part of her journey back to Steve. It was like she didn’t even leave him. Steve was always there, he was just blocked by trash. 

  “You like me,” She whispered, her eyes flicking around his. Her heart flipped in her chest. “You like me?” She almost couldn’t believe it. 

  “Is it that obvious? I mean, Dustin found out like forever ago and apparently everyone else knew to-” His rambling was cut off by her. 

  “I like you to, Steve,” She told him. “All of this happening tonight, the night where you were here, it was all because I’m meant to be with you, Steve.” Steve could’ve sworn he was going to pass out right then and there. His heart was beating so fast that he was sure he was having a heart attack. 

  Steve didn’t waste a second to tackle her to her bed, his body between her legs as he stared down at her with warm eyes. “So, if I like you and you like me, can I kiss you?” He smiled down at her, inching his face down towards hers. She giggled, her tears and sadness long gone. 

  “If you didn’t I would be pretty mad,” That was enough of an answer for him, making him crash his lips to hers, his head angled, their lips meeting in a sweet, lingering kiss before pulling away, goofy smiled on both their faces. “If it’s okay with you, could we take this relationship slow? I want to treasure everything about this - and I also just broke up with someone and I don’t want to be that person who goes from one relationship to another in a matter of a few minutes.” 

  “Slow? Oh, I can do slow! I was so slow courting you, you didn’t even know I was courting you until now.” Steve smiled as he pipped his head down, pecking her lips sweetly. She laughed at his statement. 

  “But, not too slow! Don’t take twenty dates to ask me to be your girlfriend.” She teased, faking a warning face. 

  “How about no dates,” He asked, pausing to sit beside her instead of laying between her legs. “Y/n Henderson, will you be my girlfriend?” He asked her, almost dramatically. She laughed at his antics, but nodded her head. 

  “Yes, of course, Steve Harrington.” She smiled. 

  “Well, as a first date, would you like to go watch the rest of a movie with your younger brother?” Steve invited her, nodding his head towards her closed door. She hummed, smiling. 

  “Just let me wipe my makeup off and change into something comfy, I want to rip this uncomfortable dress and tights off of my body so badly.” She told him, scratching her legs where the black tights itched her legs horribly. Steve laughed, nodding. 

  “Fair enough, I’ll get popcorn,” Steve told her, scooting off her bed. “Don’t take too long, I don’t know how long I can fend Dustin off of the popcorn for.” 

[faqblog89]

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[sugasgrowl]

The Positive [Prologue]

Hello all! I am finally back from the dead after literally writing this on a whim. My other wips are sobbing in Google docs rn. But alas, I’m starting my period and am emotional and soft for dad!bts. This is by no means a super original concept whatsoever, but I just *clenches fist* needed to write it. This is the beginning of a drabble series that I assume will show the OC and Tae go from estranged friends/a one night stand to parents. Basically, I just wanted an excuse to write Tae with kids. I have no idea how long this will end up being LMFAO.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: ?? Friends to lovers? Manwhore to upstanding father? Sorta smutty eventually? There will be angst

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, Taehyung is a fuckboy but at least he owns it, Get it Sandra, mentions of hangovers

Word Count: 1513

+++

Your brain felt like mush. Like when you were a kid and twisted your swing up just to lift your feet off the ground and spin around and around and around and the world was tilting and swaying before your eyes. The sweltering heat of the soft bed you lay on made your mouth feel just as sweaty as underneath your tits. 

In your barely-alive state, flashes of the night before flickered in your mind. A beautiful face catching in the glare of neon lights. Thumping bass rattling your lungs as you pressed your body against his. Deep kisses that took your breath away, tongues that slid against each other. A warm, eager mouth desperate to explore every inch of you. Burning, honey skin whose heat relaxed you more than the alcohol. And then...pleasure. Mind blowing, blinding white lights bursting behind your eyelids. A fullness you’d never felt before.

You really regretted drinking tequila last night. 

Squirming out from under the heavy down comforter, cool air hit your face. The room around you was dreary gray from the pouring rain--piles of dirty clothes towering in the desk chair and on top of the dresser at the other side of the room barely visible in the overcast veil. Through the blurry grog of sleep, you, unfortunately, could make out the sight of multiple beer and Mountain Dew bottles, as well as an old greasy pizza box. A gaming chair and monitor. Anime posters adorned the walls. You already regretted the decision to choose dick over standards, but it’d just been so long. 

The warm body beside you shifted with a throaty groan. You froze, praying to sweet angel baby Jesus that he wasn’t awake.

Taehyung. An old friend from college who never quite...left. Mentally, anyway. The two of you graduated years prior. Both of you felt the tickle of The Big Three-Oh breathing down your necks. Most of your friend group had moved on to have at least semi-decent Grown Up jobs, but somehow Tae was stuck in the same mindset he had when you were powering through classes with weak and tired prayers for graduating. 

And somehow, four years later, you thought it would be a good idea to fuck him.

You took a deep breath and slowly, carefully eased out of bed to pull on your clothes. The movement made your lower half ache with memories of the night before. Despite throwing back shots like your life depended on it, you could still remember pretty much everything from the previous night. And what you remembered was...fantastic, to put it frankly. Not that you were surprised. Taehyung was a good lay, based on what you heard from most of the girls in your dorm back in the day. 

Tugging your jeans up your legs, you decided that sleeping with your fuckboy friend was not the lowest or most shameful thing that had happened to you. You had been forced to move back home just a few months before, after you quite literally caught your ex in bed with another woman and left his ass in the dream city you’d both run off to to possibly start a life together. This was just a step to climb up from rock bottom. 

“You’re not sneaking off, are you?” Taehyung’s deep voice made you jump.

Half closed, chocolate eyes pinned you to the spot. You wished he didn’t look so damn good. If he was less attractive, you’d be less likely to let this happen again in the future. 

You sent him a small smile. “I...yeah, I gotta run. I’ve got a lot of work to do before Monday.”

He sat up on his elbow and ran a hand through his tousled, inky black locks. “You don’t have to leave yet, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re friends, we can get breakfast and catch up or something.”

You almost turned him down when you realized the nearest bus station going to the club where the two of you met, where you left your car, was a solid sixteen blocks away. It was raining out, and you had no umbrella. Not to mention, your monster of a debilitating hangover craved food. 

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you nodded and sent him a polite smile. “That would be nice, actually. Thanks.”

He drove you to a diner down the street where the food smelled like old grease and thin wallets, and on top of that, there was the lingering aroma of cigarettes despite the no smoking signs plastered and faded all over the smudged glass door. The waitress, Sandra, looked to be about forty. Maybe forty-five. Hell, maybe even fifty. Her pencil thin Pamela Anderson eyebrows and premature aging said that her glory days died in the early 2000s. 

When she came over to take your order, her voice croaked with decades of smoking. Her exhausted expression lightened when she spoke to Taehyung. “G’morning, sweetie. You look handsome as ever this morning.”

His boxy grin lit up the sagging establishment. “Not as beautiful as you, Sandra. Busy shift?”

“Eh. It was busier around four.” She gave you a quick glance and winked at Taehyung. “Your usual Morning After order?”

He flushed to his hairline and avoided your eyes. “I….um….yeah, thanks.”

Her dark eyes fell on you. “And for you?”

“I’ll take a Morning After order as well.”

As she walked away, you slowly turned to raise your eyebrows at the beet red man across the table from you.

“Listen…”

“Still getting around then, eh?” you teased. You propped your chin in your hand. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

He gave you the finger as Sandra placed cocoas in front of you both. You bit back a snort. He never could drink coffee, even when he was half dead after pulling all nighters--which was rare. 

“I’m living my best life. I don’t need your criticism and stank attitude,” he grumbled before taking a sip from the steaming mug. “I’m balls deep in good pussy. You’re just jealous.”

“Of all your pussies?”

“I haven’t seen you in two and a half years, I don’t know your preferences.” His gaze was warm and lingered as you blew the steam from your mug. “What have you been up to? I never expected to see you around here again. I thought you were some hotshot ballbusting editor off in picture perfect Fairyland or something. What happened to Mark?”

Your expression soured. His name made the cocoa taste spoiled. Lowering the drink to the sticky tabletop, you shrugged. “I’m still a hotshot ballbuster. Just…a single one.”

“Yeah, single enough to fuck me,” he sent a pointed look. “What’d he do to send you my way? I never expected you to ask to meet up like this.”

It seemed there was no escaping the questions. You took a deep breath. “Caught him in bed with someone else.”

He crinkled his nose and shook his head in disappointment. “How cliche. What an ass.”

He took offense to the quirk of your brow. “I may be a manwhore, but I’d never cheat. I just don���t commit at all.”

“How considerate of you.” 

The food was surprisingly good, considering how questionable the diner looked. Maybe it was just your hangover talking, but you couldn’t complain. Especially when Taehyung offered to pay.

You started to protest, but Taehyung waved you off and placed a twenty on the table with a devilish smile. “Don’t worry about it. In honor of your sorrows.”

He paused.

“Plus, I get discounts.”

“Do I want to know how you managed that?”

His smile widened. “Sandra and I have a special bond.”

You blanched, lowering your voice to a hiss. “My god, you’re disgusting. Do you even have standards?!”

“Hey! Sandra is a lovely lady!” he hissed back, sliding out of the booth. He looked over his shoulder with waggling eyebrows. “Besides, you called me last night. I could ask you the same question.”

You hated that he was right, and you hated yourself for calling him up. As charming and undeniably sexy as he was, you suddenly had the urge to fly to the nearest doctor’s office and get tested for every STI known to man. You thought back to your abandoned tinder profile and imagined the upstanding manwhore you could’ve found that at least had a baseline standard for the hoes he pulled. 

When Taehyung drove you back to the club to get your car, an awkward silence fell over the two of you. His run down death trap of a Buick Lesabre slowed to a halt, brakes squeaking mildly. 

He cleared his throat. “Well. This was fun.”

You let out a tense half chuckle. “For sure.”

As you opened your door to leave, he called out to you. 

“Feel free to call me again sometime. We don’t have to wait two and a half years to see each other again.”

You nodded and plastered a smile on your face. But deep down, you vowed never to call him again. At least, not for this. And not for a long, long time. All you wanted was a nap and to put this moment of weakness behind you.

[get-your-fics]

Plaything

Summary: You are Malcolm and Ainsley’s babysitter, but end up getting involved with the father of the Whitly family in unexpected ways.

Pairing: Martin Whitly x reader

Warnings: Cheating, kidnapping, drugging, language, non-con sexual content

A/N: so this has been in my drafts for a while and I don’t think I’ll ever get around to finishing it, so consider this my new year’s eve present to y’all :)

“Coming!”

The voice came from inside the Whitly’s townhouse three seconds after you had rung the doorbell. Footsteps drew closer, and the lock on the front door clicked. The knob twisted before the door pulled open, revealing a man on the other side.

“Hello,” he said in a deep, rumbling baritone. He had brown, curly hair and a full beard. He was wearing a bright red sweater, and he had a welcoming smile on his face that you noticed didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You must be (Y/N).”

You forced a smile on your face. “That’s me.” You reached a hand out to him and hoped he didn’t notice the way you were slightly shaking. You couldn’t help but get a little nervous when meeting new people. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Whitly.”

His blue-green eyes raked over your form up and down as if he was taking all of you in. After a moment, his grin grew wider, and grabbed your outstretched hand. “Please, call me Martin.” You tried to ignore the way the feel of his skin ignited sparks along your nerve endings. “Why don’t you come in?”

You subconsciously mourned the loss of contact when he retracted his hand. He stepped aside and held the door open wider for you. You stepped inside and wandered further into the foyer, gazing up at the crystal chandelier and high walls in admiration. “Wow. You have a really nice home, Mr. Whitly.”

He closed the front door behind him. “Thank you,” he walked closer to you, “and didn't I tell you to call me Martin?” He nudged your shoulder with his elbow and gave you a playful wink. You felt an involuntary blush wash over your cheeks as he called up the stairs, “Ainsley! Malcolm! The babysitter is here!”

You heard the pitter-patter of light footsteps against hardwood before you saw two children appear at the top of the stairs. They flew down the winding staircase in a blur and landed in front of their father at the bottom. One of the children was a girl with long, blonde hair that was slightly mussed. The other was a boy slightly taller than his sister with brown hair like his father’s and bright, blue eyes.

“Kids, meet your babysitter, (Y/N).” Mr. Whitly wrapped his arms around his children’s shoulders. “You listen to her while we’re gone, all right?” They nodded wordlessly, and he ruffled their hair with a chuckle.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” You swiveled your head to see a woman rushing down the stairs, her stilettos clicking against the hardwood. She finished putting her other earring in as she came to a stop next to Mr. Whitly. “Sorry I’m late, dear. You know how long it takes me to get ready.”

She flipped her glossy, chestnut brown hair over her shoulder, and it cascaded down her back in elegant waves. You assumed this must be his wife. She was extremely beautiful and had a regal air about her. “Mrs. Whitly, it’s nice to meet you,” you stammered out and held your hand out to her.

She glanced at you before draping her hand in yours. “You, too.” She gave your hand a single shake before drawing hers away. She turned to her husband. “Really, darling, we must get going if we want to make it to the banquet on time.”

“I wonder who’s fault that would be,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes only you caught. You stifled a giggle. “You go ahead and get in the car, dear. I have to give (Y/N) a few instructions first.”

She let out a sigh. “All right.” She gave each of her children a kiss on their head before exiting the townhouse, leaving a cloud of Chanel perfume in her wake.

“Here’s some money in case you want to order a pizza later.” Mr. Whitly dug out his wallet from his pocket and handed you a crisp twenty dollar bill. “They should both be in bed by nine o’ clock.” He put a hand on your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Thanks for agreeing to watch them for us.”

He smiled at you, and you felt like you were glowing under his touch. “No problem.” You gave him a small smile back. You didn’t know why you were reacting to him in this way, but he was so handsome, you couldn’t help it.

He patted your shoulder before turning to his children. “Be good for (Y/N) while we’re gone, okay?” He kissed the top of their heads before giving you a final wave goodbye. You waved back, and he followed after his wife out the door.

You watched the headlights of the Whitly’s car pass over the windows as it drove away. Then, you turned to the two Whitly children who stood stock still at the bottom of the steps. You bent down so you were eye level with them. “So...” you smiled at them. “Who wants pizza?”

The Whitly children were rather surprisingly easy to deal with. Ainsley was a little demanding, dragging you around by your hand to play dolls or stuffed animals with her. Malcom was more guarded and reserved. He had this haunted look in his large, round eyes, like he had seen too much, more than he let on.

When you put the kids to bed on time, you still had a while before the Whitly parents were due home, so you retired to the living room. You laid down on the couch and turned on the tv, flipping to some random channel playing a movie. The blue light from the screen washed over you as your eyes started to flutter closed.

Next thing you knew, there was a hand on your shoulder shaking you and a deep gravelly voice whispering in your ear. “(Y/N), wake up.”

You opened your eyes. The television was off. You blinked rapidly to clear your blurry vision and, through the darkness, you could make out Mr. Whitly’s form hovering above you. “Oh, Mr. Whitly,” you murmured, your voice groggy. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”

“That’s all right.” You thought you felt his hand trail up from your shoulder to caress your cheek, but it could have just been your mind playing tricks on you. “Here’s for babysitting.” He pressed a couple of folded bills into your hand.

“Thank you.” You closed your eyes and stretched your aching limbs. You were all cramped from napping on the couch.

“Do you need a ride home?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, that’s okay. I can walk.”

“Walk? At this time of night?” He looked dismayed. “At least let me get you a taxi.” You nodded, and he stood up. “I’ll go call one now. Can I make you a cup of tea while you wait?”

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Yes, please.”

He smiled. “Great. I’ll be right back.” He retreated to the kitchen, and you felt your cheeks warm. You didn’t want to inconvenience him, but you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to spend a little more time with the man. There was something intriguing about him. You found him undeniably charming, and his presence was so warm and comforting.

“Leave,” a voice drew you out of your thoughts, and you whipped your head around to find where it was coming from. You spotted Malcolm standing in the archway leading to the foyer dressed in his blue striped pajamas, a blanket wrapped around his small frame.

“Malcolm?” You furrowed your brow. “What are you still doing awake?”

“Don’t drink it,” he urged you in a hushed whisper. Before you could question him further, the sound of approaching footsteps made his clear blue eyes go wide. He whirled around and dashed back up the stairs the way he came as quiet as a mouse.

A second later, Mr. Whitly returned with a steaming cup of tea in his hands. “Be careful, it’s hot,” he warned you as he set the cup down on the coffee table in front of you.

“Thank you.” You stared down at the murky, brown liquid in the cup before looking up at him. “Did you call a taxi?”

He folded his hands in front of him and nodded. “It’ll be here in ten minutes.” He jutted his chin out in the direction of the cup on the table. “Aren’t you going to drink your tea?”

You looked back down at the cup, curls of steam rising off of the surface and floating into the air. You didn’t want to be rude, and Malcolm was probably just trying to play a joke on you. But when you lifted the cup to your lips and took a sip, you swore the grin on his face grew wider and his cerulean eyes turned dark. You set the cup down and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, looking up at him with a smile.

“Good girl,” he nearly purred, sending shivers down your spine. He drew closer to you as your vision became fuzzy, his eyes as black as a shark’s when it smelled blood. You felt like you were being sucked into a blackhole, and you gave in as gray dots blurred your vision.

The last thing you saw before you were completely swallowed by darkness was Mr. Whitly’s menacing grin sharper than a knife.

-

Falling. You were falling. You were falling down a long, winding rabbit hole. Your eyes were closed, and swirls of bright light lit up the veins running along your eyelids. You couldn’t move. Your limbs were numb, but it felt like every inch of your skin was draped in warmth. Then, the gray gave way to a blinding light above you searing your eyes.

You winced. “Turn it off,” you groaned. “Turn it off.”

The light moved out of your eyes, and you blinked to see Mr. Whitly hovering above you. His lips lifted into a wide smile when he saw you. “Finally. You’re awake.”

You frowned. “The sun. It’s too bright.” Your words were slurred, the vowels and consonants running together until you were barely intelligible.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. You’re all right.” He reached out a hand and brushed some stray strands of hair out of your face.

You tried to move your arms, but couldn’t. You looked up to see rope looped around your wrists. You tried your legs next, but same thing. You looked down to see you were restrained to a metal table and your form was completely bare.

You looked back up at him. “I’m naked.”

He laughed and hummed. “Yes, you are.”

You furrowed your brow, but your muscles felt like they were made of molasses. Your mind tried to form a coherent thought, but it felt like your head was stuffed with cotton. You leaned back against the table and groaned. “My head hurts.”

“I’m sorry, dear. It’s probably a side effect of the drugs I put in your tea.” He corners of his lips turned downwards, but his expression didn’t match the twinkle in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, really. I was just going to let you do your job and go. But when I saw you standing on my doorstep, so innocent and naive, I just couldn’t resist.” He brushed his thumb over your lower lip and stared down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes. “I had to make you my new plaything.”

Your lips parted, and his thumb slipped into your mouth. Without realizing what you were doing, you swirled your tongue around the pad of his finger. You closed your lips around his thumb and sucked. He watched you, entranced, before removing his appendage from your mouth with a pop. You let out a high-pitched whine.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, never taking his eyes away from you. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. “I am sorry, (Y/N).” He slid down your body as your vision blurred. “But I’m not sorry about what comes next.”

[horansqueen]

AM Conversations : chapter 43

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34 || CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40 || CHAPTER 41 || CHAPTER 42

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- if you want to be notified when this is updated, please message me or leave a comment!

- you can send me questions and theories and comments. tbh they all make me SO SO SO SOOOO HAPPY! and make me want to write more! you can also tell me if there are things you WANT to happen. you never know, i may add it :P

- note for this chapter: i wanted to post this chapter quickly because it followed the other. but i promise a LOT of fluff in the next few chapters!!! super super fluff with lots of love and affection!! :D

no request for this chapter but I promise a few in the next!

Chapter 43 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

I was exhausted when everyone left and we both walked to Niall's room slowly without sharing a word. I got undressed and put a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt on and when I turned around, I realized he was doing the same thing, jumping slightly to pull his pants up.

"Can I ask you something random?" he wondered, without looking at me.

The fact that his eyes wouldn't meet mine made me frown and I just licked my lips, shrugging a shoulder.

"You can ask me anything, you know it."

I kept looking at him but he was just standing on his side, looking at the wall in front of him as he put his shirt on and I felt my heartbeats accelerate. I didn't know what he wanted to ask, and I didn't know why he was avoiding my gaze, but it started stressing me. He cleared his throat and looked down at his wrist as he took his watch off.

"While I was gone did you... I mean, you spent a lot of time with Louis so I was wondering if you had... thought about him in a... sexual way."

My lips parted in shock as I kept staring at my boyfriend. I probably remained quiet for a bit too long because he finally turned to me, his eyes meeting mine.

"So?"

"Why would you ask me that?" I frowned more, wondering where exactly that came from.

"And why won't you answer?"

Something instantly seemed to click inside me and my traits softened as my heart twisted in my chest. I took a step closer and shook my head lightly as he kept looking at me. I didn't want to have this discussion. I was tired, a bit sad because of all the comments I had read online about me and the last thing I needed were those kinds of questions, but I felt like it was deeper than it seemed and it hurt me in a way I couldn't explain.

"You're asking me that because you did... you wanted to fuck someone else when you were gone. Maybe more than one girl, too." I let out so low, watching his face change. "You said you didn't cheat on me but you... you wanted to do it."

"Okay so I thought about shagging one random girl after being away from you for weeks, it means nothing!" he quickly let out, his voice a bit louder than I expected. "But you! You thought about one of my best mates fucking you! Maybe even here! In my house!"

"I never said I thought about him like that!" I argued, raising my voice too and taking a step forward. "You know I love you!"

"This is not about love! It's about sex!"

"You said it was linked!" I let out, almost screaming. His face changed again and I could swear I read guilt all over it. I swallowed hard and my voice got back to a normal tone. "Remember?  You said it's normally not linked but that this relationship was different."

"Did you or did you not think about Louis like that?" he asked again, ignoring my comment.

I blinked a few times, trying to remember the feelings and thoughts i may have had when I spent time with Louis but to me, it was ridiculous.

"Does it make you feel better?" I asked, shaking my head a bit, not believing we were having this discussion. "Would it make you feel better to know you're not the only one who wanted to fuck someone else? So you can stop feeling guilty for flirting with that girl in an other country while I was here waiting for you to call?"

"You're avoiding my question!" he said in an angry tone, making me frown.

"No! My answer is no!" It took me a few seconds to realize that tears were falling down my cheeks but I didn't know if I was crying of pain or anger. "You're alone in that, Niall! So that bad guilty feeling eating you up? You fucking deserve it!"

I was expecting him to scream back at me but I was hoping he'd apologize. He did neither. He stared at me for a few seconds and finally grabbed his wallet next to the bed and walked past me. I wanted to run after him but I felt paralyzed and it's only when I heard the front door slam that I breathed in, realizing I had stopped. I felt my legs wobble and sat on the bed, swallowing my pain and closing my eyes. I felt like shit for the argument we just had but at the same time, I was too hurt to try and solve it. Did Niall really think about an other girl? I knew it was normal to lust other people to some extent but that didn't mean it didn't hurt... How could he lust someone else so soon in this relationship? Could we blame that on the distance? I rubbed my eyes a few times but couldn't hold it anymore and started crying.

I lied down in bed and wrapped the covers over myself, rubbing my face on the pillow. I suddenly realized that it would always feel like that and that I'd always be scared of what could happen. The self-confidence I didn't have was going to hurt me and ruin my relationship. Niall hadn't done anything but I was crying as if he had and I couldn't control the tears. I wanted to text him to come back but if I wanted to be honest with myself, I knew it was okay to be away from each other for a few hours.

I cried myself to sleep and when I woke up, I realized it was still the middle of the night. I heard Niall drop his keys on the coffee table in the living room and sat up, rubbing my eyes.

"Stupid couch!" he tried to whisper, mumbling his words.

I held my breath when I realized he had drank and felt my heart twist in my chest. I knew that having an other discussion at that moment would be bad and I just lied back down and closed my eyes, waiting for him to walk in. He eventually did and it didn't take him long to get under the covers with me. I tried to keep my tears in but the fact that he lied down with his back facing me hurt me even more than I already was. I waited until my eyes got used to the darkness and stared at the back of his nape, doing everything I could not to bring my hand to his hair. I was not mad at him anymore, just hurt and sad, and when he started snoring lightly, I moved close enough to him to feel the warmth of his body emanate on mine. Slowly, I brought my face closer and pressed my lips gently on his neck.

"I love you, Niall." I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Goodnight."

                                                          -----

When I woke up the next day it took me a few seconds to remember the fight we had the night before. I reached in bed, running my hand on the cold and soft sheets, only to realize Niall wasn't in bed anymore. I felt my heart hurt and I sighed before opening my eyes and staring up at the ceiling. Niall and I rarely fought and if i wanted to be honest, everything had happened so quickly that I wasn't sure what exactly went on. When he read the mean comments online, he made it clear that it was not what he thought of me and only a few hours later, he accused me to have impure thoughts for his friend. He didn't admit it but I knew he had wanted to have sex with girls he met during his trip and even if it hurt like hell, I knew it was not a reason to fight. Niall had always been popular, whether it was just around our small town, or around the world, and he was never really the kind of guy to get into steady relationships. He did have a few but in the end, he always seemed happier when he was single. The truth was, I wanted to be the exception. I wanted to be the girl who would make it all worth it.

I got up and shivered, feeling goosebumps appear all over my body. I searched through his stuff and found one of his sweaters, quickly putting it on. As soon as I opened the door, I smelled coffee and walked quickly until the kitchen. He was there, his back facing me as he cleaned the mess we had left the night before with our friends. I noticed a cup of steaming coffee waiting for me on the island and pressed my lips together as I walked closer. It was my favorite mug and it made me smile. I glanced up but he was still not looking at me even if I knew he heard me and could feel my presence. I took a few sips as he brought the dirty dishes on the counter and started filling the sink. I didn't say anything, I just walked up to him and he moved away, giving me space. I put myself in front of the sink and started adding soap in it as it filled. There was clearly too much foam and I finally heard his voice for the first time this morning.

"Maybe you put too much soap, don't you think?"

His words made my heart jump in my chest as I thought about the last time he said that to me. We normally put the dishes in the dishwasher and I couldn't help but think he did that on purpose, just to remind me of that time at the lodge. I felt my lips curl and I chuckled low, grabbing foam with my hand and turning his way before blowing on it.

"You're gonna pay for that." he had talked low and gently and I suspected it was more to make that memory live again than out of annoyance.

I laughed and turned around, leaning my ass against the sink. He took a step my way slowly, pressing his body against mine as I looked up. I didn't say anything when he brought his hand from behind my back only to wipe foam on my nose but my smile got bigger and I raised my nose up in an amused grimace.

"Is that the best you can do?" I asked low, slowly taking the foam off.

He shook his head, a smile on his face, and finally bent down to press his lips against mine. I waited until he deepened the kiss and just closed my eyes, letting him lead. He tasted like coffee and I just enjoyed the way his tongue moved against mine. No one had ever kissed me the way Niall did. At first, I thought it was simply because of the feelings I had for him but with time, I realized it was more than that. We didn't just kiss like lovers, we kissed like lovers who have known each other for decades, and it made a huge difference.

"I love you so much, petal." he breathed in my mouth. "I'm so sorry for last night."

Instead to answer, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him deeper. We remained like that for a while but he finally pulled away slightly and leaned his forehead against mine as his hands reached my waist. He led me back until an other part of the counter, exactly where I was sitting the night before, and helped me sit on it again.

"Do you forgive me?" he asked, trying to pull on my sweatpants as I stared at him.

I didn't know if he apologized for the fight or for the fact that he wanted to have sex with someone else but in the end, it didn't matter. I nodded slowly, looking back in his eyes, and moved my butt up to let him pull my pants down. His lips reached for my neck and after only a few seconds, he got down on his knees and my lips parted in surprise. His lips brushed on my thighs and I held my breath until he pressed them on my pussy. Skillfully, his tongue slid inside me and I shut my eyes tight.

"Fuck."

This is not what I had expected my morning to be like. I thought we'd have a discussion or that we'd fight again, but I honestly didn't think i'd end up sitting on the kitchen's counter with Niall's face between my legs, not that I was complaining. We had spent many days just us two, making love whenever we wanted, after he came back, but I could never get too much of his lips wrapped around my clit.

"Oh god don't stop, i'm gonna cum."

I brought my hand to his hair and gripped it gently as I ground my hips against his mouth until I reached an orgasm. It spread all over me and I started shaking but I felt Niall's hand holding my knees apart as he stayed between my legs until my whole body relaxed. My eyes fluttered open and he got up. I smiled when I noticed his lips glistening from my orgasm and grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him closer.

"How bad do you want to be inside me?" I whispered, rubbing my parted lips against his wet ones.

He didn't answer, he just smiled and I glanced down only to see him pull his sweatpants down his ass.

"Do you think the table can support my weight?" I asked with a smirk before chuckling.

I didn't wait for his answer and got off the counter to reach the table. I sat on it and felt his hands run on my thighs and up my waist, grabbing the bottom of my sweatshirt and pulling it off for me and letting it fall on the floor. He kissed me softly, running one of his hands between my breasts and pushing me gently. I lied down and sent him a smile as his eyes roamed on my naked body. Quickly, I watched him grab the back of his shirt to take it off and he moved closer to the table.

"I want you so fucking bad." he admitted in a whisper. "I want no one else. Just you. All of you."

I swallowed my tears and smiled at him fondly, watching him through my eyelashes. I could feel his hard cock press on my pussy, his tip gliding easily on my clit and making my legs tense.

"Then take me, i'm all yours." I murmured back. "I've always been yours."

He moved away slightly only to push himself very slowly inside me, his eyes never leaving mine. I tried to focus on how well he filled me and how our bodies always seemed to fit perfectly but I cared more about the way he was looking at me... like I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen... like I was the only girl worth looking at. I didn't know why he was looking at me like that and I was well aware that he had met girls a million times prettier, and seen girls naked with perfect bodies... but in that very moment, because of the way he was looking at me, I felt like I beat all of them.

"Oh my god." I whispered when he was completely inside me.

I pressed my lips together and he remained still. I could feel myself throb around his cock but I tried not to move as his hands traveled on my breasts and stomach gently. I didn't want to feel self-conscious, I just wanted to enjoy this moment and live it plenty. Slowly, he bent closer and his lips reached mine. I kept my arms on each side of my head and felt his hands travel on them before reaching my fingers and gripping them. He moved his hips slightly back before pushing himself inside me again and it made me whimper.

"I love you so much, you feel so fucking good." he whispered again, taking my upper lip between his and sucking on it gently. "You're so fucking wet, warm and tight." he added just as low. "And beautiful."

Despite his warm body over me, I shivered and gripped his fingers tighter. His lips ran very slowly until my neck and I turned my head to give him a better access. I felt his teeth nibble my skin before he dropped a few kisses on the same spots.

"Please, Niall..." I whimpered in a begging tone.

He brought his lips back on mine and kissed me, making a vestige of my orgasm transfer on my own taste buds, but he finally got back up, gripping my thighs, his fingers sinking in my skin. He started thrusting in and out of me slowly at first but more vigorously after a while and I let my own hands run on my breasts as he stared at my movements. He looked down only to see his cock move in and out of me and finally let go of one of my thighs to lick his thumb and bring it between my legs. I twitched and moaned louder when he started rubbing my clit with it.

"Fuck, you're so wet."

He didn't even look up in my eyes, he just stared at his thumb brushing on my clit as he fucked me harder, making my body jerk and throb more and more.

"I can feel you clench around me, you're close pet, aren't you?"

When his eyes met mine, I nodded so quickly that a smirk appeared on his face.

"Cum for me."

That's all it took for me to reach my peak for the second time.

"Oh my god, f-fuck, Niall!" I closed my eyes tight and I started shaking uncontrollably as he kept fucking me and rubbing my clit through my orgasm. "Niall!"

"Fuck i can't-"

Swiftly, he moved his cock out of me and jerked himself a few times before spurting on my lower stomach. My lips parted again as I watching him cum on me and my heart skipped a beat when I saw him push his cock back inside me, cumming some more in my pussy. The thought was so hot I started shaking again as he fucked me a couple more times.

"Fuck, i'm sorry." he whispered, laying his chest back on mine and burring his face in my neck. "You just feel so fucking good around me, I wanted to feel it for a few more seconds."

I didn't answer but his words made me smile and I brought my arms around him, letting my fingertips brush on his back slowly. We stayed quiet for a few minutes and after a while, I just licked my lips.

"Yesterday, you called me 'honey'" I let out, biting my bottom lip. "That's also the safe word you picked when we went on that double date."

There was no question in my sentence but I knew he understood when he chuckled against my neck.

"You smell like a mix of honey and vanilla." he explained, leaving a kiss on my skin. "I only noticed that a few days after we came back from tour but it sort of obsessed me."

My lips curled into an amused smile and I chuckled.

"I obsessed you?"

"Yea, and you still do." he admitted. "And not just sexually."

I smiled even more, liking the fact that he answered my question before I even had time to ask him. A lot of thoughts started running in my mind and my smile died slowly as I thought about the night before.

"You left to go drink last night, did you?"

I heard him sigh and he moved away a bit to be able to look in my eyes. My gaze roamed on his face and I could see how guilty he felt. I knew it was a bad moment to go through, but we had to talk about it.

"Yea, and i'm sorry. I was scared to make things worse and... you were right. I felt guilty as shit." he confessed, looking down but quickly looking back up in my eyes. "I did lust a girl on that trip. It lasted half a second, if even, and I hated myself for it. Then I started thinking that maybe you lusted someone else too. I mean if I did, then why couldn't you, you know? When I saw how close you and Louis became while I was gone... I lost it."

I didn't talk, I couldn't talk. I just looked intensely at him, trying to keep my tears in. I knew that if I talked, my voice would crack, so I just pressed my lips together and waited

"That night, I ran back to the motel in the rain and waited for your call alone in a disgusting and dark room... and it hit me so hard to realize that life was still going on while I was gone. The world kept turning, the sun kept shining, and someone else was there to make you laugh, to bring you places, to have conversations with you at night. And that person was not me."

I brought one of my hands to his face, brushing my thumb slowly on his cheek, right under his eye. He was so handsome, so fucking beautiful, and the confession he was telling me made me realize that he loved me more than I thought he did, even if he made mistakes, sometimes, the way I did too.

"I was so jealous. I still am. I'm so fucking jealous and i'm not used to it. I don't know how to handle it, or what to do with it. It makes my insides burn so bad. I mean I know it's not rational, and I do trust in you it's just..."

He shook his head with a grimace and I knew exactly how he felt.

"It's okay, I get it." I let out in a low tone.

He blinked a few times, his gaze falling on my lips as I nibbled on my bottom one without really realizing it.

"I made you feel like that a lot, didn't I?" he asked as I nodded. "And I bet I will again without even wanting to."

"Probably." I murmured. "You're always around beautiful girls. And everyone loves you."

"It doesn't matter who else loves me, Olivia." he pointed out, the left corner of his lips moving up. "I only love you. No one else. Focus on that."

I knew that at some point, Niall would start writing songs again. I knew he'd record an album, I knew he'd go on tour, I knew he'd meet tons of girls, go to galas, make collaborations and concerts... I knew that many girls would flirt with him and try to get a piece of him, even if they'd know he was taken, and i'd have to be strong or it would kill me.

"Do you promise to always be honest with me?"

"I thought you'd make me promise to always be faithful to you." he raised his eyebrows in surprise and I just sighed.

"Can you really promise me that?" I said with a shrug, looking away. "Do you think you could really keep that promise?"

"Hey, hey..." he said a little louder, trying to get my attention. I held my breath and looked back in his eyes. "Yes, I can keep that promise. I promise to always be faithful to you, and I promise to always be honest with you. On my life, Olivia, I swear."

I didn't know why, but his words made me feel better. I emptied my lungs and sent him a small and fond smile.

"I promise you the same."

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

February 4, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

Today Senator Mitt Romney (R-UT) proposed giving at least $3000 annually per child to American families. This suggestion is coming from a man who, when he ran as the Republican candidate for president in 2012, famously echoed what was then Republican orthodoxy. He was caught on tape saying that “there are 47 percent of the people who… are dependent upon government, who believe that they are victims, who believe that government has a responsibility to care for them, who believe that they are entitled to health care, to food, to housing, to you name it.”

Romney’s proposal indicates the political tide has turned away from the Republicans. Since the 1980s, they have insisted that the government must be starved, dismissing as “socialism” Democrats’ conviction that the government has a role to play in stabilizing the economy and society.

And yet, that idea, which is in line with traditional conservatism, was part of the founding ideology of the Republican Party in the 1850s. It was also the governing ideology of Romney’s father, George Romney, who served as governor of Michigan from 1963 to 1969, where he oversaw the state’s first income tax, and as the secretary of Housing and Urban Development under President Richard Nixon, where he tried to increase housing for the poor and desegregate the suburbs. It was also at the heart of Romney’s own record in Massachusetts, where as governor from 2003 to 2007, he ushered in the near-universal health care system on which the Affordable Care Act was based.

But in the 1990s, Republican leadership purged from the party any lawmakers who embraced traditional Republicanism, demanding absolutely loyalty to the idea of cutting taxes and government to free up individual enterprise. By 2012, Romney had to run from his record, including his major health care victory in Massachusetts. Now, just a decade later, he has returned to the ideas behind it.

Why?

First, and most important, President Joe Biden has hit the ground running, establishing a momentum that looks much like that of Democratic President Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1933. Roosevelt had behind him stronger majorities than Biden’s, but both took office facing economic crises—and, in Biden’s case, a pandemic as well, along with the climate crisis--and set out immediately to address them.

Like FDR, Biden has established the direction of his administration through executive actions: he is just behind FDR’s cracking pace. Biden arrived in the Oval Office with a sheaf of carefully crafted executive actions that put in place policies that voters wanted: spurring job creation, feeding children, rejoining the World Health Organization, pursuing tax cheats, ending the transgender ban in the military, and reestablishing ties to the nation’s traditional allies. Once Biden had a Democratic Senate as well as a House—those two Georgia Senate seats were huge—he was free to ask for a big relief package for those suffering in the pandemic, and now even Senator Joe Manchin (D-WV), who had expressed concern about the package, seems to be on board.

FDR’s momentum increased in part because the Republicans were discredited after the collapse of the economy and as Republican leaders turned up as corrupt. Biden’s momentum, too, is likely gathering steam as the Republicans are increasingly tainted by their association with the January 6 insurrection and the attack on the Capitol, along with the behavior of those who continue to support the former president.

The former president’s own behavior is not helping to polish his image. In their response to the House impeachment brief, Trump’s lawyers made the mistake of focusing not on whether the Senate can try a former president but on what Trump did and did not do. That, of course, makes Trump a witness, and today Jamie Raskin (D-MD), the lead impeachment manager, asked him to testify.

Trumps’ lawyers promptly refused but, evidently anticipating his refusal, Raskin had noted in the invitation that “[i]f you decline this invitation, we reserve any and all rights, including the right to establish at trial that your refusal to testify supports a strong adverse inference regarding your actions (and inaction) on January 6, 2021.” In other words: “Despite his lawyers’ rhetoric, any official accused of inciting armed violence against the government of the United States should welcome the chance to testify openly and honestly—that is, if the official had a defense."

The lack of defense seems to be mounting. This morning, Jason Stanley of Just Security called attention to the film shown at the January 6 rally just after Trump’s lawyer Rudy Giuliani spoke. Stanley explained how it was an explicitly fascist film, designed to show the former president as a strong fascist leader promising to protect Americans against those who are undermining the country: the Jews. Stanley also pointed out that, according to the New York Times, the rally was “a White House production” and that Trump was deeply involved with the details.

Trump’s supporters are not cutting a good figure, either. Today, by a vote of 230-199, the House of Representatives voted to strip new Georgia Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-GA) of her assignments to the Budget Committee and the Education and Labor Committee. It did so after reviewing social media posts in which she embraced political violence and conspiracy theories. This leaves Greene with little to do but to continue to try to gin up media attention and to raise money.

House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy (R-CA) had declined to take action against Greene—although in 2019 he stripped assignments from Steve King (R-IA) for racist comments-- and only eleven Republicans joined the majority. The Republican Party is increasingly associated with the Trump wing, and that association will undoubtedly grow as Democrats press it in advertisements, as they have already begun to do.

McConnell has called for the party’s extremists to be purged out of concern that voters are turning away from the party. Still, the struggle between the two factions might be hard to keep out of the news as the Senate turns to confirmation hearings for Biden’s nominee to head the Department of Justice, Merrick Garland.

Going forward, the attorney general will be responsible for overseeing any prosecutions that come from the attempt to overturn the election, and the Senate Judiciary Committee, which will question Garland, has on it three Republican senators involved in that attempt. Lindsey Graham (R-SC) has been accused by Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger of calling before Trump did to get him to alter the state’s vote count. Senators Ted Cruz (R-TX) and Josh Hawley (R-MO) both joined in challenging the counting of the electoral votes.

It is hard to imagine the other senators at the hearing will not bring the three compromised senators into the discussion. The Republicans have so far refused to schedule Garland’s hearing, although now that the Senate is organized under the Democrats, it will happen soon.

Trump Republicans are betting the former president’s endorsement will win them office in the future. But with social media platforms cracking down on his disinformation, his ability to reach voters is not at all what it used to be, making it easier for members of the other faction to jump ship.

In addition, those echoing Trump’s lies are getting hit in their wallets. Today, the voting systems company Smartmatic sued the Fox News Channel and its personalities Maria Bartiromo, Lou Dobbs, and Jeanine Pirro, along with Giuliani and Trump’s legal advisor Sidney Powell, for at least $2.7 billion in damages for lying about Smartmatic machines in their attempt to overturn the election results.

Republicans rejecting the Trump takeover of the party are increasingly outspoken. Not only has Romney called for a measure that echoes Biden’s emphasis on supporting children and families, but also Senator Ben Sasse (R-NE) today released a video attacking the leaders of his state’s Republican Party after hearing that they planned to censure him for speaking out against the former president.

“If that president were a Democrat, we both know how you’d respond. But, because he had ‘Republican’ behind his name, you’re defending him,” Sasse said. “Something has definitely changed over the last four years … but it’s not me.”

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[saikostories]

BTS - It’s Okay (Yoongi ft. Jimin)

It’s late afternoon in reality, but there is no time in your nightmare. You’re trembling, on the edge of your seat on the sofa (you wish you could sink through the crack of the two cushions, but only forgotten tissues - did you use them to soak up your tears, or did he use it while he was under the weather? - are allowed) as words from Webster’s dictionary are strung together to form knife-blades, the crow’s sharp talons, poison in your veins and daring to enter the arteries. A tear slips down your cheek in your fear, your hatred, your hopelessness.

“You’re worthless, I can’t believe you act like this despite everything I do for you,” he spits out, anger drawing his eyebrows upwards and the corners of his lips down. You used to love kissing those lips until he started using them to insult you, to transform you from someone with potential to someone without, to hurt you. And you used to love his hands, so warm and welcoming before, but now they inflict pain on your skin, they touch you in a way that reminds you that you are his (as if you were a mere sheep following your owner). “I let you live here, I let you depend on me, and this is all the shit I get in return.” The hands on his waist tighten and he looks off to another direction, an invisible steam rising.

“I’m not blaming you for anything,” you start to say, breaking through the silence. “I just wanted you to know my feelings in our relationship-”

“And I’m letting you be aware of my own!” he yells, his attention snapping back. You recoil and bring your hands to your face, hiding your expression from him. “Yah, did you know you’re such a coward? What are you, just a nothing trying to become something? You’ll never be that.” Words are in his power, they run away when they are discarded, upset at being used for creating your suffering. They float around your mind, become your mind, and they’re whispering to you: Let us help you fight back! You have the ability, too! But you can only think of how they were used, and how they were used at specifically you, and you simply absorb them but do not dare to say it aloud.

You stand up and run to the door, grabbing your shoes and bag and dashing outside, leaving him shouting an infuriated, “Yah! (Y/N)!” behind your fleeing figure. Once in your silver car - you swallow the urge to spit on the black car next to you that is his - you step on the pedal, needing to get away from him and his toxic aura. How could this have ever happened? You start to sob, releasing the tears you tried so hard to hold back but now let them cut rivers into your skin, cleansing you of the venom that had entered your blood through phrases and slaps across your cheeks, scratches on your hands. And you just don’t understand - where have the innocent days of shy handholding and light kisses on the forehead gone to? Where is the sweet-talk and backhugs? Where did it all go?

At the next red stoplight, you shakily dial in a number you need to delete and re-enter over and over again because you aren’t sure if it’s the right one. You hear Jimin’s voice on the third ring. “Ah, (Y/N)! What’s up?” He hears your uncontrollable sniffling and his voice softens. “(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

“No,” you admit, not having enough energy to lie.

You hear Jimin call out Yoongi’s name, and the phone is passed off to the elder. Soon you hear his calm yet worried voice, “Hey, (Y/N).”

“Hello,” you say weakly. You insert the earbuds into the correct places, almost putting the left in the right and the right in the left, a slight mistake in your unstable state of mind. The car behind you honks as you have not moved forward, and you let out a murmured curse word as you start to drive.

“Hey, are you alright?” Yoongi asks. You can hear the frantic beat of a pencil tapping against a surface, speeding up as his worries for you increases. “How about we meet up? All of the others are out, except Jimin, it wouldn’t be a problem.” He knows that you don’t like to interrupt them during their schedules.

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” you say, sniffling.

“Okay. I’ll see you at, ah… Jimin, name a cafe nearby! Ahh, (Y/N)? Let’s meet at Line Friends Cafe, if that’s okay. Jimin has wanted to visit for awhile.” You laugh a little and confirm, then hang up, a small relief blooming over the shadow of your pain at the gratitude you have for these dependable friends. As you enter the cafe’s address into Waze, you don’t notice the familiar black car in the rearview mirror, just three cars behind yours in the left lane…

You find Yoongi taking a photo of Jimin, who is currently posing in front of the Brown statue. He waves as you walk over, and Yoongi turns around, his smile melting into a worried frown. “Take some more photos,” you say, not wanting to tell what had happened just yet. He shrugs and returns to snapping Jimin and his half-hidden face, having bought some matching Cony and Brown facemasks.

Once finished, the three of you make your way to the cafe part of the store, the clean environment helping to clear your mind. You inhale the scent of coffee and the sweetness of special ice-cream sundaes, suddenly craving for some comfort food to distract yourself. Yoongi pulls out his wallet and pays for all of the (expensive) treats while Jimin leads you to the sofas along the wall. You remember your small, shaking figure trembling on the edge of the one at - you cannot call it home anymore - your past-lover reducing you to ashes. At the thought of this, tears spring up at the corners of your eyes and quickly become rain against a windowpane, following the curve of your face.

“Ah, (Y/N),” Jimin says softly, and puts an arm around your shoulder, shaking you gently. You lean closer to him, finding comfort in his familiarity as a friend. He doesn’t know why you’re crying, but he still cares.

Yoongi comes over balancing a tray on each of his forearms, one holding a basket of macarons decorated with Sally and Cony’s distinct cartoonish features, the other with a set of cold drinks complete with the matching characters’ sleeves and a chocolate Brown sundae each. Jimin’s eyes glow with fascination at how delicious everything looks, and slowly removes his arm from around your side as he reaches for the drink. Yoongi quickly snaps some pictures for memories’ sakes and sets his phone aside, the tips of his fingers tapping lightly against his cheek as he rests his head on his hand, staring at you intently (yet those eyes are so soft). “(Y/N), what happened?” he asks quietly.

You bite the inside of your lower lip, averting your gaze to the food laid out before you. What could you say, where could you start? Yoongi knew that your boyfriend (you shudder at such a word, for he doesn’t deserve that title anymore, never did) was, is, abusive to you, as he was the one who tended to your open wounds and bruises when you couldn’t turn to anyone else. He had some sort of idea that it was the one you had gravitated towards in the first place causing all of this pain, but he had supported your decision in trying to reconcile with him each time. Vague interpretations are all he has, as you never elaborated past, “I got it because he hit me.”

“I - I -” You swallow the building bile, then continue. “I was trying to talk to him about how I feel about our relationship a-and he just started yelling, creating his own monologue.” You wipe your tears away harshly, trying to stop crying - why are you wasting tears on him? “And he won’t listen to me at all, he just keeps talking about himself and how he feels, never giving a damn about me.” You spit out these thoughts, suddenly realizing the true power of what words had wanted to aid you through before. “And he hit me again…” Your hand slips up to your cheek, and you feel the sore spot where a bruise is starting to form. It hurts when you apply pressure, a reminder of his dominance over you. “I just - I just -” Tears continue like rainfall, softly.

Yoongi reaches his hand out to yours, placing it above yours and Jimin does the same. The elder squeezes yours gently, staring at you with a little bit of pain, trying to strike a deal with the imaginary genie that he could spend his first wish on taking your pain away, a little anger, pleading with the spirit that his second wish be used to erase this looming shadow in your life, and a little love, whispering his last wish to let you know how much he loves you. For he always has - he loves your laughter and smiles, the personality that makes you unique, he enjoys the ordinary moments with you, and the extraordinary ones (but those don’t come around much). “(Y/N),” he starts, “I think it’s time you left him.” You give a single nod and cease to talk.

“Hey (Y/N), open your mouth!” You turn to your right and Jimin is facing you with a spoonful of chocolate ice cream with a wallop of creme on top. You laugh and obey, and he says grinning, “Here comes the airplane!” You burst into laughter, unable to control the informal hysterics spilling out between your lips as you struggle to keep everything in. Jimin and Yoongi beam, glad to see that you are feeling better, and they continue to pepper you with jokes and ideas for coming vacations and day-offs.

As you wipe the area around your lips with a napkin, your eyes tear away from the faces of your friends for just a moment and your heart stops - you see him. He’s leaning against the wall, the bill of the cap casting shadows over his eyes of fire, burning through you. When the eye contact is made, he pushes himself from off the wall and starts walking towards you, his pace increasing as he comes closer, closer…

“Yah, you little bitch!” You scream as he grabs your wrist, pulling you upright and smacking you across the face. Jimin starts to yell and Yoongi pushes back from his seat, eyes wide with fury. “Who do you think you are, trying to cut me off from your life when I’ve done so much for you? And now you’re cheating on me? With two guys? Ah, jinjaa, you really are something, (Y/N)–” His words cut off as he is pulled away from you by both Yoongi and Jimin. You hear someone alert the employees, and the shuffling of feet can be heard. You collapse on the floor and cry, not able to do anything else.

“You have no right to call someone such names, especially when she isn’t one, you bastard,” Yoongi snarls, holding him at the collar. Jimin has your now-ex’s hands held firmly behind his back as Yoongi continues. “All you’ve done is give her hell, abusing her to no end, degrading her when she’s a hundred, no, a million times better than trash like you. Well let me tell you something, fool,” Yoongi spits out these words and leans closer to his face, his forehead pressing against the rim of the cap as he stares into the icy eyes of your past-lover. “If you ever, ever, do anything to her again, I won’t be held back.” The threat hangs in the air for a moment, and they continue to glare at each other, piercing gazes as sharp as knives not relenting in front of the other. Yoongi releases him with a forceful push, causing him to stumble, and the two Bangtan Boys snort in contempt, firing their worst expressions at him, the living nightmare, who is now led out of the main cafe to the backroom where a police officer will stop by later.

“(Y/N), (Y/N),” Yoongi says softly. You don’t respond, still cowering on the floor, half-underneath the table as you hug your arms around your legs, your hair hiding the view. He turns you toward him gently, removing your hands from your windowpane-face (you’re made of glass, your heart, your soul, your mentality). “He’s gone now, you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” And you let out a quiet sob and bury your face in his chest, and he embraces you, his eyes seemingly cold but the rest of him warm, the home you always want to return to. “It’s okay,” he whispers in your hair. “It’s okay.”

***

It’s been a month since the whole incident has occurred - harsh words transforming into knives burying themselves in your heart and soul and fragile mind, your two confidants taking the time to set you down on a chair amongst the blood and glass and pull them out carefully, wrapping your wounds and whispering comforting words, it’s okay, it’s okay. You have never felt more gratitude than during this hectic period in your life, where you are recovering from an abusive relationship you never understood was poisonous. And you have Min Yoongi and Park Jimin to thank for always being open to take you in their arms, their homes when those of a past lover turned into a birdscage with cold metal bars that seemed to morph into itself, bending into shapes that could hurt you. But they broke through with their bare hands and threw the key away, giving you a new pair of wings to embark on a journey, forever beside them.

You are at Sinsa Station, inhaling Seoul rain and the thought of letting it cleanse you as you stand, still, in its beauty. But a daydream you have had often does not become a reality yet again, and you pass through Exit 8’s door to Garosu-gil Street. There is a map in your mind, one you have etched and redrawn over and over again in the walls of your consciousness: turn left at the shop you used to take an interest to (but not anymore, there’s one just a little further that is filled with memories both good and bad), follow the sidewalk for around nine minutes if you want to take a stroll and enjoy the shop-signs you have become familiar with, seven if there are friends waiting for you. Today you take ten-and-a-half minutes of time from the station to the cafe where you admitted it to both your confidants and yourself, where you unraveled as red strings of fate you never wish were spun snapped suddenly from growing tensions, where they took you back - not to torture you, but to help you grow where you were burned down, to nurture you back to life and make you realize that although some places will always have some sort of nightmare attached to them, they can also be the home of beautiful dreams such as the ones you share with your heroes - Yoongi, Jimin.

Lately, they have been putting all of their efforts to their latest comeback, and all they can spare for you is a quick text between rehearsals or a selca with some edited words on it: How are you? I miss you! Take care of yourself. Did you eat yet? You treasure all of the ones received, gratitude spilling out of your eyes and onto your cheeks. Because how can they think of you in such a chaotic lifestyle like theirs? They don’t work for the music, they are the music, they are choreography and lyrics and different expressions all across the virtual reality. They are everything they thought defined them - but now, they define it.

You approach the Line Friends Store and Cafe, a familiar warmth swelling inside of you as you step into what has become something like a second home. The comfortable, almost childhood-reminiscent scents of the stuffed animals lining the shelves intoxicate the air and take you back in time to past youths. Special coffee roasts and sweet macarons in the cafe further along help your shoulders to relax and your stomach to grumble. Your hand grazes the edge of the wood shelving as you make your way to the cafe you have visited countless times in the past month. Quickly, you purchase a box of Brown chocolate figures and select a combination of Brown and Sally macarons, then adding a cup of hot chocolate with Moon’s face drawn in the froth of creme along with your choices (who can blame you? this was a heaven to anyone, why pass it up?). You sip at the hot beverage as you tap in Jimin’s number, the tips of your fingertips remembering how they are supposed to fly across the screen in order to contact him.

He answers on the second ring. “Eoboseoyo? Ahh, (Y/N)! What’s up?”

You smile at knowing that he is wearing a smile on his own features. “I have some food I can’t finish on my own, can I come over?”

“Yeah, sure! What is it?”

“Macarons and chocolate from Line Cafe -”

“Come over, immediately!” You laugh at his silly interruption and assure him you’ll be over soon. He ends with a delighted can’t-wait-to-see-you and you hang up, wrapping your arms around the cup for warmth and gathering the rest of the boxes together. You can’t wait to see your heroes, knights, saviors, friends again.

You lay out your surprises for them on the table, and the hyung line and maknaes attack with efficiency, carefully opening up the boxes and making sure not to spill any crumbs as they satisfy the starving wolves in their stomachs. Seokjin asks if you want any, but you hold up your hot chocolate and decline (although, you’d like to get your hands on just one if there’s any leftover). You take a macaron and a chocolate piece into a napkin and locate Yoongi, sitting in front of the complicated producing set that he knows like the back of his hand. His headphones prevent him from hearing anything, so you take the chance to shake him gently, startling him. “Yah, who do you think you are-” he starts, turning around angrily then realizing it’s you. His emotions die down and a gummy smile replaces his frown as he turns his chair to face you. “When did you get here?”

You set the napkin down in his hands and say, “Just a couple minutes ago. What are you working on?” You point at the headphones then let your gaze run over all of the controls and knobs and buttons that piece music together.

He shrugs, murmuring a quick thank-you for the food before biting into the Sally macaron. He offers it to you, and you take a small bite, your lips grazing over a bit of his finger. “We’re almost done with the fifth song, I need to add some more background sounds then it should be all good. Want to listen?”

You nod eagerly and he secures the headphones over your ears. Sounds from around you are suddenly muffled, creating a new environment only around your two listening-devices. Your hands slide up to press them against the sides of your head more, so that it doesn’t slip off - but you realize that yours cover his own. He freezes for a moment, and so do you.

He slowly removes his hands and busies himself by pulling up the file, even though you can see it’s right there underneath a couple other windows. But you don’t mention this, only try to memorize his warmth and how quickly it disappeared. A little butterfly flits its wings inside your heart and you tell it to fly away, get away as fast as it can, you still are not cleansed of poison. But it lingers, its wings tickling your tender heart.

Music starts to play, a quiet drumbeat keeping piano arpeggios in rhythm, the lilting voices of the golden maknae ringing in your ears and you close your eyes, sighing in content as lyrics wash over you: You’re a flower in the night, I’ll be the moon you always grow towards like a sunflower turns to the heavenly star, let’s string a wish with red twine to our childhood kites, watch it fly away and not burn up like we are. And you lose yourself in lyrics your heart won’t let go of, the butterfly you endlessly chase leading you further into his world, Yoongi’s world - is it a trap? Like how it was before, in a birdcage you foolishly stumbled in? But his warmth is different, genuine, kind, welcoming. He’s a home you can trust.

And you feel his hands cover yours, the lingering warmth now replenished as it returns. Your eyelids fly open and you find him staring at you (and you swear you have lost yourself in his eyes like you lost yourself in his music). The music comes to a stop and all you hear is silence - the others have left, except for one - Jimin, in the corner. staring at you staring at him staring at you.

He walks over and pulls his hyung’s hands away from you, then wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Was it good, (Y/N)?” he asks eagerly, eyes bright as he looks down at you with a beam. But there is something sharp, like flint or steel, in his eyes. You cannot place what it is. “Did you like the lyrics? I composed them with Yoongi.”

“I think this is the best song yet,” you say, and his grin only widens. He pats your head affectionately and settles down beside you on the floor, his expression changing so suddenly as his attention moves to changing positions.

“You know,” Yoongi says softly. You glance up and his hands are resting in his lap, his fingers playing with the edge of the napkin and his gaze staring intently at the food that he has forgotten about. “I wrote that song - with you, in mind.” Your eyes widen and you see his throat contract as he swallows. His head jerks up and now his gaze is too strong for you and you want to look away but there’s no way you can pull yourself out of a pair of eyes that you have seen display so many emotions - all for you.

Jimin’s face drops a little as he can clearly see something between you to. He had wanted to tell you how he felt. He had wanted to tell you he had written those lyrics with you in mind also. But as you turn to face yoongi, he can’t help but feel like this race to your heart… he was always a little bit behind. “Y/n?” He calls out for you but your eyes stay fixed on yoongi’s. He smiles and nods a little before pushing the chair you’re sitting on slightly towards yoongi. It catches you a bit off guard and when you try to tell him off, he’s gone. Instead it’s just you and yoongi. All of a sudden you feel the small touch of yoongi’s hand on your cheek. It was now or never. He learnt foward and kisses you which you then returned. Of all your life, you never expected anybody else to love you he way he did now. But You guess that dreams can come true.

Especially yours.

[robinskey]

Steve x Nancy’s Childhood Friend! Reader (pt 6)

Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five

A/N: Even if you haven’t read the rest of the series, you can totally read this part! It could pretty much be its own stand-alone one-shot. The series just adds a little more context.

If you have been reading the series, (yay! hi again!), you’ll notice that the formatting is different than usual. I started doing this part in bulleted points, but I decided to go with a more traditional format since this part of the story focuses on one main scene. It’s also a HECKING LONG part (at least for this series-it’s about 3K words), so I’m going to put it under the cut for anyone who doesn’t want to scroll through the whole thing.

Warnings: Swearing

Half an hour later, you and Steve are sitting in a little red booth and squinting at menus in the dim lighting of the diner. Posters and framed pictures line the teal walls, along with colorful neon signs and license plates from just about every state. Elvis Presley croons from the jukebox in the corner of the room. His voice mixes with the sound of feet shuffling across the black-and-white tile as servers bustle between tables. The tantalizing smell of juicy hamburgers lingers in the air, mingling with the sweet, fruity scent of the freshly-baked pie.

Your stomach growls in protest. If the waitress takes much longer to get to the table, you’re going to start slobbering all over the menu.

“What’s good here?” you ask casually.

It’s more of an attempt to make conversation than an actual question. At this point, you don’t care what it is, as long as you get food in your mouth ASAP. Fortunately, Steve assures you that “everything’s good here. You can’t go wrong.”

“Okay,” you say, laying the menu down on the table. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

Steve lowers his menu and raises his eyebrows.

“Are you sure about that? I can eat a lot of food.”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“So can I, asshole.”

That was probably a little harsh.

But if anyone can take it, it’s Steve Harrington.

“Fine, fine,” he sighs.

Over his shoulder, a busty waitress makes her way toward your table.

“But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he says, then proceeds to order half of the items on the entire menu. “And the same for the lady.”

The waitress peers over the top of her cat-eye glasses at the boy in front of her.

“Now, you’re not about to order all this food and then skip out on the bill, are you, Harrington?”

“Now, Janet, have I ever cheated you or this fine establishment?”

The woman’s tight corkscrew curls bounce as she shakes her head gently, the whisper of a smile on her lips.

“Not that I know of. But you’re full of surprises, Steve,” she says, then directs a wink at you.

You’re still staring after Janet when Steve’s voice tears you from your thoughts.

“Don’t mind Janet. She’s a little loony,” Steve says with a roll of his eyes.

“How do you know her, anyway?” you ask, swirling the straw around the glass of water Janet’s just delivered.

“Oh, I’ve been coming here for years. My parents used to take me here after Little League games for a celebratory milkshake when my team won. That stopped around the age of ten, when I finally admitted to my dad that I didn’t actually like baseball, and my mom convinced him to let me quit,” he says, laughing despite himself. “My parents quit coming, but I eat here at least once a week.”

“Yeah?” You’re still staring into the glass as you add, “I guess you bring all the girls here, then, huh?”

“I don’t, actually. I brought Tommy H. and Carol here once, and all they did was complain about the jukebox because they’re assholes with no taste in music,” he says, and his matter-of-fact tone makes you laugh.

“I thought they were your friends?” you ask. You knew he hadn’t been hanging around them much lately, but you figured they still partied together, at the very least.

“Nah. Not anymore. To be perfectly honest with you, I shouldn’t have ever been friends with them,” he says. His tumultuous chocolate eyes meet yours for a microsecond before his gaze flickers to his own drink. “The only person worse than Tommy H. and Carol is ‘King Steve’ Harrington.”

“Was,” you correct him. He looks back up at you for clarification. “‘King Steve’ was the worst. But just because you were a piece of shit in high school doesn’t mean you have to be for the rest of your life. You can change as a person, evolve as a human being-in fact, I think you already have.”

Steve stares at you for several moments longer. His lips finally part, as if he’s about to speak, and-

“Hot stuff coming through!”

The steel kitchen doors swing shut behind Janet, who pushes a metal cart stacked with plates of steaming fried foods across the tile floor. To your surprise, she stops at your booth and unloads the contents of the entire cart onto your table. By the time she’s done, plates cover every square inch of the surface.

“Hope you’re hungry, sweets,” Janet says, throwing another wink your way before disappearing back into the kitchen.

You’re so overwhelmed by the mountain of food in front of you that you completely forget about the conversation you and Steve were just having. Thus, when you notice him still watching you,

you figure it’s because he’s smugly waiting for you to admit that you’ve made a mistake-that there’s no way in hell you can consume even half of this feast.

But you, being the ultra-competitive, incredibly stubborn person you are, refuse to accept defeat without putting up a fight.

“I bet I can eat more of this than you can.”

Steve simply blinks in disbelief.

“Don’t look at me like that. I can. I’ll prove it to you,” you say, picking up a fry and popping it into your mouth. “We can make a little competition out of it. And whoever loses has to pay for everything.”

You reach for another fry, but Steve swats your hand away.

“Stop it. You’re getting a head-start.”

“Oh, a two-fry head-start. Consider me the world’s biggest cheater,” you say, waving your hands in the air mockingly.

Steve uses this opportunity to grab a fistful of fries and shove them into his mouth.

“Hey! That’s not fair, jerk!”

“Fight me,” he says, the words muffled by the food.

You kick him under the table hard enough to give him a dead leg.

“Ow!” he yells, just loud enough to make an older couple at the next table shush you both. Steve glares at you.

“What? I thought we were playing street rules.”

“When have you played this game on the street, Y/N?”

“Shut up.”

It takes a whopping twenty-three minutes for the two of you to polish off the buffet of food. And by the two of you, I mean Steve. You tap out about ten minutes in, after devouring your third plate of greasy goodness. As much as you don’t want to foot the bill for this meal, you definitely don’t want to vomit all over the floor of Steve Harrington’s BMW.

Janet’s not nearly as impressed by Steve’s food feat as one would expect her to be when she returns to check on you. Apparently, this isn’t even the most Steve’s eaten in one sitting. Clearly, you were doomed from the start.

Janet even has the audacity to ask if either of you would like dessert.

You answer with a resounding “no.”

But Steve practically yells, “Hell yes!”

“Mr. Harrington! Language!” Janet says, tsking with her tongue. “What would your mother say?”

“Oh god. Please don’t tell her. She’s already on my ass about college-damn it, sorry! Wait, sorry again, sh-shoot.”

Janet laughs at her flustered customer.

“You want your usual?”

“Of course-”

“Now, wait a second,” you interrupt. “I’m cutting you off, Harrington. Unlike your stomach, my wallet isn’t a bottomless pit.”

A denim-clad knee bumps against yours under the table.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I got this.”

“But the bet-”

“-that I never even agreed to?” he says with a disarming smile that makes it impossible to argue.

“I’m lost. Am I getting you ice-cream or not, baby?” Janet asks.

“Yes, please, Janet. And the bill, whenever you get the chance, so I don’t have to bother you again. I know you’re swamped.”

Janet nods, still half-confused, and wanders into the kitchen.

You glance around the diner. Aside from a group of college students gathered around a corner booth and a couple sharing a banana split at a nearby table, the place is completely vacant.

“Swamped?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at Steve.

“Well, not exactly. But Janet...she takes her time. She’s one of those waitresses who will promise to ‘be right back with the bill’ and then disappear for an hour,” he explains. “I figured you probably have some sort of curfew, so it would be best to avoid that.”

“That was really considerate of you,” you say, and the shock in your tone is probably evident, but Steve doesn’t comment on it. “And speaking of considerate, thank you for paying for dinner. We could have split it or something.”

“Don’t worry about it. I ate most of the food, anyway,” he says. He pauses, then adds, “Besides, it’s a small price to pay to spend an evening with a pretty girl.” 

Thank goodness for the dimness of the lights hanging overhead, because your cheeks are as red as the scarlet booth you’re sitting on. At this point, you’re pretty sure he’s flirting with you. Then again, flirting is Steve Harrington’s main mode of communication, so it probably means nothing. 

You remind yourself of this enough times to finally get your blushing under control-until Janet returns with a tall strawberry milkshake with two bright red straws sticking out the top.

She drops it off at the table and tells you two “lovebirds” to enjoy. Steve’s too interested in the milkshake to notice your coyness. It isn’t until he’s drained a third of the glass that he realizes you haven’t had any.

“Aren’t you going to taste it, Y/N? I ordered the larger size for us to share.” 

“I didn’t want dessert, remember? That’s your milkshake.”

“There’s two straws for a reason.”

“Yeah,” you say, flicking yours toward him. “Use both, and maybe you can give yourself a brain freeze even faster.”

“Come on, Y/N. This is the best shake in town,” Steve pouts.

You swear the strawberry milkshake is turning his lips more pink.

“Fine,” you huff, leaning forward and taking a sip.

A stream of sugary yet slightly tart ice cream flows into your mouth. It’s one of the best things you’ve ever tasted. You’re so distracted by the deliciousness that you  don’t notice Steve bending down for a sip until his lips are curled around his straw, inches from yours. You jolt back so fast that you choke on milkshake. Steve watches with wide eyes as you cough violently into the fold of your arm for a few seconds. Finally, you get your cough attack under control, and Steve asks if you’re okay.

“Yeah,” you say, voice raspy, “it’s just-mm. Too...too sweet for me.”

“Really?” Steve asks, tilting his head slightly in confusion. Then he shrugs and says, “More for me, I guess.”

You watch with secret jealousy as Steve finishes off the glass.

You offer to leave the tip, but Steve insists on covering it.

“My dad would kill me if he knew I let a girl pay for anything.”

“Well, your dad’s not here. And besides, isn’t that a rule for, like, dates or whatever?”

“Not necessarily. It’s just a rule of chivalry.”

He lays a few extra dollars down on the table and gestures for you to lead the way out.

“Steve Harrington: Master of Chivalry,” you tease, elbowing him as you walk past.

On the drive home, Steve cranks the music up and the windows down. The two of you sing along to just about every song. When he doesn’t know the words, Steve makes up ridiculous lyrics that clash terribly with the melody.

You cackle with laughter almost the entire ride home. And when he pulls in your driveway, there’s a part of you that wants to stay in the car forever. You unbuckle your seatbelt, dial down the radio volume, and rotate in your seat to face Steve.

“Thanks for tonight,” you say. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me, too,” he says, beaming so bright that it seems to glow in the dark. “We should do this again sometime.”

“Yeah, we should.”

There’s a pregnant pause, interrupted only by crickets chirping in your yard and an owl hooting somewhere down the street. You look out the car window. Outside, stars are sprinkled across a velvet sky like sparkling confetti, but none shine as brightly as Steve’s eyes as he looks at you

Finally, Steve shatters the silence with a simple offer that comes out as more of a request:

“Can I walk you to your door?”

You can’t stop the giggle from escaping your lips.

“My porch is literally right there, Steve. Nobody’s going to jump out and murder me on my ten-foot trek to the front door.”

“You can never be too safe, Y/N,” he says with the most serious expression he can muster.

“Fine, dork. Walk me to my door,” you laugh.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t force your stomach to digest the butterflies currently swarming around in it.

After approximately eight steps, you’re on your porch, and that nagging feeling of I don’t want to leave you returns. Unfortunately, you know you can’t stay on your front porch forever, so you tell Steve “goodnight” and start to twist the doorknob

“Wait!”

“Yes?” you ask, hand still on the knob.

“Could we talk for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course,” you say. You gesture toward the porch swing.

As soon as the two of you are seated, Steve finds the planks of your porch fascinating. His eyes scan them as if there are letters carved into the wood. He speaks slowly, as though he’s reading those words.

“Do you...do you remember what you said earlier? About...the whole ‘King Steve’ thing?”

You rack your brain for a moment. You eventually recall the conversation at the diner that Janet’s appearance had cut short.

“I don’t remember my words verbatim,” you say, “but yes, I remember the gist of it.”

“You said that just because I was a piece of shit in high school doesn’t mean I have to be one for the rest of my life. You said I can grow and change as a person-that you think I already have changed,” he says. 

“I did,” you say, scooting slightly closer to Steve, “and I stand behind everything I said-except for that last little bit. I don’t think you’ve changed. I know you have.”

Finally, he turns to look at you. His eyes shine with years of regret.

“You really believe that?”

And suddenly, it’s not King Steve sitting on the porch swing on your house. It’s not the idiot who broke your best friend’s heart. It’s not Steve “the Hair” Harrington, whose mane is almost as high and mighty as his attitude.

It’s just Steve-a broken boy yearning to be better.

And that’s when you wrap your arms around his neck for the second time today. This time, you’re much more gentle. Steve only freezes for a millisecond before his arms twine around your waist. It’s been so long since someone’s held him like this, and Steve’s starved for physical contact, so he pulls your body flush against his. He buries his face into your neck as a single drop of water soaks through the sleeve of your shirt. One of your hands gravitates toward his hair; you comb your fingers through his soft curls soothingly.

You stay like that for several minutes, embracing the boy you could have sworn you hated two days ago. 

When the tears stop falling, Steve raises his head. His damp face shines in the moonlight. Before he can pull away, embarrassed by this show of emotion, you reach up and lay a palm on his cheek. You tenderly dry his face with the sleeve of your sweater, then press a kiss to his forehead. His eyelids flutter shut, and you can’t resist making your junior high fantasy come true by pressing another kiss to his mouth. Steve’s lips are as velvety as you imagined and even sweeter than you could have dreamed, thanks to the strawberry milkshake residue left behind.

Steve’s eyelids peel back as soon as you pull away. His eyes flicker between yours, focusing on one and then the other. Clearly, he’s panicking. He didn’t want to kiss you. And now-

Steve’s lips crash onto yours like a tidal wave. He tightens his hold on your waist, and you tangle both your hands in his hair. You both break away at the same time, breathless. Steve leans his forehead against yours. The two of you admire the stillness of the night.

“Bark! Bark! Bark!”

“I’m coming, Rufus. Mama’s going to let you out to potty.”

Steve leaps out of your embrace, nearly falling off the porch swing, as a light flickers on in your kitchen.The luminescence spills out of the window and onto the porch, darkened only by the silhouette of a woman in curlers.

“That’s my mom,” you hiss at Steve. “You gotta go.”

Steve pecks the top of your head, then sprints to his car. He peels out of the driveway and takes off down the road as your mother swings open the front door. The family dog trots out and onto the lawn to do his business. Mom squints at you, and you offer a tiny wave.

“Y/N? Is that you? I didn’t realize you were home.”

“Yeah, it’s me. I haven’t been here long. I was just-looking for constellations,” you say, pointing to what you think might be the Big Dipper.

Your mother narrows her eyes at the sky. But considering she can barely recognize her own daughter’s face a few feet away, you know the bodies of gas in the sky, light-years away, are all a blur to her naked eye. 

“Did you have a good time tonight?” she asks.

“I did,” you answer, standing and brushing off your jeans. “I really did.”

“Good,” she says, then grimaces. “It wasn’t your boyfriend who made that god-awful screeching tire noise a few minutes ago, was it?”

Her question’s annoying, sure, but you can’t keep the smile off your face as you say, “No, it wasn’t.” 

Technically, it was his car. 

“And he’s not my boyfriend, Mom.”

Not yet, anyway.

A/N 2: So that’s that! I think this is a pretty good stopping place for the series, but if you guys want more parts to it, I could probably do a few more. I love you all. Thanks for reading. :)

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If you want to be added to the tag list for this series/my writing in general, leave a reply or send me a message! Thanks again for reading. <3

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[zebraslovescupcakestoo]

Awkward Encounters While Walking My Friend’s Dog

I was in my office and just finished my paper work for the day. It was a rare occasion that there's only a minority criminal activities and we didn't had any emergency calls yet so this is a very good day so far. Fortunately, my chief told me that I can take the rest of the day off after so I'll take this chance to relax a bit at home before the kids comes home from school by Sheba's turn.

That is until I saw someone at my door who rarely wore a navy blue jacket and I knew him well enough that he doesn't wear it without a good reason. “Sam, are you attempting to shop lift right in the station?” I asked him. He shushed me. “Hey! Are you done? Kit told me that you've don't have much today. We need to get out ASAP with you.” Did he said we and with me? Who is he talking for and... why does he looked a bit bigger with that jacket that he rarely used? Lawyers do have a three piece suits but Sam had his signature yellow sweatshirts on most days and doesn't take the coat parts unless he had to.

But then I heard am animal noise and some wiggling... then it made sense.

I have a friendly dog who likes to run around You may have seen us on our daily walk

Sam have brought his dog today! “Sam, why are you hiding Tia-” He hushed again. “Félix, just finish that sh!t and let's go. I don't wanna deal with any more pot-heads today!” He really doesn't liked being with people that he gets 'bad vibes' from. I know that he's hard to get along sometimes, but I know him well that he's a really nice guy and hopefully one day he can be a bit more nicer... “Alright, just let me report these and then 'we'll' head out. That poor girl needs air.”

We frequent the river and the parks around the town When I see someone I know she'll always let me stop and talk

When we exited the station without drawing suspicions, Sam finally let out his boarder collie, Tiara. She's a very friendly and beautiful dog. I'm also her favorite human next to Sam. It might come to a surprise that I'm a bit fond of dogs but not as much since as I'm more of a 'cat' person. For some reason since I can remember, dogs liked me, even the more ferocious ones like a guard dog.

She gets a little anxious when she sees another dog But with people, she's always been relaxed

“I hate it whenever I take her for walks, there's a bunch of idiots that wanted to see her.” Sam complained. “Then why couldn't you, I don't know, take a different route?” I might not relate cause I never had dogs in my life. “Félix, I already tried it three times, I can get lost in the Amazon jungle and there's still people that wanted to talk to my dog. She's a beauty but she's not exactly that one with white gloves and worked in Disneyland.” He sighed. I know it wasn't his or Tiara's fault that people liked her, but I do understand that being in the center of attention can be daunting.

But she's not very discerning when it comes to choosing friends And there seems to be a certain type of people she attracts

“Let's stop at the local supermarket before we stop at my house. It's my turn to make dinner and I was thinking making macaronis. Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?” I'm not a five star chef but I can do more than just slapping PB and J sandwiches. It was usually Sam who covered our coffee  most of the times so I thought that this would be a nice gesture in return. “Yeah, sure, at least your cousin is out of town at the moment.”

“Why?” I asked confused. “Same reason why there's less branches in your backyard.” Ohhhhhh... Alex and Sam 'helped' to get a ball back a few days ago before he had to leave a while for 'business' reasons.

Translation: Alex refused at Sam's idea because he himself is more capable climbing trees and getting the ball than him. He pulled the tourist rule about not allowed to 'work' so Sam decided to 'reason and negotiate.' By throwing him up in the tree and then tells him off with his lawyer degree skills and the loop hole in that rule.

All the local whiners want to make friends with my dog and I'm far far too polite to walk away

We walked for quite some time and like Sam described, some people were attracted to her. If this was a dog show, she'll be winning first prize for sure. Sam was beginning to get a bit grumpier as soon as there's a few people that walked up to Tiara. “OMG! Is that your dog?” “Awww! Hey there!” “Who's a good doggie?”

They ask me lots of questions and offer their affections and I feel obliged to uncomfortably stay

I would feel a bit sad for him cause he has to deal with this, but I took that back when I looked up to him as saw that he was 'flipping' them off with both hands.

Their behavior may be crude but to ignore them would be rude and my mother didn't bring me up that way

“I found out that I could do this for a good amount of period and they still wouldn't notice it. How hilarious is that?” Sam smirked but I had to scold him and make him stop before they noticed it. All the local whiners want to make friends with my dog and I'm far far too polite to walk away

After they had their attention and noticed Sam's response, I had to scold him. “Sam! You can't put everybody on the hate list forever. Just because, and I know, there's bad people, there are also good people that really didn't meant any harm.” “ Félix, if I had to 'politely' accepted a salad dish recommendation and crap like a parrot for the next couple of days, you can at least let me steam off some 'pet peeves' or what I preferred to call some major psychotic f#king hatred.” I sighed deeply in frustration and rubbed my eyes. I swear sometimes that he must be related to Bendy like a long, lost elder brother. “Listen, I can hear your problems anytime over coffee if you promise not to do it again like that.” I offered so that way he's not gonna cause more damage. He shrugged but decided to agree. “Fine... Only because I trust you and when you're around.”

She's utterly oblivious to my concerns of their intent She runs to greet them with a wagging tail

Thankfully, the 'fans' soon resumed their ways without them noticing my friend's behavior. How can someone like him have a sweet dog like that? I decided to ask for real this time since I rarely ask about his past before he moved. “Hey Sam. I've never know how you got your dog since we've met. How did you got her?” I desperately search around for an easy exit point but the incoherent small talk starts before I have the chance to bail

He then told me the story. “Eh bien, Félix, it was when I returned back home from the war. After I reunited and returned with my twin brother, Simon, we both headed to our childhood home. Mind you, I didn't go back after that night he and my ex we're cheating on me at the time and before the war. That place was then passed on my brother since I didn't claim half of it. Which I didn't care for the old barn but anyways, I then soon found out that during those times I was 'missing,' they got married, had triplets which was a big surprise back home and what's more surprising but not that it's new by now, they look a lot like me at that age.” I can't argue with that cause I saw them in pictures and in persons at his birthday party. “I found they're really nice family. They are so-” “They're a bunch happy-jolly ranchers and I can only tolerate so much like my brother. They all drive me nuts but at least... they aren't bad.” He then said. I know that Sam's not much of an optimistic, but I do understand where he's coming from. “So apart from that, I did had a small apartment in the nearby town and build my career from law school. One day, they showed up on my rare days off and they gave me a puppy. She was from a litter in a neighboring farm and they wanted to give me a companion since I didn't have anyone and I was being 'cold' to almost anyone.”

My senses always tell me that I'm going to be mugged So I reach to get my wallet and my phone

“Well... maybe they wanted you to help you and wanted to give some affections? I get that sometimes from pets. I'm sure they really cared about you and wanted you to be happy.” “Félix, if I wanted some 'affectionate' companion at the time, I would have gone to a brothel.” I frowned a 'WTH' face at Mr. Sourpuss. But he then he got a gentle expression I occasionally see. “But... at least she's reducing my stress and well... comforts me.” I can imagine him sleeping and his dog snuggling in his bed. Most people wouldn't want dog hair in their beds but some would take the risk. He really is a nice guy deep down. I flinch as they utter unintelligible words And then sigh with relief when I detect a friendly tone

“Also, one of the best part is that she doesn't throw dishes at me when I called her mom's a bi-” “SAM!” Happy place is now temporary closed.

All the local whiners want to make friends with my dog and I'm far far too polite to walk away

We walked a bit more until we hit at a winery store. It seems like they're having some sort of a wine tasting stall outside of their store. I end up in a fug of fags and stale cider breath and I try to hide my obvious dismay

Like the previous group, they notice us and they went for the dog. How can a half drunken people be out like this at this time of the day?

She seems to be a breed that has a certain appeal to types whose diet consists of bark and boos for every meal

The owner had handed out cups of wine to both of us before he joined the others to have his turn petting the beautiful dog. Sam took mine and he dunked both cups into the drain. “White wine taste better anyways.” I would have 'remind' him again, but the dog's affections can distract people. Plus, I don't drink so he get a pass just this once.

All the local whiners want to make friends with my dog and I'm far far too polite to walk away

After a few minutes, we resumed and left those people with happy drinking. “Gee, Sam. Tiara is really is a special dog.” He laughs. “Ha! I had her for 5 years and you think I wouldn't noticed it? The kids loved her just as much.”  I agreed. We already had a cat until we lost her a few years ago. The twins barely remembered him cause they were little, but our cat was so cuddly to me and he had a fulfilling life. I was pretty sad when he died and I wasn't ready for another one since then. Not to mentioned that the twins were a bit too wild to take care for one, no matter how many times they brought up the subject and I had to remind them the responsibilities that comes with it. But at least they started to learn a bit once Tiara came into the picture. “At least it's a good experience for them. Maybe one day we can have a pet in our house once they've learned their lessons.”

I do my best to avoid certain areas of the park where the druggies and the rough teenagers dwell

We then stopped at the grocery store. Unfortunately, dogs aren't allowed. Sam then handed the leash to me “I'll go. You stay here with her. I don't want anybody so something to her like tying cans to her tail.” “But Sam, I'm the one who's in charge of-” “Where do most pasta stuff is shelved?” He reminded me. “...Top. The top shelves. I'll wait here.” I forgot that time we both got in there and it was one of those tall-short problems that got 'solved.' Sam was going to grab an item that was on the top shelves but I said I was going to grab it. That smart@ss agreed, picked me up and said 'OK, you can grab it.' Oh my Ra! That was so embarrassing! Sometimes, it was better to grab my twins than tagging with him.

I rarely venture out with her when it has gotten dark lest we catch the attention of some drunk may be well

I was enjoying some alone time and dazed for a few minutes. I rarely have this type of moments so I indulge myself to clear my head. Sadly, life doesn't go the way we planned when I saw a familiar bodyguard coming towards me. It was Boris Von Wolf. Bendy's right hand man and the second command in Alfonzo's mafia. I gritted my teeth. What is he doing here? I try to keep away when there are people hanging round the benches and the sitting walls and swings on the playground

He seems to noticed me and smirked. So of course, he walked up to me. “Well, well, well. If it isn't the 'ace' detective himself. He he! Taking the night off? Well, at least we'll be sleeping better for tonight.” I just glared at him. “I'm still not falling for your dirty tricks. You two and the rest of you scums can't fool everyone forever. One day you'll pay for what you've done for the innocents.” I spatted. He then cracked his knuckles. “Oh really? Are they ALL innocent to begin with? You're just as dumb as Bendy always said.”

Then suddenly as if out of nowhere they appear staggering hands out slurring:

He then reached out at me, or at the thought of the moment at least. I winced for impact until I heard:

“BAHHH, Who've we got here?”

I widen my eyes and turned my head next to me to see the big, bad wolf being a softie to Tiara. Oh yeah, I forgot to watch her from anyone who tried to harm her. For someone like him who detested 'good guys,' he sure has a huge soft spot for dogs. If that wasn't enough to convince you, does these words that came out of his mouth sounds like it? 'Who's a good doggie? Is it you? Is it you? Dawwwww!'

All the local whiners want to make friends with my dog and I'm far far too polite to walk away

Now this is a rare situation. It's not exactly threatening, but it isn't good either. I'm risking my friend's dog to the second most powerful man of the Chicago underworld who's infatuated with her friendly doggy charms. I was not trained for this kind of situation! As if it didn't got any worse, Sam came out of the store.

They greet me with a wink and they offer me a drink and I say thanks but it's too early in the day

He got stunned to see me and the other two. I mouthed 'I swear I didn't mean to!' He just waved and singed me to say 'I know what to do.' He then handed me the grocery bag and did a karate chop on the wolf's fedora. Hard. I choked.

Though they catch me unprepared, I've long stopped being scared I just find it hard to work out what to say

The sun hasn't set yet and they already started to light up the matched. Boris grumbled as he rubbed his head and fixed his hat. He glared up to see Sam. “Oh, what a nice, f#kng, surprise to see you here. I should have paid better attention.” He dusted himself off from invisible dust as he got up.

All the local whiners want to make friends with my dog and I'm far far too polite to walk away

Boris then got face to face and stared at Sam like it was some sort of contest. From my point of view, they're only about a head apart in height. On one side we have a football/boxing body builder type while the other was decently built but taller person. While one is close combat expert while the other is more technique planned. It's a bit of a competition in a brawl.

And then there's me with only a dog... whom she did nothing wrong.

All the local whiners want to make friends with my dog and I'm far far too polite to walk away

“I see that you're still working for pigeons, lamp post.” Boris 'greeted' “I see that you're still an ottoman for your bat brat, ya wolf skinned doormat.” Sam replied. Sam and Boris is like me and Bendy, we don't belong in the same room together. “You're just jealous that I don't have to work that hard to get anything I want such as money, love and power. There's nothing that you and the kid next to you can't compete with what we have.” Boris said. But Sam brushed it off. “I object, cause I found one thing that MY cat partner let me have that your 'cat' partner will never let you have.” He squinted his eyes. “Oh really? What is it, bird brain?”

Accessorized with diamond white and cans of special brew It's really very sweet in its own peculiar way

Sam then smug a big grin as he grabbed me and Tiara in both his arms, while he had both his hands free to 'flip' him off. “I get to keep my dog, B!!!!!!!!!!!!tch!”

Ok! Now we're gonna die, thank you Sam, you gave me a reason why I will die so young.

Though they may cause some alarm, they don't mean any harm They only want to come and have a play

I can see the shaking anger from Boris as if he's gonna go rampage. “Oh, by the way, I think that specific duck meat that only sells in here, you know, that one your cat person loved so much? I think I saw only one left. It would be ashamed if someone else grabs it before you do.” Sam suggested. That made Boris calm down a bit. “Dang! That's the only ones Bendy likes only for here! Fine, you win this time, but don't you think you'll get off easy next time. You're only lucky that it was today's special dinner. I bid you two losers an unpleasant day. ” He then entered the store.

All the local whiners want to make friends with my dog and I'm far far too polite to walk away

“Lucked out indeed. He can't beat me that easy and he knows it's bad luck to mess with a black cat, righty-o, Félix?” Sam teased. “You're old enough to know I don't say righty-o.”

Dad, if you're still watching me from above, what did I do to deserve a friend like him and where would I be without him?

----Author's notes-----

Haaaaaaaaaah! I'm lagging nowadays! I wanted to do stuff but I just MEH!

So at least One-shots are faster and better. So I did made a story with my personal OC fave with his dog. It's a boarder collie, so they're very eye catching.

The song inspired this was Awkward Encounters While Walking My Dog by Thomas Benjamin Wild Esq

There is also that Felix the cat catch phrase ‘Righty-o’ I bet that Felix really doesn’t like to do it for some reason. Which on the other hand, my OC was based on the fruit loops mascot with his catch phrase of ‘Just follow your nose!’ which I could see him doing that but added: cause I can smell bullsh!t with mine!

I know that Boris is loyal to Bendy and would do anything, but I bet that he wouldn't harm any dog unless it's threatening his buddy. Including police dogs if there are any in the main BBTIM AU.

So I hope that everyone is doing well so far during these times. I know that there is a lot going on including recent events these past few weeks, but I do wish everyone the best.

BBTIM humanized characters belong to @marini4 and OC humanized Sam Toucan is mine.